The Bloody Conflict Over Fendor

Fendor is a City located in a central location of Markoth, It has seen many conflicts arise due to it's proximity to the Royalist Alliance, and it's lack of defensive capabilities. Since the war broke out, Fendor has changed hands many times, below are some of the events and accounts surrounding those key battles.

Silvelion Command - Imperial Victory - 1048AT
Fendor was a smoking ruin. The flapping of freshly erected Imperial flags the only sound, as light rain pitter patted on armour and mud.

"We did it, We finally took it back" exclaimed Cedric Assam - the Baron of Fendor.

"it's, just, not as it once was..." said said, trailing off as he surveyed the smouldering rubble of the church.

"It might have been destroyed, but we will rebuild it, stronger, and better than before" said Sergeant Halfire, scratching his maille up and down his sword, inspecting it after every few strokes.

The Imperial assault was successful, driving a weary and undersupplied Royalist force out of Imperial territory and back towards Haverly. The Royalist forces killed many attackers, their defensive position costing the Empire greatly. Imperial eyes would have likely been focused on retaliation had it not been for the destruction of the supply carts at the hands of Darkmoor, and the vigorous defence effort put up by Camdoria and The bloodmoon.

"I hear reinforcements are being diverted now, apparently marching north again to reinforce the Hallow wall?" One of the Imperial soldiers passed a drink to Halfire, dropping his maille in the mud and grabbing the cup with his bloodied hands.

"I have no idea, communication with us and the Capitol died after the assault started, we couldn't afford any distractions"

"We thought we'd lost you, Sir, when they captured you and all. What was it like?"

"Panic. Panic and desperation. It seemed that they were just as angry as we were, they scrambled to defend with the little they had to hold on with, but in the end, it wasn't worth their lives".

Both men nodded quietly, before they began moving toward the assembling soldiers in Fendor's centre.

The town centre was bustling with soldiers carrying supplies, bodies, rubble, weapons and armour back and forth. Assam picked up a crate, flipped it over and dropped in on the cobblestones at the edge of the square, standing atop it, he cleared his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, today has been an historic victory in the Empire's name. Fendor has been the focus of many battles, and more Imperial blood has been spilled here than anywhere else in Markoth." He looked at the crowd starting to form, the saddened faces, the weary soldiers, the injured, the tired, the defeated.

"But with this loss comes a new beginning for this nation. We will rebuild Fendor, bigger, and better than before. Our fields will regrow, our buildings will be rebuilt, and we will have abundance once more. What is more, Fendor is proud to make an offer to the Silvelion command to grant you a permanent home amongst the hills. A fortress will be built, in which the command will operate, watchtowers will prevent our cities ransacking, and the standing army will be increased tenfold!" The crowd roared and clapped as Cedric looked to Sergeant Halfire and winked.

Fendor was Imperial once more.

The Reception at Haverly - 1048AT
Music and clapping and laughter rang through the Haverly great hall. Lord-Proven Jonas Marco and his family sat looking on as the best of his soldiers cheered and clapped to the court entertainers dancing in the middle of the room. They were celebrating the birth anniversary of their son. Suddenly, the doors to the great hall were flung open, slamming hard against the stone - startling the minstrels into instant cessation. The capping died off quickly, and the performers backed away as the group of four soldiers, dripping with water and blood trudged up to the middle of the performance space and stopped, dropping the corpse they were carrying at the floor of the hall. The body hit the ground with full force, echoing in the now silent hall.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Yelled Lord Marco as he rose from his chair, followed by many of his honour guard, seated around the room. The men stood there, dripping, their uniforms muddied and bloodied. Underneath the mud Lord Marco could just make out the Haverly coat of arms on one of them, and a Camdorian emblem on another's surcoat. He looked down at the beaten body, squinting in the torchlight. Then it hit him, his throat dried instantly, like he'd swallowed a handful of dry dirt. His heart ached as it thumped in his chest. He grasped the tablecloth as he peered down as if looking closer would somehow change who it was.

The boots were a gift he had given to his nephew upon departure to Fendor...

"How did this happen!? Where was his honour guard!?" screamed Lord Marco, his voice cracking as his emotions began boiling over.

"We were set upon by a large Imperial force whilst packing to leave Fendor you maje-"

"That is unacceptable! Where were your scouts! Where were the defensive lines, how did they break through so quickly you were able to flee, but not royalty!?"

The soldiers fell silent, realising further explanations would do little but antagonise the angered Lord.

"What of Fendor." He said, staring daggers at the sergeant who led them into the chamber.

"We lost it, my lord. We spent many young lives in it's defense, but we simply were outnumbered at least 100 to 1, it would have killed us all if we had stayed"

"Maybe it should have!" yelled Lord Marco, slamming his fist into the table so hard a goblet bounced off and onto the floor, the ringing of the metal echoing through a silent hall.

"Did they pursue you?"

"Only until the river Trine, my lord, then they broke chase..."

Lord-Proven Marco looked at his nephew's body, his fists turning white the longer he looked. He whipped his head to the advisors table.

"Marshall Conrad!"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Ready the house guard, the standing army, the reserves, and every capable man we can spare, we have guests on their way who will wish they'd never crossed that river"

He turned and stormed out of the chamber, as the rest of the guests sat in silence and bewilderment.

Haverly were soon to be on the march.