His Divine Madness

            Count Dietrich of Isenburg arrived at the great doors of Old Corvel Palace in the dead of night. It had been long since he last visited the capital, possibly close to two years if he remembered correctly. It required good reason for the Count to return to this place, and good reason was indeed what he possessed on this quiet night.

            Nine days after their departure from Holzstadt, the levy had arrived at Rheinmark Castletown, the capital landmark of Rheinmark County. Typically, castletowns would be at the center of a county, and this was usually true for Rheinmark as well, only now Alemannia had taken all of the baronies of the county’s western half, leaving the castle vulnerable to siege at any moment. The urgency of the situation was apparent as soon as the men entered the town.

            Luitold Knoll was leaving the confines of Holzstadt for the first time in his life, only not in the way he ever dreamed. Luitold, an orphan and a serf, had grown to know little of life beyond digging and starving in the two years since his mother disappeared. Freedom from this life was an aspiration that seemed further and further away as the months passed, yet somehow, the day he left Holzstadt was already upon him.

            As the night neared its darkest hour, Rudolf, Baron of Holzstadt, remained wide awake as he looked over the castle flower garden. His gaze was not to observe the garden’s beauty, he only needed an object to direct his eyes toward as he lost himself deep in unrelated thought. The garden’s roses were simply the only thing the moon had illuminated beyond the reach of his candlelight. On his mind were many matters, though ultimately matters of little matter. After all, he was only a mere baron. Despite his power over the people of Holzstadt, Rudolf yearned for something greater, something he simply couldn’t have in the strict hierarchy of Avaria. Not only was Holzstadt quite the small barony, but Rudolf himself was quite the young nobleman, being only twenty years of age as the sole patriarch of his land. Avaria wasn’t like the other feudal kingdoms of the time. No baron or count, no matter how loyal his men, could challenge Willem. In fact, it...

          In the year 1114, the small kingdom of Corvel faced its twentieth year of ceaseless warfare between itself and its many neighbors. Corvel’s very own Prince Willem, a young man who had only known life as it was in this dismal region, tried time and time again to bring the region to some semblance of peace, though to no avail. It was when he was greeted by God himself that fate turned in Willem’s favor. With a divine blessing, Willem brought an age of magic to the Kingdom of Corvel. The kingdom’s people would rise from their beds to see miracles before their eyes each and every day. Creatures of myth were suddenly commonplace. Glorious shows of dancing flame entranced the public by night. The capital city in which Willem’s castle stood became the home for all things once thought unbelievable.