A Guide to Kingdom Building

"Father," Lord Prestonheim looked around and saw his son alive standing with him in the tent, as his memory played the event.

"I can do it! We can cross the Gorge! I will bring victory and honor to your name!" His son pounded his chest.

"Very well, Augustin." The Commander smiled as he patted his son's shoulder. "Show them hell!"

Agustin smiled back at him and later that day, went out on the covert operation to infiltrate the other side of the Gorge. His son rode his beautiful black stallion as it faded into the horizon a few moments later,along with his troop of 100-men strong.

Lord Prestonheim recalled vividly what happened next. He was sitting down with his lieutenants while laying the plan for the final siege when they heard a loud commotion from the outside. They stepped out of the tent, ready to chastise the noisy knights but to his horror something caught him by surprise.

Atop of the horse was his son's badly beaten lieutenant and tied in mithrilium chains. His body bled as nails were bore through him. His eyes were taken out by a burning object as evidenced by the burnt marks on his eyelids. The lieutenant was gagged in wild thorns, intricately wrapping his mouth.

The scene itself painted the terrible reality of war, but it wasn't the carnage that horrified the Commander that day. Hanging around the lieutenant's neck, were a set of hands. They were big and bloody with some of the nails partially ripped off.

As Lord Prestonheim walked closer, his heart fell off from his chest and his knees trembled at the sight. He knew whose hands they were. He prayed it wasn't the case, but it was apparent that it was. As he came close to it, he saw the three rings on the right hand. Just as the moment couldn't get worse, the third ring located in the ring finger, had a sigil of their house.

Just like any father's greatest fear, he realized his son was dead.

He looked at himself as the Commander stood there and relive the darkest moment of his life. There was nothing that could ever console him that day. The world suddenly broke into a deafening silence as he watched himself break down in despair. His one and only son died because of his arrogance.

Suddenly, everything faded out and he was left alone standing by the side of the Gorge. A massive army marched from the western end. The battalion was fully equipped with siege weapons and an infantry armed to the teeth with pilums, short swords and a round shield passing through a narrow entrance of the gorge.

Lord Prestonheim could see his son leading from the distance. Augustin's presence was powerful in the battlefield. He looked strong and determined to win the war. He saw him dismount from his horse and led his men to the entrance. The Commander could only watch what happened next.

Suddenly, huge boulders came tumbling down from the cliff crushing the men and breaking the formation. From the chaos, came the joint forces of the rebel Virdians who attacked them from the rear and flank blocking their escape route and isolating them from their other allies.

From there, it was total carnage. Augustin's army was outmaneuvered by the rebel forces, pushing them further into a corner. The elves were able to cast their anti-magic traps, disabling the knights to use magic offensive. But even with such disadvantage the knights fought bravely, cutting and killing whoever was in their way. Augustin did the same. Even without his magic, he was able to fend off the attackers.

He slashed his way out of the entrapment and made his way into the fray supporting his comrades and subordinates as he went. However, no amount of determination and courage could make the rebels retreat. The rebels fought ferociously and rained them with arrows, drowning them in a storm sharp metal heads that killed most of the fighting knights.

Lord Prestonheim, averted his eyes as waves of arrows descended like rain from the cliff. He saw his son took a few on the body, one on the eye and one on the neck. He cannot let stomach the way his son was brutalized any longer. He couldn't stomach his son's pain that he brought to him by pushing him with the mission. It was his fault.

He closed his eyes and heard someone breathing heavily beside him. He opened his eyes and there was his son, right by his side. Tired, wounded, and dying but was still standing with his blood-soaked gladius on his right hand.

Augustin wasn't able to stay upright anymore but he bravely stood up and used the rock pillar by the entrance of the gorge as support. His son had no strength in him to run, let alone fight.

The sight terrified the Commander. Being beside his son during his last moments was one of the hardest things he had ever witnessed. He could hear the tremble in his son's voice. He could hear the final words of prayer he spoke to the glory of their gods. His son shifted his weight to look at him.

"F-father…" he breathed laboriously. "W-watch m-my flank."

Lord Prestonheim's eyes widened in terror as he realized he was physically there with his son. It wasn't like what he remembered it to be. He wasn't at the tent this time; he was with him.

The Commander nodded as he picked up his weapon from the fallen soldiers around them. With two swords on hand, the Commander was ready to change his son's fate. From the shadows of the Gorge, emerged another batch of rebels, fresh and energized for battle.

Looking at his son Lord Prestonheim nodded, "Stay right where you are, Augustin. I will take care of this!" He smiled as he charged towards the rushing rebels.

With every ounce of his strength, he delivered the first blow, only to pass through an elf. He used his elemental magic to burn the entire attacking force, but that did not faze them. The rebels continued on unscathed from his attacks.

Realizing the dire situation, he run back towards his son, now being overwhelmed by the rebels. The rebels had overpowered his attacks and now has surrounded his son. The Commander tried his best to fend them off one last time.

With all his might, he grabbed one of the rebels and tried to fling him away from his son, but he simply passed through him. He tried slashing some in the front, but the blade won't work on them. He yelled in frustration and terror as he watched his son being stabbed and hacked by the rebels as Augustin looked at him terrified with what would happen next.

Lord Prestonheim stood there defeated, looking at his son's last moments, afraid, miserable and full of hatred towards himself.

"AAAAUUUUUUUUGUSSSSTTTTTIIIIIIIINNNNNNNN!" He screamed in agony as he watched his son die in front of him.

Lord Prestonheim was about to reach the blade and stab himself when a bright light suddenly engulfed everything he saw. A moment passed and as he opened his eyes, he saw black smoke evaporating right in front of him.

The startled Commander looked around and saw the Obscuros lying motionless on the ground, completely disintegrating. He then realized it was all but a dream. They were trying to manipulate him in that dream but somehow, they failed.

He looked in the distance and he saw the elf pulsating beams of light, walking non-chalantly towards the blinding fog.

Lord Prestonheim pushed himself up using his broken sword. He felt his right shoulder stung in pain as the bite mark began to infect. Seeing this, Lord Prestonheim took his broken gladius, and activated it. The pale blue blade glowed but he still wasn't contented. He gave more of his exousia into it until the glow became blinding.

With no ounce of hesitation, the Commander dabbed the glowing sword over his infected wound instantly killing the dark spawn from the Obscuros. He gritted his teeth as he did this several times with the other bite marks. The pain was so severe that he thought he would have died because of it, but he persevered.

After disinfecting his wounds, Lord Prestonheim stood up and like a knight finally finding a good battlefield to die on, the Commander pressed on. Into the void and to the Obscuros he was itching to kill from beyond.