100 Chapter 6.21- The March towards Chaos

In the latter days of winter, there were quite a few expectations for those who had made it through this bitter chill. For the refugees of Morat, it was that as the sun grew brighter and longer each day of their march towards home, so too would their future be brighter and longer.

In Haven, the rumors of the Transmuted and Parasite races were abound, their cultural books not written, and instead shorter pamphlets had been written, with the phrase, "give them time for their adjustment,and they will earn a place in our nation, and in our hearts." The expected books were usually published within a month, but it was taking longer for these races, so rumors filled in the gap of knowledge.

In the GWA there was an expectation of the continued hostilities with the Northern Kingdom, but the GWA's normal consisten battering of the front lines was replaced with holding their lines. The Northern Kingdoms was happy for the reprieve of death, but if the fighting did not pick up soon, the carrion beasts would come to pick at the undisturbed rot.

And in the capital of the Northern Kingdoms, Castle Hargrave, there was an expectation of a letter from Ston. A letter that never arrived. General Marcus had cut off supply to the revolting city. It was not in his nature to openly kill his citizens, especially the middle class and upper class that were filled with wealth and experience. It was hard enough to generate high level citizens on the front lines. But he would get them to kneel.

This had not happened. He cut off supplies to a city on the brink of collapse, and instead his scouts informed him that the city walls had been reconstructed, better than before. Large double gates were placed, homes were repaired, and the city was lit each night with torches. It was not the visage of a city struggling, but simply a normal city in winter.

It was then he received a notice. But not the letter he was expecting.

[Notice of Non Confidence]

[After the Seige of Ston, the mishandling of disaster relief, and the threat of torture, murder, and infantcide from the newly elected Magistrate Judias, The city of Ston hereby puts on notice the previous ruler by proxy, Grand General Marcus, that the city has ceded from the Frost Kingdom of the Northern Kingdoms, and is henceforth considered a free city.

The official signing of this decree will take place in 3 days time. Your attendance is optional, but should the Northern Kingdoms wish for future trade with the city of Ston, attendance is highly encouraged.

Signed, First Speaker - Ston Council of Masks]

"Preposterous"

Marcus grabbed his armor, sword, and ordered his personal guard to arms. It was time to end this little charade.

***

Marcus arrived on the morning of the declaration signing with 200 members of his personal guard, the highest level soldiers in the entirety of the Northern Kingdoms. As he arrived at the gate, he felt a drop in his chest. Hundreds of armored soldiers from Haven were present. Their masks denoting experience, the marks of war present on their armor, imperfections speaking of violence beyond measure of a normal battlefield. Just inside the gate, with a warm coat and crooked smile stood a man sipping some steaming liquid from a large cylinder. Marcus frowned. This man had been blamed for all of Ston's problems, according to reports from his magistrate.

With an obnoxiously deep bow, the man began to speak. "My, my grand General Marcus! It brings a smile to my face to see you present on this historic day."

Marcus grimaced. Within the boundary of the city, this man had diplomatic immunity, divinely decreed. Marcus could summon a star to fall from the sky and this man would not have a scratch. Such was the deal struck to save the trade capital of the entire Northern section of his kingdom.

"Diplomat Wilton. Your reputation would have me to believe your first words would be poison."

Wilton laughed. "Hardly. Now would you and your gentlemen like to come in out of the cold? There should be a bit of room for them at a few of the dingier public houses. The nicer inns are all sold out, you see. Your personal guard can take the day off. Security for this event has already been outsourced."

Marcus twitched. This man was not phased by his personal guard. "I see Haven has brought soldiers into disputed territory. Surely you realize this will hinder the negotiations."

Wilton feigned surprise. "Oh these men? Not at all! Ston put out several dozen adventurer contracts for event security all around the city and these happen to be adventurers registered with the guild! Since the minimum level was put at 60 only so many could apply internally, so notice was sent to a few neighboring nations. It's so hard to find good help these days."

Marcus snarled, "You think your hired thugs in fancy armor would survive a battle with my most seasoned warriors. My personal guard will make the streets run red with the blood of your monstrous protectorate."

Wilton's face shifted to a strange expression. It had Marcus thrown off. Only two people had seen this face. The first was a Skygge Lass he had paired with last harvest festival. The other was a random pickpocket during the siege of Ston. It was Wilton's sharktooth grin of excitement.

"You may test your assumption at your earliest convenience, grand general." Wilton sipped his tea.

"Now. If you are quite done with flailing your codpiece around, there is a ceremony to prepare for. And I have a bet to win."

Marcus waived off his troops. "What bet?"

"Well the 1st mask said you wouldn't be stupid enough to show up to this event where you are clearly unwanted. I told him, 'no matter how stupid he is, his grandiose pride greatly outweighs it. He will show.' I am glad you proved me right."

Marcus' knuckles were white. He would find a way to kill this man. Slowly. For now he will go to this signing.

***

Marcus followed Wilton into the Council room. Inside were 13 people wearing masks.

Marcus was unsure what to do. He had spies prepared in his team to go and threaten the families of these 'council members'. But he didn't know who they were. Marcus laughed. "I see that the members of this council are afraid to meet me face to face. Instead you hide behind your masks."

The first person to the right of the assembled members raised their hand and the others nodded. "On the contrary, Marcus. These masks are two fold. Because the identity of the 13 masked leaders of Ston is secret, we cannot use our position as leverage. Nor can we be threatened by outside forces. These magical masks and the cloaks were a gift to us from Haven in congratulations for our transition to a free state. The masks have two enchantments. Should we lie in front of our fellow council members, they will turn red. And should we ever disregard what is best for our free city, the mask will turn blank, signalling it is time for us to gracefully step down from our position."

Marcus, laughed, "What's to keep someone from just recreating the mask and then pretending to be a member?"

The council went silent. The last hand went up. "We start each session with a lie. Something that is irrefutably untrue as far as we could tell. Since we haven't started our session yet, you can witness it first hand."

"The magistrate definitely was using his brain when he sent us cotton clothes for winter." The first mask turned red.

"I have no doubts on the grand general's ability to rule."

"The northern kingdoms definitely aren't going to fall apart."

"I don't pick the mushrooms out of my wife's stew."

One by one the 13 masked people said a lie. Most of which were directed at the previous city's leadership, a few that were pretty innocent in nature. All the masks turned red. After a moment, they turned back to their previous visage.

The grand general stood there taken aback by the audacity of these commoners. A small table was brought in with a chair. The first speaker's hand raised and the others acquiesced. "Grand General. We have brought you a chair and a table so you can participate in these matters civilly. This is your chance to get ahead of the outcome for the problem you created. If the state of our city shows anything, we are able to survive with you taking the longer trade routes. Whether you can or not is none of our concern."

"And what is to keep me from attacking this city, here and now?"

Wilton clapped and raised his hand. "Can i go?" The 13 masked members nodded to Wilton. "So that one is simple! As the adventurers greatly overpower your 200 member team, we would destroy them. Any that survive would be used as food or fodder for our populace in one way or another. Afterwards, whether you survive or not 200, or 40% of your nations' highest level fighters will be dead, and we will let the GWA know this little fun fact. Then you two can kill each other, while Ston relaxes through the onslaught."

Marcus understood. They had planned for him to come with a subjugation force. They had prepared for it, and their plan hinged on Marcus preparing to use his sword. He had once again been outfoxed. But today would not be his day to die.

Marcus took a seat.

***

The free city of Ston had made their demands relatively simple. If the Northern Kingdoms wanted to continue to use it as a trade hub, they could. External merchants would pay an additional tax for use of Ston's facilities, roadways, and such. Three burbs that provided food were annexed by the free city of ston as a food source, since 100% of their food was originally sent to Ston. Marcus was not happy to lose this extra ground.

Additionally, the lands surrounding Ston were considered ecologically protected. This was to reduce the damage to the local ecology, and anger the wilds.

Marcus could do nothing but sign. Ston may be weak, but with the backing of Haven and Haven's allies, it was without a doubt that Ston would be the victor in any open conflicts.

Marcus left, white knuckled. He had signed the non-aggression treaty as well as the non-intervention treaty. Ston was a free state, and all he could do was leave. Wilton, walking towards the city exit, laughed. "You did quite well. All the other boisterous rabble rousers in the ruling class usually decided to take a bad situation and make it worse! You were smart enough to recognize your absolute failure as a ruler and cut your losses. There might be hope for your little autocracy yet."

Marcus looked at the diplomat. "I see your game little man. You won today. You will not win tomorrow."