Revival Of An Old System I

A horse rides through the land, a man with long snow white hair, fluttering with the breezy wind marked in crimson red swoosh past soldiers, with each soldiers look at the man riding the horse with awe and fear.

'Rings of stone' Arial remarked as he arrived in front of the castle. 

His horse neighed but with one tight pull, the horse obeys. 

Looking at the condition of the castle, with bloodstained gates and dripping blood flowing like a slaughter house and the fires that are being put out in the distance, Arial could tell that Ragar and Castile had a fierce battle here.

'A concentric castle' he thought to himself as he near the gates. 

The Primitive Thirteen Tribes and the more technological superior Shadowlands inhabitants. 

No wonder the Ten Tribes have always viewed the Three Great Tribes with such awe. 

But to Arial this level of civilization is not worth comparing to the level of technology of his Empire.