Mount and Blade: Warband

The Kings of Pendor, by Keltiones

Prologue: The Tavern

I raise my head from the tome I hold as the knock at the door echoes through the rafters of the draughty tavern room. The book, titled "Great Leaders of Pendor", contains the stories of many of the historical greats of Pendor. I was nearing the end of the tale of the last king of Pendor, many years ago, who had sat upon the Silver Throne. He was the last of a line of 5 generations of Pendorian kings, but despite the greatness of his blood, was slain not by the sword of a disloyal subject, but the relentless onslaught of disease; the red plague. This foul epidemic had spread across the continent in a mere month, tossing it into turbulence and killing regardless of rank or title. Overthrown in such a way, the succession of the monarchy was left open to discussion – which, in Pendor, means large-scale armed conflict. The many different factions splintered apart and spread across the land, some remaining secluded, apart, while others aggressively expanded their borders. It was chaos, and there was no one there to stop it. This petty rupture was now simply part of life; people accepted the fragmented kingdoms as if there was no other option, no chance that Pendor might once again be united. How wrong they were…

A second, more insistent knock rings out, startling me from my thoughts. Standing, stretching, I tell the visitor to wait a moment while I buckle on my sword. I can never be too careful; thrice this week have attempts been made on my life. Once in Janos, once in Sarleon, and once more in the village of Yaragar, where a number of Snake Cult crossbowmen attempted to take me down from afar. I cut them down easily enough – their bolts were no match for my Noldor shield, crafted and enchanted by the ex-elder species themselves.

Opening the door, I am confronted with a man wearing what appears to be the garb of an Imperial soldier, who proceeded to speak without introduction. How rude.

"Sir! I have been charged by the Emperor, his Highness Marius Imperator himself, to deliver you this letter. Your eyes only; I have refused to deliver it to anyone but yourself, as per my orders," he announced, puffing out his chest a little. Despite this show of confidence, he appeared a little nervous while waiting for my reply – fear of being berated, perhaps?

"Thank you, I will read the letter and deliver my response in due time. Until then…" I responded, moving to close the door. The soldier (I could tell now where I had seen the armour before; this was no less than an Imperial Legionnaire, the élite of the armies of the south) stepped forward into the doorway, preventing me from completing my obvious dismissal.

"I'm afraid I must insist on a swift response. His Highness detests being made to wait, especially on matters of such import."

"I am sorry, but I am otherwise occupied at this time. Marius Imperator will have to wait."

"I cannot return until-" the Legionnaire starts, but is cut off as he is jerked backwards and pushed roughly against the opposite wall by a furious Sigismund. I immediately come to the conclusion that Sigismund must have been the 'anyone else' the soldier had previously referred to.

"The captain will do as he bloody well pleases. For the time being, why don't you just get the hell out of this tavern before we have a problem, eh?" Siggy snaps at the messenger, whose previous show of confidence and pride had completely disappeared. He looks just about as shocked as I would have expected.

There is an uncomfortable pause as the Legionnaire, who had sunk back practically into the wall, composed himself and made his best show of defiance.

"I can't leave here before my mission is complete. Now, if you would kindly-" he begins, only to be cut off with a grunt by Sigismund's gauntleted fist in his armoured belly.

"Your mission is complete. The message is delivered. The answer, if I may be so bold, is no."

While this goes on, I open the letter and scan through the contents. It is as I suspected – another offer of vassalage from yet another king, detailing what is expected of me and which run-down excuse for a village I would receive, should I choose to accept.

By the time I have finished reading, the soldier has already escaped from my armoured companion's grasp and is well on his way down the road, with scarcely a look back.

"What did they offer you this time, captain?" Sigismund asks, with slightly more than a hint of disdain.

"Another worthless village, probably been raided a dozen times over the course of the month. Nothing new or interesting…"

"When will they finally get the idea? I've lost count of the number of offers you've had, but you've turned down each one as easily as the last. I detest their persistence, but I must ask: Why have you not accepted any? The kingdom of Ravenstern is powerful, and their borders are slowly expanding. I see no reason not to join them – you are on good terms with almost all the lords in the province!"

"I hold… differing views to them. You are aware of the history of Pendor, are you not?"

"Yes, yes, the story is told and retold a thousand times every day. The great kingdom, brought down in a month – or a day, or a century, depending on who you ask – by the terrible plague. What of it?"

"…I believe that this kingdom should be re-established. It was far more prosperous than any of the current ones, and its military prowess was unmatched. I believe we can bring about the start of a new era."

Sigismund laughs. "Captain, isn't it a bit late in the evening for jokes?"

My expression remains unchanged. "It is no joke. Look at our army – perhaps it is small by the standards of lords, but we have never been defeated. Faced with impossible odds, we have always emerged victorious. The greatest warriors in Pendor fight under my banner. With their help, I believe that the dream of the ancient Pendorian kings can be realised once again."

"Even if you say that, captain, where will you start? Where can you start? You own no land; you have no castles, let alone cities. How do you expect to rule a kingdom from a tavern?"

At this, I merely hold up the letter, clutched in my hand this whole time. "The Empire is weakened. Their border castles have been juggled between factions constantly; they are ripe for the taking. We move tomorrow. Inform the others that, come dawn, we ride for Janos."

Sigismund merely nods and walks slowly away. Left alone again, I shut the door to my draughty tavern room and open up the "Great Leaders of Pendor" once again. As I stare at the pages detailing the fall of the Kingdom of Pendor, I wonder what fate will befall me and my troupe of motley adventurers. Will we share the fate of the first king of Pendor, uniting the continent by flame and sword, or will we share the fate of the last, dying by the hand of some unknown foe and condemned to be forgotten by the men and women of the very place we gave our lives to protect?