Role

Chapter 4

What followed was a great feast in the Redwood Hall, the home
of the vas Antian family. The new noble houses toasted their
victory and then choked on their wine. Each poisoned by their
host. Those who did not drink were easily cut down by a mix
of Antian bannermen and Drow warriors. Over the next many
days there were public displays of execution. Men were hung
from the trees on every path, one on each side, spaced dozens
of feet apart. Each had a sign around their neck with their
crime. Each signed by the House of vas Antian. The forest
and mountain trails stunk of rotting flesh weeks. A scent
that Quintalius remembers fondly. The smell of Victory.

There would be no council vote. There would be no council.
Kartalius became King of Westallia. Now an old and feeble
man, his wife waiting patiently to inherit his place. Perched
on a tree not like the vas Antian owl but rather like a vulture.
She loved her daughters but feared her own son. For as in Drow
culture it was the man's place behind the women but she
knew Quintalius had the same drive and ambition as his father.
So she did the next best thing. She manipulated Kartalius
into sending the boy away. To the mainlands where he would
represent the Western Kingdoms as it's official emissary.
He was told to seek the Blood Tribunal, to learn the ways
of Order and to bring civilization back to the West.

With her son on his way to a life long service to foreign
cities Vexesia felt comfortable in her plans. More and more
Drow began to move into the mountains of the kingdom. The
humans realized what had happened but it was too late. Their
representative republic had been replaced with a cruel
dictatorship. They now understood why their ancestors had
feared the House of vas Antian.