>>5934996For three nights, the army waits upon the bank of the river, growing increasingly nervous. The Rex stands resolute, hoping that he hasn't made a terrible mistake. The whispers and rumors of the army begin softly, but grow louder each night: has the mage fooled us? Have we marched straight into a trap? Could this be the end?
The Rex remains implacable, never giving into the despair of doubt, a pit from which there is no escape. He shows no weakness to his soldiers, even though he himself accepts that if this was a mistake, it is a bed that he made and will lie in. Of course he hopes and believes in his convictions that he made the right call.
And, upon the evening of the third night, the signal is seen, the agreed-upon sign that would be given across the river from within the heart of the capital, a burning banner waved back and forth fervently: the Emperor is dead!
The Rex lets out a sigh, relaxing a fist that has been clenched for days and wiping a line of sweat from his brow. His army now makes the difficult cross across the river, and upon the other side, the gates of the enemy capital open, allowing the Rex to march within. People within look on with mixed reactions, at times fearful and others glad; it seems the Emperor had little love amongst certain groups within the population. At the palace at the heart of the city, he meets with old mage with his assassins, who ended the war with a single stroke.
The mage presents the staff of the Emperor to the Rex, a tool of mind control that was used to influence the minds of those around him and control the great beasts. It was a difficult task, getting close enough to the Emperor to strike, but the army proved a fine distraction. His last days were spent staring furiously across the water at the enemy force, unknowingly right into the gaze of the Rex, who lets out a laugh; he was looking back after all.
Now comes the time to decide what is to be done with this western "empire" in its first period of being without an emperor.
