Chapter Text
687 Imperial Calendar
Allnus Hill
Count Formal was no stranger to curiosities and wonders of the world, being an avid collector of, lets say, exotic humanoids himself, but what stood before him and the hundred thousand men of the expeditionary Legions far surpassed what he had ever had the pleasure to experience. Upon holy Alnus Hill itself, a gate of legends has appeared, reopened by the gods. The meddling of Imperial mages had long since changed the sacred gate from its original divine form. An exquisite marble arch now rose around and surrounding it, obscuring the sacred gate from view. Yet Formal, and many others, knew that this man-made construction was far more than a stagnant ornament. Imperial mages and scholars had labored day and night until at last they succeeded in stabilizing the portal and prying it wide open. Around him, most of his fellow imperial lords and commanders chatter excitedly, content with prospects of new land, gold, and particularly slaves, seeking to only enrich themselves. Formal was different, enlightened, he knew the genuine gift of the gate lay in the new diversity it can bring to Falmart. All thanks to what he had heard, whispers from Rondell of a new rising thesis, Rondel’s Grandmaster Mimoza La Mer’s compelling suggestion that all life, including their own, originated from Alnus ages past, their existence manifested by the gods every eon, even going so far to suggest that we are most nascent. While he was hardly a scholar, it did not take a sage to understand that the sacred gate was an opening, the signal of a new emigration devised by the gods, and that perhaps humanity may no longer be the junior of the races. His mouth nearly watered at the mere thought of what exotic creatures existed across the gate and what he could add to his expanding maid collection when his fantasy was rather rudely interrupted.
“Count Formall,” cried a voice, “respectfully, while we are in important discussions for the future of the empire, you insult us with your idleness, as if this gathering were beneath you.”
Sighing, “perhaps I would not, if we are to return to matters of true importance…” rebutted Formal before trailing off and turning around. Facing him was the Viscount Herm Fule Maio, who stood by the roundtable at which they and a number of his fellow ‘noble’ lords and commanders had been discussing matters of ‘importance’ to the empire’s ‘future’.
“The count is right, the spoils of our expedition are to be discussed later,” commanded perhaps the one of the few respectable individuals in the tent, “Is there any change in our knowledge of the outworlders?” questioned the Legatus, the commander of the expeditionary force and veteran of Prince Zorzal’s bloody Bunny Kingdom subjugation campaign, his face still marred with scars created by the vengeful daggers of the so-called ‘primitive’ bunny warriors.
The figure on Formal’s left responded, “Unfortunately, the uncivilised barbarians aren’t enlightened with the common tongue, and deciphering their barbarian tongue and primitive minds continue to prove difficult, they however would make good servants for Sadera, with their unspoiled, delicate, supple, refined...” sneered General Mudra before thankfully being interrupted.
“My forward scouts have all returned,” interjected Count Roen, “having gone through the unpredictable gate. They report stone buildings, dense population, and a small number of barbarian warriors, equipped with some kind of wooden staff which is half a man's length and iron-coated, with no protection aside from a plain open-faced helm. Currently, our better equipped legionaries outnumber the barbarians by at least a thousand to one. However, we have yet to know the extent of the enemy’s cap-”
“All of my spies report that they are completely unprepared for our might, and the place is ripe for the picking. They have even captured some barbarians.” interrupted Count Misna pridefully, “More usefully, an important barbarian building is nearby, draped with their standard and lightly defended. Furthermore, our stabilised gate is located within the square of a densely populated town where we can seize and secure our foothold.”
Formal frowned, he had known the count Roen and Count Misna’s feuding, they both provide most of his law enforcement after all, he had not expected their competition to lead to outright obscuration and false truths, their scout and spy groups have not emerged from the gate completely unscattered, and whole groups have gone missing yet to return. Rumours had traveled to his legionnaires of the returning group’s delusions about moving metal, blackened skies, and an unending city. While he found it hard to find truth in the delusions, the decision of truth or false are not to be decided by the counts but by the Legatus. By the time he escaped his thoughts, Formal found that the discussion had reached its closure without him, with the Legatus finalising his orders, “-assemble your Legions, we will march through the gate by noon, and bring glory to the Empire.”
“Glory to the Empire!” echoed the others before they moved to relay the Legatus’s commands.
Almost as soon as they left, the Legatus’ face dropped in vigor, tired of the constant war and border conflict he endured throughout his long service. He moved forward, closer and closer to Formal, and he placed his rough, yet comforting hand upon Formall’s shoulder, saying, “Count Formal, your face is imperfect; your mask is cracked, and I see beneath it a grim and tired face, no doubt what you think of mine now…” He trailed off and walked out of the tent.
Once again, Formal reminded himself of the true reason why he drew himself into this expedition. Bound by the will of Emperor Molt Sol Augustus, he could do nothing but spare what few souls he could from their brutal fate, and ensure the survival of any foreign race.
Formal followed the Legatus and watched alongside him as lords and commanders alike barked their orders at their men. The enslaved demi-humans entered the gate first, ushered in by their cruel handlers. Following them were the orderly masses of the Legions formed squares, including his, a hundred thousand strong in total alongside several wyverns, he and the Legatus tagged alongside them. The remaining rest soon followed behind him through the black gate into the unknown.