The sun was setting in the kingdom of CrownHelm. The year was 1433, two years before the great war.
Rumblings of the rebellion had begun in the streets. It started with whispers...
King Aurthius, Googi's father, had signed a peace treaty with the neighboring kingdom, Lorith. A peace treaty was what the royal officials had called it, but the townspeople knew better. Aurthius had not expected to inherit the crown and as a result was not educated in the ways of ruling. He had slowly trickled away the kingdoms treasury on a never-ending flow of lavish indulgences until Crownhelm had nothing left. The townspeople took the brunt of it, descending into poverty while the members of the royal family feasted in the palace, prancing around in their gaudy robes and jewels. When Aurthius realized there was no money left, he had no choice but to turn to Lorith -- a kingdom known for their wealth, although more notably their cruelty -- in a desperate attempt to save his kingdom. This was no peace treaty. Aurthius was selling Crownhelm into servitude, they would never be able to escape the shadowy fist of Lorith. And of course, the townspeople would be ones to suffer.
The whispers started quiet at first, there was a nervous tension in the air. The crown had a fierce group of loyal followers, and if you said the wrong thing to the wrong person, you would find yourself hung in the town square and left as a feast for the crows.
But as conditions worsened, the whispers grew louder, angrier. The townspeople were living in filth, it was as though dirt and dust covered everything in sight. As if to rub salt in the wound, on the mountain that overlooked the poorest of the kingdom's towns, sat the palace. Through the muck they lived in they could see the polished turrets of the ebony castle glistening in the sun, taunting them. Everyday the sight of that castle made them angrier. The word rebellion was now being whispered in the streets
to be continued...
