Consolidating Power

The news of a Goblin Emperor founding the nation shocked the entire continent. Nay, 'shocked' was too tame a term to describe the reactions of all continental powers once this news reached their ears.

The Elves obviously would not stand for this, and in their eyes the Horde's claiming of Elven City-States as their territory and their people as slaves was a step too far, an injury to great to their pride and ego. For a pacifist people they began mobilizing for war with surprising enthusiasm, and armies of diplomats began to approach the various Kingdoms beseeching aid for the coming war.

Sadly, most Kingdoms would pay this no heed, too invested in their own petty schemes or recovering from the devastating Hundred Years War. The Kingdoms directly bordering the Empire would send out raiding parties, but otherwise refused to engage in total war. Once again, the Elves were on their own.

And what none expected was for Ferdinand's agents to go visit the different City-States, bribing many officials with gifts of gold and jewelry to persuade them to dissuade their governments from attacking. A weakness of the Elven political system is that unlike Human Kingdoms, what monarchies exist are not absolutist monarchies but weakened ones with power resting in the hands of the nobles, and that the monarchs themselves cannot engage in acts of cruelty even if it were to weaken corrupt nobles, or they would be promptly ousted.

"Idiot Elves, fucking hypocrites until the very end."

Ferdinand never had anything kind to say about the Elves. Then again, few in the continent ever did.

And so, they secured a few years of peace for the fledgling Empire, valuable time needed to consolidate their power and prepare for the next war.

A lone Elf travelled through the gates of Oxmaw, one of the few travellers daring the wild open world with a few caravans of merchants sniffing opportunity. Horses pulled wagons filled with necessities - food, clothes and tools - escorted by mercenaries armed with an assortment of equipment.

Lean and muscular with a slight tan to his pale complexion, the Elf bore yellow eyes filled with a roguish youth and energy, a vertical scar across his right eye. His long black hair touched his shoulders, a slight stubble on his chin and lips. His armour was simple steel plate, a red cloak fastened across his shoulders, and his weapons of choice: A steel sword and wooden buckler.

The guards - a pair of Orcs - stopped him in his tracks, one of them asking: "The hell's an Elf doin' 'ere? Ain't ya supposed to be holing up in your forests and stuff?"

"Ha ha! Good one!" Said the other Orc, "Anyway, ye're business?"

"I'm a mercenary," Said the Elf, "Looking to apply to the army."

"Okay, how long?" Asked Orc 1.

"Depends," Said the Elf, "If I ain't got what I'm here for, it won't be long."

"Eh, whatever," Said Orc 2, "Go on in."

As the Elf entered the city, he noticed the horrible state it was in; houses half-destroyed, markets propped up by shoddy tents and ramshackle shacks, beggars littering the streets, law and order kept only by Goblins and Orcs and others who intimidated petty thieves and criminals into submission.

Yet he could not see the monsters hurling any harm onto the people, be it directly or indirectly, and some of them were even helping out in the rebuilding of the destroyed city, hauling stone blocks, bricks and wood planks.

Not that there wasn't friction between the locals and the conquerors, but it was significantly subdued for the time being.

"It won't last for long though," The Elf muttered to himself, "The entire ex-kingdom's lands need rebuilding and badly. Not only do they need food and infrastructure, they need a skilled architect to redesign some cities here and there, some forts, and veteran captains to train the troops into shape. All things they lack in spades. I have to say though, they really don't have a real plan to sustain their conquests, do they?"

"And who says we're not planning to sustain our conquests, little guy?"

The Elf drew his sword in alarm, pointing it at the Goblin who addressed him. Said Goblin was very calm and composed and smiling confidently, surrounded by Goblin and Elven bodyguards who aimed their weapons at him.

"...Other than being obviously foreign, you don't have the looks of the Elves we conquered - arrogant and snobbish before we humbled them," Said the Goblin, dressed in immaculate but simple clothes, "And it looks like you lived a rough lifestyle, too."

"What can I say? I wasn't born in one of those stuffy Elven Cities," Said the Elf, "Been there once, never want to go back again. But where are my manners? I'm Kelvhan Omamaris, a wandering mercenary and blacksmith by trade, and I'm here to lend my services to the Empire."

The Goblin chief laughed heartily, saying, "I like you already! You got guts of steel, guts those pansy Elves lack in spades! You were polite with your greetings, so I'll return them: I'm Iozunk, Goblin Chieftain of 50 tribes and Emperor of Aclia."

Kelvhan's eyes widened in surprise as he said, "You're the Emperor? Oh, my apologies, I didn't know!"

The Elf remained composed, smiling as he bowed with deference.

"Well then, let's talk terms inside the palace, shall we?" Said Iozunk.