:-:-:-: The lonely court of Canton lie empty. The lone figure, a dwarf aged beyond his years, sat at the head table. Laid out before him are his familiar tools; axe, shield, metal, strong drink, reports. Next to these old friends was his newest tool, the circlet. It represented his rule over Canton. He sighed as he pondered it. How did things end up like this? Just a few months ago he had been a Lord in good standing within Tor. It was true, his branch of the House was a distant fifth seat of seven, but he had battles to fight outside of petty politics. He was called Linebreaker, yes, but success in the field did not correlate to success in the courtroom. With an absent mind, he thumbed through the many scouting reports, battle reports, this and that reports that he had piled before himself. It was Uncle who sent him here, to make sure the ideals of House Tallos were upheld and to control the ambitious Prince Garm. Hah, Balen would have had more success trying to master ritual magic. He remembered fondly the days before he had come to Canton. The days when his loyalties did not all conflict with one another.
:-:-:-: There was Tor... and Father... and Uncle. In many places nepotism was commonplace. Not so in Tor. No. It was harder for the silver sons and daughters of the Upper Nobility to climb. More was expected of you, and the competition among siblings and cousins was always stiff. Always they were reminded that the easy life, the life of luxury should be denied to them. Balen, even as a young dwarf, took that to heart. He had to work twice as hard simply to step out of Father's shadow. Baron Grimrock Skien Tallos, known as the Brick of Tor, was a hard act to follow. With each sparring match lost to a family member, one's chances of advancement dissipated. But each fight lost against his siblings and cousins made Balen swear he would work harder. Balen was, like Garm, ambitious. Balen's ambition, however, was to master the art of warfare and combat rather than to collect crowns and thrones.
:-:-:-: There was Garm. Ever ambitious, ever hungry, ever lean for the horizon. Balen remembered their pact in the long bygone days of their youths. The Prince had learned magic, took the path less followed, and they hated him for it. The two, vastly differing in status and outlook, fought once, for practice, and Garm, ever the card, wished to make a wager. Balen refused to bet coin, but Garm wished to wager a promise. A young Balen accepted. They both jotted down the promise they wished the other to keep. The dwarf recalled how venomous his bet had been. He wrote that Garm would promise never to assume the throne of Tor. He thought himself clever. The young knight knew that when the Upper Nobility learned he had publicly shamed the black sheep Prince his status would improve. He wanted to win. They went to fight, and much to Balen's surprise, Garm narrowly defeated him. The wizard Tallos had taken down the sturdy dwarf. Perhaps it was the hand of fate. The promise Garm had wished for was simple: Balen would take the road less traveled. Bound by his honor, he did so. He halted his martial training, unheard of among his family for generations and took up a new path, one certainly less traveled. The road less traveled had taken an influential Baron's forgettable third son and transformed him from a mere dwarf into a legend. The Linebreaker. One risk had made him the dwarf he was today. He kept his promise. He took the road less traveled, and wagered all on it. He had thrown his lot in with the Traitor Prince. They call him Oathbreaker now, the men and dwarves who once cheered his name. Balen didn't care.
:-:-:-: He remembered, drink in hand, how Garm had left the court of Canton with thunderous applause erupting behind him. That was his shield, and axe, and rune. It was that strength which had convinced them to kneel to the decidedly uncharismatic Tallos dwarf. The gamble within the gamble began then. Garm's plan had hinged on the Linebreaker. It would have been so easy to hand Canton to the Torian Regulars and their commander, Lady Magdah. Balen would have been praised, yes, praised and relieved of this crown he never wanted. But Garm had gambled. Garm had gambled that Balen Grimrock Tallos, the Linebreaker would honor a promise from decades past. And sure enough, he had. Balen imagined Garm's face as he read his pledge of fealty. He pictured his smug smile, the smile that told the world, I gambled, and I won, and I might just win again.
:-:-:-: The dwarf placed his empty cup down on the table in front of him. The paperwork mountain before him was no smaller than when he had begun. He thought of the young Ciceros, Madam Persephone, who he had watched grow bold. She was timid and frightened when Canton had freshly fallen, but now she had volunteered for a dangerous duty. She, like many among the lower nobility, had grown stronger under the Tallos hand. She had yet to return, and that worried him. Damn this crown. Were he still a Lord he would go out and find her, but the circlet, and the title it represented, shackled him here. Balen was powerless and imprisoned within his own barony. The war marched on and the Linebreaker sat on the sidelines and watched.