Aleksander Verall von Arcadios was a regal looking man. One look at his facial features, outfit, and general aura and they could recognize him as royalty.
He had been bred and raised to be as such, being formed from a young age to inherit the responsibilities of his great land. From birth he was given the responsibilities to govern the masses and ensure that his children's children had a place to live.
Yet, all those decades of experience, education, and drive failed time and time again to steel his nerves against the whispers of war. Years ago, they had announced major changes to the law and incorporated Marked Ones into various aspects of society to 'train them' to be stronger.
The government had to focus their coins on strengthening their true soldiers, fortifying cities, and stocking up weapons and relieve supplies.
As such, there was no room left in the budget to spend military funding on supporting those creatures, so it was best to let them train themselves. Despite knowing that, he despised the idea of letting them have the run of his kingdom unchecked.
Aleksander sighed and picked up his morning coffee for a sip. He also grabbed a set of documents that had been laid beside it for him to read.
They contained information on additional troop movements by Alorek. It seemed that the problematic beastman nation was still maintaining a large 'warning force' on their border with Arcadios' ally kingdom of Eroa.
It had reached a level that maintained a threatening presence, and since then ceased to grow. The force bordering the Five Kings Union, however, continued to grow year by year. By this point, it had almost developed into a town made up entirely of soldiers and mercenaries.
Like Arcadios the other four human nations had been building up their armies and followed the same laws. For the most part, the common people seemed to adapt well. The Adventurer's guild especially seemed to adapt easily to the changes. A few of the larger players in the organization had also sent formal requests to the Union to maintain these policies after the war.
Aleksander shuffled to the next set of documents after taking another sip of his coffee. This set discussed some of the plans regarding various requests for entrance into the dungeons. He recently approved the Adventurer's Guild to host a Grand Raid of about a hundred and twenty adventurers into the infamous Demon's Stomach.
This deadly dungeon was a short way outside the capital of Arcadios and was a great resource for the kingdom to continually harvest rare resources from for the purposes of making enchanted armors, weapons, and various alchemical concoctions.
Lady Voltara al Famyn stretched her arms lazily and walked over to a desk in the corner. A maid stood beside it and bowed while gesturing with a single hand to a cup of tea awaiting her.
"Thank you very much my sweet." Voltara cooed while running a finger across the maid's cheek, which brought a faint blush to her face.
The maid bowed even deeper and excused herself quietly from the room and closed the door behind her. Voltara silently sprinkled a special, gray powder into the liquid and around the rim of the cup. After a few moments, nothing happened, so she proceeded to enjoy the drink.
Many people were after her life and this poison detecting powder was a personal concoction from her family that she used before eating or drinking anything.
She sighed to herself, enjoying quietly the rose tea she requested every morning. After that, she clothed herself and left the room to prepare for the day. Following her from behind, but maintaining a safe distance and hidden in the shadows was her personal bodyguard. He was a powerful assassin specializing in Dagger Arts and Dark magic. He also had a very useful mark, being the Mark of True Sight.
Unlike most leaders in the Union, Lady Voltara did not really care much about Marked Ones. She put on a front around nobility of her own and other kingdoms, but for her, they were just as much a tool as everyone else in the world was.
Voltara smiled because she even viewed herself as a tool. In truth, every person was a pawn in someone else's game. It only mattered the skill of the player to determine which pieces would move and how.
At the moment, one of her more favorite pieces was moving in the northern provinces. A mountainous region inhabited by the northern Elven Kingdom of Aedrider. Unlike your typical vision of nature loving, fair skinned beauties the elves of Aedrider were a strong sort. Though they were as limber and lithe as their names would suggest, their thin and tall frames held a surprising amount of strength.
The elves of Aedrider specialized in forging powerful weapons and armor.
Her favorite piece was currently laying the groundwork for usurping a shipment of enchanted weaponry bound for Alorek through underground channels and redirecting it to Eroa. She could try to have it sent to any of the Union nations, but were the ploy to be discovered, the blame would fall on Eroa.
And if the ploy were to go unnoticed, then an ally in their upcoming war would gain strength in resources. Truly, it was a win-win situation.