The Shield of the North (NSFW)

[Sync]

Welcome to my second solo story, The Shield of the North. The story was, in part, based on a burst of inspiration from the song The Shield of the North by Proge Protocol - and I do recommend visiting the artist's YouTube channel.

In this story I hope to provide interesting characters, interesting lore, and an interesting story. Any feedback, thoughts, and/or criticisms should be left constructively in the Feedback Thread for this story, not here.

Please be aware that this story is entirely created and written from my own thoughts and ideas; if you feel I have copied an idea from something you've posted somewhere, I do truly apologise, and point out that any such copying was done without awareness or ill intent on my part.

Please also be aware that while I've included the NSFW tag in the title, I've done so as a matter of expediency, and not necessarily because I know that there will be any specific NSFW scenes included.

In this first post I will include links to the world map and character images of the protagonist (sorry - the character images are AI generated), as well as information regarding items, places and people of interest as they occur in the world and story.

I hope you enjoy reading this story - The Shield of the North

---

---

Map of the Narene Empire

Fianna De'Vrie - Image1 - Image2

The Gods of the Narene Empire

Devere, the Guardian (M) - God of Loyalty, Duty, Protection, Soldiers
Talitha, the Hearthkeeper (F) - Goddess of Life, Agriculture, Nature, Animals
Zendorro, the Deceiver (M) - God of Lies, Trickery, War, Destruction, Storms
Kaltyron, the Creator (M) - God of the Seas and Oceans, Elements, Weather, Sailors
Paniva, the Fleeting (F) - Goddess of the Skies, Sun, Moon, Stars

The Lands of the Narene Empire

The Land - The Narene Empire
- Capital: Neverhold
- Major Cities: Knightreach, Blackstrand, Stonemount, Shimmerwater
- Outposts: Grimwatch, Winterhold, Lightport, Rockhold, Seawatch
- Notable Villages: Brittlewater, Oldpond, Southview, Bayshore
- Farms: Stonewall Farm, Eastwood Farm, Ocean Farm, Hammond's Farm
- Features: The Worldspine (mountain range), The Spike (mountain), Chesmack Hills, The Eastern Forest, Gloomwood, Homeless Marsh, Spine River, Shelter River, Open River, Dead River, Lonely Lake

Nearby Isles
- Tamgar Isle; Town: Flameacre; Features: Tamgar Woods
- Hartpond Isle; Town: Crystalglen; Features: Hartpond Peak
- Elmack Isle; Tower: Seareach

Notable People

Neverhold
-- Emperor Kylen Thorenfell
-- High-Lady Jennia Thorenfell
-- Crown Prince Pevan Thorenfell
-- Crown Princess Evianne Thorenfell
-- Harlen De'Tarren (M), Seneschal of Neverhold
-- Mirage (F), Spymaster of Neverhold

Others
-- Baron Kyle Yarling (M), Lord of Stonemount
-- Baron Maven Ber'Den (M), Lord of Knightreach
-- Baroness Annia Veschen (F), Lady of Shimmerwater
-- Baron Gryland Southers (M), Lord of Blackstrand

Eastwood Farm
-- Maslen Farren (father), Tinna (mother), Henrick (son, older), Carrie (daughter, younger)

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - The Call

 

[Sync]

Chapter 1: The Call

"Call her."

His Imperial Majesty of the Narene Empire, the Emperor Kylen Thorenfell, was seated at his large oaken desk in an opulent study. He was an older man, perhaps fifty winters old, and his girth suggested he liked his food and wine a bit more than he probably should. His blonde hair was thinning and turning silver, capping an older, rounder face shaped by weight and age; but the bright blue-grey eyes set in the man's face showed the man's mind was still sharp. He was dressed in resplendent robes, rich in texture and coloured in the deep red that matched the Empire's banner.

He'd been Emperor for nearly thirty years, now; the last twenty-five of them along side his wife, the High-Lady Jennia Thorenfell. Kylen had made his home in the Imperial Castle in the Empire's city, Neverhold, once the previous Emperor – his father, Joran – died of apparent ill health. Kylen and Jennia had met the following year, courted, and eventually married. Three years later Jennia had given him a son, the Crown Prince Pevan; two years later a daughter was born, the Crown Princess Evianne.

The afternoon sun was streaming in through the large windows of the study. The room was large, the size of some small cottages, and was lined with several bookcases that reached to the ceiling, each bookcase filled with book and texts of all manner of topics. The desk itself was large, solid, polished, large enough to hold a good-sized map of the empire if needed; the room also held a large soft sofa and a large fireplace that was currently roaring with well-tended flames. Thick rugs covered the floor to add to the sense of extravagance the room conveyed…and this room was a good representation of the overindulgence of the entire castle.

His Majesty was seated at the desk in a large and solid chair, enough to hold his slowly-increasing bulk. On the desk a sheaf of pages was fanned out, the most recent reports from his Spymaster of events in the Empire. Kylen knew these reports would be accurate, but slightly dated; his Spymaster was detailed and diligent, but it took time to gather information, and time waited for no man. The Emperor had spent the afternoon going through the reports, apparently satisfied with the contents…until a very specific report caught his eye. He had no reason to doubt the accuracy of his Spymaster's reporting skills. He read the report again to be sure had hadn't read it wrong the first time.

There was, according to the report, a rumour of a plan to take the Emperor's life.

The report had sent a chill down his spine when he first read it, and sent a second chill down his spine when he read it again. A plan to make an attempt on his life. On his life. Him, the Emperor. The man without whom the lands would be in disarray, in chaos. He didn't know whether to feel anger or fear, and his reaction was most likely somewhere in the middle. He'd set the report down on the desk and called for his Seneschal, a tall, thin and weaselly-looking man in thin but elegant robes named Harlen De'Tarren, to discuss the report. The Seneschal had arrived in the study about five minutes after he'd been sent for.

"Call…call her…?" the Seneschal repeated slowly. "Are you sure that's the best course of action, Majesty?"

"Did you read this report from Mirage?" Kylen appeared to be annoyed that he wasn't being obeyed instantly.

Harlen shook his head quickly. "No, your Majesty. I only know what you've told me."

"Then read it and tell me what you think," the Emperor snapped, pushing the sheet of parchment across the desk towards the thin man.

Harlen picked up the parchment and held it at eye level so he could read it. His eyes flicked from side to side as he scanned the words on the page, widening slightly as he neared the end of the brief, but concise, report. Like the Emperor before him, he read the report twice to be sure there was no misreading.

"Mirage seems to be quite sure that there will be an attempt on your life, although the report does not indicate when this might occur," he noted finally as he set the report on the desk.

"Yes, yes," Kylen muttered thinly. "So I'm not being paranoid or irrational about it."

"I didn't say you were, Majesty," the Seneschal pointed out. "However, Mirage only reports the rumour of such a plan; there is no evidence of a plan as yet, so Mirage cannot be-"

"That doesn't matter," Kylen interrupted tersely. "That there's a rumour is bad enough. Call her."

Harlen coughed politely. "Again, I must ask, Majesty: is that wise right now?"

"I can't be seen to be mobilising the militia to root out this rumour," the Emperor reasoned irritably. "If my forces started checking it out, it gives the rumour validity. I need an impartial hand, a hand trusted by everyone in the Empire."

"And therein is the possible flaw," Harlen observed carefully. "The Shield is loyal to the Empire…not necessarily to the Emperor. She will be completely impartial, and will be unlikely to act if she believes her action is not in the best interests of the Empire."

"How will killing the Emperor be in the best interests of the Empire?" Kylen snarled grimly.

"That I cannot answer for her," the Seneschal replied honestly, his shoulders shrugging helplessly to highlight his answer. "I make no claim to understanding how her mind works."

"Then it must be pressed upon her that my untimely death is not in the best interests of the Empire," Kylen growled firmly. His right arm swept out, a thick finger pointing unambiguously at the door to the study. "Now go…and call her." There was no room for discussion in that voice, and the Seneschal recognised it.

Harlen bowed his head deeply. He knew a command when he heard it. This was no longer open for discussion…at least, not now.

"Yes, your Majesty," he conceded civilly. "I will send a messenger immediately." He rose from his bow, backed up a couple of steps, then turned on his heel and strode out of the study.

A half-hour later a rider departed the castle on horseback, the rider bearing a message addressed to The Shield of the North and fixed with the Imperial Seal.

Wheels had been set in motion.