{Friday, 12th March, Earlier that same day}
[Plodor – The North coast of the Wingedor Empire]
"This is our wonderful Plodor Harbour! Ooh sweet joy the weather is nice today!"
Speaking was a young man short enough to be mistaken as a teenager. Clad in a rich brown cloak with diagonal golden trims, he wore a simple black cap that hid most of his spilling brown hair.
"Being a key transport hub of our Wingedor Empire, our Plodor Harbour has gone through years and years of change to become the proud giant it is today!" His voice was bright and squeaky, filled with excitement. Though sometimes his words were hasty and unfiltered, it had its own humorous charm.
His hazel eyes glanced backwards at a family sitting on his open horse drawn carriage. The carriage rattled gently over the paved cobblestone streets, its wooden wheels creaked like old bones.
Crafted from thick, dark-stained oak, the carriage was not too cheap but not too fancy either. With ornate iron engraving lining its edges, it bore a slightly finer look than the public carriages available in Plodor, but paled in comparison to the carriages owned by noble families.
The roof was absent by design, allowing passengers a full view above.
The clear sky stretched infinitely under the gleaming sun as hordes of seagulls flew together in familial harmony.
"My esteemed Sirs and Madams!" The tour guide pointed to a distant pier, people moved about like ants – some carried bags, some carried ropes and equipment, some lifted large crates.
"Over there you can see our main ports bustling with transport ships, fishing vessels and the famous touring cruises. Ah my esteemed guests unfortunately the tour today will not include a ride on the Paile Boat. What a pity, such nice weather."
"That's alright, thank you Fisher." This time, the man who spoke was a middle-aged man with neat, wavy black hair that hung down to his eyebrows. Seated on the carriage, this man donned a black double-breasted waistcoat lined with round silver buttons and a structured collar. Underneath hid a plain white shirt with long sleeves that covered the bracelets on his arms.
His blue eyes studied the distant pier. "The seaside seems so much busier than in the centre of the city." His voice was smooth like honey and his tone carried a hint of interest.
He sat on one side of the carriage whilst his wife sat on the other. In between sat a young boy and girl that greatly resembled their parents.
The boy's eyes were wide open staring at the bustling harbour in front of him.
His sister was much older. She was more reserved, silently observing the architecture of the buildings and the models of the different ships. Periodically, she would hastily scribble something on her notebook, keeping it close to her chest as if shielding it away from prying eyes. From time to time she would glance at her father on the edge of her vision.
The guide smiled.
"Right! The harbour is actually the heart of the city. The history of our proud harbour dates back to nearly 2000 years ago, all the way back to the golden age of the Lanconest Dynasty. Originally this area was settled as an agricultural town, but then it was slowly transformed into a leisure destination for the Lanconest royals. It is said that the beaches here were like a land of gold."
Fisher shook his head, "Ah it is a pity that over the years, development has destroyed all the beaches."
"During the rebellion of Victoria Vaire in the year 440, this golden paradise of beaches was transformed into a stronghold, and it was during this period that the castle of Plodor was first constructed. When the Lanconest Dynasty fell and became the Santoria Kingdom in 451, Plodor was rebuilt as a trading hub, however, without the royal family's sponsor, it quickly became abandoned."
Suddenly, the tour guide clapped his hands.
"But my esteemed sir and Madam! History has a funny way of repeating. In the year 765, nearly 400 years ago, a second rebellion was staged, eventually giving birth to the Wingedor Empire. It was during this war that the city of Plodor was fortified to become a key bastion of the Empire."
They shortly arrived in front of a building. A wide pathway made fully out of cobblestone stretched into the distance.
On one side laid an endless line of buildings that stood facing the sea. On the other side was a myriad of piers and docks built by dark timber.
The buildings lining the harbour were all very similar to each other yet each was unique in its own way. Some were old, some were newly built, some still had wooden scaffolding.
Like most of the buildings in Plodor, the building the carriage had just arrived at had its first story made out of stone with an arch entrance. Just above were people dining on wooden balconies that jutted out like broken teeth. Above that was the third story built with a timber frame with red tiles as its roof.
The building was fairly ancient, its walls boasted the occasional diagonal wooden beams that showcased the historic architecture of the Lanconest dynasty. Some slashed from corner to corner in bold, others formed intricate X's and diamonds.
The smell of cooked fish thinly spread through the air causing the family on the carriage to be reminded of their hunger.
Pointing towards the restaurant. Fisher guided the family in.
"My esteemed sir and madam, after having lunch here, we'll make our way to the castle of Plodor where the current Duke of Plodor resides."
Following the guide, the family entered. The aroma of grilled fish intensified, overpowering their noses. "Dear, it smells so good. Even the restaurants in Ganalis might not compare."
The woman spoke for the first time in a while. Her soft voice was full of excitement. She wore a full-length navy-blue and cream-coloured dress decorated with flowery patterns. She had long black hair that reached down to her chest, whilst her face was plump and delicate with perfect facial features. Her subtle beauty earned many stares from other people in the restaurant.
"We never know until we try. Smells can be deceiving honey." The man in the double-breasted waist coat replied as he turned to face his wife, revealing a captivating smile.
A few minutes later the family was on the balcony as plates of food were laid on the table in front of them.
On one of the plates, a steamed sea bream sat over a layer of butter-infused creamy mashed potatoes. Drizzled over the delicacy was a thick brown sauce. This was known as Plodor's Bream and Cream.
The highlight was the gloopy sauce, simmered with onions, roynons and lylic pears, it was rich with sweetness.
On a neighbouring dish sat a similar dish, devoid of the brown sauce. This time it was fried cod, lightly battered with kelp-flour. Its golden crust was crispy, hiding the steaming tender meat within. Plodor's Cod and Cream.
There were two more plates. One laid a cluster of fresh oysters, whilst the other was filled with garlic steamed mussels and seared scallops, drizzled with herb oils. There was nothing memorable about these dishes other than the fact that Plodor was known for its fresh seafood.
Plodor's seafood was not as fresh as Ganalis Port city of the Santoria Kingdom, or as diverse as Hasan Harbour of the Purion Kingdom. The former neighboured the Hazen sea, whilst the latter neighboured the Reandau Sea. Both were warm seas where a variety of seafood thrived.
However, being situated along the northern coast of the Wingedor empire, Plodor harbour neighboured the Analanma Sea. Its slightly colder climate allowed the rare Sagig Oysters to reproduce and grow, being only one of the places in the continent to have that delicacy.
The gentleman clasped his hand together, before the rest of his family followed suit. "By will of the Star, we are able to enjoy this wonderful meal in Plodor. Thank the father and mother of Prosperity. Bless the Star."
His wife and two kids repeated, eyes closed. "Bless the Star."
The boy, the youngest of the two siblings, pointed towards the sea bream. "Daddy, the fish is fat, are there fatter fishes?"
"Yes Cillian, the fish is big, not fat. There are bigger fishes, yes, daddy will show you when we get back home."
The lady pointed to the fried cod. "Baby eat this one first, there are lots of bones in the big fish, I'll remove them for you."
"It's spiky!"
"Yes dear, here try it." She cut out a piece and lifted it towards the young boy's mouth.
Meanwhile, the older sister stared at the raw oysters in disgust. Seeing her expression, her father laughed.
"Murphy, these are Sagig oysters. You can eat them raw, try them, they are really fresh." He grabbed a shell and slurped the oyster into his mouth.
The meat of the oyster was smooth and velvety. A slight earthiness accompanied a gentle sweetness.
A radiant smile enveloped his face.
Not convinced, the young lady decided to eat the seared scallops instead. Her indifferent face began to melt as her cheeks flushed pink. Her blue eyes sparkled with joy as the edges of her lips curled up.
Cutting into the sea bream, the wife addressed her husband. "Dear, how much are we going to tip Fisher?"
Swallowing another oyster, he replied. "How much do you want to give, Mary?"
Feeding Cillian a spoonful of mashed potatoes she answered. "We are not those noble families, we don't need to give a lot. Just 2 francs will do."
Letting out an amused laugh. The man answered "How frugal, I liked Fisher but you're right. 2 francs then? The church hasn't been paying well. If not for our savings, this beautiful trip would not have been possible."
At the same moment, he bit into the fried cod and fed himself some mashed potato in quick succession. The flaky skin of the cod crackled inside his jaw. The creamy potatoes melted, combining with the tender juices of the fish it formed a light fusion of sweet and saltiness.
Stunned, the man whispered "This really does put our Ganalis to shame." Giving his daughter a portion of the cod he insisted. "Here, Murphy, try this."
Mary smiled. "This may be our last vacation for a while, tensions between the kingdoms are quite high."
Her husband's smile turned grim. "When that time comes, I'll do the best I can to protect you and the kids."
Murphy looked up from her plate of scallops and stared at her parents, deep in thought.
…
On the ground floor of the restaurant, Fisher was loitering behind a battered oak counter. Its surface was stained and littered with chips and marks. A wooden shelf behind it displayed roses of cloudy glass bottles and clay bowls stacked neatly.
On the counter itself stood numerous wooden barrels with a tap running out of them.
Fisher was talking to a broad, barrel chested man with thick arms and black hair. His belly strained against his red tunic as his thick neck was almost covered by a half-braided beard.
Matic grunted.
"You've got a catch there huh, lucky you, you probably got paid well."
"Yes yes." Fisher smiled before lowering his voice. "Tourists are so easily swindled, 100 francs for three days, they're not filthy rich, but rich enough."
He failed to hide the glee in his voice. "The man in that fancy vest is actually a high-ranking deacon from the Santoria Kingdom."
Matic chuckled whilst grabbing a set of cups from the shelves behind him. "Huh, you've really hit the pot, Fisher. An Arbiter? A Stardian? A Knowledge pursuer?"
"A Stardian."
"Ah, so it's the Church of the Star. The Church of the Star's influence spans across multiple empires and kingdoms." Matic looked at Fisher with a twisted smile. "Too bad for you if this had been 18 years earlier, you would have reeled in double, maybe triple the francs."
"It's to do with the war right?"
Pouring a creamy mixture into 4 wooden cups, the restaurant owner explained. "Yes, 18 years ago, the Church of Order and the Church of the Stars were of the same standing in the Santoria Kingdom."
Switching to an adjacent barrel on the counter, Matic began pouring a clear liquid into the same cups. "However, during the war that same year, the Santorian diocese colluded with our Empire to bring down their own kingdom."
Matic looked up from the cups.
"It was almost a success, if not for the Haddamat empire's intervention."
Putting the four cups on a thin wooden tray, he continued. "After the war, the church of the Star was cast out by the Santoria Kingdom. Still, the Star was too influential – too many believers and personnel – for it to be completely expelled. Instead, it was rebranded as the Church of Prosperity. It is not popular with the majority of the Santoria population."
A waiter picked up the tray of drinks, then left, walking towards a table in the far end of the restaurant.
Matic patted Fisher on the back "Even then, 100 francs is no joke, how do you even find these rich customers.
"Hmph you're one to talk Matic. 'The best restaurant in Plodor', you must be raking in the francs too."
Matic sighed. His shoulders slumped under his fat.
"Not really, whilst lots of francs are going in, just as many go out. Produce has been getting pricier. I've heard most of the seacatchers and farmers have been mobilised into the Empire's army. There's barely anyone left to catch the fishes."
"A war…" Fisher muttered, the communal atmosphere of the restaurant suddenly seemed desolate.
"Yet, I reckon it will take months, maybe years for something to happen. But it's best if nothing happens. " Matic grabbed a wooden box of dirty dishes and cups from the counter.
Before disappearing into the kitchen he glanced at Fisher.
"The last war didn't end well for the Empire."
Fisher stared at the wall. It was true. The recent war between the Wingedor Empire and Santoria Kingdom was taught in every history class. Surely the Empire wouldn't be foolish to repeat their mistakes.
Fisher began praying.
…
[Elsewhere in Plodor]
A man stormed into an office with a priest following right behind. Dressed in a religious robe his face was a storm of emotions.
"They couldn't make today's programme longer can they. Honestly, preaching is so tiring." He remarked, taking off his white ceremonial gloves.
This remark earned him a slight glance from the accompanying priest, but he quickly looked away, secretly sighing, as if already used to his blasphemy.
Sitting down behind his desk, he swept a glance around his own room. His office was in the famous Polare Cathedral. It was a large chamber with high, arched ceilings of white stone, gilded with veins of gold that caught the light of the tall stained-glass windows. At the far end of the room stood bookshelves that leaned against the polished stone walls.
In front of him was an oak desk with neatly organised ledgers, scrolls and letters. Also sitting on the table was a marbled tea-pot with three cups sitting on a plate. Steam squeezed through the lid, suggesting that it was just freshly brewed.
"You may leave."
"Yes, your Excellency." The priest bowed.
Once the door clicked shut behind him, a raspy chuckle drifted through the office.
"My, my. Gerald, you're not helping the nasty rumours." The voice said, amused. "You've already been cautioned once for laziness."
The voice was old and hoarse though it held a mocking tone. "Who would guess that one of their own highest ranked Bishops wasn't actually lazy, but actually despised the Star. The very being they worship."
The speaker casually stood by the arched window. He had been there the whole time, but only Gerald had seen him. His face was weathered with old age as his grey hair sprawled chaotic over his head. Covered by a black robe, his posture was evidently hunched as he leaned towards the wall.
"Not just the Star. There is no god in this world." Gerald's voice dripped with venom. "If there was one, then he died 16 years ago"
The old man let out a burst of laughter. He's still as dramatic as ever.
"How is Operation Deadman?" His old tone turned serious.
Gerald poured himself some tea. From just the faint smell, he could already tell what it was.
Black Einther Tea. One of the Wingedor Empire's specialties, einther leaves can only be cultivated in the Empire's northern farmlands.
"That old idiot Willis made a mistake. We may have to bring the plan forward if any complication occurs."
"Although the war is soon, speeding things too much will complicate things."
"I know." He growled. "The Roamers have been quiet recently, I guess that's one good thing. There's less work for me to do."
"You fool, that spells bad news for Plodor… and for us. Who knows what they're plotting."
"I'm happy to take a little rest sometimes." He leaned back on his chair, taking a sip of the tea. The mildly earthy and bitter taste of einther leaves settled in his mouth as he exhaled.
"This tea is very well brewed today. Well done."
Quickly finishing his tea, he picked up a document on his desk and began reading.
"Also, Linda, stop creeping me out with that form of yours."
The old man standing by the window let out a laugh. His laughter gradually turned from an old raspy voice, to a young feminine one. At the same time, everything about him also changed. His facial features, his hair, his body. Standing in the same spot was now a stunning young lady with bright red hair. That only thing that didn't change was her robes.
"That's not you, but it's still better than that other rotten corpse."
Linda grinned. She moved forward and sat on the edge of Gerald's desk.
"So… you're meeting Conrad later?" Crossing her arms, she complained. "The sudden change of plans is annoying. I wanted to rest for a few more months."
"When an opportunity comes up, you have to take it." Gerald nodded, half focused on one of his documents.
Linda stared at him mockingly, rolling her eyes.
"You know, you're really a piece of shit."