Lunaris chronicles

The Coalition

Nestled amidst sprawling hills and interconnected waterways, the **Caldris Coalition** emanated opulence and opportunity. Founded two centuries ago by the ambitions of seven great merchant families, it had grown into a formidable force—a burgeoning nation that ranked among the world's greatest commercial hubs. Its wealth rivaled and sometimes surpassed that of other established powers, including Lunaris, setting a dichotomy between its trading prowess and military might. Within the Coalition, blossoming wealth was its lifeblood; even though their martial capability may have faltered, their coffers overflowed, allowing them to purchase loyalty through hired swords and mercenaries.

The founding families, each powerful in their own right, united their ambitions under a single banner—the **Caldris Coalition**. **House Avernor**, known for their expertise in metalwork and armaments; **House Lareth**, masters of trade and commerce; **House Gildren**, artisans of fine goods; **House Dorian**, brokers of information and influence; **House Merivale**, the financial titans; **House Varrent**, herbalists, and alchemists; and finally, **House Eldrin**, the masters of mana and arcane studies. These families not only governed their domains as princely lords but also wielded considerable sway over their vassal houses—the lesser families whose allegiances were bound through oaths of fealty.

A grand meeting convened in the **Assembly Hall of the Eldrin Manor**, the esteemed center of the Coalition's power structure. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, depicting the richest history of the Coalition's rise. Knightly armor and ancient weapons lined the halls, hints of their martial past—a reminder of a time when the Coalition sought to build more than just wealth. But even now, as merchants turned political lords, they understood that might alone would not secure their future.

The air was thick with tension and excitement as representatives from each family took their places around the long, mahogany table, lined with delicacies and flagons of exquisite wines. At the head of the table, a solemn-faced elder from **House Eldrin**, **Lord Thaddeus Eldrin**, commanded respect, his silver beard flowing like the currents of time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Thaddeus began, his voice a controlled rumble, “the news from the east is troubling. Lunaris has shifted much of its force away from our borders in a desperate bid for survival. It is now our moment to strike and reclaim our lost status as a true power.”

A hush fell over the assembly. Quiet murmurs danced like flames. The implication was enormous; a breach against Lunaris could change the calculus of power in the region drastically. The merchant families understood the stakes; every moment was a step toward destiny, a gambit filled with ambition, risk, and the promise of unrivaled wealth.

### The Setup of the Coalition’s Plan

“Lord Thaddeus,” interrupted **Lady Calista Varrent**, her voice smooth yet assertive. “As tempting as it is to take advantage of Lunaris’s vulnerable position, we must also weigh the costs of war. Our strength comprises only 40,000 knights available on the eastern front. If we are to reclaim the mines, we must bolster our forces with mercenaries.”

“Indeed, but we have significant wealth at our disposal,” countered **Lord Alaric Varrent**, a member of House Varrent. He leaned forward, the flickering candlelight reflecting in his eyes. “We can hire the brutish mercenaries of the **Iron Claw** or the infamous **Silver Sails**. They will obey our coin just as we govern the markets.”

“Those mercenaries offer cunning and skill, but the cost is substantial,” returned **Duchess Seraphine Avernor**, a stalwart figure who wore her armor as readily as her noble attire. “Every gold coin spent on them is an investment—we need to ensure it translates to securing the mines and bolstering our long-term power.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room, but behind the glamour was a sobering truth: to wage war was to risk wealth, alliances, and the fragile peace they had cultivated. Yet, in the flourishing markets of Caldris, the allure of the protected **mana stone mines** of Lunaris—rich deposits that fed their economy and allowed them to stand against the other great kingdoms—was impossible to resist.

“Those mines are what we require; they hold immense value,” said Lord Thaddeus, his gaze unwavering. “We cannot overlook that the mines would yield enough mana stones to fill our coffers for generations. With that wealth, we can fortify our forces and perhaps take even more territories in time.”

“How do we present a unified front?” asked **Lady Isolde Gildren**, displaying equal fervor. The youngest of the elder council, she was ambitious and recognized as a masterful negotiator. “If we secure the mercenaries’ loyalties, we also must offer lucrative payments and provisions. We get at least 20,000 additional mercenaries to tilt the odds in our favor.”

“What of our Grandmasters?” inquired **Lord Cassian Merivale**, fear flickering in his voice. “We possess eight grandmasters—four of whom will lead our forces into battle. Should we risk dividing our championed breadth?”

“That is why we maintain our strongest in reserve,” Thaddeus concluded, revealing the cool pragmatism of a seasoned leader. “We can cater to our men. We can rally our remaining grandmasters—their expertise and power is what will lead our offensive. We will focus on the strength of our tactics, channeling the wealth that our kin has collected.”

With a wave of his hand, Thaddeus silenced murmurs again. “We also make alliances with our neighbors, leveraging mutual interests. If we merely stay self-contained, we risk inviting future hostility. The kingdoms will see our expansions as a means to declare rightful claim over our own lands.”

“Then let us act swiftly,” Lady Calista urged, enthusiasm blooming. “I will speak with the guilds. We need them for support and manpower.”

“Then it’s settled,” Thaddeus stated, producing a map on the long table. “Here, along the Eastern Crossing, is where we will assemble our forces. We have at most six months of holding. We know the Lunaris forces are divided and on the defensive, and we must act before they shift their focus back. Timing is of the essence.”

### The Grandmasters’ Strategies

Deftly, strategies swirled around the table, with scribes documenting the decisions made. As the conversations shifted toward specifics, four key figures drew aside into a quieter corner—the grandmasters of the Coalition.

**Grandmaster Baelith Dorian**, a stormy-eyed man adorned with scars from battles past, gazed at the map. “This plan has promise, Thaddeus, but we must remain cautious. If we lose men, those mercenaries will flee.”

**Grandmaster Lysandra Gildren**, as quick-minded as she was impeccably dressed, spoke next. “That is why we must establish a decoy. We need to create a diversion far enough from the main battle. Strike at their heart, but allow smaller groups to stir chaos elsewhere.”

“Good idea. We can prioritize the mines but decoy them inland,” Baelith agreed. “We can return to fortify each site later.”

“What about the reputations of our houses?” Grandmaster Corvin Merivale added, his brooding demeanor heavy within. “If our assault fails, we’ll bear the wrath of our families. We have made many promises to our vassals and allies. This Coalition must not fracture under our ambitions.”

“Should we succeed, our names will be etched into history,” Lysandra countered firmly, leaning over the map and pausing, her finger hovering over a specific area. “We target the mine—if we can seize it, it becomes a jewel in our crowns. We must capitalize on Lunaris’s inexperience.”

“Let us swiftly compile our final preparations,” Baelith urged. “We ride under the banners of House Eldrin, and we ensure that our intent is heralded for future generations. Our meeting here is not without purpose.”

As the grandmasters turned their attention back to the council, plans began to materialize—a roadmap toward power laden with ambitions so bold they rivaled stars.

### The Mercenaries of Caldris

Days passed swiftly as Caldris's ambitions took shape. The coalition's emissaries scoured the lands, locating mercenaries willing to heed the calls for gold. The **Iron Claw**, notorious for their ruthlessness; **Silver Sails**, a band of men ready for coin and thrill; and lesser-known factions made up of warriors hungry for glory—each would become part of Caldris's campaign.

A designated meeting space for the mercenaries was established on the outskirts of the capital, a newly built tavern known locally as the **Golden Chalice**. This would serve as a hub for negotiations and recruitment. Laughter echoed within the feasting hall as promising warriors from myriad backgrounds shared stories of battles and conquests. Some were veterans of countless wars; others were young, brimming with zeal.

At a long wooden table in a lavishly adorned corner, a fierce-looking man named **Rolf Ironfist**, the commander of the Iron Claw, sat with calculating eyes. Rugged and imposing, his physique alone demanded respect. He was known as much for his brutality in combat as his strategic cunning.

“Your gold is fine,” Rolf grumbled, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers restlessly. “But I don’t send my men at low pay to scar themselves on lunatics. You must make it worth every drop of blood.”

Thaddeus, leading the negotiations with an air of authority, countered confidently. “Gold well spent benefits us all, Rolf. You understand the wealth Lunaris hides in their mines. Join us, and your men will prosper beyond their wildest dreams.”

“Dreams mean nothing unless backed with real gain,” Rolf replied, his tone still gruff but now with a trace of interest.

“We will grant you a portion of the earnings, minus expenses of course,” Thaddeus continued, unfazed. “You’ll also receive full logistics support—supplies, provisions, and a feeder of new men to backquarters. Consider this an alliance for your future.”

As murmurs of agreement flowed through the mercenary tables, Rolf nodded, crossing his arms. “It’ll take more than for some of my men to follow false promises and rumors. I need numbers. We aim for at least 20,000 men for this mission, but we should be well compensated for our troubles.”

“And compensated you shall be,” Thaddeus emphasized, emphasizing the weight of his words. “If your men prove their valor at the mines, your portions shall grow immeasurably.”

Allegiances were forged amidst laughter and raised mugs, commitments sealed by fiery oaths and promises whispered into the night. As the discussions wore on, an air of ambition thickened—the players of the Caldris Coalition moved towards a singular point of focus, plotting the downfall of Lunaris with the precision of trained merchant lords.

### Dark Portents

In a crude but lively tavern, a raucous discussion filled the air as word spread among the mercenaries. Rumors and tales blended; some talked of raiding the Lunaris supply routes, while others whispered of fabled artifacts buried deep within the old castles. Each story fueled a fire within the gathering crowd, stirring excitement and volatility.

At this hub of anticipation, Rolf rose, commandeering the attention of seafaring men and walking warriors alike. “Our time has come! Soon, we become more than just mercenaries—we become legends!”

The sea of warriors erupted in cheers, the air heavy with the promise of conflict—a chaotic roar that echoed outside the tavern and reverberated through the streets of Caldris. Sparking their resolve, the embers of war flickered with vigor.

But not all were convinced; whispers of skepticism danced amid the shouts of glory. Some mercenaries turned to hushed discussions about fortunes lost—what if Lunaris struck back? Was it worth the risk? The tavern, once unified in grand ambitions, soon bore the burden of doubts, and that uncertainty curled like smoke from glowing embers—a portent for doom that refused to be silenced.

Back in the Assembly Hall, ancient maps were rolled, and alliances parlayed, creating a web of schemes connecting diverse ambitions. The coalition united, but if history had taught them anything, it was that hope alone could not sustain ambition. They would need real strength—and time would tell if fortune smiled upon them or turned its back in the shadows.

### Preparation for War

As dusk fell over the lands of Caldris, an urgent atmosphere cloaked the great city. Numerous logistical routes were established under the gaze of the strident moon, allowing supply trains to fall into action. Merchants with wagons laden with goods angled their caravans toward incoming mercenaries via side roads; goods, provisions, and weapons flowed from each corner like tributaries converging on a singular river.

For every knight who enlisted with ambitions of conquest, several mercenaries joined the ranks of the **Caldris Coalition**. The taverns of Caldris overflowed as barmaids served ale, and laughter filled the air with promises of glory. Each night, an army forged in dreams emerged from the shadows—hundred-eyed soldiers united by bloodlust and reward.

Meanwhile, preparatory discussions flowed through the hallowed halls of the Eldrin Manor. Lords, ladies, and their entourages gathered to strategize, planning their next moves like masterful players on a chessboard. The prize of Lunaris hung tantalizingly close, shimmering like a jewel of immense value.

“We’ll synchronize our movement alongside the hired mercenaries,” Baelith laid out, his steady voice holding weight among the council. “Our units will flank through the **Eastern Woodlands**, leading our forces to **Ironhold Mine**. This must be a clean strike, quick and decisive.”

“Yes,” Lysandra interjected, her sharp gaze analyzing the surrounding nobles. “We must maintain communication as we ambush Lunaris’s resources. If they receive word of our attack—if they can organize a counter—we risk fatal consequences.”

“Agreed,” Thaddeus acknowledged, nodding. “And what of the grandmasters? We will have them join the front lines—four of them stepping forward as our spearhead against the enemy. Coordination between our forces is paramount if we are to succeed in securing the mine.”

The tension around the table rippled as they debated placements and contingencies. Although this night held promise, each prominent family recalled historic defeats where plans had faltered at the brink of battle. Cohesion mattered.

### Final Preparations

The air became electric with determination as the Coalition leaders finalized their plans. The flow of wealth from trade reaffirmed their financial readiness to wage war; thus, they fastened their seals—contracts for mercenaries, plans for raiding parties, and military formations were all encapsulated in a web of ambition.

As dusk surrendered to nightfall, the Coalition settled into preparation mode, each noble family geared toward their expectations. From the flickering candlelight, ambition burned brightly—the fate of Lunaris burned like embers awaiting rekindling, a foreboding omen linking every vital decision made within the constricting hall.

“In the weeks to come, we set forth with the rising dawn’s courage,” Thaddeus proclaimed. “None shall deter us from our claim. Vigilance will favor our cause. We will write a new chapter in the annals of history!”

The mighty voices echoed through the Elder Manor, reverberating long after, and urged the atmosphere to swell with passion. Every family knew the price they would pay to seize power from Lunaris—the threat of a well-entrenched enemy took form, yet they held firm to the blood-soaked vision of success.

As destiny stretched toward chaos, the darkness around them wrapped tightly, veiling their ambitions in uncertainty. The **Caldris Coalition** would march into battle, standing on the precipice between glory and ruin.

And just beyond the horizon where the Coalition set its sights, the Lunaris forces stood poised, ready to confront the gathering storm. The clash of will and ambition was imminent—a dance balancing on the edge of blades thrumming against honor and dreams.

The tide of war approached, relentless like the weaving of fate itself.