A noble once sat at the kings council to offer guidance and wisdom

A noble once sat at the kings council to offer guidance and wisdom.

Now, he is just the lord of a minor town and its surrounding land.

How did it come to this?

The obvious answer seems like adultry.

A new faction came into power when the former king passed away and he was quietly removed from the court.

Retirement. He was an incredibly witty yet common merchant who somehow invested the king to invest in [insert literally the best investment ever], was appointed Lord of the Treasury for his council and after over two decades of loyal service was allowed to live out the rest of his days in peace on a minor estate somewhere near the frontier.

Well, it all started in the winter of the twenty fifth year of the Reign of Augustus Magnus, which would later prove to be also the last. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
You see, then, Lord Walter Davon was the king's 'Minister of Coin', which many believe to mean he was in charge of the kingdom's finances and commercial policies, and maybe taxes. That's incorrect though, as those are the domains of the Royal Treasurer and the Master of Collection, for the first and the last...While commercial policies are usually at the charge of the Chairman of the Trader's Guild, which is loyal to the king but not direct under His Majesty control.

Anyhow...Lord Walter Davon was in fact in charge of the actual coinage of new currency, it's distribution, and the protection of the king's official coins, be them a humble copper farthiling or the rarely seem or mentioned Golden crown, but more often than not, the silver scutum, sometimes also called shields. When his royal majesty got sick with no apparent heir and the courts began to shift restlessly preparing for a civil war between the Queen's older brother (and some suspect lover) and the King's cousin, Lord Walter Davon took advantage of the lack of attention paid to the king's advisors as both sides were mustering their forces and passed the most ridiculous law, calling for the taking of all silver shields in the land, to be returned to the royal treasury and offering letters of credit to those who had handled them, ensuring in those letters they would be paid in full, play a hundreth part, of the amounts 'confiscated' by the ministry of coin.

Sure there was a lot of resistance from some nobles, but the ministry was still an arm of the king and he wasn't dead yet. None of the two sides of the brewing civil war wanted to play their hands yet, and most nobles who were unsure about which side they would take didn't want to go at it alone against which was still the respectable army of the Crownlands...

The Crownlands forces were levied directly under the authority of the King and by extension his council. Augustus Magnus by them was getting sicker by the day and no one believed he'd last more than a week. So the shenanigans of a ambitious and likely crazy Minister of Coin did not interest the soon to be warring sides. They believe by the date of the king's death, the little coin hoarded in the capital's coffers would be useful to hire mercenaries to boost their sides. But the king held bravely for near two months of illness and when he finally died, the first snows of winter had already began to fall, and the amount of coin taken from the nobles was much greater than anticipated, as Lord Walter Davon was nothing if not efficient and diligent at his job. Unable to siege the capital during winter, both the contending armies stood on the seat of powers of the claimants to the throne during winter, and for the early month of spring, when they found in good sense to release their levies to sow the first harvest, but kept the knights and freemen mustered and ready to answer. By the time the spring seeds were planted, everyone was out of money. The letter of credits to redeem money from the Ministry of Coin were only good as long as there was a ministry of coin, and not very good to pay the soldiers. That's when the ministry of coin issue a proclamation of loyalty to a bastard son of Augustus Magnus, in a completely unexpected move, and funded his arrival at the capital with a small but determined forces of mercenaries from across the seas.

Prince Julianus took the throne and was crowned even as the Queen's armies besieged the walls of the capital, in hopes to assault them and quickly take hold of the treasure. But the king's cousin saw weakness in that move and rode past the capital to sack the lands belonging to the Queen's Brother, burning crops and killing cattle.

The queen's brother delayed aid to his land as much as he could but eventually became evident the capital was too well supplied and wouldn't surrender anytime soon, and assaulting it would mean fighting a terrible and decided garrison, which was soon to cost dearly on his troops. Plus, his forces were starving themselves, with his supplies line compromised. So he sacked a town in the crownlands for supplies and headed south with his army to strike at army of the former King's Cousin. They fought a blood battle you might have heard off, the young call it the Battle of Hornhill. Back them we just called it the Battle by Saint Jhon's Crossing.

The King's Cousin came out victorious and bloodied, having captured the three foremost commanders of the opposition, although they missed the Queen's Brother himself, who after the battle retreated to his old fortress to lick his wounds with what remained of his army. But as they marched to deal with the final threat before making their move in the capital, they were ambushed by the Crownlands army reinforced by mercenaries, fresh and well motivated. It was a clear victory to King Julianus forces, and following his victory, both leaders of the civil war were captured, as long as the Widower Queen herself, and sentenced to exile.

Lord Walter Davon, the archtect of the plan, was offered the title of duke, but he refused and prefered quiet lands in the north, with a comfortable estate to retire on.

bump

>Augustus Magnus
The Revered Great

That shit is literally worse than Akbar the Great

The noble was the Old King's stable master. He was raised to nobility as a reward for his friendship as the two were inseparable. More and more honours were heaped upon the upstarter who used his influence with the king to increase his power at court untill he became one of the major players.
When the Old King finally died he was swiftly outmanouvered in the political machinations at court and was for all intents and purposes exiled to the domain that was originally given to him by the Old King. Having grown old and bitter he now awaits his death while lecturing his ambitious sons about the dangers of hubris.

Who's to say this was necessarily a bad thing for him? Maybe he was tired of all of the infighting and intrigue of court life, and thought a quiet life in the country would be more his speed.

>putting it past a king to title himself The Revered Great

Unless it's a single piece of stone, that bridge would instantly collapse.

Racism.

What the fuck kind of name is "Silver Scrotum".

I forgot my question mark. I fucking hate when I do that.

Lord Zero Kaiser hailed from the south, where it wasn't uncommon to name children after numbers, plants, or stars, as all three of those things were believed by the old religions to be the same thing (don't ask). Most individuals in the court were unaware of this, thinking his name to be an assumed moniker, in much the same way that celebrities will do, which was fortunate as the name "Zero" was typically considered a badge of shame. But I digress.

Most people, including the king himself, believed that when Lord Kaiser had volunteered for the position it was an attempt to gain favor, as he was an outlander and had done little to hide his attempts at doing so in the past. He'd gone so far as to loudly declare, while bowing in the most elaborate and attention getting way that he could on one knee, that he would personally travel to the frontier town and give whatever aid he could, even going so far as to spend his personal fortune to bring with him much needed supplies. His Majesty was virtually forced, to save face of course, to not just grant him lordship over the town but to provide him with a small escort of soldiers, hand picked by Lord Kaiser himself.

The other nobles watched him leave with quite a bit more pomp and circumstance than the situation warranted, riding at the very front of the caravan of purchased goods while the escorts flanked the wagons and took up the rear. The nobles, annoyed by his actions, were only too happy to see him go, and even the King thought him something of a fool, as the soldiers he picked were mostly of lower rank, having few achievements between themselves, not so much as a single hero among them, though Lord Kaiser had plenty of opportunity to take at least one proper knight with him.

This was all by design...

The caravan consisted of twenty five individuals. The soldiers where a mixture, six senior enlisted, most of them old town guards with a couple trading caravan escorts who had, in their words, "tangled with more bandits than anyone should ever even see", eight junior soldier, including two ladies who made up for their stature by relying on crossbows, and one "officer". The older men were mostly old town guards with a couple trading caravan escorts who had, in their own words, "tangled with more bandits than anyone should ever see". They were all of the type keen to find a safe billet to fill, though no less dedicated to their duties. The younger soldier were all eager to prove themselves and had been convinced that great deeds happened no in war but on the frontier. Finally, the "officer" was called as such because any who were formally schooled in the capitals mage college must either pay through coin (which only the wealthiest could afford) or by accepting a commission. The lieutenant had been eager to come along, as his not-quite human heritage, betrayed by his eyes, left him few friends in the capital. This had proven to be Lord Kaisers biggest challenge, as he'd had to find people who did not think less of someone whose eyes shone of blood and obsidian, one who had a habit of speaking only draconic, and then only to his raven familiar.

In addition to the soldiers, the caravan was piloted by three self educated mages, all of whom had apprenticed themselves to the lieutenant (which came as something of a shock to him when he found out). The alchemist and the artificer became fast friends due to their habit of, as the alchemists father would put is, "letting their imaginations make plans that their skill and patience could follow". The young evoker alternated between harassing the lieutenant for knowledge and (poorly) trying to impress the young lady monk.

The lordship, while far from the kingdom's capital, is actually a promotion for years of loyal service.

oh boo fucking hoo

The clerics were of a monastic order that operated primarily outside the walls of the capital proper. The senior monk was old, in his eighties, and had fanatically devoted himself to healing all who needed help, down to the lowest of criminals and murderers. He'd taken his three charges, a lady just entering adulthood and twin teen boys, as he had been informed that the church of the sun had abandoned the town and he would not let a town exist without a healer.

What all these individuals, unknown to his majesty and the court, had in common was that with exactly one exception none of them had a family to leave behind, and the alchemist had brought his along with him. His father was a blacksmith of little renown as he worked not with iron but with bronze, and his mother mostly helped his father in the shop and cared for the home. In the capital the man had found little work, but on the frontier even if there was already another blacksmith the need for tools would ensure him work. His son had studied alchemy at the local temple hoping to find ways to strengthen his fathers bronze creations, as he'd become convinced that there were alchemical concoctions and enchantments that would only work on certain bronze alloys, techniques that had not been discovered due to the relative unpopularity of bronze implements.

Only the senior soldiers, the elder monk, and the lieutenant noticed the immediate shift in demeanor that Lord Kaiser displayed. He still wore his finery until they made camp for the first night, and never again after that. He ever so subtly show disapproval whenever someone would refer to him as "mi'lord", and the habit had died out in just a couple days. He made a habit of chatting with with everyone using the same tone, treating the lieutenant, the blacksmith, and the twin healers as equals (a habit that the officer silently but vehemently approved of).

By the time they had arrived at the tiny town surrounding the tiny fort, the group had become something of a band of brothers, unwilling to part, at least long enough for some pretty young thing to sink their hooks into the young men and anchor themselves.

You see, what everyone had failed to understand was that this had been Lord Kaisers intention from before he'd so much as stepped foot in the capital. He never wanted to fuff around with arrogant nobles who thought grovelling at the kings feet somehow constituted a contribution to society. This town had been plagued by raids from non-humans, and this is what Lord Kaiser had wanted all along. He was certain that if he could create a truly metropolitan society, if he could do away with the prejudices enough to at least get non-humans tolerated, that he could accomplish something truly grand. In the swamp the lizard folk preyed on the kobalds, ironically showing more hatred for their own kin than the human invaders. Lord Kaiser hoped to integrate the lizard folk, but was willing to earn gratitude from the kobalds, with their strange sorceries, by simply wiping out their enemies. In the forests there were rumored to dwell a cabal of druids, human in the loosest sense. These he thought would be not too difficult to deal with, simply trading a promise not to encroach on certain territories in exchange for certain services. Integrating them into the town would prove far more difficult, but any friendly relations over time would make it easier, if painfully slow. Finally, the mountains in the distance were home to harpies, too far to threaten the village but not so far that communication and trade were off the table.

Lord Kaiser had no intention of becoming a king, of rivaling his majesty or threatening the kingdom. He didn't crave power. This was only his little social experiment, his way of showing the world a better way. He smiled as his little group approached his new town.

Fuck, I repeated myself. Herp Derp etc.

The more I read this the more I cringe. I really should have proof read this one.

Old King died, new King had no use for him. Such is life. He wouldn't have liked working for him, anyway.

Resigned his office when his advice was not received, and returned to his fief.

His royal highness isn't quite the brilliant liege the kingdom needs at the helm. Unfortunate, considering the tangle of marriages between cadet branches needed to bring the kingdom back under one rule.

So while the glorious monarch whiles away his time with an endless chain of jesters and courtesans, the councilors and vassals take up the task of running the realm. All with the royal seal stamped on every decree, mind you. The true power in the realm is dragged back and forth between majordomos and stewards, chancellors and priests. And when a particularly ambitious noble finally wrangled enough of them together to displace the sitting regent...

...well, he didnt quite count on the king making a decision for himself for once in his life. The regent was able to keep the monarch from executing the rest, out of fear for civil war, but measures were taken.

And so, polite exile.