The harvest of the earth is intimately bound to the marriage of skill and industry. When the art of cultivation is observed by the vigilant, or mastered through necessity—be it active or passive—people discover that the same grueling toil, when applied with wisdom, yields a far more stable and abundant supply of food.

　　This evolution of farming gradually anchored humanity to the soil, giving rise to settled life—a monumental leap toward civilized society. As food surpluses grew, a portion of the population was liberated from the fields to pursue other callings. The emergence of craftsmen and the domestication of livestock provided the motive power to refine agricultural tools, further accelerating the development of the land.

　　In the meticulous rhythm of tilling and sowing, men of robust strength found a theater for their capabilities. At the same time, the accumulation of social wealth demanded effective coordination and governance. Thus, leaders emerged from the masses—visionaries who used their ingenuity not only to solve the crises of the day but to sow the seeds of civilization for posterity. These were the origins of a people, the opening notes of a long and arduous journey.

　　During the height of the Willem Dynasty, the King’s armies pushed to the very edge of the eastern forests. The King granted these lands to his veterans, establishing lordships to ensure permanent ownership. The tribes living within the woods watched these laboring Limidians with curiosity; out of sheer ignorance, they scoffed at their techniques and mocked their toil.

　　Yet, when they beheld the sight of overflowing granaries, their mockery turned to bitter envy. They sought to plunder the livestock and grain, even emboldening themselves to challenge the veterans and their descendants. But after tasting the cold steel of Limidian blades, these tribes went to Hedlim in humility. They presented modest gifts to King Willem with trembling hands and began, at last, to learn the art of farming from the Limidians.

　　As the Willem era drew to a close and the dynastic system crumbled into fragments, these forest tribes sought to snatch a piece of the wreckage for themselves. Swelling with misplaced confidence, they marched westward. Their ambitions were first checked by a magistrate from Feriatino, and subsequently, their path of retreat was severed by other lords. This forced them to re-evaluate their own strength and their precarious relationship with the Limidians.

　　During these clashes with the forest tribes, a group of laborers who had spent their lives serving the Royal House took up arms for their own survival. Wielding weapons of their own making, they rose to repel the tribal incursions. In the name of protecting Royal property, they raised defensive walls and stood their ground with iron resolve.

　　After repelling the forest tribes, their brilliant leader, Morris Nordis, traveled to Hedlim. Citing his service in defeating the barbarians, he secured a mandate from the weak King. This decree not only elevated Morris to the rank of Baron within the Willem Dynasty but also liberated his band of laborers from their status as royal servants, making them freemen. With spirits soaring, Morris led his people to reclaim Sawin, where they repaired the shattered fortresses and took charge of the local defense.

　　Bisi Nordla was among this resolute band. Having transitioned from a humble blacksmith to a military commander, he accepted the Baron’s commission to safeguard the security of Winst, Demis, and Dawin. In those early days, the Baron lacked the resources to provide tangible support. Instead, he won the loyalty of his men by granting them privileges through parchment scrolls embossed with the Baronial seal.

　　Under the Baron’s authority, Bisi recruited and trained soldiers from the three villages under his charge. He studied the local conditions and sought counsel from the farmers, meticulously balancing the times of sowing and harvest with the needs of defense. He issued strict orders ensuring that the people worked according to the seasons and the growth cycles of their crops to secure the harvest, while still carving out time for military drills.

　　These drills were forged in the crucible of practical combat, overseen by lower-ranking officers under Bisi’s command. The villagers provided their own weapons—mostly short axes, spears, and bows. To possess a short sword forged of metal was considered a mark of high status. Blessed by the gods, the people of Nor remained far removed from the barbarians of the west, watching from a distance as the forest tribes descended into internal strife.

　　However, after two years of infighting, the Binair tribe emerged victorious under the leadership of Vedika. During the earlier wars against the Limidians, he had been the sole survivor of the chieftain’s family. In a somber, meager ceremony, Vedika received the chieftain’s axe from his mortally wounded elder brother—the very axe their father had passed to the brother only days before.

　　Vedika united his panicked tribesmen and used force to disperse the rampaging bandits, vowing to break free from the extortion and threats of the Dairis. This tribe had once been friendly, helping the Binair escape the pursuit of the Limidians. But once the Dairis fell under the control of a cunning, lame descendant, he began demanding "repayment." Taking a threatening stance, he seized a tract of farmland that rightfully belonged to the Binair.

　　During the struggle with the Dairis tribe, Vedika was struck in the right eye by an arrow. In his final days, the wound caused the chieftain agonizing torment. In this hour of crisis, his wife, Madeline, stepped forward to shoulder the heavy burdens of both family and tribe. This woman possessed a physique that was robust yet graceful, and a temperament that was as bold as it was meticulous.

　　She skillfully exploited the internal rifts within the Dairis. A minor chieftain and his small band were swayed by Madeline’s silver tongue, allowing the Binair to secure a local tactical advantage. The lame Dairis leader—who had long ago been crippled in a riding accident—was abandoned by his routed followers and left to draw his last breath beneath their trampling feet. Ultimately, a naive youth was seated upon the Dairis throne, a puppet that allowed a satisfied Madeline to re-establish the alliance on her own terms.

　　Such deeds vindicated her own capabilities and her late husband’s vision. She took in refugees and settled them in Binair, bringing the wastelands under the plow, and enacted laws to protect the vulnerable. Once the tribe achieved stability, she dispatched envoys to neighboring clans in the name of collective security, fostering goodwill and weaving a web of alliances.

　　Bisi Nordla admired this woman’s prowess, yet he harbored a quiet dread that her rising strength might jeopardize the security of his fiefdom. Some time later, the Burnley tribe—the clan closest to the Limidians—held a summit with the Binair "Iron Lady." Through a series of mystic rituals, they forged a pact between their two peoples.

　　By now, Madeline had secured the submission of the weaker clans, while others aligned with Binair out of sheer pragmatism or a desire for safety. Standing now as a queen, the female chieftain received the Baron’s envoy with a cold, haughty air. Upon hearing of the Baron’s rank among the Limidian nobility, she even demanded that the lowly messenger bow before her. When he refused, she asked him with biting arrogance:

　　"Is it not out of fear that you have sent an envoy here to sue for peace?"

　　"Noble leader," the envoy replied, "I bear the King’s mission and my lord’s solemn charge to deliver a message of peace. That is the only reason I stand before you. Furthermore, it is my understanding that you have received no mandate or title from the court of King Willem."

　　"Your honeyed words weary me," Madeline countered. "Is there any peace left for Limidians? Your feeble King possesses nothing but a hollow title and a threadbare court. He is powerless to master this chaos and can only watch as his nobles devour one another. Your own people, in their desperation, even flee to us for sanctuary."

　　"In the golden age of the Dynasty," the envoy stood firm, "even the lowliest subject felt the King’s grace, and the weakest found safety in his majesty. The mightiest of enemies once bowed their heads in the court of Hedlim. The ancestors of these very forest tribes once stood upon those palace steps alongside the steppe barbarians, waiting for the King’s summons.

　　Your tribes once invaded Limidian lands during the chaos. Though we suffered losses, we secured the final victory. Did you and your husband—and indeed your entire clan—not barely escape that war with your lives?"

　　Though left speechless, Madeline remained contemptuous, viewing his words as the desperate rhetoric of the weak. Nevertheless, she honored their mutual pledge, and no border was crossed. It was only when her son, Burgess, ascended the throne that the strategy of caution was cast aside. He arrogantly declared his intent to demand tribute from the Limidians.

　　Yet Burgess could not restrain the haughty forest nobles. They claimed they had no desire for conflict, wishing only to live undisturbed in their rural manors, sustained by their crops. Furthermore, he learned that one chieftain had even entered into a marriage alliance with Bisi’s family.

　　During this time, Baron Morris became embroiled in a land dispute with a Limidian lord, an argument that quickly escalated from words to the clashing of blades. In the ensuing struggle, Morris was horrified to find forest tribal warriors in the enemy’s ranks; he nearly lost his life in a battle where he was hopelessly outnumbered.

　　Accepting Bisi’s counsel, Morris traveled to Hedlim with lavish gifts to seek an audience with the King. The Baron accused his rival of being a lawless ruffian who had colluded with the forest tribes to seize land legally granted by the Crown.

　　The King ruled in the Baron’s favor, issuing a decree that blasted the encroachments of Lord Dreste and condemned his collusion with the forest barbarians. While other Limidian lords were reluctant to start a new war, they joined in the condemnation. The weight of public opinion forced Dreste to stand down, for any further military action would be branded as rebellion and treason.

　　The Royal decree granted the Baron’s actions a cloak of legitimacy. His forces moved into the undefended lands to assert sovereignty, while Bisi seized the moment to launch a strike against the Burnley tribe. Their chieftain had previously accepted Dreste’s invitation to attack Nor for plunder. The prowess of the Nor forces proved the value of their rigorous training. Just days before the messengers brought word that an army was at his gates, the Burnley chieftain had accepted a gift of a pure black pearl from a Nor envoy.

　　The chieftain had laughed at the messenger’s warning—until he climbed into his tree-house and saw the relentless movement of troops in the distance. Only then did he wake from his dream. He frantically sounded the call to arms, only to find his people had already scattered. With no time even to pack his belongings, he fled with his family to a neighboring tribe. Bisi entered the chieftain’s private storehouse, piled high with treasures, and calmly declared that everything now belonged to Nor.

　　Bisi rewarded his men with a portion of the spoils, sending them home satisfied, while the rest of the treasure and news of the victory were sent to the Baron. Per the Baron’s promise, Bisi was to be the magistrate of this new land. However, this expansion stirred a cold suspicion in the Baron's heart. Bisi’s military triumphs made Morris desire to test his own son against his vassal. After a period of preparation, the Baron’s son, Worsil, was ordered to lead a new offensive against the forest tribes.

　　But Worsil did not fulfill his father’s hopes. He suffered a crushing defeat in a clash with the tribes; had he not ordered a timely retreat, Nor would have suffered catastrophic losses, and Worsil himself would have been captured. The humiliated Baron could offer nothing but a title of Viscount and a Royal commendation as hollow comfort.

　　The forest tribes formed a league for collective defense, yet while they obeyed their shared councils, they refused to submit to the command of any single leader. This loose union marginalized the powerful Burgess and the Carnel tribe, but its decentralized nature left them blind to the shifting tides of the future.

　　Bisi planned a preemptive offensive in his sector to end the incessant and irritating skirmishes. However, the Viscount’s envoys reached the enemy first, delivering a signal of peace and signing an "equal treaty." While this brought a season of calm to the border, it also paralyzed Bisi’s ability to move against the tribes. The Viscount had learned that Bisi intended to act without the Baron’s orders and sought to curb his ambition.

　　When Worsil Nordis inherited his father’s title, he maintained a friendly facade with neighboring lords and tribes while remaining inwardly vigilant. For a long time, Bisi had sought to expand his fief by attacking the tribes under the guise of "suppressing barbarians." The treaty Worsil signed became a wall against Bisi’s ambitions, fueling a bitter feud between the lord and his vassal.

　　Bisi Nordla had three sons, all of whom were loyal subordinates and capable aides. Yet, by a strange quirk of fate, not one of them had a male heir. This filled Bisi with dread for the future; according to the laws of the land, the Viscount would have the right to seize the fief upon Bisi’s death if no male heir existed.

　　Bisi resolved to force his eldest son to dissolve his marriage to Christine and instead wed Savia of Neramo—a widow who had birthed eleven children, nine of whom were still in robust health. His eldest son, Lenar, was revolted by the plan, refusing to abandon his life partner and soulmate. Christine’s father, Ryan, also went to the Viscount in a fury, declaring he would not tolerate such an insult to his daughter and his house.

　　Christine’s ancestors were both valiant veterans and industrious farmers who had earned their freedom and rewards through courage. Though their household still held a rustic air after generations, they maintained a proud martial tradition. The men were gallant, and the women were gentle yet firm.

　　The Viscount issued a sharp condemnation. He declared that as a vassal of the lord and a commander of the army, Bisi should restrain his conduct and observe the codes of etiquette as an example to the people, rather than making such a ridiculous decision that violated the law and invited ridicule. Furthermore, given Bisi’s rank, such a marital dispute was for the Lord to adjudicate.

　　In their desperation, Lenar and Christine turned to Bimor, a trusted courtier who could speak plainly to Bisi. Bimor went alone to Bisi’s manor, but the old commander coldly told him: "Hand over the hiding Lenar, or face the dungeon."

　　With nowhere left to turn, a broken-hearted Lenar submitted to his father’s arrangement. The Viscount viewed this as a direct challenge to his authority, warning Bisi that his lack of virtue made him unworthy of his title and lands. Driven by either arrogance or blind rage, Bisi Nordla took a desperate gamble: he launched an armed attack against his own lord.

　　In the ensuing clash, Bisi’s second son was slain by soldiers under Ryan Skorn. Bisi’s own troops had no heart for fighting their lord; when they saw their commander fall, they threw down their arms. A grieving Bisi attempted to take his own life but failed. He was hauled to the capital to face the Lord’s judgment.

　　Taking pity on Bisi’s past service and moved by Lenar’s plea to take his father’s punishment upon himself, the Lord granted Bisi mercy. He was sentenced to live under constant surveillance in the capital. Lenar inherited his father’s rank, but the vast lands of Winst, Demis, and Dawin were stripped away, leaving him with only the ancestral Burnley lands.

　　No sooner had this internal strife ended than urgent news arrived from the border. The son of Count Dreste had inherited his father’s old grudge over the land dispute. Seeing Nor weakened by civil strife, he moved to strike. However, the Viscount’s lingering suspicion of Bisi led him to issue a secret order; Bisi died shortly thereafter of a "mysterious illness."

　　Dreste expected an easy surprise attack against a weary foe, but his clumsy, sluggish movements were spotted by vigilant Nor outposts. Worsil ordered a pursuit and promised his army that all spoils would belong to the men who took them.

　　Despite having had no sleep, the exhilarated Nor troops pursued the enemy as far as Lebis. There, Worsil met with representatives of several lords who had raised the banner of peace for "mediation"—though their motives were entirely self-serving. The Viscount gladly accepted, and after some haggling, all parties returned satisfied with Dreste’s concessions.

　　While the world’s gaze was fixed on Laria leading the victorious Colibia forces westward, the Nor troops were sharpening their blades on their own border, preparing to strike the Libert tribe. The Libert chieftain had been loudly claiming that his borders were "insecure."

　　However, this chieftain did not seek friendship. When a neighbor, Buzel, fell into a commercial dispute with the Limidians, Libert intervened to sabotage the negotiations, inciting a conflict between Buzel and Nor so that he might scavenge the remains.

　　Before the war, the Libert chieftain sent a unit to Buzel under the guise of "defensive aid." He calculated that Nor would soon clash with Buzel, allowing his men to act as the situation dictated. But Nor exploited Libert’s own empty defenses, launching a dawn raid with an elite force.

　　They broke through a simple defense, routed the lazy guards, and torched the tents. They pressed on to a manor, driving out the inhabitants and pursuing them far enough to sow mass panic. When the terrified people signaled the invasion to their chieftain, he frantically recalled his "aid" unit.

　　The return of the Nor strike team was the signal for the main host to launch a general offensive against Buzel. Viscount Worsil led every able-bodied man in the territory. Buzel, powerless against the prepared foe, crumbled and sent pleas for help to Libert and Winris.

　　Libert claimed he could offer no aid, and Winris had already been bought by the Limidians’ generous promise of spoils in exchange for their neutrality. Winris did, however, take in the defeated Buzel chieftain as a dependent exile. The Nor forces, after a brief rest, left a detachment to maintain order and turned their full fury toward Libert.

　　The two sides clashed in a dense wood. The Nor troops deployed at dawn, and after a long day of skirmishing, Worsil followed advice to withdraw from the forest to secure his supply lines. Meanwhile, his messengers returned from King Willem’s court with a favorable reply, granting him the legal right to use force against the forest tribes in the name of "suppressing barbarians."

　　After refitting, the Nor army goaded the enemy with constant harassment. Nor envoys also worked behind the scenes, offering a high enough price to convince the neighboring Lord Samolai to mass troops on the enemy’s border as a diversion.

　　The second showdown took place on open ground. A dizzying hail of arrows and the harassment of light cavalry quickly threw the Libert forces into chaos. When the battle ended, the Limidians feasted on Libert’s grain and wine, washing away the shame of Worsil’s past defeats.

　　Lord Samolai’s army entered the scene in a jubilant mood, loading their wagons with treasure. They watched with curiosity as the Nor soldiers hauled away a crude tribal idol. Nor subsequently proclaimed that the gods of the woods no longer protected the people; if they wished for sanctuary, they had no choice but to become subjects of Nor.