VRMMO: World's First Glyphborne

The Country of Lucetania, the land in which they currently found themselves, was split into Five Dukedoms named; Caradja, Redmarch, Aeron, Tharivel and Solthia.

These consisted of various smaller counties, and even more cities, and to rule over each one there was a singular family, the head of which was known as the Duke, or Duchess in the cases that the leader was a woman.

How these families decided their leaders was ultimately up to them, after all, the King only cared that the individual in charge understood that they answered to him. If that was clear and understood, then how they were chosen was of little consequence to him. Especially when he could just execute those who were performing inadequately.

In the Duchy of Solthia, it was done purely by age. The eldest child ruled, until they died and then either their eldest child took over or, failing that, the sibling next in line.

It was a rather simple system, but opened itself up to a lot of spy-craft and deception, with some killing each other over the chance at the position and what not.

Carada and Tharivel were based on meritocracy, with their current Duke or Duchess handing down the title to whomever they deemed the most worthy of it. Be it a brother, daughter or great grandchild.

This was considered fairer by some, but did little to quell the murderous nature of some of the more jealous nobles, and in the case that the Duke or Duchess was killed by a jealous loser, competitions were held and the winner gained the title. This happened more often than they would like.

Not much was known about Aeron. They lived far in the North, and their methods of deciding their next Duke was kept a tight family secret. So much so that if one married into the family, they would always be taken to Aeron to live. Never being able to leave without enchantments to ensure the secrecy.

As for Redmarch, it was decided purely by strength. Anyone, at any point, could challenge the current leader to a duel. The winner gained, or kept, the title. Some of these were to the death, others were not.

A lot of the Redmarch clans positions and hierarchy was based on duels and strength. So naturally, it just had to be the Duchy of Redmarch that the city of Gracia was located within.

Which made this individual Lucian Redmarch the Fifth. The longest ruling Duke in all of Redmarch history.

"By rite of blood, these creatures belong to me. I have defeated them by my own hand, and thus their bodies are mine to do with what I please.

Are there any present that oppose my rightful claim?" Lucian said as he landed his flying mount, A Royal Quagriff, and stood before them with his head held high.

His entire demeanour overflowed with grace, nobility and confidence. Despite the fact that, unlike the beast he had killed, he had no aura surrounding him in the slightest, he had not a hint of fear at the dozens of heavily armed Graceless surrounding him.

It was a sight that should have instilled into the Players caution and wariness of a trap. But then again, intelligence and critical thinking was not a strong suit for many.

"You killed them?" Someone within the crowds shouted, under the delusion that the Duke was simply the average man they sensed he was, "I didn’t see you fighting anywhere! You just showed up claiming it. You don’t own anything!"

"Yeah rich boy! What’s stopping us killing you and just taking it!" Another shouted, causing murmurs to spread through the crowds of players.

The Duke glanced around at the steadily growing unrest, as Players readied their weapons and began to chant their spells, and simply chuckled to himself.

"Very well. The challenge has been heard, and I accept."

Roughly thirty players charged forwards, with more holding back to prepare ranged spells or attack, whilst the Duke remained still. Without any sense of hurry, he slowly drew a longsword from the sheathe on his hip, allowing its blade to gleam in the sunlight.

One swing. That was all he performed. A single swing, and not a particularly strong one either. It was a lazy, bored swing like that of a child hitting at weeds with a stick.

Yet from this lazy, half hearted swing, poured utter devastation. A silver wave of light erupted from the tip of the blade, following its lazy arc through the air before rushing forward to meet the charging army of players.

The light wave carved through them like they were nothing but air. Not slowing or seeming to have any hint of resistance, as it travelled through their numbers and culled them completely. It travelled far enough to slaughter the mages at the back, cutting through their panicked spells just as easily as it did their bodies.

Seeing the destruction and slaughter before him, Lucian let out a disappointed sigh and sheathed his sword again. Treating the entire affair as if it was simply another chore.

"Hmm... I had hoped for more when I had heard about the rapid growth of the Graceless. Just another disappointment, it seems. Well, do any others wish to make a challenge?"

He glanced around expectantly, as if he was actually waiting for someone to volunteer after the one sided slaughter they had just witnessed, before he sighed again.

He strolled over to Belladonna’s body and scooped her up, before placing her onto the back of his Royal Quagriff. High above in the sky, a small army of similar creatures, although with muddy brown feathers instead of the pure white, were slowly descending from the clouds to collect the Dragons body.

"Excuse me..." Vestra muttered as she slowly approached the Dukes Royal Quagriff, earning a bored and narrow eyed glance from him.

"The Dragon I understand... But What do you plan on doing with that one?"

He smirked slightly, nudging his Royal Quagriff causing it to spread its wings wide.

"What I plan to do, is whatever I like. I have rite of blood, the right to keep what you kill. A custom I know your kind share. You do not need to know much more than that, unless you plan to challenge me for it."

Vestra shrunk backwards, holding her staff nervously against her chest as she kept glancing towards Belladonna’s body. She had tried to create an illusion to hide the body, but everything she tried to craft simply shattered before it could properly form, and she had no idea why.

Seeing that she was not accepting the challenge, the Duke sighed again, before kicking his mighty steed again and promptly launching into the air with a single beat of its mighty wings.

Leaving the collection of the dragon to his approaching men, he retreated back to the city, with the most valuable prize in his possession.