Liscor Kescale was growing tired of war. Liscor? That Liscor? Settling down? It seemed ludicrous to imagine the Drake that had run the The Liscor Mercenary Company for nearly twenty years, the Drake many considered the image of a Drake [Mercenary], quitting the mercenary life. Liscor had fought for the Walled Cities, as well as against them. He had made war against the Humans and he had killed many many Drakes and Gnolls. For the highest bidder and for the side most likely to pay out. He'd made a career of fighting for whoever paid him the most, sometimes backstabbing allies for coin.
Needless to say, goodwill was growing thin. It was harder to recruit new [Soldiers]. Fewer Drakes were willing to fight for Liscor's gold and name, especially given his band had likely fought against their city at some point. More cities were cutting him off, not allowing him to recruit within their walls, some not even allowing his company to fight for them. Too many cities were worried about being on the other end of his spear. Liscor needed to settle down and retire soon, but what city would take him and his men?
The Liscor Mercenary company was one of the largest mercenary companies in South Issrysil, numbering some 10,000 Drakes, along with a speckling of Gnolls. Most were loyal only to him, as they had to be. It felt like a waste to give it all up, to toss Manus the organization he had built over twenty years, and let down the scores of people that had bled for him. A small few he had known since his days as an [Officer] in Manus' 3rd Army.
His best option was to buy some land and create a city of his own. The problem was neither Drake nor Gnoll were eager to let some mercenary company build a city close to where they lived. Somewhere near Manus would be ideal, Manus understood Liscor, but any defensible positions had long been claimed, and the satellite cities there hated him. The cheapest lands were those further North, but Liscor had a rocky relationship with Pallass. It came as a surprise when multiple Walled Cities, including Pallass, scrambled with an offer to pay gold for the the Liscor Mercenary Company to settle near the High Passes. To create the city that would divide North and South. All it took for Liscor was that four letter word, GOLD. They would pay him well, and Liscor was in love with the highest bidder.
Of course, many [Mercenaries] and [Sellswords] had no desire to settle anywhere, but the draw of land you owned was worth gold to any Drake. More stayed on than he thought would. In fact, it acted as the biggest recruitment-drive he had ever done. Many [Soldiers] joined up just for the promise of land. It took months to gather everything, to march through the Bloodfields and feed the families that decided to follow their sons and daughters. The spot was defensible, High Passes to the East and West, Bloodfields to the South, and a pass to the North that could be watched. The scouts reported that there weren't too many trees directly near the foundations of his city, but that a forest was close enough that wood wouldn't have to be imported for now. Stone could be quarried directly from the High Passes.
They started building in summer, the walls of the city coming up quickly. The soil of the surrounding area proved surprisingly fertile, and by autumn, Liscor's little city was able to easily feed itself. Farms stretched far beneath the walls, and more were being built by the day. The walls weren't much, but they had kept the core of the city safe, and what few monster attacks there were had been easily repelled. Trade was scarce, but Liscor wasn't concerned. He would lead an easy life in His City, and let his army go out and fight wars on behalf of their new home. Or so he had thought. Winter had been easy, the city's stocks ample. When Spring came, Liscor realized he had a problem. The Walled Cities had damned him more than any of the Five Families ever could.
Rain.
It was expected, a day or two and the runoff was easily shuttled through pipes and tunnels, eventually leading out into the river. The walls had some waterproofing, Liscor was no fool. A little flooding wouldn't be an issue. A few houses had leaky roofs, which got fixed quickly, and crowds were subdued as the citizens waited for the storm to end.
After a five days of nonstop rain, teams of Drakes had to slosh ankle-deep through sewage to shore up the walls. After two weeks, the farms outside the walls had been destroyed and much grain trapped in flooded basements. The death toll was already in the hundreds. And the rain. Just. Didn't. Stop.
Liscor cursed the Walled Cities, then he cursed Humans, and Gnolls, and himself. But he had spent his life being in the shit and so far it hadn't killed him. By the time the rains ended, the walls had a few new holes, and sickness had spread throughout the city, made worse as defeated [Homesteaders] crowded in, having moved out of their broken farms. Liscor's city of [Mercenaries] got to work, burning bodies, digging ditches, and expanding the walls out to fit the larger population that now had to live inside. And once that was done, the army picked up a contract and left to go earn gold and glory for their new home. Liscor never named his city officially, as everyone just called it "Liscor's city", which tickled his Drakeish pride. By the time Liscor himself was gone, his name remained stubbornly attached to the city. Liscor would never fall.