When the urgent call for reinforcements from Vosglade Fortress came through, the officials in Praag had no idea of the exact situation.
The military commander of Praag, appointed by Tsarina Katarin, was General Pavlov—a distinguished soldier who had served since the early reign of the Red Tsar, Boris Bokha. Pavlov had fought in nearly all the Red Tsar's campaigns and had even assisted the Empire by purging the Beastmen from the Shadow Forest of Ostermark. Unlike the generals purged after Katarin's rise to power, Pavlov was known for his loyalty and adherence to orders, which had earned him Katarin's favor. His status had actually risen after the Winter War, leading to his appointment as Praag's defense chief.
Upon receiving the urgent plea from Vosglade, Pavlov quickly convened a council with the boyars, generals, and nobles of Praag. The messenger's report was brief and vague, as he had left the fortress immediately after the initial attack. All he could tell General Pavlov was that Vosglade was besieged by a sizable Chaos army equipped with artillery and bearing Nurgle banners, and that they desperately needed reinforcements.
Confused, Pavlov muttered, "Wasn't the barbarian force supposed to be heading toward a final showdown with the Dark Elves? Why have they suddenly turned south and laid siege to Vosglade?"
The messenger's observations were undeniably accurate, and Pavlov knew the northern tribes were never known for their logic or reliability. However, the Duma representative dispatched by Katarin reminded Pavlov that the entire kingdom was busy preparing for the millennial celebration, and it would be highly inappropriate to disturb the Tsarina over this matter. As the appointed commander of Praag's defense, Pavlov was expected to handle the issue himself.
Pavlov hesitated, knowing how seriously Katarin regarded the upcoming celebration. Yet, as a soldier, he felt there might be more to the situation. He ultimately decided to dispatch two scouting parties to gather more information before taking further action.
But twenty-four hours passed, and neither scouting party returned.
What no one knew was that this delay had squandered the precious time that the defenders at Vosglade had bought with their lives.
After a full day with no response, Pavlov began to realize something was amiss.
He then issued what would later be seen as a grave and costly mistake: instead of immediately reporting to Kislev's court, he simply followed protocol, assembling a force of five thousand men from Praag's regular army, supplemented by nearby Ugol tribesmen and Kislevite soldiers. Armed with firearms, this force set off to relieve Vosglade.
Unfortunately, the Chaos army lay in ambush along the road to Vosglade. Exhausted from forced marches and ill-prepared, with most soldiers not even fully armored, they were slaughtered by Festus, the Nurgle-chosen champion, and his troops.
After more time passed with no word from the reinforcement force, officials in Praag began to suspect they had underestimated the threat.
Meanwhile, October had arrived in the Empire's year 2514 (Kislev's 999th year) in the Old World. In Bretonnia, while the Praag reinforcements lay dead in the forests near Vosglade, King Ryan was vacationing at Angron's estate. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, Ryan hadn't completely left his work behind, effectively turning the villa's garden into a secondary office.
Without any way of knowing what was happening thousands of miles away in Kislev, Ryan spent his afternoon horseback riding around the estate, sparring with Angron in a friendly duel. The sparring left Ryan bruised and bleeding, with a bloody nose and purple welts, but he had managed to land a few blows on Angron as well, leaving a footprint on his forehead and even cracking his arm guards and shoulder armor.
Ryan's son, young Devonshire, watched his father get beaten with enthusiastic cheers for "Uncle Angron!" Ryan, irritated, later found an excuse to give Devonshire a gentle smack on the backside and had Olica add extra peppers to the boy's dinner, much to his dismay.
Queen Sulia, finding her husband's childish side endearing, privately explained to Devonshire that he should be more considerate, as both his father and uncles deserved equal respect.
Having apologized, young Devonshire was forgiven and rewarded with his favorite meal of finger-licking fried chicken—a dish introduced by the Kislevite sage Harlan Sanders, who now operated popular restaurants across Bretonnia, the Empire, Estalia, and even Sartosa.
"He changed the world with fried chicken." — Emperor Karl Franz (thumbs up)
After dinner, as the stars shone in the cool autumn sky, Angron asked Ryan about St. Gilles in the estate's open-air courtyard.
"The soul of St. Gilles and the Phoenix Scroll have been delivered to the Huitlax Great Pyramid in the Isthmus of Lustria," Ryan replied thoughtfully. "The High Slann Lord Mazdamundi is using the ancient powers of the Old Ones to help cleanse St. Gilles of his curse. But according to my brother Fugen, this process will take time—at least four seasons per healing cycle. When each cycle ends, the released energy will attract powerful enemies. Chaos, Skaven, and even the Dark Elves or High Elves seeking secrets could come."
"Someone will undoubtedly try to seize St. Gilles' soul," Angron mused. "Before the Siege of Terra, Khorne's servant, Ka'Bandha, came to me with Khorne's offer. Khorne wanted an angel—someone willing to forsake everything and everyone if necessary."
"So Khorne got his red angel," Ryan replied with a smirk.
"Ha! I'm not the angel Khorne wanted." Angron shook his head. "This life suits me. A farm, family, a bit of peace... I'll never work for the Emperor again. That Angron died long ago on Nuceria and Armageddon. Ryan, if you ever feel the same, I'd support you."
"You've been through enough, my brother. Rest well," said Sulia, joining in as she recalled Ryan's recent stories about Angron. Ryan had told her of the days when Angron was a mad, ruthless warrior, sparring recklessly with his sons under a strict code. She remembered that the Emperor had even sent Leman Russ to confront Angron.
After some more talk, Angron left to inspect the pig pen, as one of his pigs had reportedly grown two heads. According to the Custodes, it was just a natural mutation and nothing more. The Custodes later confiscated the pig, declaring it free of corruption, and prepared it as a meal for the night.
With Angron and Devonshire gone, only Ryan, Sulia, and Olica remained in the courtyard.
"Ryan, whose turn is it tonight? I think it's Olica's, isn't it?" Sulia asked casually over her glass of wine.
"Yes," Ryan replied without hesitation. Recently, scheduling had become somewhat chaotic, with time divided among the Lady of the Lake, Sulia, Olica, and Teresa. The Lady only joined Sulia, and lately she seemed busy with her own plans. Morgiana, meanwhile, was occupied with the autumn harvest, as church tithes had increased the treasury despite reduced taxes.
"Then I'll check on Catherine," Sulia said. Catherine, now staying at Angron's estate with her child, Durranni, spent her days proudly showing off her baby, much to the envy of many a witch. Bearing children was exceptionally difficult for spellcasters due to the high magical content in their bodies. Even those who wished to bear children found it challenging, as was the case with Veronica and Teresa, who had been with Ryan for years without any sign of children.
After briefly spending time with Sulia, Ryan retreated to his study to handle paperwork. The study was simple yet peaceful, and he sat at his wide desk, skimming reports as Olica massaged his shoulders.
In the northern coastal city of Couronne, Karad had gathered an eight-thousand-strong army, stationed along the coastline from Couronne to Le-Angoulême. Most troops awaited orders as a mobile force for various support missions.
Skimming through the intelligence reports, Ryan saw no sign of barbarian activity. Confirmed rumors indicated that the Norscans and Dark Elves were indeed at war, and everything pointed to a standoff.
Ryan set the report aside. Sometimes, centralizing command like this guaranteed swift response, and he considered that his cautious approach had perhaps been overly meticulous. Barbarian forces gathering against the Dark Elves posed no direct threat at the moment.
Just then, the study door opened, and a fresh fragrance drifted in. Aurora, the head of MI7 and an Archmage, stepped in, dressed in a pleated crystal blue and white skirt. Her long, black hair shimmered, held back by a simple diamond clip, and her tall heels clicked as she walked.
"Lady Aurora, what brings you here?" Ryan looked up from his documents.
With Ryan back in the palace, Aurora's influence had grown. However, ever since Olica's return, she found herself experiencing memory lapses again. In particular, she couldn't recall what had happened the previous afternoon in the servants' quarters. Glancing briefly at Olica, Aurora avoided eye contact, clearing her throat. "Ryan, new intelligence has come in from the north."
"What news?" he asked.
"Our agents in Erengrad report that the Norscans are currently laying siege to the Norscan dwarf fortress, Mount Durak," Aurora replied, handing over a report. "The dwarves warn of a
large barbarian gathering in the north, but after a week of siege, they have only suffered minor casualties. The barbarians abandoned any serious attempt to storm the fortress and simply continued the blockade."
"So it's a minor raid, then," Ryan concluded. "We'll monitor the situation in Erengrad, but no special response is needed. If you hear anything else, keep me informed."
"The cost of magical communication from Erengrad is quite high," Aurora remarked.
"I'll allocate additional funds for this," Ryan replied knowingly. "I take it you're also looking for extra research funding?"
"That tome you brought back includes a grand spell for summoning a High Lord of Frost..." Aurora trailed off, folding her arms.
"Fine. I'll give you the funds. Make sure to have two full ice-magic scrolls completed by year-end."
After discussing logistics, Aurora turned to a more personal topic. "Ryan, are you seriously considering making Catherine—that brat—Countess Karad?"
"Why not, if it's possible?" Ryan said with a smile.
Aurora felt her blood boil. How could Catherine, a mere apprentice, potentially become a countess just for bearing a child?
If Catherine could secure a title through childbirth... then she and Teresa had to prepare a plan of their own.
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