House Guldrun

“I have decided, House Aldori bequeaths this city and its outlying regions to House Guldrun, let us see what they can accomplish with the space and resources provided”

Outrage erupts in the throne room amongst houses Velora and Throka as was expected by Wendara, though it didn’t make it any less irksome.

“You indulge the dwarf to all of our detriment! Her pieced together abominations are barely more effective in combat then the average skeleton or zombie, which could be created in greater numbers in a quarter of the time! Her golems of flesh are waste of land, resources and time, just like their creator!” Roars Skorva, the light in her ritual scaring pulsing a bright red, casting a murderous light across the room.

“I fear this decision will be our first steps towards ruin… for what is the value of a servant without the vision to utilize them..?” Proclaims Elida, her voice forlorn and a shadow passing over her translucent face as she set adrift, orbiting her phylactery like a singular, lonely moon.

“I have made my decision and it is final, should either of you wish to expand your territory, you may conquer some land of your own” Wendara reply’s, her words cold and exacting, silencing the others.

Sitting triumphant atop her litter, Wendara can practically hear the excitement in Maruna’s voice, her entire platform shuddering as her carriers seem to share in their mistresses joy. “Your wise choice has advanced the flexibility of our legions and menials a great deal, this day! Soon the Deadlands will be host to the best fighting **** and workforce in the material plane!”

Wendara rises from her seat at the throne of the now defunct warden of this once resplendent city, sparing one last glance at out the grand windows of the throne room, looking upon her work, a new necropolis held tightly in the grip of ****.

“I leave for Drell, should any of you have need of me, you shall find me there” announces Wendara, making her way to the large doors of the throne room, passing her siblings as she marches in precise step with proud posture.

It had been a long campaign, marshaling forces and marching on the city, though expedited by the nature of her power, still takes a great deal of time.

Even though most desires have long since abandoned the lich queen, she still feels the longing for home as strongly as any mortal she wishes to once more look upon her realm and feel the familiar spirits of her subjects within her grasp.

An undead deprived of their masters influence for overly long begins to grow restless and defiant, some even developing rudimentary personalities, in particular, personalities that may run contrary to the wishes of their master, something Wendara cannot abide.

Walking down the steps of the keep, Wendara reaches out, spiritual tendrils winding through the streets of the city tugging at the souls of the dead, pulling the lich queens retinue from their wandering the unfamiliar streets of Satastaren, directing them back to the gates of the city.

Though faint Wendara can feel a handful of different responses due to the connection she’s established with these undead, some wish to stay, some wish to return home but it matters not, they are her subjects so they can do naught but obey, grouping up and flowing through the streets like water flowing through the many channels of a river ultimately ending in a single location, the city gates that lay open even now.

Waiting not far from the mighty gates of the city is the lich queens skeletal steed, a proud creature that stands so still one might think it merely a statue until it comes into contact with its creator.

Wendara mounts the creature, hooves clacking against the old cobbles as the march home begins, leaving the once proud city of Satastaren to its fate at the hands of her sister.

The land around Satastaren looks so different to how it had the night previous, the veil of night having lifted, casting light upon the frost covered hills of the region.

Snow collects on the beams of half constructed siege engines, the wood rotted and weathered, time and the elements having taken their due and then some. Light sparkles and bounces off of weapons and armor of every make and age, a testament to the thousands of would be conquerers that have met their end beyond the cities great walls.

The cities new warden would be appalled to see instruments of war in such condition, armor rusted and siege engines rotted, though yet again, attempting to understand the thought processes of such a creature is folly.

But now, this place and its ghosts were of no concern to Wendara, she had her own demesne to tend to, her own realm scrutinize, her statement had been made, all she had to do was wait for the world to hear it, and then? Then she would be one step closer to her goal.