“House Throka”

“I have decided, House Aldori bequeaths this city and its outlying regions to House Throka, we will take full advantage of the dead that lay here”

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

“You’d give this city to the savage?! She doesn’t know anything about creating anything! This city will be worthless by years end! And that ‘army’ she raises is just going to end up as more grist for the mill, not anything of substance!” says Maruna her jagged fingernails digging into the frame of her litter, making hideous gouges in the wood.

“I fear you’ve made a grave error this day Wendara, but it was your error to make, I only hope that the calamity it brings will not be the end of our empire…” says Elida, her voice morose and a shadow passes over her translucent face as she slowly drifts in a circle around the minion bearing her phylactery.

“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.

“This land has seen nothing but blood and steel for generations, you’ll not find a more fertile field to grow our number, their bones may be old but they’ve got some fight in them yet…” says Skorva turning to look out the large windows of the throne room, looking not into the city but into what lay beyond it.

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 will make good use of these old soldiers, some of them might have returned to The Wheel but more then a few no doubt have grievances about their untimely, violent end, those are the souls that will be cleaved to flesh and bone, those are the souls that will form this great host.

But now, this place and its ghosts were of no concern to Wendara, she had her own demesne to tend to, her own realm to 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.