Several days later, Count Noctilus, the dreaded Vampire Pirate King, returned to the swirling vortex of the Shipgraveyard aboard his flagship, The Bloody Reaver, after a successful raid on the Bilbali Principality in Estalia.
Few knew that Noctilus' real name was Nikolaus von Carstein, a member of the infamous von Carstein vampire family. After the failures of three successive vampire counts in the Empire, Nikolaus concluded that no vampire could ever conquer humanity due to Nagash's curse. Each time, their efforts were thwarted by brave heroes of the Empire, infighting within their own ranks, or betrayal born from their scheming nature.
After studying the history of his bloodline, Nikolaus realized that the von Carsteins' quest to conquer the world on land was doomed to fail.
Tiring of these endless rivalries, Nikolaus sought a different path to power. Through his studies of necromancy and the arcane, he discovered ancient sea charts detailing the ebb and flow of magical currents across the oceans. This revelation led Nikolaus to believe that mastering the seas, where the Winds of Magic flowed freely, would give him the power he sought.
At the heart of the Great Ocean, there lay a place of unspeakable dread—the Shipgraveyard Maelstrom. Here, the concentrated Winds of Magic drew the souls of the dead into its abyss, turning the ocean into a graveyard of wrecked ships and undead horrors. Nikolaus spent years preparing a massive necromantic spell, summoning thousands of undead to create a spell formation, lifting his entire undead fortress and teleporting it into the heart of the Maelstrom.
With this feat, Nikolaus von Carstein vanished from the world, reemerging as Count Noctilus, the self-proclaimed King of the Undead Oceanic Empire. Out of respect for his bloodline, he retained only the title of "Count."
Utilizing powerful sorcery, shipwrecks were drawn into the swirling vortex, forming a barrier around Noctilus' undead fortress, which now stood atop a cliffside structure resembling an ancient Sylvanian castle. The cliff was fused with countless rotting shipwrecks, creating the grotesque behemoth now known as The Bloody Reaver, a super-ship three kilometers in length. It carried dozens of undead pirate legions, giant zombie sea monsters, leviathans, and foul sea beasts.
Noctilus' most elite forces included the Deck Guardians—the Deep Sea Guard—and the Gallows Giants, towering undead constructs that protected his ship. Noctilus had sworn to drown the world in a tide of death.
However, his ambition had been crushed twenty years ago by the legendary pirate king, Captain Jerico Roth, who sacrificed his life and flagship, The Hammer of Salvation, to ram into The Bloody Reaver, sinking both ships and ending Noctilus' plans.
Though Roth's sacrifice was honorable, Noctilus had prepared for such an outcome. Using his necromantic prowess, he resurrected himself and, within a decade, rebuilt his power.
Now, after a devastatingly successful raid on Bilbali, where tens of thousands had perished, Noctilus returned to the Shipgraveyard, only to find his lair had been raided. The intruders had stolen at least eighty chests of treasure and, most outrageously, a sacred High Elf artifact!
The surviving undead pirate lords gave their report: the invaders bore the Phoenix crest! Their elite soldiers were called the Phoenix Guard! And their sole purpose was to steal the High Elf relic!
"High Elves!!!!" Noctilus' roar of fury echoed across the Shipgraveyard as he declared his vengeance. "Very well! Very well indeed! I shall bring blood and fire to all of Ulthuan!"
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Meanwhile, in Mousillon, Bretonnia...
After hundreds of years, the city of Mousillon had finally begun to regain a semblance of its former glory. Though the streets were still sparsely populated, the reconstruction of the city had attracted thousands of new residents. The long-abandoned Holy Grail Chapel had reopened, and the imposing Merowyn Castle, now the seat of the Mousillon banner lord, Baron Armand, stood proudly at the city's center.
The occasion was joyous: King Ryan and Queen Sulia had come to Mousillon to attend a grand celebration—a wedding in honor of Bertrand, the long-serving commander of the Old Guard. All the nobility of Mousillon had gathered at Merowyn Castle to welcome their sovereigns and witness the marriage.
The streets were lined with citizens, cheering and waving as the royal couple arrived. The Old Guard, dressed in their deep blue coats and white shirts, maintained order along the streets. As the crowd erupted in applause, Deputy Marshal Davout stepped forward, opening the carriage door and signaling that the king could alight.
Dressed in his formal regalia, Ryan slowly stepped out of the carriage, waving to the people on either side of the street. Mousillon's population now consisted of a mixture of original residents, Imperial settlers, and Bretonnian immigrants. After years of effort, the people of Mousillon had finally begun to see themselves as part of the duchy.
Mousillon's cobbled streets had been meticulously rebuilt, and as Ryan waved at his subjects, their cheers and applause filled the air. Satisfied, Ryan turned to Davout. "Has Bertrand prepared everything?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty," Davout replied, smiling. "This is Bertrand's moment of glory. After serving you for so many years, it's well deserved."
"Yes, Bertrand has certainly earned it," Ryan said, smiling warmly. "We're here first and foremost to attend his wedding."
From the royal carriage, a delicate, lace-gloved hand emerged, placing itself in Ryan's. Queen Sulia stepped gracefully out, wearing a chic, spring wool coat in jasmine oatmeal gray, over a high-collared satin dress. Her long, elegant legs, encased in sheer black stockings, shimmered under the sunlight. Sulia smiled warmly at Ryan and Davout. "We must offer our congratulations to Bertrand. He's over forty now, and it's about time he finally got married."
Indeed, Ryan and Sulia had come to Mousillon primarily to attend Bertrand's wedding. The Old Guard commander was marrying Charlotte de Cusmar-Dulin, a beautiful and intelligent young woman with chestnut hair and brilliant diamond-like eyes. She came from one of Mousillon's noble families, the Cusmar-Dulin family, which had suffered greatly after the death of Count Dulin and his entire Cusmar Guard in the Eight Peaks Mountain Expedition.
With the family's military and male heirs nearly wiped out, Charlotte's brother, now the head of the family, decided to align more closely with Ryan by marrying his sister to Bertrand.
As Ryan and Sulia entered Merowyn Castle, they couldn't help but reflect on the shifting social landscape. Many officers in the Old Guard were being courted by noble families whose fortunes had dwindled. These once-proud houses saw marriage to a knightly officer as a way to maintain their status. Ryan recalled how even Raymond, the commander of the Old Guard's pike regiment, was being pursued by the daughter of the Chevalier family, who had lost their title for failing to provide enough knights.
The wedding was held within Merowyn Castle, which had been rebuilt after years of abandonment. While the lingering corruption of the undead had been purged, the castle's new owner, Armand, had turned it into a military fortress. This gave the wedding a somewhat stern atmosphere.
The ceremony was officiated by the High Priest of Taal, with blessings from the Archpriest of Western Bretonnia, Alfred. Bertrand, ever loyal, stood at attention as he and Charlotte were wed under the watchful eyes of the king, queen, and Bretonnian nobility.
In attendance were also the Grand Masters of three knightly orders recently returned from their Araby Crusade: Sir John Tyrfeld of the Holy Oreg Knights, Sir Morgan Brightflame of the Brightflame Knights, and Duke Adalhard's cousin, Sir Fulbert Dragondram, leader of the Leoness Expeditionary Knights.
These grand masters brought with them news of their campaigns and pledged their loyalty to the new king. They commanded over 3,000 knights and more than 20,000 soldiers, having occupied the northern coastal ports of Araby, splitting the once-mighty empire into fragmented city-states.
During the reception, Ryan mingled with the guests, his mood serious as he listened to reports from the grand masters.
"You mean Bilbali was attacked by undead pirates?" Ryan frowned, holding a goblet of wine. "And the raider was Count Noctilus?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Sir John replied, his face twisted in disgust. "Over 20,000 people perished in the attack. These undead never seem to learn. Do you intend to launch a punitive strike?"
"Not at the moment," Ryan shook his head. "We just finished the Eight Peaks Mountain campaign. Our forces need time to recover. For now, holding our positions is the best response."
As the grand masters excused themselves, the Marquis of Biocari, Juan, approached. Now nearly thirty and a father of one, Juan was greeted warmly by Sulia. "Congratulations, Juan," she said, offering a gift. "We heard you just had your first child."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Juan replied, blushing slightly. "It's an honor. I have to admit, being a father is a bit overwhelming."
"You'll get the hang of it," Sulia encouraged him, her radiant maternal glow putting him at ease.
After exchanging pleasantries, Sulia turned to Ryan and whispered, "Darling..."
"What is it, Sulia?" Ryan
asked, noticing her flushed cheeks.
"Do you remember our wedding day?" Sulia's face grew redder, especially after several toasts. "I feel... a bit..."
"A bit what?" Ryan teased, pretending not to understand. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink, my love."
"You always do this!" Sulia huffed, playfully smacking his hand. "You enjoy watching me get flustered."
"I'd never," Ryan chuckled, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Let's finish the ceremony first, then we can talk."
"Okay," Sulia murmured, resting her head on his shoulder, her legs shifting uncomfortably in her dress. She didn't know why, but all she wanted was to stay close to him.
Meanwhile, Olica, watching from the shadows, smiled sweetly at Sulia's behavior. It seemed her new concoction was working well. She thought about testing it on Veronica and Theresa later, perhaps with a bit more potency.
Half an hour later, the ceremony began in earnest. Under the blessings of the priest of Taal and Patriarch Alfred, Bertrand was finally married.
With the vows exchanged, Ryan privately teased Alfred, asking when he and Ingrid would marry. To Ryan's surprise, Alfred admitted that Archbishop Vekma had offered to officiate his wedding, leaving Ryan marveling at Alfred's connections.
The next few days passed peacefully as Ryan and Sulia inspected Mousillon's industrial district. The Mousillon gunpowder factory had passed inspection and was now in trial operation.
However, peace was soon shattered by grim news from the Empire.
"Breaking News! The Garland Council has been destroyed! The Skyhold has collapsed from the mountains!"
"Over a thousand witches have perished in the peaks!"
"Tzeentch's chosen champion, Zaanek, claims responsibility for the devastation!"
"Only two hundred survivors, led by High Witch Veronica and Aurora, have been confirmed!"
"The survivors are en route to Bretonnia!"
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