[2018-12-09 17:01] Death Lotus: Over the next couple of weeks, things would become different around the 'peaceful' and 'isolationist' County of Greifwald.

The infamous long night that defined the land insidiously crept around, blanketing the petty Kingdoms to the south. Stories of horrible things in the black, moonless hours spread, and disappearances skyrocketed. Mysterious 'accidents' began happening. Important, powerful people went missing, were found dead, or just failed to do their job properly. Estelle's dear neighboring state of Greenborough, noted for its prosperous fields, didn't even have guards at its border when a tide of silent, eerily lockstepped warriors marched into their lands. Sure, it was a violation of a treaty she'd signed with them, but it didn't really matter when she'd marched into their Capital before they even had time to raise an army. Paper didn't matter a lot when you had a sword.

The other two players in the region, if they could be called that, were alarmed and reacted as best they could. Estelle figured they'd do that. She also figured she could beat them in a battle. Stirbeck and Halagas would stand no chance, surely.

It was an odd sight. Regular men equipped with bows marched, protected by waves of undead skeletons and unthinking, dominated chaff. Every graveyard they passed by swelled her ranks further. It wasn't even like the undead themselves were dangerous; any man could defeat a skeleton just by smashing it hard enough, but what about two of them? Five at a time? And what of the endless hail of arrows, raining from above? Every one of their dead comrades on the field was raised to fight again for the enemy. Ultimately, their combined forces were shattered, fleeing in fear and eventually finding themselves corralled like cattle with a river to their backs, unable to retreat any further and anticipating their end.

But the undead stalled, surrounding them and looking at them with their hideous chittering and lifeless faces. The red-haired Countess rode from the back of her ranks, dismounting and approaching the beleaguered Commander of the forces with a bow. The offer was simple: They could lay down their arms and switch loyalty to her, and she'd forgive and forget it all, or they could die here for their masters that had never treated them well anyway.

It took two more days for both of those realms to surrender. All three of them had been larger and, on paper, stronger than little Greifwald. The entire campaign had taken a week, shorter than even Estelle herself had anticipated.

The Countess sipped from some coffee in one of her newly captured Castles, reading a book and speaking to a new advisor without even looking at him. "I suppose we're a bit too large to be called a County now, aren't we?" She chuckled. "A toast to victory." The rest of the cup was downed.

"Perhaps the Duchy of Greifwald would be more appropriate?" He mused.

"Duchess. I like the way that sounds. Please, send out some emissaries to say hello to our new neighbors."

The other realms would hear this news in the upcoming days; they could respond to it how they pleased, but one thing was clear: There was a new power in the west of the fallen Kingdom... One that was perhaps a bit too ambitious for its own good.