Knights of Tezoth

Likes it, but in the end will lose even Silverdane. Well done.

Because of the mischief of Revan Carnea, Axel was unable to attend to important matters in the city, so he stayed home with Morgana.

The main hall of the Von Himmel estate was filled with warmth and the dim light of numerous candles and a large fireplace. The surroundings created a sense of seclusion and security. Though in these times, it was merely an illusion. The flickering fire cast whimsical shadows on the walls and the couple's faces, filling the room with an amber glow. Silence reigned here, broken only by the crackling of firewood and the breathing of Axel and Morgana, and beyond the room, the rest of the world seemed to cease to exist. At once cozy, melancholic, and mysterious, the atmosphere invited rest, candor, and quiet intimacy. But the peace they had enjoyed for the past seventeen years had shattered into pieces. Perhaps this was the last time they would spend an evening together. The future promised nothing good. Even if Axel did not perish in the first skirmishes with the enemy, the war could drag on for years. And that would completely destroy the life they and Morgana had grown accustomed to and loved. But what could be done? Fate is merciless and cruel. At least they had lived their lives as they wished. That was what mattered most to them.

SICK BASTARD!!!11

Updated the turn post; the faction seems all correct — the only thing is templates are created for only two towns. The other two I posted, but haven't formally activated them with a town action yet.
(though if from Khatarait's farewell prank it's not the mirror that explodes but Forun himself, then no need to fix it...)

Yeah, that's true.

The mirror will explode, but its shards will embed into Anella Blood's flesh, becoming part of her, saving her from death and, together with Renavan's help and the souls of all the fallen residents of Osha, transform her into something greater. Along the way, Revan will also change his portrait to one he likes better.

— ..Just a simple guy, then. — Having familiarized herself with the contents of the envelope, Alsira brought the edge of the paper to the flame, a hint of envy in her voice. — I know not by what path you gained mastery over your fate, but even the gods could not dream of such a good ending.

Evening was falling, and a day as long as a month was finally drawing to a close. The tall windows of the Vecchi estate cast reflections of distant lights: beyond the forest, supply convoys were moving and troops were marching in uneven step. Accustomed to the comfort of boundless fruit orchards and flower groves bordered by rainbow garlands, the inhabitants of Olivus, hastily driven from their cozy homes, were now rushing to die in the name of others' ambitions. Those who, gritting their teeth, managed to survive the coming meat grinder were already awaited by the spacious Sithian man-farms. In the encroaching twilight, a lone pegasus soared somewhere above the lush canopies; a moment later, an unknown net bound the unfortunate creature and forcibly dragged it back to the ground — back into service catching enemy arrows.
It seemed that in all of Olivus, not a single living soul remained south of the northern border.

The lock of the monster mistress lay before her on the table. Her assumptions had proven correct, but what good was that: in life one must guess a thousand times, yet is permitted to err but once. There was no guarantee that all of this was not a cruel prank by the one-eyed one. At times, her dreams had already suggested similar scenarios.
The threat of the mirror woman was quite real, and the motives of the solar man remained shrouded in mystery. Perhaps the Margel catastrophe and the acquisition of the celestial daughter had infected him with the same poisonous seed of ambition, with no Reevlandian artifact involved. Why does the sun smile upon every fanatic, yet blind those who truly yearn to find peace of soul?..
Interlacing her fingers and raising them to her lips, she once again turned to the sole goddess of her dynasty, but she, as always, was deaf to a daughter bereft of faith. She wondered whether the goddess even cared about her own daughter?.. Ashamed of such heretical thoughts, she shook her head in displeasure and asked forgiveness three times.

Do nothing, and a terrible slaughter awaits the north. Act more gently, and there is no guarantee that one conqueror will not be replaced by another. Do something, and perish ingloriously in a vile trap, like the hundreds of nameless d'Arcrede ancestors before. She wanted to believe that it was her noble Margel blood arguing with her serene Forun blood, but that would be empty hypocrisy. As always, what reigned over them was the void of existence as an outcast, rejected by this world from birth. Nothing would change that now.

Alsira summoned Luciferiya. The Sithian noblewoman needed to know exactly as much as was required, and any additional commentary was superfluous.