Prince Wales chews his nail anxiously as he thumbs through the many reports he'd received, both from Tristain's spy network and his own people's observations. Clearly, Albion was fucked... They hadn't even come close to recovering from the previous civil war, yet they had a world war right on their doorstep.
And since Tristain, their closest ally, had neither the ability to transport troops, nor the troops to spare due to the tension between Henrietta and the nobility, there was no help that could be counted on.
Wales had hoped that Romalia could sort this all out, but their emissaries proved more ineffectual than a nun in a brothel. Albion couldn't even claim its previous air superiority due to most of the dragons being crippled or killed during the Reclamation of Londinium. Indeed, he had Ralf Kaliker to thank for that particular issue.
Most men of draftable age had already been depleted due to the previous war, so even if they wanted to there was no one to induct into the army. In the end, Wales had been forced to do something that, to him, was morally repugnant.
It turns out that the person who had controlled the minds of the peasants in Londinium during his capture had been the now diseased Baron Jargkon. Since the man had no applicable family remaining, Wales had sent his people to sift through his properties, eventually finding alchemical notes on a substance that would supposedly allow one to force suggestions onto non-magical people.
An extensive search later and they'd found mechanisms in the aqueducts that'd slowly drip the potion into the water supply. At first, Wales had been absolutely livid by this discovery, which was only worsened when he realised that he'd made an enemy out of the False-Familiar for a criminal like Baron Jargkon. But eventually, a few of his men had discussed making use of the potion to enhance their dwindled forces.
It'd taken hours of discussion, but soon enough, Wales was convinced by them. Agreeing that if they didn't make use of every advantage they possessed, Albion would be a thing of the past. As such, he'd commanded his men to begin using the potion to take control of monsters in their territory. Which it turns out, weren't lacking at all in number.
Since the civil war had caused so much death and destruction, monsters of all kinds had begun making themselves more prevalent. Ogres, Orcs, Goblins, Minotaurs, Trolls, and many more were applicable targets, and with a bit of fiddling of the potion formulae to make sure the hardier monsters were affected by it, he now had a rather large army comprised of only monsters.
There were problems, of course, the amount of food such an army required was nothing to scoff at, especially during the winter, they were also rather stupid and instinctual, many times killing their own allies when told to fight. This is the main reason he hadn't allowed any humans to be integrated into it.
Still, even with this monster army, Wales still didn't feel certain in their ability to defend Albion. The main issue was their lack of air-based troops. The enemy could only venture to the continent on airships, meaning they would be prepared to bombard any army below them. This would easily eliminate his army of monsters, so without any way to combat it, they'd be right back at square one.
To fix this, he'd had any available forces begin constructing siege engines such as ballistae, cannons and trebuchets, which should be enough when used by Air Mages to combat the enemy airships.
The only problem now was the fact that they'd be fighting a war on two fronts, the East where Germania would invade, and the West where Gallia would arrive from.
Wales shakes his head, knowing that winning this war, or even coming out alive was a long shot. After Romalia's failure in negotiating peace, he'd sent a request for them to provide military aid. He looks down at the Ring of Wind that had been handed down from his ancestors for generations. Brimir gave each of his sons a ring, and each one signified their rule of their respective kingdoms. To ruin the balance could be construed as a slight against Brimir himself... He didn't think such a method would work, but he'd try any and all avenues to keep Albion alive... He refused to be the King who led his country to destruction, even if he hadn't had his coronation yet.
If all else fails, perhaps he could try to use some underhanded means... After all, they were already using monsters, using assassins wouldn't be any worse. Perhaps this could even be a way to draw the False-Familiar back? Perhaps imprisoning every noble who had been involved with the catastrophe that was Cromwell's court would help? But even then, he doubted it. His rejection of his cousin, Tiffania, had definitely soured whatever relationship they might've been able to have.
He leans over and buries his face in his hands, "Father, what would you do in my place? I don't know what to do." he mutters, feeling the weight of not just his entire kingdom, but the legacy of all of his ancestors on his shoulders.
*Creeeak*
"Sire, I have word from General Julien." the messenger says, and Wales gestures for him to continue.
"*Ahem*, The army is desperately running low on supplies, some have even started resorting to butchering their horses to feed themselves. They also do not have enough warm clothes to endure the winter. General Julien thinks that a quarter of the army will have deserted by the time winter has ended, and another quarter would be crippled by frostbite and illness."
...
Wales lets out a sigh, "Pull the troops from the front lines, have the army rest in the capital for now. The enemy won't attack until winter has ended. So we have some leeway in which to deal with this. Ah, also, have Julien send out scouts to search for any wild dragons, if we can get them trained as mounts before the war begins then that'll add yet another layer to our defence."
The messenger nods, "At your leave, my lord."
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*ScrrrrrrKK!*
The glass of the window quietly comes off after being cut from its placement, a shadow entering the Palace soon after its removal, unseen by anyone on the palace walls, or guarding the areas below.
Sheffield sneers at how easy it was to gain access to the place, not to mention the ease of actually infiltrating Tristania. Despite how 'on-guard' the soldiers looked, they were far more tired and inattentive than one would expect. Sheffield didn't know why this was, only that it helped her conduct her duties, which she would silently thank.
There was also the wards and magical enchantments of the royal palace to keep in mind, but with Sheffield's Mjöðvitnir runes, dealing with them was almost as easy as erasing words from paper. The runes allowed her to control any magical artifact with ease, sometimes even using said artifacts in ways that weren't intended during their creation.
For instance, the scribing chisel she'd just used. Its original purpose was to carve what was essentially the scaffolding of and enchantment before committing to it. But instead, she'd used it to disrupt the runes and enchantments comprising part of the palace's defences before slipping inside.
Now, she could have just used the Ring of Andvari to mind control her target to see if that would work, but it is likely that the palace contained many defences that would even catch a mind manipulated subject. The sons of Brimir weren't fools after all.
Now that she was inside, she uses her Shadow-Light Bracelet to cover herself in shadows and begins slowly making her way through the place. She'd used the Ring of Andvari on a palace guard a couple days ago and used his knowledge to write out a limited map, but since the man only guarded the lower levels, it was less than helpful in this instance.
Still, it wasn't as if she was in a rush. If undiscovered, she could spend as much time as she liked inside this place, stealing food from the kitchens and using a dusty storeroom to sleep. That didn't mean she would though, eventually someone might discover the window that was now missing its enchantments.
She spends around two hours just wandering around the palace, making note of guard patrols and who was actually inside the building at the moment. The Queen and Princess were present, as you'd expect from permanent residents of the place, but there was also General Gramont, his son, Teiter Gramont, and most of the councillors, barring Cardinal Mazarin, who was apparently conducting an audit on an orphanage that'd been receiving complaints. Admirable, and perhaps lucky, given what was about to occur in this place.
Gallia's spies had already outlined Tristain's political climate to Sheffield, so it wasn't hard to figure out what would be the most chaotic action. She could just try to assassinate everyone and be done with it, but that'd hardly work towards King Joseph's ambitions. They needed Tristain to still be standing so that it could restrict Germania's movements as Gallia tried to take Albion.
Anyway, Sheffield follows a certain maid as she goes to give service to one Teitar Gramont. Once she locates the man's room. She leaves again and uses the Ring of Andvari to mind control the guardsman who was standing outside of Princess Henrietta's room.
"Kill Teiter Gramont, but leave the maid in his room alive. Cut your throat afterwards... Oh, and keep this in your pocket." she says, handing the man a note saying "The marriage must not occur, do what you must.", rather blatant in Sheffield's honest opinion, but it'd get the work done.
With that, she slides back into the shadows and begins to watch the events unfold, waiting to see if she needed to push anything along to apply the maximum effect.
Fortunately for her, and unfortunately for Tristain, her plan worked out flawlessly. The mind-controlled guard barged into Teiter Gramonts room as he was being 'attended' by the maid.
"W-what's the meaning of this!?" he exclaims, attempting to reach for his wand that he'd idiotically left on the desk at the far side of the room.
The guard just growls at him, "Unfaithful swine! You do not deserve the princess' hand!" he shouts as he charges forth and stabs down with his sword, spearing Teiter Gramont in the stomach before the man can do anything to stop him.
"AAAARGHHH!!! GUUARDS! GUUAARRDS!!!" the Gramont screams in pain and terror as he looks down at the blade piercing him.
"No one will save you from me! DIE!" the guard announces, pulling his blade free of Teiter's body as he slashes down, chopping his sword into the man's skull, killing him. But the guard doesn't stop there, continuing to cut at the corpse like a deranged animal.
The defilement of the corpse continues until other guards barrel into the room, all looking shocked at their butchered charge. "S-Sir Jake!... W-why!?" one shouts, having known the man a long time and not understanding his motive.
The now named Jake just laughs, spitting on the corpse before bringing his sword to his neck. The others try to stop him, but are unable to do anything as Jake draws the swords across his throat, causing him to quickly bleed out. "F-for the- the Princess." he mutters as the light leaves his eyes, Sheffield trying to stifle her laugh from the shadows.
It was funny that the man believed he was doing this for the princess, when his actions might just lead to her death. She'd only controlled him to do the deed, the fact that he was rationalizing it meant that he'd only needed a strong push to commit such an act.
She slinks away and makes her way to the defenceless window before slipping away. She wouldn't leave Tristain yet, as she'd like to see the results of her efforts, along with making sure everything would go as she thought. "My work is done, my lord." she mutters, hoping that King Joseph would appreciate it this time.
Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!
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