[ExaByte]

"I was content to grant you a brief reprieve given the release of Sarina Mellows, however, that patience is now spent. I do hope you've spent the time meaningfully."

Reports abound as Republic forces begin the long march on Aetius and begin to set down their emplacements. Take up positions and arms, though those with a keen eye would see that it's not the kind of siege weaponry you bring to raze a city to the ground- it serves a very different purpose instead. There is much grumbling among the troops about how it's 'long overdue', and that finally, here- justice will be served.

After a small period of silence, the Vicar-General is no longer content to remain dormant.

"It's time to end the dream. Those who would serve as Ilumitar's grasping claws will be removed one by one."

Positioned in front of the gates of Aetius are a group of drones that repeat the same message on a loop. To surrender either Kyran or the Ilumitar himself or have them taken instead.

Target: Aetius
Objective: Capture Kyran or have
Ilumitar surrendered into Republic custody.
Date: TBD

[Galion]

The walls of Aetius are mounted and guarded for each breathless day of siege.

On the eve of war, an Archmage stands upon the gates, her breath descending upon the lands- the scent and color of lavender. It is bitter, clean, and suffocating.

A fog swells, swallowing the lands before the fortress city- coming upon siege and soldiers alike. Each breath is the snare of freedom of heart and soul, with peril.

The drones vanish into this haze, their chatter drowned, and forms erased. From this haze comes a voice,

"Rotten hearts. Gluttons. Self-righteous swine.

Dominion made by ones wallowing in their own filth, choking on their own tyranny that they remain blind to.
Come at-last. Our blades are sharp."

The mist curls upon the camps, binding fighting men & woman in dread. The walls of Aetius stand resolute, and through this is the sensation. Only a fool would think easy the task of claiming from this rising force. To march on is to thrust oneself into the face of true danger. Even if not made clean upon lips, only the absent of mind would not understand the implications of this shroud.

"One and all, let silence shatter your mouths.

Your dream will end in a world that will learn not to suffer you.

Ours will blossom in a harsh awakening without you, starting here."
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Aetius poises ready to fight.
No demand shall go answered with anything short of blood & steel.
Those who battle shall step into the invocation of [Domain] once more. This is a feud promising of potentially dire consequences to the defeated.

[radio]

The eastern jungles of Meranthe had in recent years become filled with boisterous laughter that echoed through the thick foliage, tents and temple erected through the once quiet reaches. Bones litter the floor, the nights filled with hunts and challenge. New faces that look to cement themselves as something more than just a fleeting pack that travels for bounty, walls begin to rise around claimed lands.
 
Within these rising walls, a verdant hum takes to the air.
Portals forge. Months filled with laughter quiet once more.
 
West, these portals open.
A laughter echoes through the night.
 
The Dreadmane Pact has taken up defensive structures within the walls of Aetius, ready to fight against the encroaching Republic.

[Zhonya's Hourglass]