The Moorlands, Beyond the Nearheath, Gavony, Innistrad

[deathsmajesty]

There had been planning. There had been Stitching. There had been whistling and ghoul-calling and once they'd run out of the dead to plunder, the Cecani twins had moved onto to living, depopulating much of the Moorlands and leaving the town of Trostad an empty ruin.

But what was such a thing to Gisa and Geralf? They had their eyes set on a much larger prize:

The High City of Thraben, the center of the Church of Avacyn and their familial seat, from whence they'd been exiled.

Thalia, Elite Cathar	(Letter to Lothar, Guardian of Thraben; 46th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 716) Time grows short, old friend. The riders are superb but they are ineffectual in siege warfare. You cannot deny the reports any longer. The first wave will be upon Thraben soon. You are the guardian of this holy city! We must build our defenses against the threat of skaabs who would dig below our walls. Add more artillery batteries to the walls and more belfries for crossbows. Recall the soldiers from Stensia. They can be at our threshold in three days. Give the signal to raise the militia in Kessig. They could be here in five. The Great Walls of Thraben have never been breached. But the wards are failing, Lothar. I know it breaks your heart, but that doesn't change the reality. If it helps, I will always be at your side. Thalia, Thraben Guard
Geralf, Visionary Stitcher	(Letter from Geralf, Conqueror of Thraben (Soon); 47th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 716) My dear Gisa, The spires of Thraben are visible on the horizon! Soon our forces will crash upon the walls like waves upon a rocky shore. I must commend you on your ghouls' stamina. What they lack in speed, they have made up for in perseverance. They make fine infantry for my war machine. We are entering the last phase of my plan. I must embark on a secret mission, leaving you in charge of our formidable army. I have studied necrotic siegecraft extensively. Follow these rules of engagement: Blockade all routes out of the city. If you have any ghouls with tongues, make them the sentries. Burn the belfries. But keep the crossbowman's arms if possible. They have good muscle tone. Tunnel under the walls. Now who is mocking my four-armed skaabs? Shell the city with whatever rock or flesh you have on hand. I know you must be dying to know about my secret mission. All in good time, dear sister, all in good time. Your loving brother, Geralf
Gisa,Glorious Resurrector	(Letter from Gisa, Even Better Conqueror; 47th of Hunters Moon, Ava. 716) Geralf, Your love of the dramatic is so tiresome. Let me guess: You're going to sneak in before the siege and kill the lunarch. Though it pains me to admit it, I'm actually quite impressed with your forethought. Did you know we're related to Mikaeus the Lunarch? Yes, cousins on the Cecani side. But I digress. And sod your rules of engagement. Here is mine: point them at the walls. Grimgrin can handle the front door. Gisa
Mikaeus Cecani	(Personal journal of Mikaeus, Lunarch of the Church of Avacyn; 47th of Hunters Moon, Ava. 716) I've just heard news that Lothar's body has been found on the rocks at the foot of the waterfall. What a pathetic end to a man of weak faith. I've appointed his second in command as Guardian of the City. If she is equal to the task, I cannot tell. And faith provides no answers. My hand shakes. I feel my every year in my aching bones. I am nothing but an old man in heavy robes standing over the skeleton of a church that no longer pulses with life. Even the angels have hid themselves in the Loft, grieving for all they've lost. I hear a faint tapping at the door. I pray for good news at last.

Mikaeus was too old and tired, careworn and heartsore, to bother with his holy raiment and official vestments to open a damn door. Instead of a stately pace to cover his unsteady footing, he shuffled across the stone floor of his room and opened the heavy wooden door with a grunt of effort.

He didn't recognize the young man in front of him, but that was no surprise. He recognized fewer and fewer of those serving in the Great Cathedral these days. What was more concerning was that the young man was not wearing even a surplice with Avacyn's symbol on it, but they were under siege or soon to be. Ignoring propriety was understandable - was not Mikaeus himself?

"Enh?" he asked. "What is it? What news?"

"Good evening, cousin," Geralf Cecani said with a smile.

[NFI, NFB, OOC welcome. Text taken from Preview Article: Mikaeus, the Unhallowed by Jenna Helland. Content Warning: Second-hand reference to suicide. Previous post here, let's goooooo!]