Dawn rose on Mendolos. A hundred and fifty kilometres north of the Spire, sitting on the Karell River which flowed in the direction of the Diadochi principalities, it was there that the Kings of Ingria ruled, who were the mightiest among the lords of the Galan League. Though publicly swearing fielty to the Tower and it's Lady, the kings of Ingria, as well as the other noblemen of the League, had for millenia ruled themselves, waging petty wars between each other. Ingria had been founded as a splinter of the greater Coldomoran Empire nearly seven hundred years ago, when its lands were split among the monarch's sons. Since then, the royal lands had waxed and waned, as king succeeded king. 
Ludveck the Bald was the the latest scion of this line, a fat man who hated the mocking name some courtiers called him to his back. Leaning on the parapets of his castle, he could see a magnificent view of his lands, though that did little to ease his displeasure that morning. 

"That damned tremor ruined a fine morning," he grumbled miserably. 

"Not so bad as that," Count Berin interjected. "True, there were deaths and damage, but we should be able to put everything back into order shortly."

"I'm not talking about a few damned peasant huts or their dirt-farming occupants," the King replied glumly, "I'm referring to the inordinate our at which it woke me."

"We are all as distressed as you, sire," an approaching voice said amiably. "We live only for your pleasure, and your happiness and misery are ours as well."

"Pendrys!" the king exclaimed , turning around to see his good friend. "This is a blessed day, that you have returned. I thought the damned barons would keep you forever."

"They were friendly and servile, my lord. None of your subjects would dream risk your wrath."

Pendrys of Lagos was the King's steward, and the finest mind in the kingdom. They had been raised together since boyhood, and though he was of low birth, King Ludveck considered the man his brother. Since assuming the throne, he had showered Pendrys with titles- and his stewad had reciprocated. With his sereen, unthreatening demeanor, he was the perfect diplomat to take care of troublesome nobility or an agressive neighbour. It was in no small part due to him that the King was able to live the life of luxury he did. 

"I assume that you returned early for good reason," Count Berin interrupted coldly. Ludveck gave the man a look of irritation. Berin was a loyal vassal and an excellent captain of war, but his thinly veiled hostility towards Pendrys often spent what little patience Ludveck had.

"Of course," Pendrys replied with his usual smile and air of nonchalance. "I have received word from some of my, ah, informants within the northern lands. They tell me that the Diadochi have abandoned their palaces and treasure hordes, and left for Dis, taking their hosts with them. This strikes me as an opportunity to increase the greatness of His Majesty's holdings."

"They've left their lands defenseless? Are you certain of this?" the King asked excitedly. He had been waiting for an opportunity such as this for years, a chance to seize some glory, and a great deal of wealth, from those magical fiends. 

"Hold on," the Count said. "We need to verify this before doing anything. Much as Your Majesty might trust this... steward, many of your vassals will refuse to commit themselves to rash action at his word alone. And besides, we cannot act in this without consulting the Oracle."

"Your Grace, the Oracle is not the King of Ingria," Pendrys declared. "You are. These lands do not belong to the Spire, they belong to you and you alone. This is the perfect time to strike. We need not even wage a full campaign- send out the venerable Count here to pillage choice lands near the border. Solenia, Verif, Adollivar, these are wealthy towns that nevertheless are quite unprepared for any kind of hostilities. We need only sack them, and wait. 

"If the Diadochi truly have retreated, they will do nothing, and we will be able to continue northwards seizing lands in your name. Otherwise, we can simply claim innocence regarding the deed, and when they strike back we can claim to be cruelly and unjustly attacked, thereby uniting then other Galan lands behind us."

Thus, Count Berin and two hundred horsemen depared from Mendelos marching along the Karell, with the orders to sack all Diadochi lands they found, and to burn what they could not take with them. After making the arrangements and dealing with the King's anxieties, Pendrys retreated to his chambers. Locking the door, he pushed aside a bookcase, revealing a tunnel into the walls. Within lied his shrine to his Mother, the Dark One. 

"Mother," he gasped, falling to his knees before an icon in her likeness. "Mother, they do as I say, and I do as you say, so they do as you say. Mother, nobody will stop you, I won't let them. Oh, dear mother, I will ruin that wretched tower, and those foul Diadochi cities, and best of all, I'll have them tear each other apart. Isn't that magnificent, mother? 

"Have faith in me, Mother. I'll have them kill each other, and then you can fill this land with beautiful darkness."