For years House Czernin gave away their sons to the tyrant and his warriors in Thunder Armour, but no more. The Silesian bloodline was almost at an end and Aloysius, the last son of Czernin, would not be given up. As soldiers in ceramite stormed the mansion to claim the boy who was hidden in his room, a door opened and his mother, Lady Czernin, entered the chamber.
“Forgive me, my child”, his mother whispered, approaching the bed. Aloysius could see she had been crying, her face was covered in maquillage. “It seems that even the gods can’t protect us now”, Lady Czernin grabbed a pillow and plac
Procurat-colonel Vegard Tarq, commander of the Volsk army deployed here, could only smell burnt flesh as his infantry died at the incendiary bombs of Saminum artillery. Whole formations were turned into pillars of rising smoke and ash. Pitiful remnants of what used to be men and women tried to crawl away from the flames, praying to their gods, begging for their mothers to hold them. Tarq ignored them; he would mourn them after the battle was over. All that mattered was the success of this mission. Surrounded by fire and death he led his men towards the objective as quickly as possible.
The Volsk soldiers' objective was a large structure; the