Apocalypse: Starting With Three Unique Blessings

While a somber memorial service unfolded in the central square of Lancaster territory, a very different scene played out within the walls of Nutgrove's own home. Magnus's provided feast was being devoured by Nutgrove and his men. Their boisterous laughter filled the room, a stark contrast to the mournful quiet of the memorial.

"Can you believe that little twerp?" one of the men scoffed, tearing into a piece of meat. "Wasting precious resources and wealth on a pointless memorial service."

"Hah! He thinks he'll win the people's favor with that?" another chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It won't matter soon. He and his precious subjects will all be Gaylord's slaves." A wave of raucous laughter followed his remark.

"That's what happens when you leave so much wealth in the hands of a child," a third man added, taking a large gulp of ale. "They squander it on sentimental nonsense."

"I can hardly wait until all this treasure is ours," another man exclaimed, rubbing his hands together greedily. "We'll show them how to really spend money. More ale, and of course," he winked, "more women." The room erupted in laughter once more.

Nutgrove sat amongst them, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Though he didn't participate in the conversation, his amusement was evident. They reveled in the misfortune befalling their own people, blissfully unaware that this would be their last celebration.

Mid-sentence, one of the men paused, a strange sensation washing over him. His eyelids felt heavy, his mind foggy. He had drunk a fair amount of ale, but not enough to cause this. Something was wrong.

A similar feeling began to creep over the others.

"Wait... something's… something's not right… my eyes… my eyes…" one man stammered, his words trailing off as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

One by one, the others followed suit, collapsing within moments of each other.

As the last man succumbed, a figure emerged from the shadows. Kael's face was a mask of disgust as he surveyed the scene.

"Filthy pigs," he muttered under his breath.

Just then, the door swung open, and several men entered. Their powerful auras indicated they were awakened, they were Magnus's summoned troops. Without a word, they efficiently lifted the unconscious men and carried them out of the room.

-----

Meanwhile, back at the memorial service, Magnus stood beside Augustus, observing the proceedings. Following his heartfelt speech, the people had begun to approach the empty fountain, leaving tokens of remembrance at its base.

The families of the fallen soldiers went first, placing flowers, handwritten notes, and other mementos. The rest of the territory's inhabitants followed, adding their own tributes. Then, forming a large circle around the memorial, they lit candles, beginning a vigil for the deceased.

Magnus watched, the events unfolding precisely as he had envisioned. Notifications occasionally popped up, indicating the lingering positive effects of his speech and the ongoing memorial.

Just then, Kael contacted him through their mental link. It was time.

-----

Magnus left the central square, the memorial still in progress, and headed towards a more secluded part of the territory. The night air cooled his face, the moon illuminating his path. The gentle rhythm of his footsteps on the cobblestones created a peaceful melody, yet his expression was anything but serene. His brow was furrowed, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

He arrived at his destination: a desolate area rarely visited. It was the territory's dungeon, reserved for those who committed serious crimes. But in Magnus's inherited memories, the dungeon had remained largely empty. During his father, Arthur's rule, most offenses were minor – petty theft and the like – punished with labor, public embarrassment, or other small penalties. No one had ever been imprisoned here. It had been left to gather dust, until now.

Magnus, unfazed by the musty odor of decay and age, entered the dungeon. Kael and a few of his newly summoned guards stood at attention by the entrance.

"Greetings, Lord Magnus," they chorused, bowing deeply as he approached. Magnus responded with a curt nod.

"Are they all secured?" Magnus inquired.

"Yes, my lord," Kael stepped forward to answer. "We have apprehended everyone. They are all inside, still unconscious from the sedative we administered."

"Excellent. Take me to Nutgrove's cell," Magnus instructed.

Kael nodded and led the way, a lantern in his hand casting an eerie glow along the damp corridor. The other summoned guards remained at their post, their vigilance unwavering. Though there was little threat of escape from the long-unused dungeon, they carried out their duties with unwavering seriousness.

The deeper they ventured, the more oppressive the stench became, a nauseating blend of dust, mildew, and decay. Years of neglect had allowed pests and rodents to infest the dungeon, their droppings and decaying carcasses contributing to the foul odor.

Finally, they arrived at Nutgrove's cell. Though untouched for years, the dungeon had been built to last. The heavy iron bars, though rusted, held firm. The granite and sandstone walls remained solid, a testament to their sturdy construction.

Kael unlocked the heavy metal door, the lantern light revealing Nutgrove's chained form sprawled on the floor, still unconscious.

"Good," Magnus murmured, satisfied. "Wake him up. I have questions for him."

"At once, my lord," Kael replied, hanging the lantern on a hook before approaching Nutgrove. He then delivered a sharp slap across the man's face.

Nutgrove jolted awake, disoriented and confused. His eyes darted around the cell, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

"Good morning, Commander," Magnus's voice cut through the silence.

Nutgrove blinked, his vision clearing as he focused on the figure before him.

"Lord Magnus?" he asked, bewildered.

"Indeed. It seems Kael's wake-up call didn't scramble your brains. You still recognize me. That's good," Magnus said with a faint smile.

"What's going on? Where am I?" Nutgrove stammered, finally noticing the chains binding him.

"You're in the territory's dungeon, Commander. As for what's going on," Magnus paused, "that remains to be seen. It could be a peaceful interrogation, or something… else."

"What… what… what are you talking about? Are you mad? Release me at once! What do you think you're doing?" Nutgrove blustered, his voice loud and threatening.

Magnus sighed. "Kael, it seems our friend hasn't quite grasped the situation. Perhaps you could help him understand?"

Kael, barely containing his loathing for Nutgrove, needed no further encouragement.

Pa!

The resounding slap echoed through the chamber. This time, it wasn't aimed at Nutgrove's face, but at his bald head. The force of the blow left a bright red handprint. Nutgrove yelped, the pain searing through him.

"I trust that clarified things," Magnus said calmly. "Now, we can begin. Commander Nutgrove, you are here in the territory's dungeon, and your cooperation will determine whether this is an interrogation or something considerably less pleasant."

This time, Nutgrove remained silent. Kael's slap had clearly made its point.

"Good. It seems you're willing to cooperate," Magnus continued, a thin smile playing on his lips. "Now, before we proceed with my questions, let's be clear about the reason for your arrest. I'm sure you have some inkling, but I'll state it plainly. Commander Archibald Nutgrove, you are charged with treason against this territory, and collusion with the enemy. You provided information that led to the deaths of thousands of our soldiers. This is a grave offense, punishable by public execution. So, I strongly advise you to cooperate fully. There's a slim chance for redemption, but only if you answer truthfully."