"The first time then-Crown Prince Aethelbald went to war was during what was later called the aftermath of Theodinaz's Folly. The opportunistic invasion of multiple realms into the Holy Kingdom of Theodinaz following the devastation of its military forces outside the newly founded city of Paradise.

Back then knowledge about the Unliving was not as common as they are today, and Alcidea was in the middle of a period the later historians called the Times of Turmoil, a century where armed conflicts, civil wars, rebellions, and the likes broke out aplenty. Racial tensions had run high at the time, and with their strongest neighbor falling apart, it might have seemed logical for the Holy Kingdom of the time to eradicate a new undesired neighbor while they were still weak." - Floren Jonqvist, Historian from Levain, circa 586 FP.

Surprisingly, the Crown Prince had not demanded the soldiers to kneel or otherwise pay obeisance in his presence. He merely accepted their military salute, and returned one of his own, as his chariot trundled past the crowd.

Before long, the main force had marched over, and started setting up tents in and around the ruins of the fort. Reinhardt spotted the Graf and Frigg, the dwarven matron who had healed them, gestured for him to follow, and he did so. The group also picked up Barnaby along the way.

Quite expectedly, Reinhardt saw people who appeared to be commanders and generals gathered inside the same mess hall where they held their briefings before. The Crown Prince was amongst them, now with his helmet removed and placed on the table, his wild mane of hair freed.

"Didn't think you have it in you to show your face after this sorta debacle, you old goatfucker," said an old dwarf - one older than Graf Harscape by maybe a century - as he spat to the floor. The dwarf had his beard kept neat and straight, bunched up using three golden rings.

"As if you could've done any better, you darned milk-guzzler," replied the Graf with equal gusto in his voice. Despite the insults they traded, the two dwarves were old friends and rivals. Mortal insults were just how they greeted each other.

On the other hand, the look of disdain the old dwarf directed towards Reinhardt and Barnaby was as real as it got. Lloyd McBaine, Graf von Meerengant, had hated mercenaries ever since his youngest, favorite son ran away from home to be one, and promptly got himself killed over a century ago.

"Good that you could join us, Graf Harscape, and gentlemen," said the Crown Prince before either Grafs could get another word in. Besides the Crown Prince and Graf McBaine, another six dwarves were in the room. Two wore attires that made it easy to peg them as leaders of the cavalry detachments. Another wore the trademark armor of Knallzog heavy infantry, while the last three dressed in lighter armor. "Now, gentlemen. Before we begin the meeting proper, please inform me in your own words, what went wrong with the first expedition."

"No point beating around the bush. We went in overconfident after finding no resistance worth mentioning all the way to Fort Ascher. That was all a bloody trap," admitted Graf Harscape openly. "They had conscripted the healthy men and women from every village in the general vicinity as far as we could tell. Then all those conscripted militia used their superior knowledge of the local region to catch us in a series of ambushes."

"We lost roughly half our men from that. The rest of our losses came when the lunatics stormed the fort with utter disregard of their own lives," added the old dwarf with a pained wince. "If we want to make use of this region for ourselves, we'll have to bring our own villagers. Pretty sure the battle had pretty much depopulated this whole region off of healthy adults."

"How many people are we talking about? I find it hard to believe that a trained troop of fifteen thousand could be reduced to so few just by a ragtag group of militiamen," asked the Crown Prince with evident doubt on his face.

"We could not get exact numbers, yer royal highness, but estimates were that they lost close to five thousand, maybe more, when they ambushed us," reported Barnaby when the Graf looked at him and Reinhardt and nodded.

"During the time our detachments were ambushed, the fort was also struck by a separate enemy troop, around fifteen thousand by our best estimates at the time," Reinhardt added. He had not been present during that fight, but Elfriede had given him the reports, and he himself saw the thousands of corpses outside the fort back then.

"Their final assault had them number twenty five thousand or so, for a total of forty to fifty thousand if you add them all together," said Graf Harscape with a serious tone of voice. "As far as we could tell, most of those perished in the fighting. The pyre we lit to burn their corpses had burned for three whole days and nights."

"And what about Generalhauptmann Rüdersdorf? Why is he not here to report? He did serve as the main military advisor for this mess, did he not?" asked the Crown Prince with a slightly displeased tone.

"About that… the Generalhauptmann perished during the last days of the fighting. He asked for his will to be passed on to the commander of the main force should that happen," said Graf Harscape with a pained voice. Hansel Rüdersdorf had been a friend of his and had commanded the first regulars, on top of being the military advisor for the expedition. He drew out a neat envelope from his storage and handed it over to the Crown Prince, who accepted it with a nod.

"Very well, gentlemen. Despite this debacle, I could see that the task that lies ahead of us would be more difficult than we expected. Your services would still be required for the near future," said the Crown Prince, directed towards Reinhardt and Barnaby mostly. "I assume you both are willing to continue serving as per your contracts, since we had not seen you packing up and leaving like the Vanguard Legion."

"Aye, sire. The Brewers are at yer service," said Barnaby as he saluted the Crown Prince.

"The same goes for the Free Lances," replied Reinhardt as he too offered a respectful salute.