And so his army erupts onto the fields of Ardeal, under the iron discipline they have trained under while they serve him, and his contingents begin marching, cutting west across the fields towards Ardis (ancient capital of Ustalav before its removal to Caliphvaso) and fanning out as they move to seize castles, towns, fortresses, before any resistance to their activities can form more meaningful than that of petty local lords.

(One might, perhaps, note, looking at a map of Ustalav, that Kavapesta, stronghold of the Razmirans, perhaps ought to be directly within the natural path north out of the mountains of Ulcazar where he made his lair, if he had not done an elaborate dog-leg bend to bypass it.)

(One might note that, and consider just what it meant.)

Chiefly, it means that the state of New Razmiran is in danger. They have crystal balls, they have scouting-demons; they can see just how surrounded they are. It isn't just Wielki Ksiaze coming up from the east; other undead are swarming straight north out of Ulcazar towards and west out of hidden fortresses in Amaans towards the Senir River, and their channeling does not work on undead, which is a weakness they would prefer not to share just at the moment. (It does explain why the undead aren't attacking immediately, though, if they think that they can surround them first.)

Kavapesta has been an excellent fortress, but Ardis, just up the Senir River, would get them the diplomatic advantage of controlling the capital of Ustulav, the ability to link up with the Palatines to engage in mutually beneficial trade, and has no visible disadvantage. Time to load up their riverboats with all their loyalists and head north around the river before the undead cut off their line of retreat.

Just as planned.

There are not a great many underwater undead, and there are as many water elementals that can search the riverbed for skeletons, so Ksiaze does not, actually, have a river ambush planned; the undead cutting off their line of retreat were mindless fools or nameless allies, not his disciplined legions, for he intended to make Ardeal the center of his return to power, not simply a scene of slaughter.

- But there was chaos in Ardis. The night of blood in Ardis was not a long night, with so much of the garrison south in Kavapesta; when it ended the duchess still fanning herself in her chambers, glazed eyes straight ahead as she insists that there's no danger, Razmir promised he'd fix that, a very kind gentleman, while her daughters and their husbands bicker over the question of authority. The countess's knights were dead or gone, the Razmiran vicar, control of the countyside cut, officials in charge of tax administration all dead, the town guard slain at their posts or fled. In a sack, all crimes become legal, property up for whoever can hold it; no one can stop fires if they burn out of control, or shield the innocent from murder and assault without greater strength of their own.

Under these circumstances, it's natural to turn to those people who have actual experience with dangerous situations, and who might have survived the night of blood when the vampires attacked.

That is to say, retired adventurers.

Ailson Kindler is generally accepted as both the richest and the scariest of the retired adventurers who did not die in the Night of Blood, being Avistan's premier gothic novelist. Basically everyone who has read one of her novels - who is, to be clear, everyone literate in Ardis; she writes for the penny papers - has run into her being seduced, tortured, and psychologically scarred by vampires who she nevertheless killed at the end of the book. Vampires who, let us be clear, formerly tormented the people of Ustalav, in her parents' generation, and who have not been seen since she retired.

Also, she can write stories that give you magical fighting abilities. (Ah, Golarion.)

She's kind of the obvious choice to pick to lead the city's defense, really.

... But, unfortunately, while she leads a sizable fraction of the population, it is also the case that she isn't the only leader they're accepting.

Ardis was once the capital of Ustalav, and still has an aristocracy sized for the capital of Ustalav, even as the productive population has greatly diminished. A generation ago, there was a war with Barstoi, when bold young noblemen rode off to free their lands from Count Neska's invasion; their ghosts still haunt the ruined Furrows. That was, though, a generation ago; in the years since the population of swaggering young braves who insist the commoners treat them with respect because their great-great-grandfathers were heroes and claim eagerness to do the same has only increased.

Dalis Marchand is plausibly their leader; he was briefly an adventurer (killed some ghouls, an ogre...) and is generally better with a blade than most of them, stronger and faster.

Ailson has the literate poor, Ailson has the sensible adults, Ailson has the adventuring community, and Dalis Marchand has the idiots with swords who didn't all get killed by vampires.

But, you know. There's a lot more idiots with swords than there are retired adventurers.

Yup.

So the banners of New Razmiran fly up towards a city divided against itself, where a half-trained militia quarrels with bravos and adventurers. 

Erna The Regnant Vision, archpriest of Razmiran, will bother to deliver the demand that they open the gates to the authority of Razmir and accept His divine authority.

Ailson Kindler will be happy to negotiate with her in person! This will probably be a trap but she works very well in a trap.

She thinks that the Razmiran government should ally with everyone else who is not undead, against the undead, who are trying to kill them all. How does that answer work for everyone?

VETO.

You aren't negotiating in person, you're hiding in the city. Shush.

... No, really, let's be clear about this? You haven't made it past second circle spells. You aren't appointed by the Countess. You don't control your city.

How about, we continue doing whatever we were doing, you submit to our authority the way you did last time we were here, and you join us in helping defend the city?

Is that "you" sufficiently plural to include the church of Pharasma?

No, why?

No deal.

Throw the traitor in jail, we have a city to conquer!

(The nature of the conquest will not actually be particularly up to debate. There's a level of skill you get to where you retire, as an adventurer; mostly between the point where you can cast Fireball and the point where you can cast Teleport. The upper level of this power is, in fact, almost, but not quite, on par with the outsiders Razmir provided his army with, the survivors of which teleported to New Razmiran along with all the other Razmiran survivors.)

But it is difficult to keep your troops properly disciplined when you've just taken a large, rich city, isn't it? Especially if you aren't even that Lawful? It's so easy for them to swarm into the streets and the cities, slaughter the peasantry... so hard for them to man the walls.

Ksiaze himself is leading an army straight at Ardis, with the main bulk of his forces. One of Ksiaze's under-liches has Teleported in to manage the submission of Kavapesta. Another is - where is that other?

New Razmiran is discovering there's still an undead army hidden in the sewers of Ardis because, what, everyone else was too distracted to check?

Not still. Again. My good friends moved out, and my servants moved in.

An undead army of highly-trained champions, many of whom have fought your sacristans and kolaryuts before when they were alive!

- Oh, how are the kolaryuts feeling about serving someone who broke a sacred agreement to negotiate under terms of peace, when they are inevitables solely dedicated to the preservation of contracts?

Technically I made no promise to her that I would let her go -

- contract termination subject to adjudication in Axis - you can't do this! No, I will not invoke the penalty clauses in my next life if it is legally proved - get back here!

There is still, actually, a battle. A force of orcish berserkers nothing but rage and bones, roaring their battle cries as they charge a shackleborn line, tearing it apart with their great axes as the masked priest first hurls fireballs and then Dimension Doors out. A sacristan bellowing the howl of deeper darkness as its chain lashes out, only to be brought down by a pair of Hellknights buried in their order-armor who simply do not care how dreadful its howl is, for it is less dread than Hell. Grave knights of Taldor riding winged, stitched-together horrors of dozens of corpses charge hovering air elementals who rip their mounts to pieces (they can be new-made) but are brought down by their cursed spells nonetheless...

... By the time the battle is over, the remnants of New Razmiran have fled upriver.

And the Grand Prince of Taldor rules the "ancient" capital of Ustalav.