Prepare to get fought.
Four days of an induced dreamstate have brought, from the netherworld, a vision to the Elder Crone, and the Order's 'plans' once again get usurped from their execution.
"I see a madness of doldrums permeating our homelands! I see a fearsome foe bring flames and flags to fly above our fiefs! I see our people snapped out of their torpor, as I have just done, and thrust into a world of purpose and intent. You will not rue this day, Stratians! You will die, and you will be displaced, but you will not suffer this weariness any longer!"
And they all did something wacky and idiosyncratic and someone, somewhere far off, called it art, and caused a disagreement among scholars.