"Something like that, but with more machinery involved."

She is, in fact, going to set up some scouting overflights of the AO, in the vein of nigh-exoatmospheric spy planes.  With magic detectors, and also high-resolution cameras.

"Oh - but presumably, not spiders? The Autumn realm does something like that, sometimes, but generally it's with mechanical spiders."

(The parts of the AO which correspond to the areas held by Druj are somewhat resistant to high-altitude spy planes, on account of being shrouded in exceptionally demoralising fog which is itself somewhat magical.)

"Not normally spiders, no.  Sometimes that body plan is useful, though."

It's a good thing machines don't have Morale mechanics!

"...magical fog, very rude..."

Except that the magical fog has to be sourced from somewhere, so maybe if she does this and that and pulls out these...hopefully, she can trace it to the source(s).

(A variety of screens are popping up from some widgets she plonked on the desk, showing maps and photographs and diagrams of all sorts.)

Evantia is far too polite to say 'what the fuck' but it is extremely plain, despite her generally expressionless demeanour, that if she was not exceedingly polite, she would indeed be saying 'what the fuck', possibly repeatedly.

(The magical fog probably does have a source! However, the effect is now on the entire region, in the magical-boundaries sense. Also, the considerable quantity of widgets will probably also report that the stars are wrong and this is plainly a deliberate anti-scrying effect, this time on the entire territory (and the one bordering it to the north), which is probably not helping.)

"Please feel free to speak your mind, I know I'm an absolute absurdity."

Oh, well, that's fine, she has a baseline starchart to compare to which means that if she pipes it through the astral decryption module she can actually align her scrying with the anti-scrying like so, resonating backwards -

"...and let's see what you're hiding -"

"I assure you that if I was capable of formulating a reasonable question, I would have already done so," she replies, rather over-precisely enunciated and slightly through gritted teeth; she feels distinctly like she should be able to formulate a relevant question even though this is definitely out of her field and probably out of everyone's field and also, like, what the fuck.

The shroud is pierced; it is hiding... well, mostly, that there is a conspicuous absence of orc armies in the region and it looks a lot like they're packing up as much of what can be moved as they can and desperately shipping it north in ox carts. Well, kind of ox carts. More horrible-giant-lizard carts.

There are a number of Sites Of Horrible Torture which could fit the relevant description, all somewhat magically relevant and extremely icky. It appears that they did not think 'the local populace' was something they could take with them, and have, uh, used it on site.

"Ah, I see.  Going to be a bit busy with --"

"...oh bloody hell, fine then, rapid intervention it is, and fuck you and fuck you and most certainly fuck you and you and let's get that pattern automated because I can hardly pluck out every one of these fast enough to save the people they're going to murder - and fucking hell -

"I'm going to do something that might be a bit much - but people are dying and I can't just knowingly let that happen.  Excuse me just a moment."

And she yeets herself into the nearest cleared space, for having space to work in, and starts setting up a ritual circle via holoprojector, simple except for the fact that it dynamically networks thousands of entanglements and mana taps to a central effector structure - that she simply places her hands in, pulling the flow of magic through herself and her mantle to attune it to her purpose and control, to feed back into her army, marshaling the production and deployment of emergency response forces - flicker shields, redundant processors, sedative spray, taser beams (not to be confused with laser beams), earthmoving and wardbreaking tools...  There are, despite her distaste for them, even some reinforced units with actual guns and rune-spells of various caliber - to break through the Druj and save people.

O goddess mine, I ask of you a boon in a time of direst need - for yet so many souls will be denied your care if I do not act, now, with faculties beyond me - and so I seek your aid to aid others, your hands to reach out with, your cornerstone for this edifice of virtue; I know it is much, but my need is dire and the problem so far beyond my attention alone, and I am alone, in a world that knows you nor I not.  Please help.  Amen.

Around her, there is a fence of caution tape.  HIGH-ENERGY WORKING - DO NOT DISTURB.

The remaining sentinel on duty outside the chapel is Extremely Alarmed as she hurtles past, and attempts to intercept her as she throws herself off the gangway, but despite having impressively quick reactions - and having a little warning from the proceeding dialog - was in no way expecting this.

Upon landing, she is swiftly surrounded by several converging units of sentinels; they are sensible enough to not immediately charge through into an active ritual, a couple of magic users are casting Detect Magic to attempt to work out what she might be doing, and the highest ranking Sentinel shouts: "Please explain yourself so that we do not need to take preventative action!".

They seem to think that they can afford a few moments to let her answer, but are strongly considering charging in and attempting to render her unconscious if an explanation is not forthcoming.

Evantia dashes out of the chapel after her. "Don't let them stop her," she instructs the sentinel, "she's working against the Druj."

The sentinel starts to sprint down the structure; Evantia looks on anxiously from the gangway, taking a deep breath and getting ready to have a Very Good Shout if it seems like the situation is going to escalate before her messenger arrives.

"Fucking over the Druj before they can kill more people!"

And her diagrams are still up, if anybody's paying attention to those.  "Now quiet would you, I need to focus."

The sentinels do not seem to be extremely convinced by this pithy answer, so Evantia finishes taking her deep breath, winces pre-emptively, and in her best No Really Pay Attention Across This Entire Battlefield voice, yells "STAND DOWN! DO YOU WANT THE DRUJ DESTROYED OR DON'T YOU?"

That is about all she can get across before her ability to make that much noise gives out, but she strikes a suitably stern and imposing pose on the gangway, ready to gesture frantically if they don't seem to have got the message - even though what she really wants now is to get a nice glass of milk and sip it very gently.

This appears to have at least caused an argument to break out amongst the Sentinels. The magic users who were casting detect magic give their reports; they are extremely confused, it seems like some kind of entity is protecting the working, it believes itself to be benevolent, and claims this is coordination and setup for a larger magical working.

This does not at all reassure the sentinel commander who thinks they should disable the rogue mage now and ask questions later, but Evantia's words - and the general consensus that anything that 'fucks over the Druj' is worth it regardless of the cost - are keeping them from immediate action.

Good, that would have been annoying.  Or possibly explosive, if they tried to force the matter.  There's rather a lot of magic going through here, even if she can't do anything worth doing with it on this side of the circle.

Now, it is time to RTS protagonist these fuckers.

She pulls up the overview map on the big screen, and gets to work.

(And Keth and co. get a notification: "Commencing hostilities against Druj; recommend drawing back from engagements within AO when signaled to avoid friendly fire.  Expect to receive repatriation of surviving Grendel forces ETA several hours, days.")

Oh great. Keth will coordinate using the Helpful Communication Device for Mhendi to start casting Winged Messenger to Salt Lord Kaliact immediately.

From what she's gathered of the tactical situation, the Grendel forces here are spread very thin and mostly trying to keep local order, the main armies having been shipped out for resupply once the Empire's latest summit had concluded without any sign they were about to dramatically break the treaty.

So they shouldn't be in the way of whatever ridiculous magical nonsense was about to befall the Druj. She'd kind of hoped they'd still be a threat during the meeting with Kaliact to distract Myra from whichever local conditions she disapproved of, but really she can't feel sad about anything bad happening to that bunch of horrendously wasteful idiots.

Big map! Ossuary and Screed in Spiral are the main areas, but the Druj occupation also spreads over into Occursion and Proceris up into Zenith (supplementary map!), where there are actually armies - quite a few armies - which are thoroughly engaged with Imperial forces.

The Druj armies appear to be trying to escape through the big spooky forest named Lustri, and are Not Having A Good Time, although the Imperial forces seem to be much more interested in rescuing prisoners, dismantling torture sculptures, laying tortured souls to rest and consecrating everything in sight, than in preventing their escape or cutting them down.

Most of the Druj who are left in Ossuary and Screed are either engaged in frantically attempting to not be there any more, digging in to hide and hoping they'll be overlooked long enough to flee when everything has calmed down, or deciding they have been hung out to dry and having as much fun as they can before the inevitable happens - and by 'fun', we mostly mean 'horrifically torturing their underlings and anything that can feel pain and has the misfortune to get close enough'.

There is also a cabal of, uh, even more impressively awful Druj than usual, who have rounded up everyone they could find and have taken them to the Black Plateau itself - upon which they are doing the worst things they can possibly think of, including to each other, presumably in an attempt to somehow make everything even worse than it already was. There is definitely a lot of magic and a lot of exciting herbal concoctions involved in this.

Yeah how about no.

No torture, no horrible magic rituals, no escaping into spooky death forest - coordinate with Imperial forces to speed up the rescue process, she has trucks - Oh, goddammit, is she going to have to unweave whatever this is herself - artillery is the king of the battlefield and she has lots of it even if it's softdropping capture foam - thank you, she almost missed those guys - nuh-uh, flank those dumbasses - healing's spreading fine, she's captured a pillar to analyze and is working on freeing the souls from the structure without bringing the rest of it down - oh hey no do not touch the fucking obsidian now is not time for a blaze of glory/vengeance, you are being saved, please do not resist - 

The Imperial forces are Rather Nonplussed about trucks but generally are quite battle-weary and extremely happy that some kind of weird-ass magical support has clearly arrived. There are some arguments about whether it's from 'Zakalwe' or 'Estavus', and some of the more religious types who are mostly in monochrome with maybe one colour highlight - the Highborn - are especially suspicious, but everyone is considerably too busy to actually do anything but stay clear and let other people deal with it.

Ex-prisoners in Spiral do seem to be extremely keen on vengeful murder rampages, and reaching out to unweave the power that the cabal has built up on the Black Plateau...

hate. hate. before there was anything there was hate. after there is nothing there will still be hate. the more you fight hate the more it hates you. the more you fight the hatred the more you hate it. hate. hate.

The Plateau is not a thinking creature, but it has attracted at least one very powerful thinking spirit creature, which is currently making an extremely concerted effort to burrow its way into Myra's soul - or, failing that, tunnel through the connection and eat all the delicious nearby Sentinels.

Yeaaaaah, she saw that coming a mile away, and a choked-out "Sha protocol!" causes an eyewatering mess to be made of local space, in addition to more mundane barriers, in order to isolate her from bystanders.

The screen flashes a bright yellow WARNING: HOSTILE POSSESSOR ENTITY SAFEGUARDS ENGAGED.  THAUMATURGICAL C&C OFFLINE FOR SAFETY REASONS.  ENGAGING FALLBACK MECHANISMS.

And then...she cries.

Because even as she experiences visceral disgust at almost everything this being does, she cannot help but mourn the life she is about to take.  She's so sorry.  But there isn't a world in which both it and she can live, and she must selfishly choose herself, and save as many lives as she possibly can with that choice to make it worth the cost she pays.  She wishes she could do better by it, but no matter how strong her goddess is, she is only human.  It has one chance to surrender, before she does what she must.  And she will do it, with calm and care.  Its death is its choice.

what will you do if I surrender

The sentinels appear to be... hastily erecting a structure around her structure? And ushering in a ritual team?

not kill you.  keep you from hurting others.  keep others from hurting you if you are not hurting others.  provide things necessary to your wellbeing, if possible.

hurting feeds hate and hate inspires hurting but it is not all there is. we can explore hate without hurting together?

these people around you hate, they hate the druj, they would hate me if they know me; they warm me, they would hurt me if they could, but they cannot if i am in you?

hate is not something I wish to explore myself for I know it would lead me to hurt and I hate hurting, but there are ways you could explore hate-without-hurting with my assistance.

they warm you?

if you were in me my body would hurt you; if you were in me my soul would hurt you.  I can make bodies that will not hurt.

i can make a body if you intend to defend it

if you surrendered you would be protected as any other thinking being would under my rules.