A subterranean bunker gets built, deep in the water and as far away from land as would ever be possible on this planet. A remote-operated cannon, on a robotic arm designed to let it move with superhuman dexterity, stands ready to fire lead with enough force to drag its future residents' heads from their necks. And hiding inside a lead-lined submersible floating just slightly above the bunker, enough casters to ensure that they'd be unable to be brought back using even a Wish or a Miracle. The only step remaining is putting one of the diamonds prepared for this to use.

I Wish for these people to be gently transported from their current location (Westcrown, most likely), to that lovely room over there.

Aspexia wastes no time, she immediately grabs Abrogail's hand and Plane Shifts to He-

Several cannons fire dozens of small lead balls with vast amounts of energy, that effectively manage to drag the pulpy remains of the heads of those in the room towards one of the walls, separating them from their necks as intended. The room should now be safe enough for casting the necessary magic to guarantee that its residents will not be revived by any method.

Quickened Dimensional Door, Soul Bind.

She hears the others around her doing the same, trapping most of Cheliax powerful casters into gems.

A cleric rushes into the throne room. He doesn't stop to bow.

Gorthoklek would normally set someone on fire for such an insolence, but Abrogail just disappeared midsentence, so something is afoot.

He says "Her Majesty and the Most High have been kidnapped. Protocol is to Wish them both immediately to restore chain of command."

The pit fiend grabs a scroll of Dominate Person from his bag of holding. "Fail your will save." He casts it. "Was that the truth?"

"Yes."

He casts his yearly Wish, willing Abrogail and Aspexia back here.

It doesn't work.

A thomassian sniper with excellent equipment and excellent training is able to hit a target - or launch a warning shot - from a distance of approximately 2.5 kilometers. Several small, dispersed teams of soldiers would hence be able to effectively patrol vast areas of Cheliax, controlling critical supply lines and the flow of goods. In the first stage of the operation, invisible in the pitch-black night in their black body armor, dozens of small guerrila bands simultaneously placed a sign outside several outlying cities that formed regional power centers.

Thomassian medical personnel, logistics experts and volunteers quietly hide themselves within the population of the surrounding hamlets and villages, preparing them for the vast wave of refugees escaping the cities after realizing that the food will not come.

"Have them arrested! I want those terrorists executed and Maledicted by the day's end!"

"What do you mean you can't Scry them? We have their ridiculous declaration, what's the difficulty?"

"This is ridiculous! I'm going to have the next person bringing me bad news set on fire!"

"I specifically asked for apples today!" "... how did we run out of apples? The market is today!" "No food merchants? At all?"

"Why were there only two guards at my door tonight? No, I don't care how much it costs, hire more mercenaries!"

"I locked the door with my own key! And there was an Alarm on the whole room!"

"Empty??? Just raise more taxes!"

On Oathday, the head of the former Paraduke Marcellus Thurivan can be seen peering from above the gate of Belde. On a spike.

You can order your men to march, to arrest, to investigate. But only as long as they can eat.

When a population runs out of food, you'll find that your power starts slipping through your fingers, until you're holding nothing.

The people from the city can get outside to find places where food is still available, but less and less come back at night.

This is the way the siege of Belde ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

Tyranny can create very efficient and orderly chains of command, where people obey without questioning.

But it stifles innovation. It suppresses independence.

This is even more evident in Gorthoklek. He can easily lead the Chelish armies, creating a massive headache for the liberation. He just needs the order to do so.

There are protocols in places for enemies killing any of their most powerful people, of course. There are no protocols for someone soultrapping all of them.

Cheliax folds like a house of cards.

The waterfront is the most desirable and pleasant place to live; not only do you get the view of an endless sea and fantastic play opportunities, but there are also oceanic winds keeping things comfortably cool. The thomassians, now occupying Cheliax, put together one of their hypercompact reactor cores within a bunker beneath the heart of an abandoned port city, providing the energy needed for building and living in the city, and get to work. It takes only months before they end up with an adequate amount of temporary, low-rise housing for some of the city's returning residents, as thomassian workers quickly put together one of the beachfront skyscrapers right next to the homes. A new, less morbid sign gets placed outside:

That is a trap, right? Whoever goes to those luxury mansions is going to get tortured and horribly killed, probably.

Cynthia waits at the city gates, smiling at a few people looking at it from the outside. "Won't you want to return to your old homes? You can return to your old jobs, meet your old friends, get your old life back, or something even better! Me and the others are happy to help you if you need anything!"

A merchant approaches the gate.

"Why would you do that? Aren't you the same people that starved us just months ago?"

"We forced you to leave your homes, so the tyrants leading you would have no choice but to let you leave. Our goal was always to remove the power of all the barons, not starve you. We hid our agents where you were heading, so we could guarantee you'd have food when you got there. We only wanted to help you."

Well. It is true that outside the city, everyone found food. There were still many deaths, though! Like poor Corvinus, or Eugenna...

In fairness to the invaders, Corvinus got stabbed by his maid. But still, people died, and Eugenna was definitely killed because of the food! He can still remember her poor face, her surprise at the poison he had slipped in her goblet...

"Who have you appointed as the new mayor?" - and where does he come from.

"No mayor yet! We do have guards enforcing thomassian law; it's nothing too demanding. Our laws are just "don't nonconsensually touch another person's body, directly or indirectly" and "don't prevent a person from enjoying an item they expended effort to get, directly or indirectly." You'd have to ask a lawgiver to know whether something specific you're doing counts, but I don't think you should really be worried. The Captain of the Guard is probably the most mayor-like person we have now; you'd probably want to contact him for anything you'd need a mayor for, until we can get you a mayor that you're happy to have."

These people are weird. They sound like they care about what the population wants.

And they're way, waaaay too Chaotic and Good.

"Well, the city's not done, but it's still ready. Don't you want to move in to a house near the sea?"

"How much is it going to cost?" Is it going to be worth it as a status symbol? Are there going to be better and worse houses to signal wealth?

"Maybe 20% of what you'd earn as a nanny, caring for thomassian kids? Although men don't tend to like that work... we still want quite a few people stocking the shelves of stores, or offering massages, or making coffee, that kind of work. What was your previous profession? There's a chance thomassia has something similar, although the workday would probably look very different."

Of course she can't tell, she's a foreigner after all.

"I am a merchant. I have a shop in town, but most of my job is traveling to acquire rare goods." And also cater to his... other tastes.