“Aurry, can’t you summon some?” Harruq asked. “Same with you, right Tar?”
Deathmask chuckled at the half-orc. “Did no one bother to tell him of the components for mage banquets?” he asked.
“Components?” Harruq asked.
In answer, Tarlak reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of small yellow gems. He handed one to the half-orc.
“Topaz,” the wizard said. “The more the food, the more topaz we use. What, did you think those extravagant meals we fed you were free?”
“I have some as well,” Aurelia said. “Enough to feed five for a month, but how many thousands are here? It will never last.”
“Keep it simple,” Deathmask said. “Plain bread. If we spread it out, we might have enough to last an extra week.”
“Tarlak, Aurelia, do you mind being responsible for the food and water until another solution is found?” Antonil asked. Tarlak laughed.
“Sure, why not. I don’t mind being a walking bakery.”
Another moment of silence. Antonil knew the first part was easier, at least compared to what he planned to propose.
“So we have no shelter,” the guard captain began, “and limited food. Where else can we go to seek aid? Omn is a brutal month away, through the deep of winter no less. We must go to the elves and request their aid.”
“You’re a fool,” Deathmask said. “After you nearly start a war to remove them from Woodhaven, you think either race of elves will give food and shelter to so many refugees?”
“The one responsible for that edict is dead,” Antonil said. His ragged face hardened. “And do you see any other option? If I must, I will have Scoutmaster Dieredon plead my case.”
“They will turn us away,” Deathmask insisted. “Mordan waged war to push them across the rivers, and then Neldar banished them from their lands. We are not welcome, and we are not wanted. You might as well turn us back around and march us right into Veldaren!”
“And if I thought it was the best path for my people, I’d be the first to kneel before the armies of the dead,” Antonil shouted. “But I’ll be damned if I watch the rest of this nation slaughtered by Karak’s madness.”
“Quiet down now,” Tarlak said, stroking his goatee as he glanced between the two. “Deathmask, I understand your worry. Personally, I think the elves will be thrilled at the chance to thumb their noses at us, but does anyone here know of any possible alternative?”
Silence.
“I didn’t think so,” Tarlak said. “I don’t know the prejudices of most here, but the elves aren’t evil, and they aren’t heartless monsters. There are too many weak and helpless here for them to fully turn us away. The bigger question is, do we seek help from the Quellan or the Dezren elves?”
“The Quellan,” Aurelia said. She shifted in Harruq’s lap. “They will help us. The Dezren will just turn us away.”
“How do you know this?” Tarlak asked.
“Wait a second,” Harruq interrupted. “What’s the difference between, what is it? Quellan? Dezren?”
“Does no one tell this beast anything?” Deathmask muttered.
“Watch it,” Harruq grumbled.
“The Dezren elves once lived in Mordan,” Lathaar said. He had drawn his sword and laid it across his lap, his eyes staring at the soft blue-white glow. “King Baedan waged war, quick and brutal, to force them from their forests by systematic fires. Those fires spanned for miles and filled the sky with smoke and ash. The elves fled across the rivers and settled in what you know as the Derze forest. Many came to the Citadel for aid, but we…”
“You turned us away,” Aurelia said. “Left us cold and hungry and scared as we entered a country not our own in search of a home.” As she spoke, both Jerico and Lathaar stared at the ground in shame. “A kind word, a hand raised in aid, and we might have believed that not all humankind shared such hatred and disgust. You were the champions of the god of men. You turned us away. The Dezren elves will not give us aid.”
“I was but a child at the time,” Lathaar said in the following quiet. “I don’t know the reason. Politics, perhaps, or maybe Sorollos’s influence had grown too strong. But I remember your faces. So beautiful. So tired. I tried to offer some food to a small elven boy. My headmaster slapped the bowl out of my hand and ordered me inside.”
“The Quellan elves share their hatred,” Antonil said, his own voice turning ragged. “Why would they help us? It is they who helped the Dezren build homes in their forest while Vaelor turned a blind eye to their plight.”
“Harruq,” Aurelia said. “Tell them what your brother said to you, just before you fled the city.”
The half-orc shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with the amount of eyes watching him. How many didn’t know of Qurrah? How would he explain who he was, and what his brother had done?
“Qurrah,” he said, trying to find a place to start. “He…just before we left, he entered my mind. He said Celestia’s wall had fallen, and that thousands of demons were pouring into the city. I don’t know what he meant, or if he spoke the truth.”
“Celestia’s wall?” Mira asked, startling those around her. She had remained silent for the meeting, but now seemed focused.
“Who is this ‘Qurrah,’” Deathmask asked. “And what wall did he speak of?”
“Qurrah…” Harruq began.
“Was once a member of my Eschaton,” Tarlak interrupted. “He has caused us much grief, and sides with the servants of Karak. He commands many of the army that overran Veldaren.”
“Qurrah,” Antonil said. “The necromancer you accused of mutilating the bodies half a year ago? He leads this army?”
“Yes,” Tarlak said. “We did not kill him when we had the chance. Now we all pay dearly for our failure.”
“The wall,” Mira said. “Tell me, what is it?”
Aurelia started to speak, but Antonil held up a hand.
“It is my failure,” he said, “and I will tell it. Only kings and guard captains are shown what is behind the throne curtains. It is a mural depicting Ashhur and Karak entering this world through a swirling door made of stars. Whenever a new king takes the throne the Quellan elves send a single diplomat, always with the same request. ‘Will you guard that which all other Kings have guarded?’ Most assume it means peace, or life, but that isn’t it. Our scholars believe it is through that wall, that gate of stars, that the gods entered our world. The Quellan elves confirm this.”
“Whatever Celestia guarded our world from cannot be ignored,” Mira said.
Antonil stood and turned his back to the fire. His hands shook at his side.
“I swore to guard the throne of the king with my life, yet here I am. What has your vile brother done, Harruq? What has he released into our world?”
Aurelia brushed aside Harruq’s arms and stood, placing her hand atop Antonil’s shoulder. He flinched but did not push her away.
“The Quellan elves will fight them,” she said. “No good would have come from your death, nor the sacrifice of the thousand that look to you for strength. Say the destination, and we all will follow. Give the word, and your people will gladly die in the cold, damp earth. It is better than the fate you spared them from.”
“Is it?” Antonil asked as the guards at the perimeter called out warning. Undead approached. “Can you be so certain?”
W ake, my disciple,” Velixar said. Qurrah muttered and crept open an eye.
“Can it wait until dawn?” he asked. Velixar frowned, displeased at the lack of immediate obedience.
“Ulamn returns. Stand. Our new army comes.”
Tessanna stirred at the sound of their voices.
“Our army?” she asked. Her voice was drowsy and her eyes still closed. “Do they march with our banner? Do they obey our commands?”
“In time,” Velixar said. The portal swirled, the stars violent. “Qurrah, stand. Their passing will tax your strength.”
Gently Qurrah slid Tessanna off his chest and to the floor. He staggered to his feet, brushed his eyes, and then screamed in horrid pain. Velixar grit his teeth, and his eyes faded. Ulamn stepped through, flanked by twenty
