Jenk and Arasen crawled up the grassy hillock and peered north. The bridge across the Novinan River sat a few hundred feet away, its stone towers and span crawling with enemy soldiers. Tegg had ordered them to find a way across, and the pair were simply at a loss.

“There's too cursed many”, Jenk whispered. “We'll never fight our way through.”

Arasen didn't say anything. He was considering the stone of the bridge. Although he could manipulate stone to a degree with his magic, he had yet to turn that into a ticket across. The rest of the party would be annihilated before he could move any useful amount of bridge material. His answer to Jenk was to crawl back down the hill.

At the camp, half a day's walk south, the mood of the party was miserable. Tegg headed a discussion about possible plans for the remainder of the day. Nearly every member of the group spent time arguing and debating, but no one could come up with a useful means of crossing the bridge. Their main obstacle was the depth and speed of the river. The Novinan had once been a wide, shallow river connecting the Novinan Lake at Tivar to the Sea of Sorrin to the East but trade profits had brought major changes. Long stone walls were built along the edges of the river to narrow it, giving trade barges the draft depths they needed to become profitable. Canal walls and docks were added to allow for mule teams to handle tricky cargo in some of the turns. As a result, the river ran fast and deep making crossing by swimming chancy even in warm weather.

Two bridges spanned the Novinan. Just north of the party was the Caravan Bridge, part of the same road they had started out on in Bridgetown. It consisted of two large stone arch spans to a central tower with fortified gates on either side. The spans stood thirty feet above the river with steep stone walls on either side of the two river channels. A ten day ride further east would bring them to the Lighthouse Bridge, named for the road that ran from Port Redcap to the Sorrin Lighthouse. The group had briefly discussed heading that way, but the added time and potential for more Tohri guards eliminated that plan.

In exasperation, Tegg went with Dar and Talbert to scout the bridge, saying “Maybe a new pair of eyes will see something the rest of us haven't.”

When they returned, Tegg was forced to admit that Arasen and Jenk were right. “We'll have to do it with stealth” he said as they sat in a circle. The sun had just started its late decent, casting the grasslands in a pale orange glow. There were worried looks from around the group, but Tegg stubbornly ignored them. “If we move quietly, we should be able...” Tegg continued, but Talbert interrupted.

“Should be able to what? Get killed? We can't sneak across that bridge, Tegg!”

There were a few grunts of support for Talbert, but Tegg was resolute. “We have to try. We have to get across if we want to do this job.”

An hour later the group crawled through the grass until they reached the roadway. Peering North, Tegg could see the beacon fires lit on top of the southern towers, and felt his doubts steadily increasing. It would be hard enough to see what was going on without the constant fear of getting stabbed, shot or falling into the river. The moment passed and he took a deep breath. Tegg looked back at Jenk and Winstin, who were the closest. He signalled to continue north along the edge of the road, and moved forward. Jenk and Winstin hesitated.

“This is idiotic” Winstin whispered.

Jenk wanted to argue, but couldn't.

The grass faded out on the small hillside that approached the towers, leaving an exposed ring. For the guards on top of the squat towers, it gave a good view of the area and although there hadn't been any skirmishes recently, they were on alert. If the Tohri had waited, they might have drawn Tegg and his group into a slaughter, but the sudden appearance of a Tivar scout group broke the guards boredom and they began firing immediately at an extreme range.

Tegg knew they had been spotted and was trying to make something of the situation when Jenk grabbed his shoulder. “They have us, Tegg! We have to retreat!”

Tegg experienced a moment of panic. He looked back at the few faces he could make out in the dark and realized he was leading them into certain death.

Winstin saw the fleeting doubt in Tegg's eyes and reacted before Tegg could do something stupid. “We have no chance Tegg! We have to get out of here.”

Tegg swallowed hard, then croaked out. “Run!”

The party dejectedly returned to Tivar, spending five and a half days in silence. After running for the entire night and most of the next morning the party decided they were not being followed. Winstin, Jenk and Talbert went to get fresh supplies and the main party went back to their Inn. At the storage depot they loaded up on food and Jenk headed to discuss alternate routes with the map teams in Greenward. Tegg found a corner of the inn to sit with a pipe and tankard of ale.

Jenk laid the newly acquired map on the table for the rest of the party and indicated their last futile trip. “Here's the bridge, and this is the river. We can cross at a few places, but I think Winstin and Dar suggest otherwise?”

Dar nodded “The best bet is to cross the lake with one of the fishing fleets. They'll drop us off on the far shore and we can travel east along the river.” She traced a line through the area north of the river which was marked with heavy forest.

Winstin took a place next to Dar and pointed to the forests, “This adds the risk of these woods, its pretty dangerous wilderness. The terrain is flat enought by the river, though, so we won't have to walk up any of these hills.”

Jenk pointed to the bridge and traced the road north “Redcap is here, on the sea coast. We'll have to cross the caravan road somewhere.” No one answered and Tegg shrugged. “Then we'll come to that when we come to it. For now we should catch up on sleep and head out tomorrow.” Jenk said.

That evening, Tegg found himself surrounded by Jenk, Winstin and Vallen. He saw the look in their faces and started to argue, but Vallen barked him down. “Dammit Tegg, shut up and listen.” she said, crossing her arms.

“You nearly got us killed up there” Winstin said. “And all because you dug in your blasted heels like an old goat.”

Tegg grunted, but couldn't respond, knowing Winstin was right. Jenk noted his mood and said. “Listen, Tegg. You're the leader of this cursed little band, and that means you have to think like one. You had the mission so tied up in your mind that you couldn't see.”

Tegg's face soured, but Vallen interrupted him. “Don't start. You've got the only two qualifications to lead. You're generally good at it and nobody else wants to do it.”

Valen joined Ren and Cathnoma at a table and Jenk settled in with another tankard of ale. Tegg fumed a bit, then went to bed.

Finding passage across the lake turned out to be easier than they'd hoped. A fishing Captain named Noffitom lept at the chance to take them. Jenk discovered him in one of the few open pubs near the docks nursing a tankard with his first mate. Noffitom was thin, tall and angular with an impressive moustache and favored a military-style uniform with a few dubious accents. His mate, introduced as Gaff, was a massive barrel of a man with a long mane of hair and more beard than face. Gaff seemed to be widely known in the pub, and drew Jenks attention with his booming laughter.

“I'd love to take you across the lake!” Noffitom exclaimed. At Jenk and Tegg exchanged curious looks he contined “There's limits on when we can fish, see? They're worried about overfishing with all the refugees and no new stock coming in. So they've got these lots and we drew... poorly.”

Gaff's thunderous laughter filled the pub. “Poorly? Your luck in that draw was worse than Kuvin's luck at the dance!”

Tegg and Jenk missed the reference, but took heart at the Captain's interest. “What does that have to do with us?”

Noffitom smiled and pointed at their rank insignia. “Those are my keys on to the water. You being on military business means I'm on military business. If I have to wait around to pick you back up... well, I'll just have to pass the time fishing!”

Jenk grinned and shook the Captain's hand. “We can be ready tomorrow morning if you can.”

Captain Noffitom's fishing boat was named the "High Fin". It was a very long, narrow ship with a large main foremast and a smaller rear one. The front of the ship was a traditional sailship shape, with a long spar and low forecastle with two lookout stations. There was a low pilot house behind that with the main mast just behind it. The rest of the long rear of the ship was dedicated to shallow holds that sat just under the waterline which could be filled with fish and water. The ship rode high and could move quickly when empty, but once the holds were full of fish the ship would crawl through the lake waters. Everyone climed aboard carefully, avoiding the two other crewmen who were busy setting lines and readying the ship to sail.

For most of the party the trip across the lake was peaceful, even for Cathnoma. The dog took to riding on the siderail, tounge out and nose high as the boat cut through the water. Dar, however, did not take as well to the water. Every wave reflected in the shifting colors of her face, each turn of the boat evoked a moan and when the Captain brought them some coffee and biscuits, she hastily excused herself into the damp hold.

“We'll make a fisher of her yet”, Gaff joked as he passed Dar in the hatchway.

It took them a full day and a half to reach the northern shore, even under full sail.

Jenk helped Vallen and Arasen out of the last of the launches while Tegg and Winstin sorted out their gear. Captain Noffitom walked with them up to the edge of the sand to say farewell.

“I'll be keeping a lookout for you. I'll have to take my catch back every sixday or so, but we will check this shoreline every morning for you.” He said.

Tegg nodded and shook his hand. “We're in debt to you.”

Captain Noffitom shook a few hands and headed back to the last launch. There was a rumble of thunder and he peered East. “Storm coming in from the sea. It'll be a blower.” He said with a touch of concern. After a final salute, the captain headed out onto the lake.

Tegg gathered up his gear and called everyone together in the low grass atop the bank. “We'll set up camp out of sight of the lake.”

Captain Noffitom's prediction proved correct and the party had to endure several days of driving rain and wind. The woods offered some protection, but the near freezing water eventually seeped into everyone's clothes and packs. In desperation, Tegg finally called a halt to the entire march to let the rain blow over. Jenk and Tegg fashioned a makeshift shelter out of tents in the cover of some large spruce trees while Dar got a decent fire going. Hunkered down in the damp chill, they managed to partially dry out some of their blankets and gear and avoid the endless soaking.

Arasen took the opportunity to quiz Dar on her skills manipulating heat, but she seemed less than enthused about his continued questions. Winstin, Jenk, Tegg and Talbert took to learning to play stones to pass the time. Ren had also picked up a new student, although he seemed more baffled than bothered. Vallen had started asking him about his brotherhood shortly after leaving Tivar for their ill-fated scouting mission, but her questioning had steadily intensified until it became clear that she was not just a curious onlooker. Ren was pleased to have someone to discuss the goals and ideals of his studies, but worried about his skills as a teacher. He knew Vallen would be better off inquiring at the main temple, but he had no way to send her there safely and resigned himself to be her guide for the near term. He assumed her interest would wane eventually, and no harm would come of it.

The rain slacked over the next two days, and Tegg finally had them break camp on a misty and warm morning. They covered a good amount of ground that day, threading between the trees north of the river. As they set up camp the next night, Arasen turned to ask Dar a question and saw a spark of light in the distance.

“Tegg?” he hesitated, cocking his head and squinting at the light.

Tegg looked over and saw Arasen's expression. “What's over there?”

Arasen shook his head, “I think we should hold off on the fire. There's something over there.”

Jenk and Winstin grabbed their swords and bows and worked their way over. The branches of pine and spruce trees blocked their view, but they too could seen flickers of light in the distance. Without a word, the two headed into the woods to check it out.

Tegg and Ren had reorganized the camp by the time the two returned so that most of the gear had been repacked for a quick move.

“Watchtower” Winstin said, a bit out of breath.

Jenk nodded and sheathed his knife. “Just like the one Talbert tried to climb” he said with a grin. Talbert made a threatening gesture in jest, and grinned sheepishly.

Tegg waited a moment, then asked for options.

“We could take it out”, Talbert said with a bit of bravado.

Jenk and Winstin looked at each other then shook their heads. “We could” Jenk started

“But it would get ugly.” Winstin finished, “There's bound to be more towers running East of here, probably watching for supply boats on the river.”

Jenk agreed. “If we take one out, they'll know.”

“We could turn north, into the woods.” Vallen offered, although she seemed unenthused about the idea.

Tegg nodded. “It will slow us, and who knows what's lurking out here, but we need to get around those towers.”

That settled, the party turned north, taking a shallow arc around the towers. Within six days they reached the edge of the forest and camped just out of sight of the Caravan Road. They crossed the next morning and noted clear signs of heavy, recent use in the mud, but with no immediate enemies and clear skies, they travelled quickly through the grasslands northeast toward Redcap.

Winstin and Tegg stood dumbfounded in the charred remains of a farmhouse just uphill from the remains of Port Redcap. Only part of one wall of the farmhouse stood, its lone shutterless and blackened window looking over the corpse of the city. They had arrived to scout out the city an hour before, and neither had spoken since seeing the horrible scene. Redcap was a black smudge along the hillside, crisscrossed by the grey lines of city streets and dotted with skeletal chimneys and black wooden posts jabbing into the sky. Only one building in the entire city remained standing, a large round church on the far side. Its drab tan walls rose up from the charcoal husks of its neighbors, highlighting the devistation around it.

Tegg finally spoke “Let's get the others. We'll check the church and head back.”

Tegg allowed the rest of the party a good while to take in the devistation before moving into the city. Once inside the town's border, the devistation was nearly overwhelming. Every building had been set ablaze, physcally toppled or otherwise destroyed. It appeared from the detrius in the streets that most had been systematically emptied of content, then torched. Whatever had not been stolen had been smashed to bits, and most of that had eventually burned along with the structures around it. They stepped over the charred remains of furniture and breezes stirred burned bits of cloth. Cathnoma growled occationally, sniffing some bit of detrius or catching some whiff in the air.

“Who would do such a thing?” Dar asked, her face pale, but no one could answer.

Walking down a road that moved east through town, Tegg occationally thought he heard movement. He sent Jenk and Vallen to scout around, and then Ren and Arasen when they reported back. There didn't seem to be anyone or anything left, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the town was not empty.

When they reached the outer wall of the church's lot, Tegg stopped with a shiver. The damage and ash ended just outside the low decorative walls and the new buds of grass were shocking to see when compared to the devistation behind them. Jenk exchanged looks with Ren, then shrugged and hopped over the wall. There were a few exhales of breath when Jenk turned back with a relieved grin. The remainder of the party climbed over and made their way to the church's large double doors. Tegg walked up, then hestitated.

“I guess we should knock..” he said.

“Why? There's no one here.”, Jenk said. As he did, the main door opened and a heavy older man stepped out.

“Actually, there are a few people here.” he said, breaking into a smile.

Mogisor had heard the activity outside and was pleasantly surprised to find a group wearing Tivar colors on his very doorstep. He hurried them inside and made a pot of weak tea.

“You have no idea how thrilled we are to see you.” he said, pouring cups all around. A group of perhaps ten others joined the priest while perhaps twice that lingered in the wings of the church, watching. They all seemed cautiously excited and surprised.

“Praelate, what happened to the town? And what are you all doing in here?”, Ren asked.

Mogisor's face fell. “The enemy attack was... unbelievable. The pale-skinned attackers came first and looted the town. The militia was no match for them and as soon as resistance stopped they left the townsfolk alone and simply raided the warehouses and storehouses. When they moved on... they left behind the animals.”

“Animals? What kind of animals?”, Jenk asked.

“They're still here.” Mogisor said in a half-whisper, glancing at the doors. “The animal-things. They look like people, but they're not. ”

When Mogisor stopped, Dar prompted him, “I don't think we understand, sir. What are you talking about?”

Mogisor moved away from the tables and looked out one of the windows. “The animals are man sized and shaped. But they sound like animals.”

A sudden flash hit Jenk. “I saw them!” he said in a rush, “Up at the road to the Tohri fortress. When we got split up. They were screeching and hollering.”

Mogisor nodded. “They'll be out tonight. I've warded the church grounds against them, but I cannot do anything else. They burned the town to the ground and I could do nothing but watch.”

One of the townsfolk moved up to comfort the Praelate. “That's not true and you know it.”, he chided. “You kept us all safe.”

“Then why stay?” Tegg asked.

“These people cannot fight those monsters. Our town guard was helpless, we'd be picked off if we tried to get out.”, Mogisor said sadly. “Besides, the Lady said you were coming.” Mogisor gestured reverently to a large statue of a woman carrying a lantern that stood on one side of the aisle. The woman had no face, only the slightest indication of where eyes and a nose might be. She stood with her lantern outstretched, looking downward at them.

Tegg considered this, then let it pass. “Tell us exactly what happened here.”

Mogisor crossed his hands in front of his enormous middle and sighed. “I have been the last priest of the Lady of the Light for forty six years. In all that time I felt her direct presence only twice, at least until these attackers arrived. ”

Standing in the entryway to the sacred area of the church, Mogisor considered the day's service and whether anyone would come. Tarrim, the town drunk, had taken it in his head to come for services of late and it seemed to help him. Although the man smelled like he'd slept down at the fishmarket's slurry yard, Mogisor was happy to have someone to chat with. It was doubly blessed if Tarrim got even the tinyest bit of sanity from his short visits. There was also his normal crowd of people who wanted a touch of his healing to assist one of the town's regular healers. Hali and her husband Yimtisin would certainly be there, as Hali's arthritus was acting up and Yimtisin had taken a bad spill on his boat a few weeks back. Although neither would say that they were healed by Mogisor, they seemed to feel more at peace while sitting in the church.

Mogisor opened the large outer doors and was checking the pews when he felt a warmth spreading from his head downward. He paused and looked up, thinking the sun had perhaps peeked from behind a cloud and found a path through the windows. The feeling intensified, and he was suddenly aware of The Lady's presence. He tried to kneel, to fall on the floor in reverence, but couldn't move. The peace and bliss he felt were overwhelming. In the midst of that peace, however, was an urgency, a warning. He tried to avoid the thought, mentally move back into the warmth from this cold fear, but it surrounded and shocked him.

“I must defend the church.” he whispered in a daze. “They are coming.”

Mogisor snapped awake and rushed to the doorway. He looked up the long hill that Redcap ran down and saw nothing. A tiny seed of doubt sprang to life, until he looked to sea. Entering the harbor were ships with red sails. Mogisor had never heard of a ship with red sails and now he watched as dozens entered the harbor. He turned and waddled over to the belltower, hurled open the doors and collected every rope he could reach. Throwing his considerable weight skyward he looped the ropes around his arms and fell.

The sudden din of bells woke many in Redcap from their morning routines. People stopped to look up at the church in confusion, then looked around for an explaination. Within moments, the town guard had been raised and people rushed throughout the city to protect, defend or hide from the massive red ships.

Mogisor paused in his tale and took a drink of water. “The ... Tohri as you call them, were efficient and determined. They raided every shop and loaded their ships down with the spoils. Many in town seemed to accept this as a fair trade for their lives, but a few... realized something was wrong. The Tohri were leaving without any worry that we might contact Tivar to warn them.”

The praelate stopped again and paled a bit. Tegg went to stop him, but Mogisor raised his hand and continued. “There was a bit of a celebration when they left. People crowded the docks to watch them leave. One ship, however, stayed behind. It was berthed down on the main pier and at dusk, when the last ship pulled away it lowered one of its bottom gangplanks. There was a wailing... growling sound, and the animals rushed out and attacked.”

Mogisor looked sick, but continued. “They look like men, only hunched and hairy. They have fangs and claws like wolves and are terrible fast. They have two great loves it seems... eating and burning. I had used the time the Tohri were looting the town to set up the most powerful wards I dared attempt. The animals rushed up the hill, killing and ransacking as they went, but they were unable to break my spells. They have attacked every day near sunset. After they're frustrated enough, they go back into town to burn or smash things. Many have left to raid the countryside, but there are dozens left and I would guess they're getting pretty hungry.”

Arasen was the first to speak, “Gods and hells, that sounds awful. Are you sure they're still here? We didn't see anything on the way in.”

There were exchanged looks, but Mogisor shook his head. “They're still here. They sleep through much of the day.” Mogisor saw Jenk start to speak and interrupted. “I know, a few... tried to escape during the day. The animals are watching the church. I'm afraid your trip out will not be as simple. I don't think they expected anyone to walk in unannouced, and you picked a good time of day to arrive..”

Ren busied himself helping the townsfolk who were nursing injuries with Vallen close behind. Tegg, Talbert and Winstin went outside to look around while everyone else packed their bags with the supplies that Mogisor had stored up.

“We didn't see anything coming in here...” Winstin said as they walked the edge of the lot.

“I doubt the priest made this up” Tegg started.

“No, no.” Winstin said, “but what if these animal things are gone. Perhaps fear has kept them locked up here.”

Talbert hesitated, then walked to the edge of the wall. “No. They're still here.” he said firmly.

Tegg looked over and saw what Talbert was looking at. Just beyond the wall a large, hairy beast was looking back at them from the shadows of a burned-out building. It was human shaped. Short and squat with a thick reddish hair that covered the head, neck and shoulders. It was naked and unarmed and glared at them from its hideout. It obviously had enough intelligence to know it could not reach them, so it rocked back and forth silently. Finally, it left the shadows, turned up the street and loped out of sight.

“Ugly bastard.” Winstin whispered, putting his sword away.

At Mogisor's insistance they set up to spend the night in the church. Tegg set watches, even though Mogisor insisted the animal creatures could not enter and sat down with the priest to discuss plans.. Ren took to giving some small bits of aid to the refugees with Vallen close behind. Winstin and Jenk discussed the trip back with Mogisor, and decided to look around the church for any items that the refugees could use as defense against the creatures. Dar managed to escape Arasen and went to find somewhere quiet to meditate. The trip through the burned town had unsettled her, and she needed some time to recover.

Meanwhile, Talbert had wandered down one of the unused wings of the church, mostly out of boredom. His watch was last, so he had little to do. While examining a statue, one of the refugees came up.

“We're very glad you're going to help us get out of here.”, the older man said

Talbert mumbled somthing noncommittal, and immediately felt sorry for it.. The man had probably lost his family and friends, and to simply dismiss him seemed cruel. “You're welcome.”, Talbert said quickly, giving the man a small smile. The man seemed to be some sort of sailor or worker. He was fit, windburned and dressed in worker's garb. Sturdy but drab. “We weren't sent to save you, though” Talbert confessed, “We're just a scouting party.”

The man smiled, “Oh, that's alright. We've prayed a bit, but never expected anyone to come, even if Mogisor insisted.”

“Your Goddess told him we were coming?”

“So he says. I'm afraid Mogisor is just about the only one left who calls her his Goddess, though. Most of the townfolk are thankful for his healing herbs, but I don't think many claim Her.”

Talbert nodded and looked up at the statue. “Healing and mercy? Is that right?”

The old man smiled. “And light. It was once a mighty beacon, they say. Now it's a flickering candle.”

“What happened?”

The old man shifted his weight as a sad look passed over him. “Oh, that's a tale I'm not right to tell. Mogisor could tell you the whole of it, but you'd best have time to hear it. Its said that She once had followers throughout the empire and her light was carried across the world by the Lamberts.”

“Lamberts?”

“Holy knights. Bearers of the light and slayers of darkness.”, the man said with a reverent tone.

Talbert nodded, familiar with the idea of religious knights. He turned toward a small statue behind him of a knight. “Like this one?”

The man glanced over and nodded. “That, I believe, is Tivar himself. His is another unhappy tale, at least in the end. If you ask Mogisor, well, you'd better have even more time.”

Talbert chuckled “Sounds like Mogisor has a lot of tales. I hope we can help you get back so we can hear them.”

The man smiled. “I have no doubt. You're heart is pure and maybe you'll carry her blessing.”

Talbert felt a warm sensation, but shook it off, “I hope its enough, if her powers have waned so much.”

“The moon wanes and returns.” The man said, smiling and placing his hand on Talbert's shoulder “and faded is not the same as gone”

Talbert felt a sense of peace and smiled back at the man. “I thought you said Mogisor was the last of her followers, you sound like a convert.”, he said with a bit of gentle mocking.

The man's smile increased, “I would see the day that Mogisor not be the last of her followers.” he said with a bit of wistfulness. He then turned and walked back toward the center of the church

Talbert remained for a moment, looking at the statue, then he also turned and headed back toward the others.

When he reached the altar, Talbert noted that Mogisor, Tegg and Dar were discussing the path back to Tivar. He looked for the old man who had spoken to him at the statue, but didn't notice him with any of the groups of refugees.

The first noises began near sunset. Everyone jumped at the noise except for Mogisor and the refugees, who simply looked up briefly. At first it was a series of low wails, like wolves, but it rose and fell and odd barks and howls were heard.

“Do they really speak to each other?”, Tegg asked.

“A little. I don't know what they say to each other, but after the wards killed a few, they all stopped.”, Mogisor said as he packed some small items into a pack. “There are new ones sometimes, but they seem to already know about the wards. I don't know if the ones here tell them, or if they just know that there's some reason not to attack the church.”

“But they keep coming back?”, Vallen asked. “Why?”

Mogisor considered this and shrugged. “Desperation? Boredom? Hunger? I don't know. They move around the walls, testing and poking. Sometimes they push one of their pack into the ward.”

Jenk shuddered. “Will the wards hold?”

Mogisor frowned. “Tonight. I think. I would have to reset them tomorrow if we weren't leaving. If they figure that out and try to break in... I don't know if I could hold them all back for long.” Winstin made a sound of worry and Mogisor interrupted “I cannot make them stronger. They could break down the wards if they all tried at once, from different sides. But that's been true since I set them. ”

Ren sat first watch and Vallen stayed up with him, discussing his order. Ren had tried to dissuade Vallen from using him as her guide, but he could not find an escape. He was bound to help her, but wasn't qualified. For her part, Vallen was dogged in her inquiries.

Most of the remainder of the party set camp in one of the empty wings, away from the noise of the door.

The party roused the refugees before dawn and rushed through preparations to leave. Mogisor and Tegg held a brief counsil, hoisted their packs and readied themselves at the door.

“There will be a few stragglers waiting for me. I always check the seals at dawn.”, Mogisor said as Tegg lifted the heavy bar. Tegg nodded. Jenk drew his bow as Tegg pointed to Winstin and Talbert. With a nod from each, he slammed his shoulder into the door and they exited into the courtyard.

The creatures were waiting, but were unprepared for the group rushing out. Jenk stayed on the top step, drew his bow and fired blindly in the low light. The shot missed, but his second found the chest of one of the animal-creatures, knocking it backwards into the remnants of a wall. Tegg passed the magical barrier with his sword high with Winstin and Talbert flanking him. The three made short work of the last two creatures, mowing them down quickly.

Mogisor and the refugees poured out of the church. “Hurry”, Tegg said, pointing north. The haggard group started up the street and Tegg started barking orders to his group.

“Winstin, Ren, Arasen take point and lead them out to the road. We need to get across it before dusk. Talbert and Vallen, scout the side streets. Make sure we don't have anyone sneaking up on us. Jenk and Dar, you're with me. They'll be following us for sure.”

Mogisor came to join him, glancing down the street in fear.

“The daylight will slow them down, but they will follow us. We have to be well clear of the road before nightfall.”

Tegg surveyed the old and sick among the thirty-odd refugees and settled his pack.

The sun was barely a sliver of orange above the western treetops as they crossed the road. The sounds of pursuit were still distant, but it was now clear that the elderly and injured were far too slow. The creatures would catch them.

Tegg called them to a halt on the road, and groaned as several of the refugees nearly collapsed. “Winstin, you know the path to the lake, yes?” he asked quickly, looking east toward the town and the creatures.

“Yeah, I know it”, Winstin replied, turning to look at Tegg.

Tegg turned and clasped him on the shoulder, “Get them to the lake. ”

Winstin started to speak, but finally nodded and moved to get the refugees moving.

“Talbert and Ren, go with them.” Tegg said, turning to the rest of the party. “We'll give you time to escape.”

Ren walked up and shook his head. Tegg started to stop him, but he interrupted. “No. They have the priest and you'll need me more than they will.”

Tegg hesitated and scanned the rest of the party. There were exchanged looks, but no one seemed willing to leave. Jenk finally spoke, “Winstin and Talbert can get them there, the rest of us will stay.” There were murmurs of agreement and the sounds of weapons readying. Tegg grunted his agreement and turned to find Winstin already getting the refugees moving.

“I'll see you at the lake.” Winstin said, giving a brief nod.

Tegg took them to the western edge of the grass next to the road to give them the best view of the animals' attack. Dar and Arasen set up behind Ren while Tegg, Vallen and Jenk fanned to the side with their bows. Everyone dropped into the grass, finding what cover they could in tufts and Cathnoma growled low and hunched down as Ren stroked his head and settled himself.

The wait dragged on, giving them some hope that they could really hold out long enough to give the refugees time to reach the woods. Shadows lept out as the sun dropped below the treeline behind them. The noises from the animals changed pitch as they adjusted to the darkness, prompting the party to ready themselves.

The first animal broke through the low grass, sniffing the air and running at a low lope. It crossed the road quickly, head scanning from side to side. It paid no attention to what was ahead of it, and neither Tegg nor Jenk fired until it was nearly on top of them. Jenk released, Tegg turned to find the next target. Three more animals had pushed through the grass on the far side of the road, and although one looked up at the sound of its companion's grunt, it did not seem to understand the significance. Tegg lined up a shot at the largest and fired when it paused on the road to sniff. His shot was true and the monster fell with an arrow through the neck.

The two companions started to howl. Jenk managed to quiet one, and Tegg shot the third, but it was too late. A group of animals broke through the grass edge in a howling mass, charging up the slope to the road. The last creature Tegg had shot was still howling in pain and trying to get up, but Tegg shifted his shot to the ones coming toward the road, hoping to slow their progess. His first shot followed Jenk's into the leader, who went down with an arrow through the chest and another through its leg. Jenk stood up to get a better shot and Tegg dropped his bow and drew his sword. To the east, the grassland rippled with attackers. Dozens of them.

Winstin felt like pulling his hair out. Although he knew the older woman couldn't help the slow pace, he felt anger and resentment rising every time he had to go back and help someone through the brush or up a steep hill. Marti was eighty-seven and a former dockworker. Her wrinkled face brightened in a sad smile as Winstin helped her climb over the rotting remains of a fallen pine tree, tempering his frustration a bit. The combination of anger and self-chastisement made Winstin's stomach sour, and hearing the distant sounds of combat across the grassland did little to help. Mogisor had moved to the middle of the pack, coaxing people forward and helping where he could, leaving Winstin to both lead the band of elderly and sick and constantly herd the stragglers forward through difficult terrain. Talbert, meanwhile, had adopted a quiet tone that Winstin couldn't identify as hope or a grim acceptance of the inevitable.

After a few hours of walking, Mogisor came forward and pleaded with Winstin to let the troop rest. “We must rest, these people are old and sick. They cannot be expected to keep up this pace!”, Mogisor pleaded.

Winstin stiffened and flexed his fingers into fists, but knew there was no way to argue his position. “We'll rest.” He said with a touch of growl “But we HAVE to keep moving shortly.”

Mogisor moved quickly to apply what medicine and prayer he had while Winstin scouted ahead and Talbert searched behind them. When Winstin returned, he had a desperate plan in mind.

“We make for the river and follow it. The terrain is flat and we can move without worrying about anyone falling into a hole in the dark.”

Mogisor wanted to object, the open terrain would mean open views for the enemy, but he had to admit that Winstin was right. If they hoped to keep moving through the night, having an elderly person break a hip in a rabbit hole wouldn't help their plight.

For the next few hours Winstin led them on a desperate race to the river. When they reached the bank they took another break. Winstin looked upriver at the sillhouets of watchtowers. They could never sneak past, he was going to have to do something drastic.

For the guard in the Tohri watchtower it had been a tedious assignment, one he suspected had been given as punishment for ill-timed remarks at a war council. Peering out in the darkness he was hardly surprised that there were no boats on the river. There hadn't been a boat in months and the watchtower had lapsed into a sullen routine of lighting the beacon and playing tihan, a card and dice game with somewhat fluid rules. Applying more attention to the other guards argument about the last bet below him than to his post, he was oblivious to Winstin's approach.

Winstin cursed using so much of his blasting clay, but there was no other option. If he took all he had left and divided it by the number of watchtowers he suspected stood between him and the lake, there would not be enough to destroy each tower. He did not think he'd have too many opportunities, though, so it made sense to make sure to take advantage of this one. Of course he had no idea what would happen if you used so much at once, nor did he know if the other towers would make of the explosion. Holding a ball the size of his fist in his hands, Winstin had to marvel at the size of it. So much clay at once was frightening, and squishing it into the crack of the wood of the watchtower he could almost hear his old Claymaster faint away at the sight of it.

The explosion, even from a five minute walk away, was incredible. There was a bright flash and then a brief pause before the world around them erupted in light and thunder. The refugees waited, then all peeked up and took their hands off their ears in awe of the wave of sound rushing away in the distance. Winstin felt a rush and tingling at so much power, then surveyed the remains of the watchtower. One lonely pole, black and sharpened to a point by the shearing blast was all that remained.

“By all the hells...” Talbert whispered in awe.

“We'd best keep going.” Winstin said, grabbing his pack. “That's sure to grab someone's attention”

The Tohri guard coming to investigate the explosion and loss of contact with Guardtower 8 seemed to think Winstin and his band of refugees were some sort of apparition. He simply stopped and stared until Winstin drew his sword and gave chase. The guard didn't make it far, but Winstin was not reassured.

The guards in the next watchtower were anxiously awaiting the return of their runner. When they spotted the torch-bearing figure, excited chatter broke out and they started shouting questions at him. Against regulation, the lower guards threw open the doors, only to find Talbert in the runner's cloak. He made short and brutal work of the first guard, then body tackled the second into the ladder. The last guard, rapidly decending the ladder to hear the news, encountered Winstin climbing up the ladder at him. He barely reacted when Winstin grabbed his leg and yanked him free of the ladder. The guard fell with a gruesome crunch onto the top of the lower guardhouse, groaned once and was silent. Winstin dropped to the floor of the guardhouse and he and Talbert rushed back out into the darkness.

Arasen dropped back from the swordplay and stumbled to his knees. Smoke and dust filled the air, causing him to choke and cough as he gasped. Vallen and Tegg fought madly to keep the animals at bay, while Jenk had fallen back after losing his sword in the scuffle. All of them were now crisscrossed with scratches and open wounds from the beasts' sharp claws. Dar stood to his left, unleashing another wave of heat and flames to hold back the creatures on their flank. Some twenty creatures had followed them to the road and half that still stood against them. The beasts tended to attack in waves, attempting to encircle and overwhelm them. For a while they had simply backed down the road, Dar and Arasen blasting them with magic while Ren, Jenk, Vallen and Tegg battled with the charge of packs of the monsters.

Once in a while the creatures would retreat into the grassland to regroup. Each time they would launch a new wave, rising out of the grass from different points to try and divide the group. Cathnoma would warn them, however, giving the group time to form up a defensive wedge.

This time when the remaning monsters backed off into the grass, Tegg assembled everyone. “We have to run for the bridge.”

Jenk and Ren both groaned, but said nothing. Vallen finally spoke. “There's no other way?”

Tegg shook his head. “We can't follow Winstin, they'll get past us in the grass. If they follow us to the bridge we can draw them further from him.”

“And when we get there?”, Dar asked. Tegg shrugged and sheathed his sword. Ren and Arasen exchanged exhausted glances, and Dar nodded. “Maybe I can do something to slow them down”, Dar said, looking into the grassland to the east..

Jenk and Tegg studied the grassland for a moment. “They follow us into the grass...” Jenk started.

“Its pretty wet, Dar... Do you really think..?” Tegg asked.

“It will burn. Worry about staying ahead of it”, Dar answered quietly, rubbing her arms.

The rest of the group hesitated for a moment, then checked their equipment and started southeast into the grass.

Sunrise found the refugees taking an extended break in the woods just north of the river. They had barely managed a day's travel from the road, and clearly had nearly a week to go and several memebers of the group were on their last legs. Greven, a sick fisherman with a doting wife had started coughing up blood during the night, prompting Mogisor and Winstin to stop for a long rest. His condition improved a bit, but Mogisor seemed less and less enthused after each attempt at healing him. To make matters worse, what few provisions they had were rapidly being exhausted. Rationing was nearly impossible with sick and frightened people, and Winstin simply did not have time to try to track food consumption.

Winstin called for everyone to gear up, and Mogisor came to speak to him.

“I don't believe Greven is going to make it to Tivar”, he said quietly. “I'm keeping him alive, but the travel is too much.”

“If we stop, they'll find us. Or we'll run out of food. Or some hungry trog will eat us. Or a hundred other things.” Winstin said, frustrated..

Mogisor nodded. “I know”

Talbert glanced at the disheveled group scattered around the tiny cookfires. “Is there nothing you can do, Praelate? Some magic you can pull forth?”

Mogisor detected some desperate note to Talbert's tone, and hung his head a bit. “No. I wish there was. I will seek something tonight.”

Winstin stopped that night just out of sight of the next tower. The hike had been easy enough but progress had been slow and labored. Several short breaks had allowed most of the group to recover here and there but Winstin knew he simply could not continue the pace.

Talbert had twice tried to find the old man who had spoken to him in the temple to no avail. He was partly nagged by some indescribable feeling of need, and partly worried that the man had vanished before leaving the church. He made a few final, futile inquiries but none of the refugees seemed to know or remember him. When he returned to his bag and cookfire, however, the man was waiting. Talbert sat down slowly, expecting the man to vanish.

“So, Talbert. You've been looking for me?”

Talbert cocked his head a bit, trying to feel out the man's tone. It seemed amused or cheerful, not something he'd heard from any refugees lately. “I have, I was worried when I couldn't find you after we left the city”

The man smiled softly. “Don't worry yourself over me. I can find my own way home.”

Talbert shifted uncomfortably. “You're not a refugee.”

“Oh, I'm a refugee.. but not from Redcap.” The man replied.

Talbert did not understand the response, but it was the least confusing thing about the man. “Why... What are you?”

“A messenger, of sorts. You may be ready to hear the message soon, but I cannot deliver it yet.”

Talbert shook his head and stumbled for words. “Message? I don't understand.” but the man wasn't paying attention to him anymore. He suddenly seemed very interested in Mogisor, who was walking around the outer edge of the camp. Talbert reached out to tap the man's arm when he suddenly turned back.

The man looked agitated and nervous, a worried frown appeared on his face. “It seems that you are not the only one anxious for answers.” the man whispered. Talbert shook his head and the man looked up. “When you reach Tivar, find Tivar himself. I will meet you there.”

Talbert was confused, but the man did not wait for a response. He stood and walked into the woods before Talbert could react. Talbert considered following, but he was fairly sure that the man wouldn't be there.

Mogisor finished checking on the worst of the refugees and his hopes rapidly faded. Several of the ederly or sick had managed to hold out for the march so far, but facing five or more days of walking would simply kill them. He sat with Greven's wife for a bit, trying to reassure her, but his heart was not in it. Walking a bit away from the haphazard camp site, he found a quiet spot and began to pray.

In his meditation, he found the white-robed man who had visited his dreams before.

“These people”, Mogisor insisted, “they are dying. They can not make it to Tivar. They have come to me for sanctuary and shelter and all I can offer them is a grinding death in the forests.”

The man held his head low and shook it. “She is not listening today. I cannot give you any more than that.”

Mogisor returned to the campsite in a state of shock. There was so much here that he could have fixed once. So much life slipping through his fingers. Looking around at the sick and frail, lives that he had promised to protect his sadness turned to anger and his massive frame shook in frustration. He turned and walked back out of the campsite, tore off his robe and threw it to the ground. He grasped the small necklace of The Lady with a shaking hand. The small white flame on a leather strap had hung from his neck for over thirty years, he had never removed it, never considered taking it off. With a sudden angry jerk he jerked it downward, breaking the leather.

“I renounce you”, he growled. “All that you are is lost to me. All that you once held to me is dust. You hint and you warn and you push but in the end it comes down to this.”

Mogisor turned and looked back at the campsite through the trees. “These, these people come to you with hopes of help and you offer them a miserable death in the wilderness”, he growled, his voice rising. “And I, your last... last priest am left with NOTHING to offer them. A priest with nothing is a priest OF nothing.” Mogisor looked down at the necklace, now imprinted into his hand. In a sad gesture he allowed it so slowly slide free, catching the end of the leather strap and holding it up.

“Wait, Mogisor”, a voice said. Looking to his right, Mogisor saw a ghostly shape of the man from his visions. “You have Her attention”, he said. His voice was low and careful.

“Her attention?”, Mogisor fumed. “I beg for Her attention for all these years, fighting Her fight and seeking Her help and now, NOW she listens? NOW I am deemed worthy of Her attention?” Mogisor stormed up to the vision, thrusting the necklace forward in accusation. His voice cracked with fury, tears rolled down his cheeks and his shoulders shuddered. “And now, in the wilderness, with the tattered remains of my flock DYING all around me, with nothing left, She deems my FINAL ACT as her priest worthy of notice? Wonderful, She can watch as Her last voice to these people is silenced.”

Mogisor turned to throw the necklace, only to find himself face to face with a vision of The Lady herself. She was a glowing white form, faceless and nearly formless, a star inside a glass sculpture of a woman. Mogisor was stunned, floods of emotions wracked him and his anger dissipated slowly in the sadness, love and peace that he felt.

“She has heard your cry for help, Praelate. Will you still renounce her? Will you take her help?” The man asked reverently, walking up beside Mogisor and laying a hand on his shoulder. “She sees now, I think, just how desperate these times are. You have opened her eyes, and although she has but a little power left to give....”

“M'Lady...”, Mogisor choked, filled with conflicting emotions. He hesitated, then started to kneel. Before he could, the vision of The Lady stepped forward and embraced him. Mogisor sobbed once as he felt her encircle him and the world faded into white wind.

Dar had been correct about the grass. The fire had started slowly, but she warned that the flame would move quickly as soon as the flames caught. She had managed to gather a good bit of dry grass from sheltered areas and the middle of heavy stands, and with a small bit of effort it was smoking and sputtering. The group hesitated a moment to watch the first bits of the tall wet grass smoke and steam, but as soon as flecks of orange appeared, they ran for their lives. At first it seemed silly, charging madly through the grass, trying not to trip over the wet clumps and rabbit holes around the hills. Within minutes, however, there was a soft crackling sound behind them, and quick glances back revealed several towers of smoke. The cracking sound became louder, first reminding them of walking on dry leaves then of snapping twigs. When the roar started the few risked glances ended and the party hunched down in an all out sprint.

Sitting atop the bridge gate tower, Orison shifted his cloak to better keep out the chill. Aside from routing some scouting party from Tivar a near quarter season prior, guarding the bridge had been a boring and thankless task. The Tohri invasion had been full of promise of excitement and conquest when he started, but the initial rush had faded quickly into mundane tasks that made him sentimental for the farm life. The guard leader had even reduced tower duty to a single guard, maximizing the force inside ready to meet anyone trying to cross. On his normal watches Orison would doze at the entrance to the tower stairs so the echos of footsteps would wake him. Tonight the rain drove him indoors under the limited cover of the thatched roof. As he tried to find a dry spot in the drizzle, he caught faint wifts of smoke and wondered who was cooking downstairs. Then he heard hurried footsteps on the stairs.

“By the eyes of Juro!” Orison grumbled, climbing to his feet as his friend Yorra burst into the room. “What are you doing waking me...”

“Look!” Yorra yelled, grabbing Orison's arm and dragging him out onto the walkway. In the distance a dull orange glow covered the horizon to the northeast, looking like a dull sunrise. Sparks rose in the distance, rising toward stormclouds cast in an orange hue. The pair gaped in awe and were quickly joined by others from below.

“The grass... the whole grassland is on fire!” someone whispered.

Tegg stumbled through the last wall of grass and onto the roadway at a dead run. His legs throbbed in pain, his chest burned and he struggled to breathe as he threw himself face down next to Vallen in the cool, muddy ruts of the road. Steam rose from his cloak as sweat and rain evaporated in the waves of heat coming from the grassland. He knew Ren and Cath were still somewhere behind him, hopefully already on the road. Jenk had yelled something about abandoning the grassland, struggling to be heard above the roar of the fire and the furnace of wind that rushed past them. Tegg saw Ren turn to get back to the road and had only paused to yell out for Dar and Arasen.

Jenk sat exhausted a bit further down the road than Tegg, letting eddies of heat wash over his face through the chilled night air and rain. He tried to make out anything in the grass, but the glare of the fire and the frenzy of shadows made it look like the entire field was moving. The only things clearly visible were the swirling smoke and sparks. With a grunt, Jenk forced himself to his feet.

Jenk found Tegg lying on his side in the muddy road and squatted down to see if he was injured. “Come on old man, that little run can't have done you in.”, Jenk teased, failing to hide his own haggard breathing.

“You can go hang”, Tegg grumbled, glancing at Vallen and pushing himself to his knees. Tegg chuckled at Jenk's muddy face and shook his head. “Aren't we a gaggle of heroic figures” he joked, reaching to Jenk for a hand up.

Jenk pulled Tegg to his feet and slapped him on the shoulder. “The others?”

Tegg looked north and surveyed the fields. “I'm pretty sure Ren and the dog are out, somewhere up the road. I haven't seen Dar or Arasen in a while.” They both looked at Vallen, who simply shrugged.

Walking north they quickly spotted Ren and Cathnoma walking north beside the roadway. Cath spotted them and started barking happily.

“Dar and Arasen?”, Tegg asked when they reached Ren.

“No luck.” Ren answered. “Cath hasn't found their trail, so they're either further up the road or...”

Tegg nodded at the implied "or" and scanned the road ahead. “We have to find them quickly, there's no telling if any of those ... things survived.”

After ten minutes of walking, Jenk spoke up “We have to move on. They could be behind us, heading toward the bridge. We'll do them no good if we arrive after the bridge guards slaughter them.”

Tegg grumbled, then nodded. Ren looked north for a second, slumped his shoulders and called to Cathnoma. They turned around and started south with the grassfires chasing them.

Mogisor opened his eyes to the sound of a light rain on water. He struggled to sit, and was helped by several refugees who were sitting nearby. They smiled at him before settling around a small campfire. Looking around, Mogisor saw Winstin standing downhill on the edge of what could only be Tivar Lake, peering through the fog. Mogisor did a quick head-count, and was stunned to find everyone had made it.

Mogisor got to his feet, a task that required the assistance of a small tree and a bit of wobbling. His head felt cloudy, although he noted that he felt a wonderful sense of peace. Walking down to the water, he was greeted by nearly every refugee he passed and was surprised when several gave signs of reverence to The Lady. When he reaced Winstin, the young soldier had a look of worry that faded upon seeing the priest.

“Well, old man. You've finally decided to join us at the lake.”, he said smiling at Mogisor.

“Yes.. but how did we get here? How did everyone make it here alive? How did you get ME here?”

Winstin laughed a bit “You. You got us here. You got YOU here. And you healed all those people. You came out of the woods yesterday looking like you had been set on fire, stood in the middle of the camp and boom, here we are.”

Mogisor was stunned, “Just like that? I don't... She must have...”

“You've made quite a few converts, too.”, Winstin interrupted. He turned back to the lake and frowned a bit. “Whatever your Lady meant to them before, you've made Her tenfold that now. You'll need to build a new church somewhere.”

Mogisor nearly wept as the situation revealed itself. He turned to go back up the hill when Winstin suddenly called out. “The boat! Thank your Lady, that old fisherman kept his word.”

Noffitom seemed as happy to see them as Winstin was to see him. As Gaff helped the elderly onto the boat, he noted the missing members of the party.

“Ay, where's the rest of your team? Don't tell me you lost them.”

“Not yet” Winstin said. “They're supposed to follow us here.”

The captain nodded and Gaff walked up. “It'll take two trips to get this lot across. I didn't expect we'd be ferrying grandparents.” Gaff said

“Good” Winstin answered, waving Mogisor over. “Praelate, I'll stay here. Take the worst of them across. It'll give Tegg time to meet us.”

Mogisor nodded and embraced Winstin. “Bless you, Winstin.”

Winstin chuckled “Don't thank me, you did the bulk of it. You can bless Tegg and the rest when we meet you in Tivar.”

With Cathnoma leading the way, Tegg, Vallen, Ren and Jenk jogged south as quickly as they could manage. Ren had lost his bag, and Tegg was seriously considering ditching his given the sodden weight dragging him down. Not long after they had turned south, the sky had opened up in a fresh torrent of rain. It seemed to shift from a moderate drizzle to sheets of rain on a whim, and the trio found themselves forced off the muddy mess on the road and onto the grassy edge in order to make any progress. The tops of the bridge watchtowers had just come into view through the shadows when they finally found Arasen and Dar.

Limping along the edge of the road, Dar was nearly carrying Arasen. He was leaning heavily on her side, clutching his right leg. Tegg and Jenk quickly relieved her of the burden and Ren peeled back the haphazard wrappings.

“Once again you insist on slowing us down” Tegg said as he adjusted Arasen's arm over his shoulder.

“I can't seem to go very far without getting injured.” Arasen joked, wincing as Ren wiped mud out of his injured leg.

“Broken...” Ren said, “and I've got nothing for it. I'll just have to set it later.”

Dar rubbed her shoulders and pushed her hair back, creating a shower of water. “I think he hit a rabbit hole or something. We were fianlly out of the grass when I saw him fall. I've only managed to drag him a few hundred paces.”

Tegg nodded, “Did you spot any more of those creatures?”

Dar shook her head “No, we heard them here and there. I think they either fled from the fire or had to go around.”

Jenk smiled and clapped Dar on the shoulder. “Well, it wasn't much fun, but we're alive and I think Winstin and Talbert have a shot at making the lake.”

Dar smiled and turned to look at the bridge.. “So how do we get across that?”

The party made a temporary camp along the road in order to give Ren an opportuinty to stabilize Arasen's leg. While Vallen helped him Tegg, Jenk and Dar discussed their options.

“Funny, seems like we just encountered this problem”, Jenk mused. “It looks different from this side, though.”

Tegg grunted and continued examining the towers. “Think the fire will give us any help?”

“I'm sure the Tohri aren't all going to be staring north from the watchtowers just because I've set the grass on fire.” Dar said sarcastically. Tegg gave her a sidelong glare, so she adopted an innocent smile and shifted to a more comfortable seat.

“She's right” Jenk said “We might as well have heralds and trumpeters show up to announce us.”

“Maybe that's a good idea”, Ren said, pulling a strip of cloth tight and drawing a groan from Arasen. When everyone looked back incredulously, he continued. “If people show up at the gate, muddy and cloaked, carrying torches with one of their wardogs on a chain, what do they assume?”

Tegg glanced at Jenk, who shrugged. “It just might work. I say we leave Arasen here and try and take the tower.”

Orison and the other guards had grown bored watching the fires slowly advance in the rain and had begun taking turns sitting under the small cover of the watchtower. Spotting the torches was a little surprising, but seeing the dog calmed him. Whoever was stuck on the road at this time of night in the rain was bound to be miserable and tired, although he could neither hear or see them in the downpour. Yorra ran down to open the gate for them, and Orison turned his attention to the shifting fires across the grassland. He was nearly asleep when Vallen arrived to slip a long knife between his ribs.

Mogisor entered the Duke's audience room flanked by two young guards. The Duke sat deep in a chair next to General Kenv, both with a tankard of wine. Mogisor presented a brief bow to both men, who were clearly discussing the implications of the destruction of Port Redcap. “Sir, I am Praelate Mogisor, last of the worshipers of the Lady of the Light”, he said with what dignity he had left.

The Duke smiled sadly and said, “My regrets for... ”. The Duke hesitated for a moment, mouth open and hand circling as he searched for the words.

“There was no way Tivar could have helped, sire.” Mogisor answered, shaking his head. “The attack was too.. overwhelming. Too sudden”

The Duke offered Mogisor some wine, but the priest refused with a smile. Malloy indicated the General and said, “If there is anything the armies of Tivar can do at this point... ”

“I had hoped you might ask. There is one small favor I would ask of you. One that would mean a great deal, not only to me and the few survivors, but perhaps to Tivar as well.”

The Duke looked a bit puzzled, “Really? What?”

“Give me control of the scout troop that rescued me.”

The Duke was taken aback, “What? Why.. and why that troop?”

Mogisor smiled, “I need a troop to carry out my Lady's last orders to her last servant. I need that troop for reasons that I cannot.. do not even know.”

The Duke looked toward General Kenv, who gave an indifferent shrug. “They're your pet group, sire. They are resourceful, but barely trained. They've lived on luck and stones until now. If.. the Praelate requires a small troop.. and I assume provisions?”, to which Mogisor nodded, “then I see no great loss..”

The Duke stroked his chin, then opened his hands, “Then they're yours to command.”, but was interrupted by the General's grunt. “Ah. Or they will be when they get back from...”

“Avendoor”, the General answered.

“I only ask that you share any information... or revelations you may get while tasking them.”

“Done.” Mogisor said with a welling of joy in his chest.