Chapter 14: Crossing Lines

I feel more alive, I feel more awake. I have to control the magic far more now, else I feel like it will just escape me. I sing and hum more than I have in the last few days. Is that because you won't speak? If so, I would gladly drink of your poison to keep you.

Year of Wrath 1232, Season of life D.2 Ghet

   Ghet pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed at this situation. While minor, and he knew it, it set a bad precedent for Ilgor's authority. Knoll crossed his arms, while Hob tapped the butt of a stick he had found into the ground, waiting. Cori was the firebrand of this group, rambling off pointless threats and recriminations. He was already neck deep in this new border duty Ilgor had promised over the radio in his study. The Dwarves had built an antenna and run cables through the caves just for this purpose. 

   "They aren't moving fast with that old man with them." Ghet finally said, his words quieting the angry Cori, just long enough to speak his mind. "I am not worried about these humans coming into the village; I am worried that the General overruled a policy that he had no business breaking. What does that tell the Dwarves? That we can be brushed aside whenever they feel like it?" 

   Ghet rose from the simple desk that he had built with Caleb's assistance. Several dozen pieces of law that he needed to go over with Ilgor, several more that he hoped that she would say no to. Hanging his head, he always wanted to be a teacher, but the offer she had made to them all. He couldn't say no; they all couldn't. She had told them that she needed them, that she felt far too overwhelmed with all that was happening. That she didn't think this would all happen, she just wanted to keep the Family safe.

"Cori, Hob, follow them. Find out why they are here." He waited, hedging his bets here. They were all given equal authority by Ilgor; he was betting that they would obey him, take his orders. He wanted nothing more than to see Ilgor rise, to become the greatest Chief and Priestess the Family had ever seen. But that Necromancer, the Dwarves, now these humans are being given such reverent and preferential treatment. There was far more that they didn't know, and he knew it. Known unknowns, unknown unknowns. Their known knowns were becoming increasingly irrelevant with each passing day. 

   He let out a sigh of relief as Cori stomped out of his study, Knoll seeing exactly what he was doing, while Hob just stared at him. Unblinking, as if examining him in a different light. He blinked, looked away, and got to his feet. Ghet had known Hob for as long as the rest of the Orphans, Ilgor included, and he had watched this angry young man slowly temper his anger. It only dawned on him now that Hob was a bully to Ilgor for years, jealous and envious that she had reached heights before him; now, he was one of Ilgor's most trusted confidants. 

   "Hob," Ghet spoke quietly. He stopped just inside the threshold of the study, ears perked up to listen. "Try and keep her calm, we don't want her flying off the handle." Turning his head, there was a look in his eyes that he didn't quite recognize. Hob nodded before leaving to follow Cori.

   "Quite the move, old man." Knoll finally answered, after a long moment of silence. "We take orders from you now?"

   "No, we all answer to Mother. If you three decide to tell her, I may have to answer for giving orders where not appropriate. But, in her absence," Ghet started. 

   Though Knoll finished his thought. "We had to do something. Cori is a firebrand, and the Family is not happy at this. Ilgor always tells them everything she has given permission for, and lets anyone challenge her on any of her decisions. To be honest, I've never seen a better Chief, the way she calms them down with what she says." 

   "Exactly, I might as well have our two best hunters go and stalk their prey. I just hope that Hob is the one to do the talking." Ghet said, sitting back at his desk. 

   "Agreed." 

Year of Wrath 1232, Season of life D.2 Emily and Atrimir

   "So you are telling me the thing you were just talking to, the thing we couldn't see, is a god? A god we've never heard of, where there is no mention in any text, or scribbling on this world?" Emily said to the quieting chapel around them. 

   "That we know of, Miss Von Eule," Azorez answered flatly. "You of all people should know that all records stop at the Dawn of Truths. The point where all our conventional logic ceases to have any merit." 

   "But, it's such a strange assertion to make." Emily sighed with exasperation. 

   "I know what I know." She responded, "What I want to know is this, and a question that will interest you more. This spirit, this being, this goddess, the one that lingers here in this chapel. The one that has clung to Governor Ilgor is the same one we have seen when we used the stones. It is the same woman." Azorez finally tilted her head up to look at them. Her eyes were like steel, hardened with conviction. 

   Atrimir stretched his legs again, his joints popping echoed off the empty halls of the chapel. "Then why do they follow Bhal? If this entity is a goddess, and one that bears much of the likeness of the goblins, why do they not follow her?"

   "A much better question, instead of decrying what I am certain of." She eyed Emily with an annoyed glance, "Why indeed. From everything I have gathered, a few peculiarities keep showing up." 

   "Like what?" The old Sage asked, tapping Emily on the leg, prompting her to start taking notes. 

   "Well, from the local history, all I can find of the Skullbrood Clan, is their name. Though the locals have always called them goblins, it is not a name they picked for themselves. They call themselves the Family. An interesting point if you ask me," Azorez said, leaning down to correct Talia's circle, erasing one of the lines and replacing it with the proper one.

   "Family, the same thing you must think about for the stones to be used," Atrimir noted. Emily scribbled away on the paper. 

   "Exactly, it wasn't something that I overlooked. Especially after the, well, admittedly one-sided, conversation I had with her."

   "Hob," His ears twitched at the sound of his name, eyes darting around to find its source. Cori had her eyes fixed on the humans, their voices carrying much further in the evacuated Chapel. He and she had gone to each of the Family inside the chapel and told them to leave, hoping to avoid a confrontation if one indeed happened, it was best if they weren't here. Still, his eyes scanned not seeing anything, until he noticed the eyes staring at him from behind one of the columns. 

   "Hob," It said again, fixing his eyes on the darkness around it, letting his eyes adjust. Goosebumps ran down his arms as a chill ran down his spine. A woman, only looking like she had come out of a fresh grave. "Let them speak, Hob."

   Something clicked in his mind. Ilgor always talked about some corpse woman following her around, speaking to her in her sleep. She even said she had appeared on the battlefield of the Skirmish. Now, here, he knew she wasn't insane. "Let them speak, Hob. Do not let Cori interrupt, yet." The corpse woman was in front of him before he could blink, wrapping that cold tail around his waist. Slipping her arms around him. "My son, you make me proud to see how you have grown." 

   Then she was gone, like smoke on the wind. His eyes were wide, speechless. Illy wasn't insane. It rang through his head like a church bell. She was telling the truth about what had happened during her ceremony. He suddenly felt bad about ever doubting her about that; he had always assumed she was stressed and seeing things. The Ceremony was traumatic enough for everyone. Then the fighting with Yorm, her secret command of his raiders, the journeys into the city, Kari. It would be too much for most of the Family. Then he remembered Illy telling him she trusted this corpse, for some reason. 

   He caught Cori by the arm just as she lifted her foot to make herself known to the humans. She whipped her head at him, "No, isn't the time to play grab ass, Hob." She hissed. 

   "I might take you up on that," She cocked her head at him, a certain fire sparking there, "Don't interrupt them yet, I want to hear what they are talking about. They might know a few things we don't." He said, pulling her behind the same column he was. 

   "Do you really want to play grab ass?" She said, crossing her arms as she flared her ears open to hear better. 

   "Now it's my turn to say, now isn't the time." He said, turning to her. 

   "I'm going to keep you to that," Cori said, looking him up and down. 

   "What has gotten into you?" Hob laughed. 

   "Have you found anything else on their history? In Huron, they are a legend, granted a well-founded one, but we don't have much information on them." Emily asked as her pen scribbled away. 

   "That is the most interesting part; there is nothing. They have been a local plague on the roads for as long as anyone can remember. Their grandfathers knew them, their grandfathers' grandfathers knew them, and they have been here since before the founding of Glaion. Yet, there is nothing about them, no history, no military excursions, no comingling, no nothing." Azorez said flatly, hesitating as she finished her piece.

   "What do you mean, nothing?" Atrimir said, pausing in his pipe as a wisp of smoke drifted above them. 

   "They do not have any history written about them from the other races; beyond that, they exist. As if something has been very meticulous in keeping information about them suppressed." Azorez leaned back into the bench, resting her hands in her lap as Talia made the rune she was working glow dully. "I have made more than my fair share of inquiries of the Galacian records. Lucas's own private library is the only place I have yet been given access to. As much as he is a learned man, I suspect the local histories he keeps will also fail to mention the Family in any depth." 

   "That," Emily halted her writing, her chin in her palm, "Is odd, and extraordinarily suspicious." 

   "Regardless, I have been penning what I know of the Family since the day I arrived here. They are a fascinating people, a people dedicated to song and glory, to the skies and the wind. Their faith is what interests me the most." Some wonder slipped into her usual way of speaking, a wistful daydream way of speech.  

   "Well, don't keep us in the dark then, Grave Bell." The sound of Atrimir's voice rang with that power. Though the Necromancer noticed and seemed to be immune to it at this point. "My apologies, a new ability from using a stone recently."

   "Yet an ability that all the Family possesses. Yet another reason for me to believe this unknown god is tied to both the stones and the Family. I do not mean that I am interested in any part of the Cult of Bhal; much of what they speak of about Bhal is very typical of the Cult. However, Illy has taken a different approach that I have not heard of since the rise of the Romachian Caliphate."

   "Now that is a strange stance to take. I believe we fought a war to fight that ideology." Emily now had a frown on her face. 

   "No, you misunderstand. The Romach based their entire faith in Bhal around pursuing ambition to further their strength to earn glory for Bhal. Illy views the faith as ambition itself. Why would their god demand that ambition be followed if it wasn't for earning the glory of self-actualization? It is a very touching stance to take for their people, a stance that the vast majority of the Family has accepted. She pursues," She paused just long enough to emphasize her point, "Her ambition, through all their ambitions, through that, they will earn glory for Bhal."

"The way she talks when giving sermons to them. It almost makes you believe that Bhal isn't evil. Almost. If they can rise to greater heights in life, they will become everything their Great Father wishes them to be. At least according to Illy." Azorez finished, looking back at the two Sages. 

   "Moving as that is, you don't strike me as the religious type, especially after having spoken to many of the gods." Atrimir pointed at the Necromancer with his pipe. 

   "True, their faith in Bhal doesn't interest me to a great degree, as I've said. However, the amount of contradictory aspects of their faith interests me the most. As well as their ability to speak with their dead." Azorez's voice was finally filled with reverence, a tone they'd never have thought to hear from her. 

   "They can use necromancy? All of them?" Emily asked.

   "No, it isn't a necromancy that I recognize. I'm doubtful that it truly is. However, Illy has promised to show me the ritual involved. But, the way they describe it, it is less of a pull from the dead and more like speaking from a wall of water. If that makes any sense. It isn't a canyon you are speaking across with no bridge; it seems to me like they can just reach across that plane and hold them once more." The Necromancer stared off into one of the dark corners of the quiet halls, and the Sages followed her eyes and saw nothing. 

"They hold so much more potential, all of the Family. Illy had only taught them control; she broke her oath to the Sisterhood to teach them the magic she knew. Have you noticed how quiet it is in here?" She mentioned it as if she were fully aware of it. Yet, now that the Sages thought about it, it was quiet. No more soft prayers in the distance, no quiet hymns to the fallen. 

"They can do that, they don't realize they do it. As if they are the source of the sound in this world, and that is only with Illy teaching them such a basic lesson. I wonder if they have a Domain like her." She finished as she rose from the bench. 

   "You think they all have that level of power?" Atrimir's question opened more doors than it closed. 

   But, Azorez had a different train to catch as her thoughts wandered, pacing behind Talia, who paid her no mind as she made her rune glow again. "I don't think, I know it. Do you know of anything else that can access tonal aspects of magic like that? Besides, this spirit. She speaks in strange ways. You need only to listen." 

   "You are going to have to explain that in a way that makes sense." The old man took another puff of his pipe as his words drifted through the silent halls.

   "She won't speak, it isn't that she can't. Ilgor mentioned on multiple occasions that they've had actual conversations before, but recently, she doesn't do that much. She speaks through the world in a way that I have never experienced before." She turned away from them, quickly walking over to the dark corner she stared at before. 

Kneeling down and reaching a hand out to nothing. Emily's keen eyes watched as something compressed the skin on her hand, eyes going wide. There was something there. "Will you speak for them? Will you prove to them that you are here?" Atrimir paused in his pipe as the cloth around Azorez's waist moved, as if something was wrapping around her. 

   Azorez cocked her head as a quiet rush of wind ran through the chapel. A low hum that rang out oddly. "Nooooooooh", the Sages looked about as they too felt that the wind wasn't quite natural, sounding too odd to be a coincidence. "Azorez," Emily tried, but the Necromancer only held up a finger. 

   "Listen." She said again. "Why won't you show yourself to them?" 

The wind howled louder, an angrier tone to it now. "Noooooh." Emily thought for a moment, Azorez said she spoke through the world. "No." 

   "Azorez, did the entity just say, no, though the wind?" Emily asked, rising from her seat to walk over to the same dark corner. She bathed the corner in light, casting nearly every detection spell she could think of. The Necromancer's bones were even visible to her. The cloth around her waist fell back to its normal position as her hand moved as if something had taken its weight off it. 

   "That was rude." She said flatly, turning an accusatory look up at Emily. "She's gone." 

   "How come I couldn't detect anything?" The Sage demanded. 

   With a long suffering sigh, she muttered under her breath as she rose again. "No respect for the sacred." She lit a candle in the alcove that washed the dark corner in a warm, welcoming light. "She didn't want you to see her. She isn't a ghost, as I've said. She's like a memory, an echo. She is like something trying to rise to the surface, like seeing a shadow on the wall where nothing is. She isn't a corporeal being, but she influences the world. She isn't ethereal, but is not spiritual in the way that the dead are."

   "There are far too many contradictions in that." Emily crossed her arms as she stared at Azorez. 

   "What would describe as the sublime? What would you call something older than the gods you know? What would you call something that is far larger than what you see, than you can even comprehend? What would you call faith? Would you call it something as banal as contradictory?" That rare heat in her voice rose to the surface again. 

Walking past her, she scooped up Talia in her arms. Despite being what they assumed to be nine, she still cradled the child in her arms. Asking her adoptive daughter a few questions that were decidedly pointed at the Sages. "What is a god?"

   "A being that ceases to have limited meaning," Talia said up to her mother. 

   "What is a spirit?" She asked. 

   "An entity that lingers in this world," Talia responded. Though that response got a different reaction out of the Sages, who had always operated under the assumption that the Necromancer viewed all spirits as the souls of people who hadn't moved on. Talia's response would imply that wasn't entirely the case. 

   "What is the connection between the two, Darling?" Azorez asked sweetly.

   "It isn't. A god and spirit can be one and the same, Mama. You always said that those things that call themselves gods only claim to do so because they are more powerful than the fading souls of the dead. But, you also told me that the gods are as corporeal as they are ethereal, the Id and the odd, the push and pull, the veil between life and death." Talia answered dutifully. 

   "Very good, Darling!" She said, setting her daughter back on the ground, tousling her hair. "One final question: are the dead truly dead?"

   Talia looked up at her mother, running her fingers through her hair to undo the mess. She thought for a long moment while the Sages waited patiently as the little student pondered. "No, their bodies may rot and turn to dust. But something lingers. An ember of a greater fire they had in life. A spark that catches fire in a different plane, the dead only wait. Their light may be faint, but as the world darkens in death, their light only grows brighter."

"It only looks dim to us because we are the brighter light drowning them out. The dead are never truly gone." The little girl finished. 

   "Wonderful! Spoken like my master before me! Now, Talia, please show them the spell you were working on today." Azorez said as the Ghost of her long departed twin sister made her presence known, holding that lantern in her hands. 

   "What are you doing, what are you trying to prove here, Azorez?" Atrimir asked curiously. His pipe had gone out, being forgotten in his grip during the conversation. 

   "Hush, you will see." As Azorez picked up her own staff, the tap it made in the sand was far more poignant than it had any right to be. "Ghost, please do not hide. You have no need to fear me," Talia set her small hands on the circle she had been working on. Humming softly to herself, it glowed brightly. 

   Her own voice joined in her mother's, a chorus under hers. "Oh, joyful souls, long do you wish to see the world again. Please open your eyes and see again." Like constellations winking into life around them, every last one of the columns in the chapel began to wink alive in lightly purple sparks. The closer the Sages watched, the more they realized all the names written on the stones were the sources of the lights. At that same moment, they realized the runes carved into each one of the stones that built the holy site were gravestones. 

   The area was bathed in a soft glow, though the first thing both Emily and Atrimir noticed as this was the first time they witnessed true Necromancy, as inside their chests glowed an incredibly bright light. A series of innumerable tiny threads connecting their limbs, their organs, to small constellations of power around them, representing the spells they had prepared on themselves at all times. 

   As their eyes drifted around them, they noticed the exact same thing happening inside the stones that made up the chapel. The longer they looked, the more they saw. They all tied themselves back to a single point a few feet in front of Azorez. The small corpse that stood there had her head down, looking at the threads expanding themselves out in all directions; the light in her chest was something else entirely. 

   Like a small sun, their own lights looked like dim candle flames in comparison. She looked emaciated, like she had crawled out of a grave somewhere. A small flower budding out from her hair, her ears longer and wider than the goblins. Her tail flicked out from behind her, splitting into three distinctly separate entities. Her eyes met with the Necromancer's, as the Sages' mouths dropped open, finally seeing what Azorez had been speaking to. 

   The little woman's mouth opened, and she spoke. Her voice was like liquid gold, as if hearing music for the first time in their lives. "You shouldn't have done that. Break the spell at once, I am the last thing you want noticed here."

A flash of fear ran over Azorez's face. Placing a foot over Talia's rune, she broke the circle. At once, the world dimmed around them as the light show they were privy to suddenly vanished. Though as the lights faded, the corpse remained, turning her eyes toward the Sages. "You Fae-borne children were always too curious for your own good." She said cryptically as she too vanished like smoke on the wind. 

   "What in all the gods and heavens broken branches was that!" Emily practically yelled her question, still touching the spot over her heart where that bright light had been. 

   "We could ask the same question." A new voice to the group had sounded behind them. The group turned to see two goblins walking toward them, one of them already with a hand on her pistol, which may as well have been a rifle in her hands. 

   The other, a male by the sound of his voice, held out a hand to stay his companion. "Oh, Hob, I wasn't expecting you to be here. Good evening, Cori." Azorez said in her flat, mundane way once more. Though those two names registered immediately in both the Sages' minds. Atrimir nodded with some respect toward the two, while Emily, who was already on her feet, gave them a proper bow. 

   "Quite the conversation you were having there," Hob said, making it more than obvious that they had been listening for quite some time. His hands were away from his weapon, not even motioning that it was on his hip, apparently not feeling the need, unlike his companion. "We want to know a few things from you all." 

   "Of course, what would you like to know?" Emily offered pleasantly. 

   "In a moment," He said, directing his words toward her, before setting his eyes on Azorez. "You have had an extreme fixation on Ilgor this entire time, and I don't mean during this conversation." If Azorez was uncomfortable, she wasn't showing it.

   Cori spoke next, a bit more fire in her voice than Hob. "You have stuck by her side this entire time, at first we believed that you were here to help, as you said. We believed that you latched firmly on Illy because of her position in the Family, but this conversation." 

   "Has raised far more questions, Necromancer." Hob finished for her. "Why are they here? What are your real intentions for being here? Why did you force Illy's phantom to appear like that?"

   He finished his questions by crossing his arms, as Cori circled behind the columns to appear behind their group. "There has been some misunderstanding," Azorez began, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "My interest in Ilgor is, as I assume you heard, is entirely about learning about your people's faith. How you are able to use the power you can, how this spirit seems connected to your people far more intimately than your chosen god." 

Hob gestured with his hand for her to continue, the Sages immediately remembering General Knoll stalking them without ever alerting the Sages to his presence. They did not doubt that Hob was capable of far more than he appeared, despite his much smaller stature. "These are trusted individuals in the world, their names are," 

   Cori cut her off, "Atrimir and Emily, we figured that out already." 

   "Cori." Hob warned, "Can we try to be more polite?" He told her. 

   She shot daggers at him, a look that just screamed, "You're one to talk." 

   Hob walked closer to the group. As he neared, the Sages noted the evident similarities between the corpse and him. Besides Knoll, he was the second member of the Family that they had a chance to see up close. "Why are they here?" He asked rather pointedly at Azorez. "Your conversation made it seem like they shared a similar purpose, but needed quite the convincing show of magic to do so." 

   Azorez stepped a pace back from him, though he saw he was making her nervous, he didn't advance on her. While Cori, however, paced like a wolf watching a cornered deer. Atrimir spoke up, trying to use his voice to calm them down. "We are the Sages of Huron, we simply seek knowledge for the sake of knowledge." 

   "If you are going to try and copy our voice like that, can you do a little better?" Cori said, letting her voice be felt in full, all their attentions snapping to the sound like a magnet to iron. "We do not know what a Sage is, or why this bird matters." 

   It dawned on them, finally, that they should have simply waited at the gate like General Knoll had strongly suggested. These people did not care how the rest of the world treated them; they were still on the edge from their Skirmish with Galus, and incredibly distrustful of humans. The reaction Hob was giving Azorez was evident enough. The letter she had written for the Sages mentioned that she was helping them recover spiritually and emotionally from that bloody encounter; however, it seemed that trust was thin. 

   A cold sweat broke out across Emily's brow, now understanding that they had just dug themselves into quite the hole. Their, well, to them, side objective to have the goblins negotiate with them over some type of settlement between Galus and them was now tarnished by a quite serious stain. Hob's eyes fixed on her, noting her reaction. 

   He took a deep breath, uncrossing his arms. "Well, in any case, Huron is a close ally of Galus. I'm sure our Dwarven Patrons will be overjoyed to hear that a few interlopers bypassed our own sovereignty to poke about in their business." Emily noted that Hob was clearly the more level-headed of the two here, and apparently more aware of the situation than she would have liked to admit. A situation that could certainly be turned against them in future political matters.

   "Why shouldn't I arrest them, then?" Cori asked darkly.

   "Now, wait a minute, Hob," Azorez said as her Ghost bobbed above her head. "I asked them to come here; I assumed they had gained permission to enter. That is my fault for not verifying that. I apologize for the transgression; they are not here with any ill will involved." 

Some of the fire had gone out in Hob's eyes; he looked at Cori behind their group. Sharing a look, they backed off, at the very least respecting the amount of help she had given to Ilgor in tending to their dead, and the chance to say their goodbyes to the fallen. Azorez looked markedly more relaxed as she continued, "Please, let them speak for themselves." 

   Atrimir kept silent as he felt some amount of shame at being accused of trying to copy their voice when that wasn't his intention. He knew enough just by experiencing what Cori had done to know that it insulted, at least, her. "Our names are Atrimir Schafer," She held out a hand, indicating the old man. 

"I am Emily Von Eule. We are the Sages of Huron. A Sage, at least in our culture, as well as the Dwarven and human cultures, is a member of society who has earned their rank through no small amount of dedication. We both live to serve the people of Huron and beyond, to the best of our abilities. We seek out knowledge wherever it may be sequestered, and give it freely to the world. In turn, the world allows us access to that information just as freely." 

She continued as she placed her hands behind her back, where Cori could watch them as she addressed Hob. "I apologize for not immediately recognizing that we are not welcome here. It was far too presumptuous of us to assume that your people would share the same cultural formalities as we humans."

Hob relaxed somewhat at her explanation, though his strong presence still made them nervous. Especially as Cori continued to pace, as if he were holding the leash of some dangerous dog. Perhaps an uncharitable description, though the Sages felt it so. "Our interest in Governor Ilgor lies in the stones she used during the Skirmish. We have been studying them for decades; having living survivors who have used them is rare, incredibly so." 

She paused for a moment, expecting Hob or Cori to ask a question, but they simply stared at her. Hesitantly, she continued. "The spirit that appeared on the battlefield that day matches the description and our own experiences using the stones. When Azorez sent us a letter saying there was a spirit tied to the Governor, and explaining the situation, we saw it fit to come and speak with Ilgor in person." 

   Hob was quiet for a long moment before asking, "Huron is on the eastern front, is that correct?" 

   Emily was confused by this complete sidetrack of the conversation, but answered anyway. "Yes, it is. It is the literal border between the Caliphate and the Federation." Thinking she might calm the situation by offering her knowledge to them, "Did you have a question in mind?" 

   "What is the political climate like in the east? We have heard precious little save for what Ilgor has told us, and what our Rhojic company had informed us of." Hob asked as Cori reappeared by his side, her pacing having stopped. The two shared a look as if they were having some kind of silent conversation. 

   Emily was confused by this line of questioning; she was sure they would have more questions about their purpose of being here, their objectives, or anything else, really. "The Caliphate is mounting an offensive on the walls of Huron to the south of the city. Though everything indicates that they are going to take the Lamia Outpost before launching a true assault on the Federation." 

"Our informants tell us that their production is ramping up, as several dozen keels for new warships have been laid down. Their factories in the Archipelago have been running full steam ahead with the production of weapons and vehicles. They have also enforced conscription inside their desert nation." She waited to see if they were going to want more. 

   Hob raised his eyebrows as if to ask, "That's all?" 

   "I'll give you an olive branch. King Berthelot and King Aventus are not currently seeing eye to eye. They had differing opinions on the actions of Galus." Trying to keep their purpose vague enough not to be implicated. "Our King has sought the aid of Lucas as well as the Gnomes and Dwarves. Lucas's efforts have been fairly lackluster in comparison to the other nations."

   "Your King, you say it with such loyalty," Hob said, having picked that up with far too much ease. "So, I think it is safe to assume that while Azorez may have invited you here despite knowing the prohibition on foreign parties being allowed to enter without Ilgor's authorization, that you are also here on your King's orders."

Emily's eyes widened, "The way you speak, your uniforms are similar enough to the Huronian Marshals', you have one star as opposed to their two. The way you just give us a personal interaction between two Kings tells me you are very high ranking in their military. So I believe it is also safe to assume that you are here under the orders of your King as well." He turned his back to them, "You are leaving too much out. You will be led back to the gates to wait for Ilgor to return. Azorez, you may continue to be welcomed here, but please do not invite anyone else to the Village without speaking to us first."

   The way he was able to figure that all out so quickly even earned an impressed, and decidedly inappropriate look from Cori. He spoke with the confidence of a master spy and the authority of a General to his men. Though they were happy, they were only being forced out of Vhedinstal, instead of being arrested. Azorez had a relieved look on her face as she sat back down, speaking quietly to Talia about what had just happened. 

   "You two, come," Hob said, though a second look at the old made him pause. The Sages watched his lips move, but no sound came out. "My apologies, Sage Atrimir, you came here in a wheelchair. One moment, we will have a few Soldiers come and assist you." 

   A few moments later, four goblin soldiers appeared with a stretcher, setting it down in front of the old man, he lied in it. "This is humiliating." He grumbled as more than a few choice comments left his lips. 

   "Oh, relax, this isn't the first time, and it won't be the last time," Emily said cheerfully. Though their walk was far quicker than they would have expected. Despite having much shorter legs than Emily, they moved with far more grace than her, almost as if they floated over the ground rather than walked. 

   She had to jog to keep up with them, as Cori hounded the group from behind. Hob leading from the front, he never looked back at them. Confident that they wouldn't try anything if they were to keep their word about why they were here. They passed Knoll and General Khazet, having a heated conversation, though they passed by quickly enough that they couldn't make out any of the conversation. 

   Someone had already brought Atrimir's wheelchair up to the gate, a Dwarven craftsman fitting much wider wheels to the thing. Something more fitting to the unfinished roads and sand on the beach, apparently, the Dwarves believed that the Sages would be, eventually, welcomed by Ilgor. Emily was brought a chair, as the Dwarves offered to let them stay in their camp for the night just outside the walls. An offer they gladly accepted, as all the Dwarven guards were replaced with Goblin soldiers at the gate. 

They had certainly made a political mess they would need to clean up later, it would seem.

***

   Hob left Ghet's study after reporting back to him everything they had heard. Leaving out most of Cori's commentary to keep her safe from some backlash by Ilgor. Cori was a hothead these days; she used to be far calmer. Hob ran a hand through his hair and down his braid. 

   Cori was waiting just outside her room, the fresh scent of cedar filling the hallway. Her room was finished in its construction more recently; the Dwarves saw fit to build the framework in the caves for the Family, the only finished rooms right now were for "Statesmen," as they put it. Ostensibly, meaning for Ilgor and Ghet, as they became the centers of their government. Cori pulled him into her room before he could even think about anything else.