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15thday of Ignis

128thI.E.

The House of Commons in Sanctuary was a large meeting hall where the leaders of the grand city-state would gather to discuss matters of importance. It's stone walls stuck up from the middle of the city and towered over every other structure. The spires on each corner stretched up above everything else in the city, and each housed a bellfry. It was here where the leader of Sanctuary lived, and where his subjects came to petition him.

King Rance Edward the Third, a man of half-elven blood, presided over the House of Commons from atop his throne. He carried the same kind of girth that came with the life of luxury that often accompanied those in a position of power. Despite that, he was an intimidating man. He sat perfectly straight, with an unsheathed claymore planted at his feet and his hands resting on the pommel. His thick, bushy mustache curled down around his lips and helped to conceal his expression, making him look all the more imposing.

The walls of the room were lined with thick marble pillars. A crimson rug was laid out from the foot of the throne and extended down his dais and all the way out of the room, at the far end of the hall. Guards were posted on either side of the throne, and a number of nobles, from the Quartermaster to the Master at Arms, were also in attendance.

At the center of the hall, they had set up an intricately carved, square table that was adorned with golden filigree along the legs and edges. Each side faced the cardinal directions, and the commanders from each of the four nations of the Freedom Coalition sat on their respective sides. Normally, ambassadors or lords from other countries would be sitting at the table. Olaraa's senate was missing, and Rogust had no ambassadors in the city at the time. The elves' commander also acted as a diplomat in Kitair's stead, while the minotaur had no such hierarchy and left their top military mind to act in their nation's best interests.

The room was packed to the brim with people, save for around the table. Guards stood near the crowds to keep control and maintain silence as Sanctuary began planning its defense.

"Well, well. Big surprise," Digran said, stroking the underside of his cleft chin. In his other hand was a report regarding the current situation. "Seems I was right all along, war is headed for Sanctuary."

Dane sat next to him, grinding his teeth in frustration as Digran spoke, embarrassed by his commander's behaviour. Everyone in the room knew that he was lying and trying to save face in front of the fact that he'd shot down and denied all evidence that Sanctuary would be attacked.

Commander Gryph was on a chair on the south side of the table, casting a baleful gaze at Digran. He was dressed in the gray fatigues that were standard issue for the Olaraan military, but he wore a regal, golden cloak as a sign of his station, and it matched the color of his beard and balding head. Dane thought he looked every bit more reserved and respectable than Digran ever had in his entire life. "We've known about this for weeks now, an' this be th' first time I've heard ye say ye agree with us on th' matter." The dwarf kept his arms folded in front of him, but Dane could see that his fists were trembling with fury. "We've tried t' tell ye what's happenin' but yer so ignorant that ye would nae listen!"

Across from the humans sat Yalthros Leafsblade and his officers. The elven commander looked strikingly like one of Dane's professors from the R.A.A.S., a fact that unsettled him a little. It was almost as if he saw his former teacher dressed in military attire with his usual fey-like demeanor gone. He wore the green and brown colors of Kitair. His white hair was tucked behind his pointed ears and flowed straight down to the small of his back.

To Dane's left, on the north side of the table, was the minotaur commander, Naus Roughorn. His great nostrils flared and he huffed noisily, jostling the ring that pierced his nose. Even the white furred bull had been working alongside Gryph and Yalthros in preparing Sanctuary's defenses. Roughorn surprised Dane with his patience, as he was used to minotaur being short tempered.

Digran whirled around to scowl at the dwarven commander. His flabby jowls jiggled as he moved his head about, like an over-grown turkey. "Are you really going to waste time pointing fingers at others? Are you people so petty you need to question everyone who isn't as special as you lot?"

Dane rolled his eyes, then turned back towards the center of the table. He looked over and realized that Yalthros was watching him. Dane's face quickly flushed with embarrassment, and he looked down at his hands. In response, the elf gave a quick, knowing wink.

"Listen here, human," Naus said, "You've turned down every single meeting we've called here and forbidden your own officers from attending. We're at war, and we need to prepare!" He stabbed a thick, calloused finger accusingly in his direction. "If you were to let go of your foolish, misplaced bigotry we could actually get somewhere!"

"Do you think I'd waste my time in meetings talking about matters when I could be preparing my forces?" Digran roared, his ferocity matching that of the minotaur's despite the size difference between the two of them. Naus looked like he could rip the man in half with only one hand despite how corpulent Digran was, and Dane wondered how the man could be so bold in front of someone so obviously powerful.

"Gentlemen, please!" pleaded Sir Edward, "Can we not keep this civil? We have more important things to deal with than petty grudges."

Digran scoffed and crossed his chubby arms in front of him. "I don't see why the hell I should care, it's not my ass on the line. Sanctuary isn't my country."

An explosion of noise sounded from the gathered crowds, and they ignored King Edward's calls for order. A few fights broke out between some merchants from Rogust and the elves sitting next to them. Things were threatening to reach a boiling point if someone didn't do something.

"Guards, have these people removed from my court!" Edward shouted, rising and pointing with his sword. "There's no longer a need for the local guilds to be involved. Everyone, out!"

As the shouting intensified and people began to turn on each other, the guards drew their swords and advanced. The show of force quelled many people, but the few still arguing were struck with the pommel their weapons and dragged off.

Slowly, order began to return to the House as silence fell.

Clearing his throat, Yalthros spoke evenly to Digran. "Be that as it may, Commander, your country does benefit from trade agreements and tariffs from imports. Rogust would be hurt by anything that impacts Sanctuary." The elf was smirking at him, though it wasn't clear to Dane whether it was out of smugness or mischeviousness. Probably both, he reasoned.

"Rogust can fend for itself," Digran said, crossing his arms. "His Majesty hasn't given us any orders to mobilize."

How many more stupid, ill-bred things could he possibly say? Dane thought.

Dane's frustration reached its peak as he surged from his seat and slammed his hands on the table. "Commander, shut up and listen to them for a change!" His voice filled the room and echoed back to him as everyone fell silent.

"Truesho--"

"No, don't you dare 'Trueshot!' me!" Dane yelled loud enough to drown out even Digran who had continued to scream at him while he spoke. "We have a city full of refugees and a massive army bearing down on us and all you care about is derailing these discussions! Is your head so full of lard that you can't get your priorities straight?" He paused for a second, then added, "Or is it perhaps because you're working for the enemy?" The accusation had flown out of Dane's mouth before he'd even realized he'd said it.

Digran's fist lashed out at Dane, but the mage caught it with his bare hands. The rest of the room remained silent and continued to watch the events unfold, unsure whether any of them should step in or not Even still, Dane could hear chairs creak as a few of the guards and retainers shifted to reach for their weapons.

"I hear one more Gods damned word out of your mouth and I'll court martial you so fast you'll feel like you were sodomized by a dragon, do you hear me!?" Digran said. He pulled his fist back, but his shoulders didn't relax.

A tense moment hung between them as they stared each other down, neither willing to back down. Someone cleared their throat, and suddenly Dane was more self-aware than he'd ever been. His face turned red and he backed away from the table, dragged his chair to get as far away from Digran as possible, and plopped himself down once again.

The awkward silence hung for a moment before Yalthros broke it by speaking. "Perhaps it would best if we discussed our current state of affairs instead of Rogust's allegiances?"

Edward nodded. "Agreed. Currently, my officers are working to get all of the Xenarian and Olaraan refugees across the lake to a camp we've set up on one of the larger islands. We're hoping the move will be complete within the next day or two and then we can begin organizing our troops."

"How are me people holdin' up?" Gryph asked, his concern melting away any contempt he was holding in for Digran. "I ain't had time t' get off base t' see 'em."

"Bitter, upset, demoralized," Edward replied. "The ursar are coping with it better, from what I hear, and are taking up efforts to look after the wounded and sick."

"What do we do now?" Yalthros asked and began to steer the conversation towards defense preparations. "Our forces are larger now that the Olaraan military has joined us, and despite their losses we are nearly as strong in numbers as they were during the battle for Olaraa. I've already dispatched for reinforcements from Kitair and they should arrive by Waygate soon."

Naus leaned forward on his elbows and propped his head up by putting his hands under his chin. "My soldiers are already beginning to put our siege weapons in place outside of the city. About twelve catapults, all told, but they should do the job."

"That's a waste of time. Catapults in a defense operation? That won't make a dent in their forces," Digran said. He sounded so sure of himself, and Dane wondered why he hadn't personally exploded the jiggling mass of flesh and fat with a delayed blast fireball back in Rogust when the urge had come to him. Certainly he'd be an outlaw then but that would be far more interesting a life than being stuck as part of the same bureaucracy as Digran.

Aiden wouldn't approve of that though, he reminded himself, and chose to scowl silently at the man out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes, I'd be most interested in hearing the reasoning for using siege weapons in a defensive position." Yalthros said, his smirk barely contained on his thin lips. "It is a basic stratagem in recent years, though I imagine a senior officer wouldn't be familiar with that. Perhaps someone fresh from a military academy would like to inform us on the purpose of their use? Someone like Lieutenant Trueshot here."

Dane was taken aback by the invitation to speak. He didn't think a lower ranking officer would be allowed to offer opinions on matters regarding Sanctuary's defense, especially since he'd not gotten a word in edge-wise throughout the whole proceeding, aside from his outburst. He wondered if Yalthros was doing it just to torment him, or to annoy Digran.

"Well... um..." he stammered, and cleared his throat. It wasn't easy speaking in front of a large number of people, but it was even harder to speak in front of a room full of high ranking leaders. "It's to weaken the enemy's numbers before they can reach us. A large army cannot maneuver very quickly to get out of the way of ordinance, and rolling boulders would likely catch more enemy soldier's off guard."

Dane held his hand up and formed a small fireball in the palm of his hand. Some members present moved their hands towards the weapons sheathed at their sides, wary of the young sorcerer. However, the ball of flame remained in his palm, rotating slowly. "However, if I may make a suggestion? I learned a few tactics at the sorcerer's academy in Rogust, and if we were to use a few mages to ignite the catapult's boulders into something like this," he explained, gesturing to the ball, "we could take out even more of the enemy with an explosive impact, like so..." the ball crumpled and exploded outward in a ring of fire, and all that remained as a small circle of smoke.

"I don't much like the use of magic, Lieutenant," Naus said out loud, and Dane was instantly reminded of the response he had received from the minotaur regarding his report on the caravan raids, "but I admit it would be more effective than just standard ordinance, especially since we don't have time to make any alchemical explosives."

Dane was surprised by Naus' admission. The minotaur were naturally afraid of the arcane, being a very spiritual people and believing that arcane magic was harmful to the spirits they worshiped. As such, their relations with the Elves and Dwarves were not that solid, but they tolerated their use of magic in exchange for the benefits they received by being a part of the Freedom Coalition. Benefits such as trade routes, discounted taxes on imports and exports, and protection should war ever come knocking on their door step.

Yalthros chuckled, "Just what I'd expect from a knowledgeable and capable sorcerer. Thank you, Lieutenant."

Dane could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and without turning to look, he knew that Digran was staring hard at him, with eyes full of hatred.

So that was the elf's goal, Dane thought as he sat back in his chair and tried to ignore the stares from the fat, balding man to his left. All he wanted to do was cause trouble and to drive a wedge between me and Digran. Well, a bigger wedge, anyways. He's just like Sylenthros._Dane paused, thinking on what he'd just considered. _No, if he were just like Sylenthros, he'd have a more subtle, ulterior motive. But what?

"As fer the rest o' the defense," Gryph said, "Might I suggest we make heavy use o' th' Lightweaver's Paladins an' th' Order o' Peacekeepers? I 'ave great confidence in me people an' their allies to help fend off th' enemy."

"Pfft, fat lot of good it did your people back in Olaraa," Digran said in response, poking at the dwarf like a child would poke at a sleeping dog with a stick.

Rance Edward sprang to his feet as his hands shifted from the pommel of his sword to the leather wrapped grip. "Commander Digran, need I remind you of your place? One more ignorant outburst like that and I'll have you thrown out of here and make my recommendation to your empire to have you demoted for your poor behaviour towards your allies."

Digran looked around the room, to look at the sneering, huffing face of the minotaur Naus, to see the barely concealed grin on Yalthros' face, and to watch Gryph cross his arms in front of himself with a smug sense of self-satisfaction. The entire room was against him, a room full of people he considered freaks of nature.

The commander got up and said, "I don't have time for this idiocy. You girls enjoy your little tea party, I've got better things to do than listen to you people jibber-jabber about a bunch of nonsense. Trueshot," he sneered, "We're leaving, and that's an order."

Yalthros cut off Digran's retreat from the room with one simple sentence. "I think your officer should stay. I feel that his input would be most valuable in these proceedings."

Dane was certain he could hear Digran's teeth grinding together. Without turning around, he shouted, "Do as you wish." Without any further discourse, the Rogarian Commander departed, slamming the large wooden double doors of the meeting hall behind him.

"Now then," Yalthros said, turning to Gryph, "What was that about your units? The Peacekeepers and your Lightweaver Paladins?"

"O' aye, about 'em, we got one o' our finest leadin' th' paladins, the Highlord himself. Highest rank in the military he is," Gryph responded and spoke to one of his officers. "Go an' fetch th' Highlord from 'is quarters. I should rather like t' speak t' him regardin' our defense. He's th' one who organized our army in Olaraa. Not t' mention I'd love t' hear what he knows 'bout this Shadow Legion."

Edward nodded. "Yes, I would like to hear his opinions as well. The information he undoubtedly gathered on the battlefield could prove useful."

While they waited for the dwarven officer to return with Olaraa's Highlord, the rest of the room began discussing possible tactics and methods for dealing with the on coming army. They had a map brought forth and rolled out onto the table, and began putting stone pieces representing their armies onto the parchment.

"What else did you learn at the R.A.A.S?" Yalthros asked as they began marking the map. "If you'll forgive me, I don't picture most humans having much knowledge of military tactics. Rogust has been a peaceful nation for centuries if I'm not mistaken."

"I learned from a jintaren," Dane explained, watching as they placed troop markers on the fields south of Sanctuary. "I suppose I know the basics. We need a heavy spear line in front, each platoon ten soldiers wide by five deep. I'd recommend archers in the back, three rows deep. If we put a mage between the spear line and the archers, we could raise a line of fire and ignite the arrows as they're fired."

Naus used a long stylus to indicate points along the walls to deploy their siege weapons. "We will need to space our catapults about twenty meters apart to cover the entire wall. My warriors can have everything set up within a day."

"Commander Gryph?" Yalthros asked as he turned to address the dwarf, "Have you any input? You've been awfully quiet for a while now, old friend."

The dwarf grunted, sitting back upright. "It never be a good thin' when ye call me 'friend'," he said before he began assisting in planning the defense. "We should have a cavalry charge goin' in from th' left an' right flanks. Strike some fear int' their infantry and break up th' front line."

"If they're smart, they'll anticipate it," Dane said, thinking about how they could deploy troops in the open plains without being noticed. He smiled, remembering something from his last expedition out of the city. "What if we cloaked the mounted soldiers? The raiders concealed their numbers to ambush my unit. We could use that same tactic against the legion."

"Th' mages can do it, easily," Gryph replied, nodding his head and arranging the cavalry on the map.

"More magic..." Naus huffed disapprovingly. "I hope you know what you're doing, witch."

"Warlock," Yalthros said with a smile.

"Semantic nonsense!" Naus snapped at him.

It was half an hour after the dwarven officer left before she returned with their Highlord in tow, as well as a dwarf woman wearing white robes and a black and white furred ursar. The Highlord was wearing the same golden cape as Gryph was, but instead of his military fatigues, he wore a golden suit of armor and carried a tower shield in his left hand like it was nothing more than an extension of his arm. A large war hammer hung from his belt and swayed as he moved. The only part of him not covered in metal was the top of his head, as his helm absent from the entire ensemble.

The dwarf saluted and pounded a gauntleted fist against his breastplate. "Highlord Gantors Glowinglight, at His Excellency's service."

As Gantors approached the table, Dane could make out the dark circles beneath his eyes and the rough, dirty skin on his face. They'd barely had time to rest up since arriving in Sanctuary, yet he was still suited up and running around in the service of his country and Her allies.

Edward stood from his throne. "Welcome, Highlord Glowinglight to the House of Commons." He strode down from his dais and approached the dwarf and his entourage. With an out-stretched hand, the man shook hands with Gantors. "And your companions?"

"Me wife, Helga Glowinglight. She's our high priestess o' Lumine an one o' our finest healers," Gantors said, releasing his grip from Edward and gesturing to the robed dwarf beside him, "An' me best friend an' leader o' the Peacekeepers, Arion Clothspinner."

"It is an honor, Your Excellency," Helga spoke softly without any hint of the dwarven accent Dane had become accustomed to hearing. He wondered if that was how her voice really sounded, or if she was altering it to make herself easier to understand.

Arion merely bowed low, until he was nearly L-shaped, then stood back up straight with his arms at ease behind him. The silent yet reverent behaviour was one that Dane was used to seeing being exhibited by the Ursar, but it surprised him that it would be coming from the leader of a unit fighting for the Olaraan military.

"Now then," Edward said as he moved to return to his throne, "Please, take a seat and share with us what you know of this Shadow Legion, and your opinions on our defense plans."

Gantors stepped up to the table and began examining the map and all the pieces that had been placed upon it. The majority of the forces were spread thin along the outside while, with a significant chunk of forces inside the city proper. The catapults, likewise, were located spread both around the city, and outside Sanctuary's walls.

"I can see where ye lot are goin' but..." he gently swiped the catapult pieces aside and off the parchment, then began working to replace them all in positions that he found satisfying. "We tried something similar in Olaraa, and unfortunately the enemy has siege weapons of their own. Their long range bombardments took down several o' our catapults before the enemy was in sight. They know it be standard ta place catapults on th' walls." He continued to place the stones around the map until nearly the entire army was in front of the city by about several hundred yards, while the catapults were lined up behind them.

"Conventionally... wouldn't putting all of our catapults outside of the city's walls put them at greater risk of being caught by enemy archer fire?" Naus asked.

"The enemy be relyin' more on magics and their giantish forces, rather than mundane ordinance," Gantors said, "After th' initial bombardment, they opened up their attack by sendin' the giants in first with their normal forces close behind. The giants blocked most o' the catapult fire while the enemy bombarded us, and since so many o' our forces were in the city we couldn't deal wit' the giants properly."

"So the spear line won't work, then," Dane mused and scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out what they could do instead. "Shouldn't the enemy know better than to try the same tactic they used on Olaraa? There's no guarantee they will follow the same strategy."

"I be well aware o' that lad, but they defeated two countries usin' the same strategy. Surely the enemy commander is feelin' a bit over-confident."

"Can you guarantee that's the case?" Dane asked, and all Gantors could do was shrug. "I didn't think so."

"Aye true, I can't give ye any guarantees, but I do know that they used it twice in succession. Not much o' a stretch to assume they would try it a third time."

Naus piped in, nodding his head sagely, "Past patterns do not indicate future ones." Everyone in the room turned to look at him. The comment seemed so irrelevant to the conversation at hand. "Apologies, I was just quoting from an old minotaur proverb. I agree with what the human witch says."

Dane glowered at the minotaur, not appreciating being referred to as a witch.

Before he could correct him, Yalthros piped in and said, "Technically, a male witch is a warlock."

"Whatever," Naus said, waving his hand dismissively.

Dane shot a look at Yalthros that said he didn't approve of the correction, but the elf just smiled knowingly. Shaking his head, he steered the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Let's make sure our plans are flexible in case things don't go the way we planned."

"I agree with the Lieutenant," said Yalthros.

"Aye, me too." Gryph nodded.

Gantors could only concede to their points. "Aye, ye got me there. I can work wit' this though..." he said, and got to work on discussing some alternate plans. As he worked, he began talking about something entirely different. "The Shadow Legion is what they call themselves. They're just a bunch of Sytarelites, united under a single banner. Giants, ogres, and orcs make up the majority of their forces, which suggests that this is Zugrul's work. There's no small number of human and elven mercenaries either, and large numbers of minotaur."

"Minotaur?" Naus piped in. "Could it be the Blackhorn minotaur?"

"Can't say for certain," Gantors said, then turned to Arion. "Do ye know?"

The ursar tapped the side of his head with his forefinger and closed his eyes. "I believe they are Blackhorn. I've never met one before, but what I could learn of their army through telepathy was that the minotaur came from a place called Dredal."

"That's the Blackhorn, alright. Nothing but a bunch of witches and death worshipers, they are," Naus sneered. "Us Snowhoof have never gotten along with them, and were it not for the Freedom Coalition backing us, the Blackhorn would've attacked us long ago."

"Gnolls were also present, Highlord," Arion said, "Don't forget about them."

Something clicked in Dane's mind. The orcs' intentions for attacking were clear. They would want to unite Muriaj again under the banner of a new Orcish Empire. The Blackhorn want to war against the Snowhoof, and the gnolls wanted to conquer Olaraa, even after two lost wars.

Everyone in the Shadow Legion had a reason for invading Muriaj.

"Why do you suppose the Shadow Legion hasn't attacked Sanctuary yet?" he asked out loud. "What have they been up to all this time?"

"Conquering what's left o' our Republic, that's what," Gryph spat.

"Gnolls helped attack both Xenaria and Olaraa," Dane thought out loud, "They've had grudges against both countries. Then the Blackhorn are among their armies as they march northward, and will presumably attack Valar."

"Where are you going with this, Lieutenant?" Yalthros asked.

"The Shadow Legion seeks domination of Muriaj."

* * * * *

The sun was nearly set when Dane returned to the barracks. He couldn't believe he'd been in the House of Commons since just after mid-day. It certainly didn't feel that long, but once the tension had left the room and they were able to finally get down to business, time seemed to escape them.

"Thank the Gods you're back, Dane," Roweon said when he saw the man headed towards his quarters. "I am exhausted and would kill for a good drink."

"Why are you exhausted? You weren't stuck in an over-heated throne room all day."

"Digran had us working double time when he returned," Roweon admitted. "He was mad about something, that's for sure."

That's an understatement, Dane thought. When Digran was leaving the House, it looked like he could barely contain his rage anymore than his uniform could contain his body.

"So how about it? You up for a few rounds of ale?" Roweon asked.

"Sure. Let me change into something more comfortable and we'll go to a nice place I found."

Dane changed into his civilian clothes, nothing more than a simple tunic and leggings, but kept his sword strapped to his belt. He wasn't going to take any chances wandering around the streets at night without anything to protect himself.

As the two men started to leave, they passed Elizabeth in the halls. "Sergeant, we're going to a tavern. Care to join us?" Dane said, extending the invitation.

She shook her head, turning down the offer. "Sorry Lieutenant, but I'll have to decline. Me and alcohol don't get along very well." She yawned and stretched her arms. "You two go on without me, I'm going to get some rest. I think I'm going to need it, with how things have been going lately."

They waved goodbye and with that it was just the two of them. Dane led Roweon down the streets towards the Minotaur Quarter. Most of the rest of the city had been vacated, or was in the midst of being evacuated, but the minotaur, being on the northernmost part of the city and furthest away from the conflict had chosen to stay. Some where only staying for a short while, where as others were going to remain and accept whatever happened. The minotaur were not known for cutting and running, and because of this, the only shops and taverns that remained open were those found in their part of the city.

There, nestled in a corner along the lakeside was a small place most people didn't even know about outside of the minotaur community called the Foamy Bull. It was a quiet tavern and wasn't frequented by a lot of people, and that's why Dane liked it. Any time he needed some solitude or a strong ale, he'd always pay a visit to the Bull, owned by a portly fellow named Tolan Darkhorn. The owner liked to employ a number of busty females as serving wenches. Given that it wasn't a burlesque house, Dane honestly wasn't sure whether Tolan's choice in woman was for the benefit of the customers, or for the minotaur himself, but he wasn't one to question what a man liked.

"I've been in and out of Sanctuary plenty of times," Roweon said and looked up at the sign above the door as they headed inside, "I never even knew this place existed."

"With how things are right now, you'll be grateful for its existence," Dane told him.

The tavern was mostly empty, save for a handful of minotaur soldiers talking noisily amongst themselves in a corner, a couple dwarves, two members of Tolan's serving staff, and a few solitary drinkers. Most surprising among them was a brown-furred ursar who looked a little worse for wear, sitting and leaning over a very large, very deep mug. When Dane walked in, the ursar looked up at him, then quickly looked back into his mug.

"Ugh, him again?" Dane whispered, loud enough for Roweon to hear.

"Who? The ursar?" he asked.

Dane nodded his head. "He tried to buy me drinks once. I'm pretty sure he wanted something from me but... well..." He let the statement hang for a moment, and Roweon chuckled at him when he realized where he was going.

The room was a bright orange as the sun's light was reflected off the lake, which could be seen out of a large open window on the northern face of the building. They took a seat near the window, and heard Tolan call out to them.

"Evenin' Lieutenant," the minotaur said, and he waved back to him.

Dane had quickly learned that Tolan's calm and polite demeanor had been one of necessity while running his business. He wasn't fond of the other races, but tolerated them because they paid well. The bull had lightened up after Dane's repeat visits and had even engaged him in a few conversations when he sat near the bar, just under the rare Shimmerscale Trout that hung above the counter, but even still Dane could pick up on the faint hint of xenophobic animosity that he'd come to understand was just part of Tolan's personality.

"Good evening, sir," Dane responded before turning to the woman coming over to serve them.

"What can I get you gentlemen today?" she asked. She was barely clothed, wearing only enough to remain modest. Her tail swished back and forth as she awaited their responses. Dane smirked, finding her act utterly pointless when it came to Roweon and himself. He made a mental note to at least tip her a little for her efforts.

"Two Darkhorn Lagers please," Dane said with the utmost politeness. He reached into his belt pouch and produced four silver pieces and handed it off to her.

"I'll be right back with your drinks." She wagged her tail as she walked away on graceful hooves that clipped and clopped on the wooden flooring.

"Are you sure?" Roweon asked, nodding in the direction of the coins.

Dane nodded, "I make more. My treat." He gave a small grin.

The waitress returned with two heavy steins full of a frothy, golden-brown drink. She set them down, and Dane flicked her an extra silver piece once her hands were free to catch the spinning piece of metal. She thanked him and gave a bow and went off to look after other customers. The coin wasn't for anything in particular she had done, but it would likely keep her nearby to refill their drinks as they emptied.

To think a few years ago when I lived with father, I couldn't even get enough money for a new hatchet, he thought, and raised the mug to his lips. The chilled lager was bitter and strong, but it went down smooth. He took several big gulps before he sighed and set the mug down, wiping the excess from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So..." Dane began, unsure how to begin. He'd been meaning to ask Roweon something for a few days now, but had never known how to bring it up. "So why me?"

"Hmm? What?" Roweon asked, taking his first sip of the drink. His eyes bugged out a bit and he yanked the stein away. "Ooof, wow, that's some strong stuff."

"Yeah, you think dwarven ale is strong? This stuff kicks it in the shins then stomps on it when it's crying on the ground," Dane smiled weakly. "You get used to it." He took another drink and asked again, "So why did you...." he waved a hand around, as if looking to pluck the right word out of the air. Failing that, he said the next thing that came to mind, "...want me?"

"Oh that." Roweon shrugged. "Why not? You're charismatic and smart."

"Plenty of others like that."

"You can do magic and you care about your troops."

"There's a lot of people who are like that."

"You're attractive."

Dane paused. He didn't quite know what to say to that, and the comment left him at a loss for words. "Those things granted... why me?"

Roweon chuckled, "Dane... I think it would be impossible to say exactly what it is. I just wanted you, okay?" he winked and raised his mug in the air. "To you."

With a slight moment of hesitation, Dane shrugged and raised his own mug to clink it against Roweon's. "To me," he said, chuckling and feeling a bit embarrassed to revel in such praise, and deciding to take a swig and finish the lager off.

He hadn't even set it down before the waitress came by, placed a new mug with a head of lager spilling out over the side, and took his old glass from him.

Dane smiled, "See what good service you get in a quiet place like this?"

"Yeah, it has its benefits."

Yeah, plenty of benefits, Dane agreed, like helping to forget that soon we'll have the Shadow Legion knocking down our doors. The grim thought saddened him for a moment, and he realized he wasn't drunk enough to think of such things. He decided to chug down the lager and finish it all in one big gulp, much to the amazement of Roweon who sat watching him.

With a gasp for air, Dane set his mug down and flagged down a server for a refill.

"Planning to get drunk?" Roweon asked.

Dane shrugged and gave him a weak smile. "Might as well have some fun before everything goes to pot." He glanced out the window, looking across the lake to the island where the refugee camps were set up. "It's a shame that this land will be torn apart by the Legion's forces."

"Yeah," Roweon said wistfully. He sipped at his mug slowly, trying not to cause himself to cough on it again. "So, tell me about the defense plans."