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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4394580" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 77ON THE BATTLEMENTSA cold evening breeze blew hard over the battlements of the South Tower, yanking at the cloaks of the small cluster of men and women gathered there.  The tower was the highest point in Highbluff, and had been ever since one of the ravager spawn had destroyed the old North Tower, twelve years ago.  That part of the castle had never been rebuilt, and even though the walls had been rebuilt, there was still a gap there that hinted at the loss.  Most of those present stared toward the south, but Corath Dar’s eyes drifted to the west, where the last rays of the setting sun were just visible over the distant horizon.  The wind was coming from that direction, dragging long wisps of cloud that hung over them like cobwebs. Allera came up to him, pressed her body into the crook of his.  “It’s beautiful,” she said, staring at the sunset.  Dar didn’t say anything, just held her there in the gathering twilight as the day faded.  There was no conversation; it just seemed wrong to sully the moment.  And everyone present had already made their views clear, very clear indeed, Dar thought grimly.  As if sensing the tumult of his thoughts, Allera’s grip on him tightened slightly. He glanced back at the others, their backs to him as they watched the south.  Letellia had removed the cloth mask that she used to obscure her face, but Dar knew that her expression would be just as unreadable as in their first meeting, or rather, the reunion that had come at Rappan Athuk just a few short weeks before. Contrasted to her, Sultheros was an open book.  The elven archmage had only just returned from the elven kingdom of Aelvenmarr a few hours ago.  He’d spent the intervening time coordinating with the elven high council on how to deal with the threat posed by the Ravager, although he had left his apprentice, Callyse, here in his absence as a representative to keep him informed of developments in Camar.  He looked smaller than he was, standing between General Darius and Kiron, the two humans given added bulk with their weight of their heavy armor and weapons about them.  Maricela stood a short distance back, although she added to Kiron’s presence in much the same way that Allera added to Dar’s.  He found himself thinking more and more of them together of late, joined together with more strength as a whole than as individuals apart. “There,” Sultheros said, indicating a spot on the southern horizon with nod of his staff.  The others stared out into the darkening sky, but it took a good minute before any of the humans could match what the elf’s keen eyes had detected.  The tiny speck in the distance grew rapidly, however, coming straight toward them as though fired from a crossbow.  Dar and Allera came over to the battlement, and the line of people there parted for him.  “You take a grave risk, general,” Letellia said, stepping back to make space.  Darius opened his mouth to say something, but bit down on what it was, expressing himself only through a curt shake of his head.  We’ve come so far, Dar said, musing again on the respective changes in their positions.  So much had been dumped on him, a role that he’d never asked for and never expected.  Allera was like a buttress at his side, holding him up and allowing him to keep everything together, for an hour at a time.  He felt old.  His hand fell to the hilt of Justice as they watched the approaching form. It was a surprise to finally be able to identify it, even though they’d expected something of its sort.  The flyer was a skeletal thing, obviously undead, held together by threads of necromancy.  Its wings beat in a constant, never-tiring progression, the bone struts connected by tattered spreads of dead flesh that barely seemed able to catch the air enough to keep it aloft.  As it drew nearer, they could see that it was carrying something in its talons, a long shaft of wood or bone or metal.  A few cries of alarm rose from the lower battlements below, but those on guard had been warned, and no arrows or bolts rose to greet the intruder.  It came straight on toward those gathered atop the South Tower, who drew back to give the thing room to land.  It slowed as it approached the tower top, its wings spreading to catch the air.  Close up, they could identify it as some sort of bird, perhaps a giant eagle or similar species in life.  It caught the edge of the battlement and landed awkwardly on one gaunt talon, balancing with its wings as it extended its prize with its other. Sultheros let out a soft exhalation.  “One of the five staves of power,” he said.  “Crafted of ancient magic in the time of Druse-Tharon, the first of all empires.”“A staff of the magi,” Letellia said, her tone more neutral, even reserved.  “I know its kind, too well.”The others hesitated, but it was Dar who finally walked forward, and grasped the staff with a gloved fist.  The skeletal thing released it at his touch, and seemed to just come apart, decaying before their eyes into small bits of bone and wafts of dust that were quickly borne away on the evening breeze.  There was something fastened to the shaft, a thick parchment tied with a golden thread.  Dar left it there, and extended the staff to Sultheros.  “Can you do it, elf?”The archmage nodded.  “I believe so.”  He took the staff gingerly, cradling it in his hands as though it would decay as had the skeletal messenger.  Dar turned to Darius. “Have the orders been issued to the Legions?”“They have, General.  The men don’t understand, but they’re happy enough to obey, in this case.  I suspect you may have more trouble with the people from the town...”“Deal with it.  I expect those orders to be obeyed to the letter.”The old soldier inclined his head deeply.  “It shall be as you say, General.” Dar turned to Letellia.  “And your friends, they will be ready?”“Lyllalya and Dra Mak Mor will be here, with whatever other aid the Mind’s Eye can muster.”“Only as we agreed, under the plan,” Dar said. “We know what is at stake, Corath Dar.”Dar held her eyes for a moment later—that wasn’t an agreement—but the sorceress did not flinch from his gaze.  Finally he looked back at Sultheros.  “How long?” The archmage held the staff close against his body, protecting it—and the ancient scroll—from the wind.  “I will not know for certain until I have had a chance to examine the scroll in detail, but from what you told us earlier... two days, maybe three.  I will need to bring reagents and support from Aelvenmarr, and it may behoove us to utilize some of the resources of Camar’s Guild, and  the church of Soleus, as well.  I don’t have to say that we will need to be as prepared as we can possibly be.”Dar nodded, and turned to Kiron and Maricela.  “Let Jaduran know.  In three days, we will engage the Ravager.”  And this time, there will be an end, one way or another, he didn’t have to add.</blockquote>

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