Chapter 117 Pt.2:

Anton took his seat in the Council Chamber. Verona and Kal took their positions, after Verona sneaked some blood from him, while Cetina stood behind. She only had her sword with her, her tower shield was simply too large and cumbersome to wield inside the small room, but it would be enough. Especially if she fell into her fighting trance. Of the council Jeff, Bertram and Sybil joined them. Anton felt they had done this before when Kal had first arrived. They had come a long way since then. The weight on his finger was proof enough of that.

The leaders of the Dwarves and Dark Elves joined them. The others were waiting outside while eating and drinking. Anton assured them that nothing would happen to them but they made it clear they could handle themselves if a fight was thrust upon them.

"I didn't expect to see so many Beastkin." Ceccitol eased into her chair. "I thought it was only going to be...Kal? Is that right?"

Kal curtly nodded.

"There's a little under five hundred here," Anton said. "Former slaves, now living with us as equal citizens."

"There's a lot of bad blood between your kinds." Umikgruid tapped on the wooden table. He gave his chair a wobble and appeared content with the craftsmanship.

"We'll work through it." Verona chuckled. "Even if it's just a day at a time."

"Just as strange as a clanswoman being here." Ceccitol mused. "How did you arrive in his service?"

Verona's eye twitched but she forced herself to remain calm. "I was born here. Apparently, my ancestors visited Atros and left someone behind. I'm not a clanswoman nor do I want to be. I'm from Atros. And that's that."

Ceccitol realized she touched a delicate topic and simply gave a nod. She didn't retreat into herself, her back remained straight and her face confident but Anton sensed a slight nervousness in her breath.

"Now I know that you didn't come all this way just to chat." Anton began. "And I would very much like to hear the reason why."

Umikgruid and Ceccitol looked at one another, judging who was going to go first. Their partners shared sympathetic looks. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

Umikgruid lightly shrugged. "I guess I'll go first then." He shifted nervously in his chair. "How much do you know of the Dwarves?"

"Very little." Anton turned to Bertram and Sybil.

"I've never met one before today," Sybil said.

"I've met a few." Bertram frowned lightly. "But it was very brief and a very long time ago. I think they were improving the royal treasuries security. Not that it made much of a difference in the end. As for where you live...Only that you live on the Dwarven Isles. Apart from that..."

"I didn't think you would." Umikgruid smiled. "We barely touch this land. Even the most adventurous Dwarf wouldn't leave the ports in Qaiviel or Bebbezzar."

"Qaiviel has Dwarves as well?" Anton asked.

"Oh yes. But not many. And most of them only live in the port cities. Bebbezzar isn't too bad but Qaiviel is weird. They don't pay very well and demand a lot."

"Not Graterious?" Verona asked.

Umikgruid pondered for a moment. "No. Oh, there might be one or two. But not many. It's too far to travel for the money."

"And yet you travelled all this way on foot." Anton raised a brow.

Umikgruid and Gosthilda shared a knowing look.

"Yes...We mainly do live on the Dwarven Isles. Dozens of mountains jut out of the sea in the middle of the ocean. Our ancestors tunnelled into them and we've lived there ever since. Each generation expands the tunnels and caverns while continuing to mine deeper and deeper. Hundreds of thousands of Dwarves live there now. They've reached so deep that they can cross from one mountain to the other without having to cross the sea in boats or bridges, but most still do."

"How can you grow your own food?" Anton asked. "Underground...You'd need your own light source. And a source of fresh water."

"We have both of those."

"But that's where the problems start," Gosthilda mumbled.

Umikgruid held her hand. "Our clan, the Dragongaurd...We...We lost our mountain hold."

Verona peered at their weapons left against the door. "How? Those look like very good weapons. And you've got good armour too. Don't tell me it was the Goblins?" Tucac's eye twitched once. "We've had enough of those things."

"No." Umikgruid sighed. "But that would make it easier. Our clan’s hold, well, it started sinking."

"How do you sink a mountain?" Verona looked to Anton. Anton had no honest idea.

"My grandfather said we dug down too much and weakened the mountain so it crumbled underneath its own weight." Umikgruid huffed. "But I'm sure that our clan was given the most unstable mountain. I found drawings of the Isles from before we lived there and our mountain looked like it was about to crumble anyway."

I don't know how you could determine that from a drawing. Perhaps there was a giant fissure running throughout it that they dug along, only weakening it further?

"I take it that all underground construction is now taken very seriously and delicately."

Umikgruid and Gosthilda nodded. "Very much so. But it is still happening. Anyway, they couldn't just leave us to die so the other clans took us in. Which was fine, until recently."

"The other clans want us out," Gosthilda grumbled. "After we lost our hold we had no choice but to work for the other clans. They pay us poorly and treated us like servants. But it was livable. Recently it's gotten really bad. We used to have a room, a small room, to ourselves but now everyone in our clan is living at three or four to a room. And it's still getting worse."

"Interesting.” Anton tapped his fingers on the table. “So what brought you here?"

"And how?" Verona asked. "If you don't have any money."

"We pooled together what we had for a single boat journey to Qaiviel," Umikgruid explained. "We had to sell...Many precious heirlooms of our clan but we managed to scrape enough together."

"But still, why?" Verona spoke softly.

Umikgruid shuffled in his chair. If anything he looked rather embarrassed. "One day, when I was using a forge to repair some armour I saw something in the flame. I'd never seen anything like it. My...Mind left my body. I soared through the mountain and through the sky, across the ocean to Qaiviel, past a forest and it stopped here. At a small city in a wilderness. I...And this is why everyone said I was crazy, I saw the Goddess of the Flame, Esperit. I couldn't understand what she said but I knew I had to come here."

The visions we've had have always been at night. Perhaps it's different for Dwarves? Or maybe Esperit really wanted to make sure the message got across.

"I thought he was mad." Gosthilda continued. "Especially when we found you slumped at the base of the fire having made a-" She coughed as Umikgruid reddened. "But every time he used a forge after that it happened. Even just looking at a flame. But when you said you were going to follow your vision they stopped. And when you told me it was stupid they came back."

"I asked one of our elders, a very smart Dwarf, and he said to go. So, I did. I was going to go alone but Gosthilda wouldn't let me. Everyone already knew what was happening to me and a few of us banded together and." Umikgruid clapped his hands. "And here we are."

"That is...An interesting story." Anton began. "But I don't have the strength to take a hold for you, if that's even possible for someone like me. Right now all I could offer is food and shelter."

"If I'm honest, that will do for now." Umikgruid shook his head. "We're all tired of fighting and toiling for scraps."

"How many are there of your clan anyway?"

"About one hundred and fifty thousand."

The room fell utterly silent. A pin falling would have sounded like an avalanche. Bertram was the first to make any noise.

"How many?" He squeaked out.

"A hundred and fifty thousand," Umikgruid spoke flatly. "More or less."

Bertram looked at Anton in sheer panic. "We can barely look after the three thousand we have now. It'll take time before we are ready for even another thousand let alone..." Bertram was starting to panic. "We only have one well, which we need to make another one soon, and the crops need time to grow too. And the homes, walls, clothes..."

Anton held his hand until Bertram began to calm. Sybil shuffled her seat closer a day gently rubbed his back.

Umikgruid’s face could only be described as apologetic. "Actually, once we cleared the forest we couldn't help but see the large mountain to the north."

"Mount Aspire?" Anton asked.

"I didn't know the name of it but I think it wouldn't be a bad place to start building our new hold. We have lots of experience with mining and tunnelling, not to mention any sort of metal or stone work." Umikgruid became increasingly excited, bouncing like a child. "I couldn't help but notice the state of your stone walls. It's pretty good for what tools you seem to have but I know that we could easily make something-"

Anton raised his hand. Instantly Umikgruid stopped.

"I...Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if I offended your work but we Dwarves can't help ourselves when we see and talk about these sorts of things."

"It's not that." Anton smiled warmly to allay his concerns. "But Mount Aspire is off limits to everyone."

"Except for a small observation base on the other side," Jeff added quietly.

"Why? The Mountain looks stable. And it doesn't appear to be a volcano."

So they have those here.

"And if it was you wouldn't be living this close to it."

Guess there's been a Pompeii here too.

"It's what's below that's the problem," Kal said. "We followed a passage down into mountain after we'd removed some Rock Rats that were trying to make a nest. They had started to remove a blockage. We looked past it and we found a door."

"What?" The Dwarves turned to each other stunned.

"A flat stone door. With a stone crossbeam to keep it shut."

"That sounds like it could be Dwarven." Umikgruid stroked his beard. "But all the way out here?"

"That wasn't all." Kal continued. "Metal spikes had been rammed through the door into the surrounding stone. And..."

Kal frowned as she looked at Anton.

"And something had tried to get out," Anton said calmly. "The centre of the stone beam and almost been cut through. Huge gouges made by something with six claws were everywhere on the floor and sides. We quickly sealed it back up and haven't gone back down since."

"That definitely sounds Dwarven." Umikgruid frowned deeply. "No one else works with stone like we do. But it sounds like they did that in a hurry."

"Something came for them. Something from below. I don't know if the Dwarves, if that's what they were, dug too deep and found something they shouldn't have but I don't want to go down there and start poking around. Especially since whatever they found is likely still there."

"But it's been so long since any Dwarf truly lived outside of the Isles."

"Whatever that found was there before the Dwarves, living comfortably, and once they'd chased them out they'd go back to the way things were. I'm sure that they're still alive."

The Dwarves were very disheartened. To have come all this way and be told they cannot find respite...

Umikgruid took a deep breath and slapped the table, startling the otherwise quiet Dark Elves. "It's not like we have to live underground. We just feel safer without the open sky above our heads. I'm sure that we could live in human homes. Or Beastkin homes, if we needed too."

"It's not that intend to leave Mount Aspire as it is forever." Anton continued, hoping to garner some enthusiasm. "As things stand we could very well be killed by whatever lurks below. With what weapons we have right now."

"Ah." Kal said softly.

Verona leant back in her chair as Kal mouthed the word cannon. Verona understood and smiled at the Dwarves. That wasn't the best move.

"I have an idea. For a weapon. A weapon that will make others obsolete. But...Do you Dwarves have anything like an explosive? Something that creates a loud bang? Lots of smoke?"

"No." Umikgruid shook his head. "We do make some very good crossbows. Big ones too. Ballistaes. As big as this room. We use those to defend the holds and mount them on ships."

"How big is the bolt?" Anton asked.

"Bigger than you." Umikgruid laughed. "About ten of us need to load the damn thing. But nothing can withstand it. Except a big plate of Adamantium."

"Mining? That's all done with picks and shovels?"

Both Dwarves nodded.

"Well. My idea will be even stronger than that giant crossbow. And one the size of that crossbow,” Anton nodded to Gosthilda’s weapon resting against the wall. “Would easily kill someone in plate armour."

"Strange that such a thing comes from a small town miles from anywhere." Umikgruid pursed his lips. "And that no one has ever heard of such a thing before."

"I'm not exactly what you would call normal."

Verona chuckled. "You've got that right."

Kal smirked and a quick glance back revealed Cetina was as well.

"And these creatures wouldn't be able to stand up to these weapons. The mountain hold could be taken back one step at a time until they're all dead and the source plugged."

Umikgruid and Gosthilda shared an apprehensive look. It all sounded utterly bizarre and crazy, everything they had seen so far was. But. They had travelled hundreds of miles on a vision in a flame. It wouldn't be too hard to think this was the solution they so desperately sought.

"If...If such a thing is possible..." Umikgruid stared at the table. "Is it even possible to move our clan here? It's the size of a human capital city!"

"I have an idea for that." Anton chuckled. "And the best thing is that it shouldn't cost you a single copper coin."

Anton opened his hand and summoned a lightning and fire ball. The Dwarves and Dark Elves were shocked. Stunned almost.

"And I can do a lot more besides that." Anton patted Verona and Kal's thighs. "We all can."

"If you really can save our clan from being ground into nothing we will gladly work with you." Umikgruid received a nod from his wife. "I understand that you can’t pay us. Yet. But I’m sure that we can work something out.”

“I hope so too,” Anton said. “I think that your clan will of great help to Atros. There are some finer details that we’ll need to work through, specifics of what how we will interact. But, again, we can speak on that later.”

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“Ah. Thank you.” Umikgruid breathed more easily. “I would be more than happy with my life if we could be free here.” He laughed. “You know, my great-grandfather said that humans and dwarves once lived and fought together. Humans controlled the surface, and I’m sure the Beast-kin were there as well, and we controlled the tunnels and mountains. He always looked so happy when he thought of those days.”

“By the way, how old are you?” Anton asked.

“I’m not sure how you humans measure time but about four, maybe four hundred and fifty cycles.” Umikgruid shrugged nonchalantly. “I think you call them winters. After a while, you stop worrying about it.”

“I’m not that old.” Gosthilda chuckled. “Umik was already old when he started to court me.”

Umikgruid rolled his eyes but made sure that she didn’t see.

Well, I guess even Dwarven women worry about their age being known. It’s just that they’re going to have a lot more time to worry about it than us. Especially when eighty would still be young for them.

“I really do hope that we can work together,” Anton said. “We do, and I know this might annoy Jonathan and Zac, but we do need better walls and buildings, better metal and stone working. Atros can’t just spread forever like it is right now.”

“We could easily help to make Atros a great city.” Umikgruid smiled. “If we could get our entire clan to safety Atros would shine miles above even the grandest human city. Literally and figuratively.”

Anton liked the bone that he was throwing out. “Multiple stories?”

“Oh yes.” Umikgruid smiled. “Ten, twenty or thirty of near unbreakable stone, it wouldn’t be a problem for us. We even have a few tricks to keep away beasts and monsters too, something that the human that we travelled with, Raston, said this city suffered a lot from.”

“That it does.” Anton rapped his fingers on the table. “But again, we need to discuss this at a later time. There is still another topic that we need to address.”

Anton looked at the Dark Elves, sitting patiently and perfectly still. Neither looked annoyed they had waited while he and the Dwarves chatted merrily away. Hopefully, they understood that someone had to go first. They didn’t seem like rude or arrogant people, unlike what Nithroel gave off.

“Sorry about that, Ceccitol.” Umikgruid chuckled. “I think we got a little carried away there.”

“It’s fine.” She smiled warmly at the Dwarf. “I think we both understand that neither of our problems can be solved with a snap of our fingers.”

To be fair that’s sort of how we dealt with the Clansmen invading Qaiviel. Just walk in and use tons of magic.

Ceccitol moved her chair forward and rested her arms on the table. “Just like the Dwarves, I believe that you can help us. We’ve travelled very far through lands alien and sometimes hostile to us, even though our hearts and minds constantly worry about home. I received a vision from Stratos that you could help us push back the menace that threatens to overwhelm our homeland.”

“I must warn you that, just as I said to Umikgruid we are not very powerful. We have some powerful magic but no real industry or manpower to speak of.”

“I understand. But I still think that you can aid us.” Ceccitol took a deep breath. “The Shadow Isles are being over-run by an army of Goblins.”

“I knew it,” Verona mumbled.

Tuccac sighed and stared at the floor as Ceccitol opened her cloak and took out a small roll of paper. It wasn’t actually paper, instead some sort of animal hide, and held a roughly drawn map of several islands. A large and long island lay in the middle while eleven smaller islands, shaped nearly identically to the main island, surrounded the main. Each island were aligned the same way, as if someone had one massive island and simply removed the connecting parts. When he looked more closely there were small dotted lines between the small and main islands with several of the other smaller islands also connected.

“This is The Shadow Isles.” Ceccitol began. “It lies some distance away from Bebbezzar but it can be easily reached by ship. However it is difficult for anyone but the Dark Elves to find their way through the thick mist, hence its name, so very few come. And we kind of like it that way.”

“How big is it?” Anton asked. “Compared to what the Kingdoms and Empires?”

Ceccitol rubbed her chin. She maintained an air of grace and dignity even as her face frowned lightly. “I’m not sure. A Dark Elf could easily run across the width of one of the small islands well under a day. But we can move much faster than humans so…I don’t know.”

“Several miles at least,” Anton said. “And that makes the central island…very big. Okay, please talk me through what’s happening.”

“Tuccac? Could you please? You understand more about what’s happening about this than me.”

“Of course.” Tuccac drew a small thin blade from his hip. Cetina’s hand gripped tight on her sword but Tuccac merely smiled. “A long blade like that is too cumbersome in such a confined environment as this. You’d be better off with a dagger, or perhaps keep it drawn at all times?”

Cetina mumbled something, drew her sword, rested the tip on the wooden floor and kept her hand ready on the pommel. Anton flashed Tuccac a disapproving look, Ceccitol remained flat and emotionless while the Dwarves looked a little concerned, their hands moved slowly to their axes. Tuccac’s blade’s handle was constructed from the same wood as their bows, very dark marbled with streaks of red. It was a simple steel blade, not Chelium or Bosciycium. In fact, Anton hadn’t seen much of those metals even during their time in Graterious. Were they simply that rare and the Goblins of Mount Aspire lucky enough to steal rare weapons from the collapsing Kar Kingdom? Or were they made by the Dwarves that perhaps lived underneath the mountain? It was something that Anton resolved to ask later in private.

Tuccac tapped the point of the blade on one of the small islands, this one appeared to be slightly further away from the central island compared to the others.

"This is our home, where the Dusk Reaver’s call home. The other small islands are each controlled by a single clan while the central island belongs to almost twenty small clans, with the Mist Walkers in the very center." Tuccac smiled bitterly as he tapped the blade in the middle of the central island. "They rule over all the clans. But we are mostly autonomous. So long as we pay our tithes and keep our lands safe we are left alone."

"And a clan failed that task?" Anton asked softly.

Tuccac and Ceccitol nodded solemnly. "This island here." He trapped the small island opposite to the Dusk Reavers. "Was controlled by the Green Moon clan. Was. Somehow the few goblins that live on the Shadow Isles banded together on their island and started raiding villages."

A disgusting feeling grew in the pit of Anton’s stomach. He knew where this was going. So too did everyone else.

"At first they thought it was one of the mainland clans attacking them, these things happen from time to time. When they realized it wasn't Dark Elves it was too late. The Goblins attacked in great swarms and overran everything but the capital of the Green Moon clan. We don't know if it's still there but many were not inside its walls. I think you know what has happened to them."

"A truly horrifying existence," Anton mumbled. Tuccac agreed. "How many are we talking?"

"Goblins or kidnapped elves?"

"Both."

"As for the number of Goblins, I have no idea. Simply too many to count I’ve been told. As for the captive women, again I don't know. But...And correct me if I'm wrong, Ceccitol, but the Green Moon wasn't a particularly small clan."

She shook her head, folding her arms and pulling tight against her chest. "I don't know exactly but they were about the same size as our clan, maybe slightly smaller. That would give them...about thirty thousand Dark elves. So..."

"Around ten thousand would be women capable of bearing children," Anton said. "I don't know the specifics of Dark Elf biology but I'm going to assume it's roughly the same as a humans."

"Close enough. We live essentially double the length that you humans and Beastkin do. But it takes us one and a half cycles before we can give birth. And we are only fertile for one day every cycle."

"I..." Anton chuckled, remembering what his gods said about the Wood Elves and their reproduction. "I imagine you keep track of that very well."

"We need to," Ceccitol spoke sternly. "We have to, if our race is to survive. However, it's not particularly hard to miss. We undergo certain changes near our ovulation."

"While that is very fascinating," Anton interrupted during a lull. "And I am intrigued to learn more, I think it is best to focus on the Goblin threat for now."

"Mine will be coming soon," Ceccitol said. Her face was devoid of the normal grace and maturity she normally carried. A nervousness flashed over her face and hands when she revealed that fact. Very nervous. Even Tuccac was nervous. Anton decided to pretend that he didn't hear it and allowed Tuccac to continue.

"The Goblins." Tuccac tapped on the two small islands either side of the Green Moon's. "Breached the mainland but didn't spread out in all directions. Like we expected those mindless creatures to. They attacked these clans. And destroyed them."

Anton held his chin and leant back into his chair. Another thought was building. Verona started began before he could say anything.

"After losing an entire clan you let another two fall?" She threw her hands up in defeat. "How? You must have known what was coming for you."

It may not have been the most delicate way to put it but it needed to be asked. And it’s a question that you can ask but I can’t. It’s difficult to negotiate with someone that would ask such harsh questions but I can, even with you at my side. Good cop, Bad cop? Anyway, the Dark Elves look like capable warriors and there doesn’t appear to be a distinction between the sexes.

"The..." Tuccac clicked his tongue. "The Green Moon clan wasn't particularly liked by anyone. They were rude and arrogant, and often restored to raiding trading fleets from the Mycean City States travelling to Bebbezzar and beyond. All their ships were seized and their docks destroyed. They were bitter for generations and still thought themselves better than everyone else. Truth be told, I'm not sorry they are gone."

"Except now there are a billion Goblins running about your islands." Verona sank into her chair.

Tuccac couldn't refute her words. "The Dark Elves are insular, even one clan to another. Only ours really travels beyond the ports of Bebbezzar. And even then not very far."

"So it was difficult to form a united front against them?" Anton asked. "Since your clans are so decentralized and autonomous. And initially, no one cared that a hated clan had fallen?"

Both Dark Elves were quite embarrassed by their fellows. Because of their inaction now, hundreds of thousands of Dark Elves could be at risk.

"I certainly shouldn't belittle you for something in the past," Anton said. "But I assume now there is a united front?"

"Not...Exactly." Tuccac shook his head. "The Mist Walkers have ordered all the Island Clans to send their warriors into battle but almost none from the mainland."

"This should be good," Verona mumbled.

"They think that we are more savage and wild." Ceccitol sighed. "Lesser. And think we are expendable. Not to mention they are worried that if the surrounding mainland clans lost their warriors they would rebel and overthrow them."

"Politics." Anton rubbed his face. "I can imagine that didn't go down well with the Island Clans. So what's the state of things now? Or at least when you left."

"When we left the Goblins were just starting to push south from the three islands." Tuccac gently tapped the map. "And this small island here, using the land bridge. The fighting is fierce, bloody and constant. Every day they push us back. And anyone that falls is devoured or taken away. It isn't looking good."

"I hate to say it but it sounds planned." Anton leant towards the map. "Coordinated. As coordinated as the Goblins could ever be. Do you know if there's an Awakened leading them? That might explain their behaviour."

"Oh," Kal mumbled. "That would make some sense."

"What is an Awakened?" Ceccitol asked. "I haven't heard of this before."

"They're these puss riddled Goblins capable of magic," Kal said. "And they're some sort of leader."

"The normal Goblin hierarchy doesn't seem to apply when they are present," Anton said. "I'm sure those Orange and Purple Goblins were put in Fort Acidava’s tunnels on purpose."

"I have heard of something like that." Tuccac held his chin. "But I've never seen one. On the Shadow Isles, we only have to deal with the Yellows and Greens. Like most humans have to."

"Any Ghlotsm?" Bertram shivered at Anton's words.

"No. But I was in a Bebbezarian port when a horde wandered by. I have never seen one on the Shadow Isles before."

"It was just a thought. But if there is an Awakened leading them, a real possibility, you'll have to be creative to defeat it. Either that or just stronger than the hordes at its disposal. So there's no way to block off an island and deal with them one at a time?" Anton asked.

Tuccac shook his head. "No. The land bridges aren't true bridges, but a line of stones and rocks that submerge during the high tide. Over the cycles we have made it easy for carts and travellers to cross. So the Goblins would have no problems crossing them when the water recedes."

"Well, I suppose I could use my magic to destroy them." Both Dark Elves raised a brow to his words. "Divide and conquer. I could, perhaps, isolate each of the islands and then they can be dealt with one at a time. You could focus your forces and drive them back."

"The land bridges are very strong." Ceccitol frowned. "And made from huge granite and obsidian stones. The magic needed to destroy a segment so they couldn't cross-"

"You don't think that Anton can’t do it?" Verona sniggered. "That the Old Gods sent you here for no reason? No. He can do a lot more than that. Five thousand dead Clansmen and Orcs in an instant. Does that sound like enough?"

They looked at Anton with incredulity, even as Kal nodded seriously to her words.

"About five thousand. But I could do it."

Especially if I can get those books from Ferula. There are more ways to use magic than what little I know. I'm sure that if I knew some sort of earth magic this would be a piece of cake.

"Our clan’s warriors are bearing the brunt of their assault on the mainland." Ceccitol gripped her fingers tight. "During the day it took us to ready a ship to reach Bebbezzar I learned that over fifty warriors had fallen on that day alone. Another thirty the day before. If it continues there won't be anyone left. And then they'll start sending those too weak, old or young to fight. And I will not let that happen."

"I understand-"

"If you are willing to help us fight back and destroy the Goblin menace..." Ceccitol took a deep breath to calm herself. "I am prepared to give you my body to do with whatever you wish."

Anton heard the roof timber groan, contracting as the midday sun's heat radiated away. It was all that he could hear. Verona and Kal let out a squeak but no words. Anton's mind finally ground through her words.

He blinked hard and raised his hand. "I-"

"If you find me insufficient I can offer you my two daughters as well. I know they are still innocent. You may think they are young but I can assure you they are very beautiful."

"I-"

"My son too, if you so desire."

"Stop. I-"

"I know of several Dark Elf women that would offer themselves willingly to see their warriors come home."

"Please stop!" Anton blurted out before Ceccitol could speak any more.

Anton took a deep breath to calm himself. "I was a bit surprised that you would go that far to get my support."

Tuccac, during the whole exchange, barely restrained his anger. But not all of it was directed at Anton. His anger was thrown at the situation they found themselves in, where they had to potentially offer up their son and daughters to get the help they needed. Once the initial shock had worn off Anton it only made him more concerned about their situation, about how dire it must truly be. And how much had been hidden from them.

"But before you say anything more, Ceccitol, I was going to try and help as best I can. Regardless of you offering yourself or your children."

And neither of you really want to do that, even if means getting my help. Even if you are pretty and I'm certain your daughters are as well...

Anton gripped his hand and focused his mind. "But I would need something in return. We have so much to do and little time in which to get it done, I can't just help you out of the goodness of my heart. Even though I would like to. There are just some realities that I cannot ignore."

Ceccitol closed her eyes and mumbled a silent thank you. Anton, for some silly reason, felt a bit miffed that she was glad he had refused her offer. On some petty level, he didn't think he was unattractive.

"Offering...Myself and my children was our idea." Ceccitol began, relief clear on her face. "I have been given the authority to offer seven thousand Dark Elves from the Dusk Reavers to settle in Atros. And whomever else from the other clans you manage to convince."

Bertram coughed to gain his attention.

"I understand that we couldn't possibly handle that many new people." Anton smiled warmly at the slightly panicking Bertram. "But I presume that those people won't be coming until the threat is dealt with?"

"Yes. We could not do it before. They would accuse us of desertion and hunt down every Dusk Reaver in retaliation."

"They'd probably think you'd all just left on your ships." Anton chuckled. "We will help you both, as best we can. I cannot promise any miracles but we will do everything in our power."

"Excellent." Umikgruid clapped and rubbed his hands together. "It's been a long time since the Dragongaurd clan actually had some hope for the future. We will honour our agreement. No true Dwarf would ever renege on a deal once struck."

"Neither shall we." Ceccitol smiled as Tuccac took his seat. "And thank you for not taking my personal offer."

Anton smiled, he could do little else. If he said the wrong thing his body would become a pin cushion.

"We need to have a private discussion about how to proceed from here. There are many plans that will have to now change." Anton turned back to Cetina. "Cetina? Could you please show them outside, for a moment, and then come back?"

"Hmm? Oh. Right." Cetina chuckled. "I wanted to do this so...If you four could follow me, please. I'm sure it won't be long. And I’m sure there will be food and drink for you too."

Cetina led them through the door and outside the main hall. When the Dwarves left their chairs they almost disappeared from view. Anton didn't get a chance to see their legs but he would have certainly chuckled mentally at their short stubby legs dangling back and forth. Only when he heard the door close and Cetina returned did he relax.

"Bloody hell." Anton slid down his chair. "When they said they weren't sending help I thought it might be a bit easier this time."

Kal frowned lightly. "Was I difficult?"

Anton didn't know how to respond without digging a deeper hole so he kissed her. She appeared to forgive him.

"A lot has just landed on your plate," Bertram said.

"Our plate," Sybil added. "There's more to this than just Anton."

"Yes." Bertram sighed and rubbed his neck. "But I thought things would be difficult enough with just rescuing and housing more Beastkin. And now, now thousands of Dark Elves, hundreds of thousands of Dwarves."

"We can't just turn them away." Verona folded her arms in a huff. "Not after they've come all this way."

"It's just so much stuff that we're going to have to organize." Bertram took a deep breath. "I mean we can do it but it will be difficult."

"If you need help, take it." Anton held Verona's shoulder. "Neither of you can do all of this by yourselves forever."

"It might be time to start teaching some smart people how to run some things," Bertram said to Sybil. "It'll make our days less stressful."

Now we’re finally getting some bureaucracy. Now we just need to make sure it doesn't become bloated and unwieldy. That's going to be a huge challenge. Probably as difficult as what we’re about to do.

"So..." Bertram turned to Anton. "What is the plan now?"

"Firstly, we need to finish work on the portal." Anton began. "Without that, we can't do any of this. But if we get it working we can come back and forth as we please."

"Where are we going to put the one in Atros?" Kal asked. "If someone didn't want us to come back they'd just need to move a stone and then we'd be stuck hundreds of miles away."

"We'll make two sets and hide one in our house. That way we can always come back here."

"And beat the crap out of whoever moved the stone." Verona smacked a fist into her hand.

"You mentioned this portal over dinner," Bertram said. "I'm surprised no one currently has one."

"Perhaps the big Dwarf clans do. When we get there we'll see what they have to offer us."

"After the portal?" Verona asked.

"Then we head back to Jaka, after telling Wilford that we're coming. If he doesn't show we'll use the portal and come back to Atros and travel through Qaiviel. But I’m sure he’ll turn up. Then we'll stop at Koumore and meet Ferula."

"I'd forgotten about her." Verona chuckled.

"And get the books on our magic as well as the recipe of the blue explosive powder. Then we'll make port at somewhere in Seocuria, not Danafra, and rent a warehouse and set up another portal. So we can start to buy and liberate Beastkin."

"They'll be happy to hear that." Kal's tail swooned through the air in delight, even her ears pricked up.

"Then we'll head to the Shadow Isles and help the Dark Elves. In the meantime, we'll send Wilford to the Dwarven isles with a set of portal stones so that can keep going while we help the Dark Elves."

"It's going to be a lot of people coming here all at once," Bertram said. "But...We'll manage. We always have."

"If we're short of any supplies we could just buy them." Anton shrugged. "We have a lot of money, which isn't doing anyone any good unless we can actually spend it, so why not buy all the tools and materials we need. Within reason, of course. No point in buying timber when we can use a portal and get our own basically instantly. Not to mention we can start selling some goods too. More money is only a good thing."

"I." Cetina coughed lightly. "Would it be possible to stop by Bebbezzar on the way to the Shadow Isles? I know it's out of the way but I would like to see home, if only a little bit."

"Absolutely. We'll need to stop there for supplies. I think we could take a few hours to explore a port city."

Cetina smiled warmly. "Thank you."

"Could you please bring them back in for us, Cetina? I just hope they like our plan."

Cetina nodded and walked to the door.

Verona leant close to his ear. "What do you think her daughters look like?"

"Oh, stop it you." Anton gently slapped her thigh.

Verona simply laughed, Kal shook her head, as they waited to see their reaction.