Once again, Relma was in a cell. The good news was that it was nice, with plenty of straw. You had a nice window letting in the light, which was well-cleaned. The window went upwards and narrowed as it went up, so you couldn't climb out.

Relma had yet to try, of course. For one thing, she had nowhere to go if she ran. And even if she did escape, there might be missed opportunities here.

Overall, being in prison was a distressing habit that she hoped would not persist. There were only so many prisons to break out of. And even prisons serve a practical purpose now and then. So, discrediting them all would be unfortunate.

Now, how to discredit this one?

Relma paced back and forth, hands in her pockets. "Well, this is a fine mess you've put yourself in, Relma. Ronald's still sick, you're far from help, and now you're a prisoner of Lucius.

"What am I going to do?

"Let me think, what are my resources here. I've got none. Nothing tangible, anyway."

When Relma ruled Harlenor, she should put in some rules about how prisons should be run. She'd hate to think that people would end up somewhere worse than this.

Then she heard a horn call, loud and shrill. Then another and another after that. More and more followed until soon, there was an immense clamor. Coming to the window, Relma looked out of the window and saw satyrs. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of them. They were in all the courtyards of Del Gabor and outside the walls in great camps.

"All that fighting and we didn't do anything but delay them," said Relma sadly. "They don't seem even slightly upset." She thought about the men who had died in all those battles and wondered what good it had been.

"I've got to find a way out of all this, and I have to do it now." She sincerely hoped that her plan, whatever it was, was workable.

Then she heard voices on the other side of her cell. They were the harsh voices on the other side. "Good news! We caught a Dust Elven village and burned it to the ground! Even killed a dozen of them, and we only lost thirty for our trouble!"

"Lucius, be praised! We'll crush them yet!" said another voice.

Relma moved to the door. "Why are you so enthusiastic?" She whispered through.

"Hmm?" said the voice.

"You lost thirty of your comrades and only killed twelve Dust Elves," said Relma. "That doesn't seem a good trade to me." Death for death wasn't a good trade, even in normal circumstances. But she doubted that argument would fly here.

"A human would think that," scoffed the satyr on the other side. "We are all of us dying with every day we live. But if we can only do as much as scratch our enemy's faces, it will be a life well-lived. And we have done more than that.

"Dust Elves mature at sixty. We mature at ten.

"When those twelve have been replaced, there will be a hundred and sixty more of our kind. So we have won, in the end!"

"Actually, it would be a hundred and eighty," said Relma. "And you're not accounting for other forms of death. Disease, famine, accidents."

"We satyrs live to die," snapped the other one. "Your kind should thank us for clearing the way for the superior species."

"Well, I suppose the thought counts," said Relma ruefully. "What is your name?"

"I am Shren," said the satyr. "I do not have a last name or any of us."

"Nice to meet you," said Relma. This wasn't good. They'd already started skirmishing. She had to find something to stop all this. If Elranor would suddenly appear with words of wisdom, now was the time.

Elranor did not appear.

Relma would gladly settle for Anoa the Bright. But he didn't appear either.

"... I'll take that to mean either a no or 'you already have what you need," said Relma, walking away from the door. "So I have nothing physical to offer Lucius, and defeating him directly is out of the question. So what do I know? What do I know that could be of value to him. Let me think...

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Maybe Wrynncurth will come and rescue me. He's interested in peace in his area.

"No, he's far away and doesn't want to waste his flight until he can..." She trailed off as something clicked into place. "Can make more souls.

"That's it!"

She rushed back to the door. "Excuse me! Shren!'

"What is it?" said Shren.

"I'd like to speak with Lord Lucius again?" said Relma.

"Lord Lucius is not yours to call," said Shren.

"But I have an offer for him," said Relma. "Something that will make him more powerful than ever before."

"What is it?" asked Shren.

"I can't tell anyone but him," Said Relma.

Shren remained silent. "You, inform the Master of this." He said, probably to another satyr. Footsteps walked away. "You'd best not be lying, girl."

"Don't worry. I'm completely on the level," said Relma.

Then everything stopped. The room went dark as the light was sapped away, and Relma turned to see Lucius emerging from the blackness. "I'm told you have an offer for me."

"How did you do that?" asked Relma.

"I appear wherever I will," said Lucius. "And know the minds of my descendants. Please, speak." Relma felt a bit nervous, but she had nothing else to do here. "Have you heard of Adrian Wrynncurth?"

"My dear girl, I hear of everyone," said Lucius. "A compelling individual and a clever practitioner of necromancy. Especially since he was entirely self-taught.

"What of him?"

"I can get you a meeting with him," said Relma. "I have a friend who is the son of his close ally, and I've worked well with him."

"I suppose you could," mused Lucius. "But how could that be of benefit to me?"

"The Black Dragons are an immense regional power," said Relma. "If you were to have good relations with him, you'd be able to influence the entire region around Gel Carn."

"You exaggerate," said Lucius.

"Fine, yes, I do," said Relma. "Wrynncurth isn't going to fight any wars for you. But he could easily take your part in various issues. You'd have access to a powerful mouth in Steward Benarus' ear."

"And now, please tell me what I could offer him?" asked Lucius.

Relma blinked in surprise at that. She was expecting Lucius to be two steps ahead the whole time. Or to shut her down directly. "Don't you know?"

"Of course, I know, my dear girl," said Lucius. "But you've put much thought into all this, and I'd hate to deny you the satisfaction of explaining."

"Wrynncurth has been cursed," said Relma. "His species has been unable to create new souls for ages. He's just been recycling the other black dragons.

"But you... You're one of the first beings to ever exist.

"You have immense power. You want to rig the cycle of reincarnation so your favored species is the only one left. Your knowledge could be an immense help to him in his quest."

"Yes, I see that much," said Lucius. "But would not allowing the black dragons to increase in numbers contradict my interests?"

"Dragons don't reproduce that quickly anyway," said Relma. "Elves, dwarves, halflings, and goblins are creatures you must worry about. It was ages ago when the gold dragons were decimated, and there are still barely any left.

"It's only a minor tradeoff and could be a huge help."

The room grew a bit lighter. Lucius seemed to sigh, and the sound was painful. "Well, you've made your case well enough. Tell me, what do you want in return?"

"I uh..." Relma blinked as she realized the hole in her plan. "I'm not sure I thought that part through yet."

"Selfless martyrdom does have its drawbacks, I suppose," said Lucius.

Relma saw what she wanted. "I want you to call off this war. Now. Send the satyrs back to their mountains."

"Mmmhmm. What else?" asked Lucius.

"And I also want you to lift your curse on every one your undead have affected," said Relma. She needed to help Ronald.

"Ambitious, aren't we?" asked Lucius.

"And, obviously, I want my freedom," said Relma.

"Well, I giving out outrageous offers is one," said Lucius, flourishing one sleeve. "Better than setting the bar too low. But you don't understand what you ask by the second.

"I exist in a multitude of worlds in a multitude of forms. I have cursed trillions of lives throughout the cosmos. Perhaps more. I would have asked me to remove the curses in Gel Carn."

"In this entire world," Relma insisted.

Lucius shrugged. "...Very well. I've never been overfond of curses anyway. If you must destroy someone, you might as well do it directly.

"Now, we should move on to the third item on my agenda. That seems perfectly reasonable to me. In fact, I will provide you with supplies for your journey and safe passage back to your friends.

"As for the first, I'm afraid I cannot do that under any circumstances?"

Relma eyed him carefully. "Why not?"

"As a leader, I have certain obligations," said Lucius. "The satyrs in this army have offered their lives. They have offered their very souls to me to destroy in the name of the Unborn God. They will die soon in any case.

"It would be immensely callous of me to cast aside such devoted servants."

"In that case, I'd be willing to accept you canceling your plan to bring the orcs into this world instead," said Relma.

"Oh?" asked Lucius.

"Well, I'm not unreasonable. I'm offering an alternative," said Relma.

"And if I refuse?" asked Lucius.

"Well then, we sit here until Wrynncurth enters the war and obliterates your armies," Said Relma. "I've already sent messages and secured his support in future endeavors. It's only a matter of time before his flight comes here and obliterates this entire castle.

"You can take my deal and get something out of this. Or you can inconvenience me for a few weeks and be destroyed."

"You seem confident for one in prison," noted Lucius. "Why should you be here if you were so confident of victory?"

"I hate bloodshed," said Relma. "I hate watching people die. I've never killed anyone directly, and I never intend to. Even if the only people who would die in this war were the satyrs, I'd still want to avoid it.

"If I can't stop you from sending the satyrs to their deaths, I'd rather at least prevent a second war when the orcs come in.

"Now, are you interested or not?"

"...Very well then," said Lucius. "Agreed." And he offered a sleeve. "Give me your hand in pledge."

Relma took it and felt a chill go into her bones. Then, it was broken as Lucius floated away. "Now, I'll arrange for you to be returned to your friends immediately. I must ask this, however. Do you think giving me access to Wrynncurth will work well for you?"

"I told you I'd arrange a meeting," said Relma. "I never said I'd thought you'd get anywhere.

"Besides, Wrynncurth is reasonable. If you want to maintain any influence over him, you must also be reasonable. If you want to influence Gel Carn, you must open yourself to our influence.

"In games of influence, the good usually wins."

Lucius laughed, and the voice was sardonic. "...You are far cleverer and far more naive than you appear at first glance, Relma Artorious. I like you."

Relma eyed him carefully. "You are a very charming, elderly gentleman, Lucius. But I don't trust you."

"That is wise," said Lucius.

So, negotiations concluded. Relma just hoped she had avoided making a massive mistake here.