Montazus would rather be anywhere than here, in this skeletal and deadly place. The looming arches were engraved with images of death and decay. Though the sun looked on all things, he doubted it liked looking on these.

Would that he had been given to the Sun Spirit forty years ago, that he did not have to make such an alliance. But he did, and so he looked at the floating humanoid before him. A creature of bones circling around a single red gem at the center. Bright, flaming eyes gazed at him from the throne as a single hand was drawing life from a prisoner.

"Do you intend to drain the lifeforce from these slaves while we have our meeting, Lord Durag?" asked Montazus, reminding himself that the very universe rested on this alliance.

"Ah, yes, that," said Durag. "He is a criminal, not a slave. Still, I suppose you prefer other beverages. I may have wine delivered if you so desire."

"I would prefer not to drink at all," said Montazus, feeling ill as the prisoner's flesh withered away. Even before his eyes, his bones began to break apart. The man did not scream at all. "Mixing pleasure with war is to be avoided."

"As you wish," said Durag. "You need not fear. I've broken their ability to feel or perceive anything. They are more or less in a void, waiting to die.

"I am a humanitarian, more than anything else. Now, what is it you wished to speak of, High Priest?"

"The Conquista of Anoa will soon have its prophecy fulfilled," said Montazus. He was shifting his favorite green cloak about him. His wife had made it for him before she passed away a few years ago. "My scouts speak of wolves walking far afield. A man who is kin to them has arranged the coming of the Heir of Kings."

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"...So, the time has come then," mused Durag.

"Indeed it has," said Montazus. "We have read the stars. The Heir of Kings has come at last. Her coming may well serve as the footsteps of doom for both our empires."

"I do not have an Empire, Montazus; I have property and associates," said Durag with a shrug. "Highwatch has my allegiance. Just because they delegate authority to me does not change my allegiance.

"Still, I do see what you mean. The Conquista has long spoken of this coming moment while rallying against us. And the Dragon Empire knows her companion well."

"Companion?" asked Montazus, surprised. Had Durag known of this?

"Yes, Adrian Wrynncurth," said Durag. "I sensed his power; the last time I felt it, I was yet mortal. An ancient soul continually reincarnated. A master necromancer as well.

"I would very much like to meet him."

Montazus was not inclined to compromise. "He will burn, like all ancients must."

"Not so long as our alliance lasts, he won't," said Durag, shaking his head. "The girl means nothing to me; the same may be said of the humans. However, Wrynncurth is a true master of the art. Well worthy of my respect, I think."

"I wonder if he will take that as a compliment," noted Montazus.

"What do you know of the wielding of magic, Montazus?" asked Durag, irritated. "The pyres of your victims burn daily to give you power, and what do you use it for? More pyres? Survival for its own sake is a worthless pursuit."

"You will never understand the grand purpose of the Sun Soul Empire," said Montazus.

"I understand it all too well; I merely hold it in contempt," said Durag. "Now, perhaps we should discuss our strategy. I have many resources; I am certain I can stop them."

Strategy was never Montazus' preferred pursuit. He'd have much rather have been enjoying the sun on his face in a field of flowers. But faith required sacrifice from all men. And to be without faith was to be nothing.