“Do not trouble yourself, First Fist,” Nadryl said. “These Order warriors will not attack your party. They’re after us.” After me. “But perhaps it would be wise to make your leave regardless. We don’t want the Order of the Purging Flame to know our plans, now do we?”

“I still have to bring your proposal to the Hurgamandrin,” Oehr said. “But be assured necromancer, we will contact you with our answer.” The Hurg paused for a moment, grunted with a nodd, and then turned about. “We’re leaving!

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Arkhus returned from bellow huffing with excitement and the exertion of traversing the many steps to the overlook chamber. “The Order soldiers are on their way up the Spire,” he said, a mild touch of alarm clearly visible on his features. “They will assault the overlook in moments!”

“Not to worry,” Nadryl said, and then gestured to another necromancer. “You! Bring the slaves. We have a rite to perform. Arkhus, recall the others. We defend the overlook until the rite is finished.”

“My Lord Summoner,” Arkhus said, his eyes widening. “Is that wise? We will have nowhere to retreat should the Order push through—“

“Then send the zombies, Arkhus. I have no time for this.”