Gerald almost felt too nervous. The plan had to work or they would all be killed. The two magi in the city and the non-magi. (The Skeletons were doing a sweep of the entire city to ensure that nobody else had escaped them.) The Vampires continued their sleep, and the council refused to budge on getting the original document for Gerald. Fash was happy with the prospect of killing more people, but Gerald knew that he should be saved for a last resort. 'Same with me.' He thought pathetically. He ate his eggs and some potatoes in silence as the day passed noon. His mind was obviously on what felt like a million different things. As he finished his seventh plate, he began to feel the physical limitations of his eating, and slowed down. He wasn't a fat man, by any stretch of his imagination, but he used all of that nutrients to help regain his connection to magic.
Lydia was busy, trying to compose herself. She said that she felt more comfortable with the non-magi, and Gerald couldn't blame her. It wasn't even a week and she had been from harrowing death defying problem, to death defying battle scenario. Let alone a first kill… 'I'd want some space too if I was her.' He thought. His frown deepened. This amount of activity around him wasn't ideal if he wanted to charge his magic enough for what would need to be done, should the worst happen…
The scouts reported that the magi group was now only even two kilometers away. (Teleportation was nice but few people could do it, and fewer still could send large numbers of people/products/goods to places. Hence trade and travel were still mostly done by people walking, riding, etc.) The tired necromancer leaned back in his seat, and sighed. "Working hard?" Old man Davith was at the door, and smiled. "The men are armored like the magi were with the same armor. We found enough spare uniforms and enough armor to look like a mighty spectacle, but please don't ask these men to do much real fighting."
"I wasn't planning on it." Gerald replied. "You and your men are tradesmen and farmers, not soldiers."
"But still…" The old man looked out the door and smiled. "Never thought I'd see the boys so excited and energized."
"Hopefully they save some of that energy." Gerald stated. "They'll need it." There was a pause. "How's Lydia doing?"
The old man moved forward and took a seat at the table accross from Gerald. "Well now… that's a difficult question."
"Don't sugar coat it." Gerald replied, smiling at the old man. "You and I both don't like it when people lie to make things sound better than they are."
"Well… She's not great. She's still in shock about the fact that she just killed someone, or something. She doesn't want to… what's the word?... Face the reality of what she's done. She's kind of denying that she killed someone."
'A part of loss.' "That's normal, I suppose."
"True enough." The old man looked at the Necromancer. "So… final check. The plan is to get my boys in uniform, get them to pretend to be the border guards, with their crossbows and spears. Have Lydia call down and keep the Magi away by claiming there's a epidemic going on, since they'll believe her more than us because she's a magi." He still sounded angry using the word magi, but Gerald ignored it. 'He's earned the right to hate it.' "Then, we get the hells out of there if they attack anyways and allow your skeletons to take over with the crossbows from the wall and hope that they can hold the line until the day ends." The necromancer nodded. "Idiocy. Lunacy. Absolute insanity…" The old man shook his head. "Is it really our best option? Couldn't we try to talk it out with them?"
"They're being led by an Everseeker." Gerald replied. "Reason isn't exactly in their vocabulary."
"Maybe not for a dead raiser, but for one of my kind they may listen. Especially if we leave out the part about you and the extermination of the town."
"It's a long shot." Gerald looked at the old man and saw the sincerity in his eyes. The old man was clearly looking for an extra way that he could help. Especially since he was definately too old to be on the walls with 'his boys'. "Tell you what. Grab a horse and ride out to meet them. Tell them that the people have found a plot to kill all of the non-magi in town and you have been sent out to talk to them." The old man nodded, eagerly. "Be sure to mention a sickness spreading or something like that too, if you want Lydia's message to be confirmed." The man nodded. "Can you do that?"
The man stood quickly and bowed. "As my Lord commands, I am proud to obey." He then straightened and hurried outside, calling for a horse. 'Couldn't hurt.' Gerald thought.
He walked outside shortly afterwards. "Be sure to tell all of the non-magi that there are plenty of houses in the nicer part of town now." He told the skeletal commander closest to him. "And be sure to have the skeletons that are the most skillful with a bow or crossbow ready." 'It sure is nice to have access to better weapons.' He thought. The skeletons were now armed to the teeth, armored in what little extra armor there was (excepting what was on the fake guards or the now sleeping Zombies of course) and with bows and spears to spare. The swords were, of course, rarer but every one of them had a longer dagger at their side now. Much better than just their bony fists, no matter how magically enhanced. Gerald was happy with that. 'It might make the difference. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best as Dad used to say.'
Relioth Davith rode quickly away from the town. His old bones hated the movement of the horse underneath him, but he put up with it. 'A Necromancer actually came! Oh I wish she had lived to see this!' He thought of his wife, long since passed, who claimed to have seen the Necromancer in her dreams shortly before her passing. 'Maybe she had the gift of prophecy.' He thought as he rode, which distracted him enough to have the horse canter beneath him without him wincing too much. He soon found the main group, and trotted over the slopes of hills to get to them faster. They were walking, but they had a caravan of supplies that was slowing them down.
The obvious Wizard at the front halted him, and peered him over. Davith bowed low, "Greetings, master Wizard. I assume you are headed for Portal?"
The Wizard nodded, too important to talk to such a menial man. "Then it's a good thing I found you before it was too late to head back. The town's in a state of plague! I was selected to hurry and get some medicine from Cremil. Unless you have some medicine yourselves you'd be willing to part with." This caught the wizard off guard.
"Why were we not informed by the council?" He asked, his high tenor voice loud.
"I am afraid that I don't know, master Wizard. I was just selected from the slums of the town to try to get some medicine and get back to town."
"The slums… So you are non-magi." The Wizard didn't question it, he just continued. "Why aren't you asking for help from the Witches, Wizards, and Druids who live in town? I know several who live there personally."
"I don't doubt, master Wizard." Gerald replied, bowing again. "But there are rumors that the entire council are sick. Mind you, you know how the gossip gets." The Wizard nodded and Davith continued. "Either way, we've heard… more disgusting things that make us not trust them anyways…"
"What disgusting things? Be quick, you are holding up the caravan."
"My pardon, but I scarce know where to begin… We found a guard who was telling of a planned purge of us in the slums, if you take my meaning sir." The Wizard now widened his eyes in shock. "Have you… no. I'm sure someone as powerful as you would not have heard of such small trivial affairs in Portal as these." The wizard had heard of these things before however. Such rumors were flying around the camp that many were actually going to Portal to aid in such a purge…
"Talk privately with me… Mister…"
"Davith, sir. Is there anyone to care for the horse? I would hate to have it be thirsty."
"We'll tend to it, but come quickly." The Wizard dismounted his own horse, and together the two men went a little ways away from the rest of the caravan. "What evidence do you have of this… purge of the non-magi?"
"We heard it from a magi we trust, sir Wizard."
"Promith"
Davith nodded. "Master Promith. We heard it from him, and we listened as a guard who had helped plan it boasted about it. That's another thing I'm supposed to get help with."
The Wizard thought quietly for a moment. "I'd heard rumors, but I didn't think the supremecists were able to do anything yet."
"If we're lucky, this Geez helped plague will kill all the supremacists before they can do anything. It seems to be hitting the magi even harder than the non-magi for some gods known reason." The Wizard nodded. "But I'm dragging on. I would suggest turning around now, Master Wizard… I mean Master Promith. My pardons sir." The Wizard was looking crossly at the old man for the mistake but seemed to view it of little consequence.
"One question before you continue, David, was it?"
"Davith sir."
"Davith, why did you trust me with this information? I could be coming to help?"
The old man jumped. "Honestly, the thought didn't even cross my mind. You look like some kind of guard or lord of the Wizards sir, so I figured you must have more honor than to do anything like that."
The man smiled. "Well, I hate to dissapoint you…" With that, Davith gasped. His head suddenly hurt. The shock was so great that he didn't cry out, or scream, but the pain intensified and began to spread through his body. Then the scream began. Fire erupted from his fingers, and toes and spread through his entire body. As Davith gasped his last he muttered, "Master… make use of me…" And with that he fell to the ground, his old bones charred and burned on the ground. The Wizard Promith smiled, turned, and walked back to the caravan. "The no-maj fools caught wind of what we've planned." There was a chuckle amongst the caravan. "But we may have a problem. The fool did report something worthwhile. There's a sickness going on through Portal." A rumble came through the caravan. "We'll press forward. Should be greeted at the gate with real answers anyways from someone worthwhile."
The caravan then pressed forward, after Promith, Everseeker and future ruler of Portal at the behest of the Wizard Circle…