The great hall had gone still and all eyes gathered on Paulus. Despite his gray fur and stooped shoulders, he still radiated the might of a powerful sorcerer as he drew himself up to his full nine feet of height, looking out at the expectant gazes of the Frost Walkers.
"You mean to tell us, Lady Nyrielle, that you lost the lives of nearly six out of every ten of your progeny, just to repel a single human invasion?" Paulus said. "My people, stand for a moment, go ahead, stand up," he said, gesturing for the attendees of the banquet to stand.
"There are twelve tables at our gathering tonight," the elder said, sweeping his arm out in a wide gesture. As he spoke, his horn glowed and with the sweep of his arm, seven glowing balls of icy blue light formed. "If a light comes to rest at your table, sit down," he said, scattering the lights across the twelve tables.
