When Milo had first seen the starting position of his faction he had been quite impressed by Lilith’s foresight. What he realised after using his eyes of command ability on the death faction infiltrator to make him talk was that their starting position sucked.
“A god damn giant sea cavern which is only accessible at low tide! We could’ve searched around Ferdor for a hundred years and never found it!”
Beldan nodded.
“I should’ve thought of something similar for our faction…”
Milo popped a piece of razor deer jerky into his mouth and sighed.
“So how do we assault it?”
“Now that we know where it is we can try to tunnel inn through the roof, but I fear that might take more than seven days. No, I fear a frontal assault is our only chance, which means we need to build rafts. It might be doable in time if we keep the rafts simple and there’s no bad weather.”
Milo didn’t like the sound of that plan.
“They’ll see us coming from miles away… I was hoping to use the element of surprise to cut my way to their altar and destroy it before they could rally.”
“I wouldn’t rule out that plan quite yet champion, according to our prisoner the garrison is weak, barely a few thousand strong. They’ve also lost two out of three leaders and the one who commands the garrison is an elementalist, not a general. It will be extremely costly, but we might be able to distract the garrison while you make a break for the altar.”
Milo and Beldan continued bandying ideas back and forth for the rest of the day. Neither one of them was particularly hopeful about their chances, but that all changed on the second day when Lily returned with interesting news.
“An army?”
“Around ten thousand strong, they are a tall and thin people with golden hair and pointed ears.”
“Elves, I met one in the arena event.”
Milo asked Lily to lead him to the unknown army. He was impressed by what he saw. Their armour was identical to the elf he’d faced in the arena with nearly all wearing what looked to be standard issue chainmail shirt and skirt. About two thirds of the elves carried a spear and shield, while the rest were armed with bows. It was a formidable force, and it was currently heading in the direction of Ferdor.
“Ferdor must have sent a messenger to ask for help before it fell…”
It was the only explanation he could think of.
Lily shrugged.
“In which case they will be disappointed when they arrive to find a city filled with undead. According to our prisoner Ferdor is better defended than their base. This army is impressive for a native species, but I doubt they have the power to take Ferdor.”
A huge smile was spreading across Milo’s face.
“Indeed, they really are heading in the wrong direction…”
By the time they returned to the rest of their little army Milo had already worked this unknown army into his plans.
“Beldan you will remain here with all our demon forces. You are to shadow the elven army wherever it goes. I will send Lily with further instructions when the time is right.”
There were only around fifty hybrids left in their army and Milo gathered them together.
“You will pretend to be my honour guard, be as friendly as possible and learn everything you can.”
He turned to Ivy.
“And you will play my queen, now come let’s greet this army of liberators.”
Beldan looked like he wanted to protest but once Milo filled him in on the rough outlines of the plan he instantly agreed. The risk was significant, but if everything went as planned, the death faction would be destroyed within the week.
Milo approached the elven army with a white flag flapping on a pole. As soon as they caught sight of him the army halted and started deploying into ranks. For a few moments it looked like everything would go wrong, then a rider on a giant razor deer emerged from the army with an escort that was identical to his own in number. The rider wore magnificent light plate armour engraved with vines and leaves and had a spear with a golden leaf tip slung across his back.
Milo beamed at the elven rider.
“Greetings friend, my name is Milo Harper, champion of Lilith and lord of Emberstone.”
The elf looked anything but impressed by his titles.
“I am Landrian, lord emissary of king Valar, I have never heard of Emberstone.”
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Milo ignored the obvious hostility in the elf’s voice.
“Emberstone is mighty, but it is far from this place.”
“Indeed? Then what is your business in this region?”
“I was on my way to Ferdor for trade talks when I came across a large group of refugees from that very city. They informed me that the city has fallen to the undead.”
Landrian stiffened and his eyes narrowed.
“You are certain of this? The city is lost?”
“That’s what the refugees told me before I sent them to my lands yes.”
Landrian looked over his shoulder at the elven army, his gaze seemed to be focused on a point surrounded by several standards. After a moment of hesitation he turned back, and his voice lost some of its hostility.
“Wait here, I must speak with my king.”
The elf turned and rode back to his army, five minutes later the army started making camp and Landrian returned.
“If you would follow me Lord Milo, my king would like to speak with you.”
So far everything was going according to plan, but they were now about to enter the phase which carried the highest risk. Still, he followed Landrian as the elf lead him to a large silk pavilion which had been hastily erected for the meeting.
Milo and Ivy entered the pavilion and found a large group of elves seated around a table so large it had obviously been conjured with magic. At the head of the table sat an elf with sharp eyes and a crown upon his head. The rest of the seats were also filled with elves, all except two. One seat directly opposite the elven king had been left empty for him, as for the other seat it was currently occupied by a tiny man sitting atop a small mountain of cushions. The small man looked almost like the goblin he’d fought in the arena except his skin was white. Milo must have been staring because the small man suddenly spoke in a shrill but angry voice.
“What!? You’ve never seen a gnome before?”
Milo opened his mouth, but it was Ivy who replied.
“Apologies, we are new to these lands, my lord meant no offense.”
The gnome looked like he was about to reply but the elven king cut him off in a voice full of authority.
“None taken, our gnomish allies are an unusual sight in most places of this world. I am king Valar of the emerald forest, and I am most grateful for any information you might provide us with on Ferdor.”
Ivy all but shoved Milo into the empty seat and then took up a position slightly behind the right side of his chair.
“I am lord Milo of Emberstone, and I would be happy to share what I know. As I told your emissary, two days ago we came across a large group of refugees from Ferdor. They claim the city has fallen after it was attacked by undead from the ocean. Now normally I would be sceptical if somebody told me a city of Ferdor’s size had fallen, but this group was being pursued by an undead army. I engaged the army at great cost and was barely able to defeat it.”
The elven king looked thoughtful but after a few moments he nodded.
“This story would explain why we haven’t heard from Ferdor’s council ever since the emergency spell was sent to our capital.”
Milo’s face took on a grave look.
“Am I right in thinking that this army was intended to aid in the defence of Ferdor?”
“Indeed, Ferdor might be a human city but many cities in this region depend on its trade routes. We entered into a mutual defence pact with the city a few decades ago.”
He decided to strike while the iron was hot.
“And now that you know the city is lost, what will you do?”
Several of the elves seated around the table suddenly turned hostile and judging by their reactions they clearly thought he’d overstepped. Yet the king answered without hesitation.
“We will capture Ferdor and restore the city to its former glory, it will become the jewel of my kingdom.”
Milo could well understand the temptation the elven king must be feeling. Ferdor’s value was almost incalculable even without any people to convert. It would open up the ocean and he was almost certain that the death faction was not the only faction which hid their altar near or in the ocean. The last thing Milo wanted right now was for this elven army to go to Ferdor and potentially capture the city. It was time to steer the conversation in a new direction.
“What do you know about the army which captured Ferdor?”
The king looked at Landrian and the emissary replied.
“The emergency message said they were under attack by the undead lead by a large number of necromancers.”
“Have you fought the undead before?”
Landrian shook his head.
“They’re not like other enemies, their mages have the ability to raise the dead, which means that every time one of your soldiers die, they will rise again and fight for the enemy.”
Landrian sounded annoyed by the explanation.
“We might not have faced these monsters before, but we do know what a necromancer can do.”
“Of course, I merely mention it because Ferdor’s enchanted walls are still intact, and the city is defended by a large garrison. Your army is mighty, and you may very well prevail, but the cost will be heavy.”
The king took over.
“How do you know this?”
“I interrogated one of the enemies, he told me about Ferdor’s garrison and where their true base is located.”
The king’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“What true base?”
“Two days ride north of here is a cavern by the ocean which can only be accessed at low tide. Within this cavern lies the true power centre of our common enemy. Destroy this base and the magic animating the undead currently occupying Ferdor will simply cease functioning. According to our prisoner this base is lightly held compared to Ferdor.”
The king clearly knew he wasn’t telling him the whole thing, but the lure was tasty to ignore. He looked at the gnome and spoke.
“Hervix, show our guests to the cook fires and make sure they are given food and drink. I must discuss what our new friends have told us with my war council.”
Milo stood up and inclined his body in a shallow bow to the king, he got a respectful nod in return. The gnome muttered something and then climbed down from the tower of pillows that was his seat. The small gnome led them from the tent as Milo grinned. The meeting had gone almost exactly as he had hoped, Ivy clearly agreed because she whispered in an excited voice as soon as they left the tent.
“That was well done, I’d be amazed if they don’t demand to know exactly where the death faction’s capital is.”
The gnome must have overheard them because he snorted loudly.
“You’ll be lucky if the king doesn’t beat it out of you at the tip of a sword. I’d tread carefully if I were you, these elves are not the graceful and benevolent allies you imagine them to be.”
The gnome sounded bitter, and Ivy immediately pounced on the opportunity for some information. She motioned for their hybrid bodyguard to close in around them thus cutting off any would-be eavesdroppers.
“You speak from experience?”
Hervix looked back over his shoulder up at Ivy, his face had twisted into a scowl at the question.
“I do.”
That was all the gnome would say on the subject, but the reason for his bitterness soon became obvious for anyone with even a hint of perceptiveness. Every time they came across a one of Hervix’s people the gnome in question would be busy tending to clothes and armour, cooking or moving supplies. They were also always overseen by at least one elf who watched over their work. The scenes reminded Milo of ancient paintings of Egyptian slaves, all that was missing was the overseer’s whip.
Hervix lead them to a part of the camp where several hundred gnomes were working on what looked like siege weapons. Milo vaguely recognised the machines as a scorpion, a type of large crossbow which would shoot large bolts across vast distances. Hervix grabbed a bunch of bowls and bade them sit down by a cookfire.
The gnome was watching him closely, no doubt hoping to gauge his reaction to the obvious mistreatment of his people. Milo let nothing slip, instead he let Ivy dig for more information.
“How long have your people been guests of these noble elves?”
Hervix’s sharp eyes turned to Ivy, and he didn’t miss a beat.
“My people encountered the king and his people eleven years ago, in the beginning we traded with them freely but eventually they grew tired of paying for our goods. We’ve been guests ever since.”
“How wonderful, and how does he ensure you stay guests? Is he keeping your friends and family as guests as well?”
“You guess correctly, the king has been quite clear that if we don’t behave as good guests should then an accident might befall our town.”
It was obvious to even the worst military tactician that the gnomes were hopelessly outmatched in physical combat by their elven overlords. He guessed their chances of successfully rebelling were close to zero.
Milo noticed a few elves trying to discreetly listen in and decided to change the topic to something less risky. He pointed his spoon at one of the scorpions.
“That is an impressive creation, did your people invent it?”
Hervix nodded.
“My people have always had a talent for creating toys, buildings and machines of any kind. That particular invention is quite new and was created upon the insistence of king Valar for the upcoming siege.”
Milo doubted a few dozen scorpions would help the elves take Ferdor, but it definitely couldn’t hurt their chances.
“We will also be making siege towers once we get to our destination, or at least that was the plan until you stumbled into camp.”
They were recalled to the king’s tent before they could finish eating. King Valar looked resolved as he bade Milo sit.
“After consulting with my war council, I have decided that you will lead us to this hidden base of our common enemy. You will also tell my general everything he needs to know about the capabilities or these undead armies. Once we deal with the vermin, we will share the loot and go our separate ways, until then you will remain my guests.”
Milo inclined his head in agreement with a fake smile. Based on what had happened to the king’s last guests Milo had serious doubts that he would be free to leave once the battle was over. At best the elves would hold him for ransom, at worst they wanted to destroy or enslave a potential competitor.
“I will be happy to be your guest.”
