Iria kept her face carefully ral as Radast gave the t an over-embellished bow and nodded graciously to the assembled leaders of the various guilds, the temples and the military.

  He was enjoying this far too much – it wasn’t appropriate sidering the circumstances.

  The warlock’s shadow, she noticed, ying at being normal today, though looking closely, she could tell that it was a little too dark pared to the others in the room.

  “I am hoo present important intelligeo yrace today,” the warlock began. The t would certainly have already seen the report, but it was traditional to pretend that everyone was hearing things for the first time at funs like this.

  “One of my associates detained a rogue warlock belonging to the Duergar forces,” he tinued, “and I’ve spent the past two days interrogating the prisoo obtain informatiarding the disposition and purpose of our adversaries.”

  A well-dressed dwarf cleared his throat self-importantly. “Ahem. Alleged adversaries,” he corrected.

  Right. This would be Pavrosh, the representative of the aspirationally-named Mertile Guild. In actuality, they were a sort of rowers’ Union that marade caravaween cities.

  By now, even the official reports suggested that the Duergar were seiziory in the Depths near other Beseri cities. Even the Empire, which actually tried to maintain an underground buffer zone early in its history, had abahe attempt when two of its legions and several smaller garrisons had simply disappeared without a trace. While several cities had a presenderground, nobody could seriously cim to trol any signifit amount of the three-dimensional maze of tunnels and caverns that wormed their way underh all of Besermark and beyond.

  As far as Iria knew, almost nobody expected the dwarves to simply back off from the current standoff. Nobody, that was, except a few delusional traders and merts. Some probably just feared what a war might do to the try’s trade routes, but she imagihers were still hoping to open trade with the Duergar Empire.

  Idiots. Sure, and maybe they just wao set up verading posts near all of Besermark's most important urbaers. With their military, and without announg their iions.

  “They detonated an alchemical indiary devi the Crafters’ District,” Radast answered dryly. “And our current prisoner rehended with another such device beh the Padins’ Hall. The circumstances, sidered alongside the prisoner’s testimony, should be more than enough to establish their hostile iions.”

  As he said this, he gave anracious nod toward the small group of padins and priests situated off to the side of the room. One of the padins, an elderly man who wore armor that could hardly be more than symbolic at this point, gave him a good-natured nod back, apanied by a small smile. The other padin and both of the priests that were sitting with him glowered with barely restrained hostility. Iria thought about figuring out what was going on there, but decided against it. Temple District politics were too fusing, even for her.

  Each padin and priest served their own gods, but they also worked together on some level. Various temples coordiheir aostly based on how their particur gods got along with each other, and how their respective theologies aligned on various issues. fusingly, gods who were well-aligned philosophically might not always get along, while ones who had radically opposing ideas might work together closely at times. As a result, you could never really tell what kind of internal politics was going on iemple District if you didn’t fully uand both the history and the curreionships and is of all the gods represented iy. In short, it was a mess. Fortunately, that particur kind of mess practically never ed her or the Mages’ Guild.

  By now, the fool dwarf had stood up and puffed out his chest, getting ready to unch a rebuttal, but Narald waved him to silence before he could get a word out, annoyance pin on his face.

  “Yes, yes. Get on with it solicitor.”

  Radast stood up straighter and bowed once more, his shadow mirr the motion perfectly.

  “The Duergar warlock ossessed by a whisperer – a demon of the first hell. After suppressing the demon’s influence, I put it to the question, only to find that not only he, but also two of the ue warlocks currently iion—.”

  “Yes, yes.” Narald cut him off. “I’ve read the report, man. Just give us the intelligence, I’m a busy man. If these people want to kly how you got it, they pester you about it on their own time.”

  “Ah, yes, your Lordship.” Radast said, hesitating as he visibly reanized his thoughts. “The enemy forces are being led by a Duergar noble of some kind named Nuros. What’s irely clear is whether Nuros is the name of the dwarf, or that of the demon that’s possessing him.”

  A low murmur passed through the small crowd at that, but Radast went on. “This demon is likely a shade or other shadow demon of the fifth hell. Whatever the case, it’s safe to say that this campaign is being led or influenced heavily by it.”

  The murmur grew louder, but Narald waved a hand and the room grew still again a moment ter.

  “Go on. What does this mean for us?”

  The warlock cleared his throat. “From what I’ve learned, I would expect this Nuros to be at least a css five, more likely a css six demon." He gnced over toward the merts, and his expression grew a touch derisive. “That’s bad, for those who ’t read between the lines. Waging a war like this is likely part of a deal it made with its host. It most likely wants to grow and evolve into a true greater demon. Demons of the fifth hell e souls for their fear. It's most nourishing if the souls both lived and died in terror. Based on the prisoner’s words and my own expectation, Halfbridge, and perhaps the entire realm, sideri Duergar sightings, should prepare for aended campaign of terror to be waged against us.”

  In the silehat followed, a loud sc through the room.

  “Then your intelligence is wrong!” General Arice said derisively. “The dwarves have been maneuvering around out there for weeks, digging tunnels around toward the far side of the city. It’s obvious that they’re trying to set up sappers’ tunnels. If we didn’t have orders from the to hold off, we would have already unched a preemptive strike by now.”

  Radast shrugged, pletely unfazed. “I’m not here to tell you what their troops are doing right in front of your nose, general. I’m sure you have scouts and scryers for that. I’m simply telling you who’s in trol of this army and what the high-level objective most likely is.”

  The general rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but Narald shut him up with a gre. Iria admired his teique. It took years of practid more than a little natural charisma to silen argumentative courtier with nothing but a look.

  “Arice, calm yourself. I just invited you here to keep you apprised. I have her the need nor the authority to order you to reposition your troops. The Mages’ Guild was ordered to send word to Teres, Yetin’s Harbor and Loamfurth yesterday. They will duct their own iigations a back to us with anything they find that might corroborate or refute this information.”

  He swept his gaze around the room, making eye-tact with the assembled courtiers and guild representatives. “In the meantime, I want all of you to make preparations. Stockpile resources, develop wartime emergency procedures, and simply reassure your people that they’re being taken care of. If someone wants to rattle us, to stir up true terror in our city, then we o meet them head on with preparedness, resolve, and a tangible itment to proteg our citizens.”

  –-------------

  “I don’t uand it.” Torvald said, restarting a versation that made Bernt quietly sigh under his breath. “Why wouldn’t you want to see your soul saved, protected from the ravages of the hells?”

  “I use a soulstone for that.” Josie snapped. “But I don’t expect that would work out very well. Souls are fuel, at least the parts of them that make you yourself. If gods are h them, it’s not for anything good. The hells are part of the natural cycle of souls, and I’m wary of anything that would casually mess with such a fual system.”

  “The gods are not like demons.” Torvald rebuked her patiently. “They’re fually different – you ’t just assign them motives based on your experiences with dark and nefarious creatures.”

  "Of course I ," Josie grunted as she heaved a bucket full of filthy debris up a dder. “I just did.”

  The two of them had been having minor variations of this discussion for days now. Josie had engaged more than a few times, discussing the theological basis of Beseri worship. Both of them seemed quite knowledgeable about each other’s ideology to the point where Bernt couldn’t follow the details himself. It didn’t matter, though. The crux of the argument was that Torvald trusted that the gods were both unknowable and good, and Josie thought that both points were insane.

  Bernt, who’d checked out of the versation the sed time around – that was something like four days ago – wanted nothing so much as to call it a day and go home.

  Remarkably, despite that irritating versation, they’d actually made goress. Josie was diligent and thh by nature and Torvald had an unquenchable enthusiasm for doing his duty and doing it “right”, that was pletely undiminished by his assigo sewer duty. As a result, they were actually pretty close to finishing their assig. In fact, Bernt seriously doubted that this part of the system had ever been so and clear of pests si had been built.

  Torvald even stopped to grease the hinges on the grates, entirely on his own initiative. Bernt had finally drawn a line wheried to buy the grease with his own money and showed the crazy acolyte how to fill out the reimbursement forms.

  “Why ’t you leave her alone?” Bernt asked him tiredly while Josie went to unload her bucket into the cart.

  “Because it’s important to me,” he answered simply. “Why would someone knowingly turn up their a ce for salvation? It just seems so self-destructive.”

  Bernt shrugged. “You didn’t ask me, and I don’t serve any of the gods, either.”

  “That’s true, yes...” Torvald admitted. “But I don’t think you have an answer.”

  “And Josie does?” Bernt scoffed and shook his head. “She told you already – she just doesn’t trust them. It’s not that profound.”

  “Alright, what about you?” he asked, annoyance finally creeping into his voice.

  Bernt shrugged. “I don’t want to mess with any gods, but that doesn’t mean I want to dedicate my existeo being the extension of one’s will. I’m my own person.”

  What, after all, was the point of eternity if you couldn’t make your own decisions? Wasn’t that just a different kind of death?

  “The gods don’t take your will, or suborn it.” Torvald insisted. “It’s about aligning your purpose with one who resonates with you on your own.”

  Bernt rolled his eyes. How was that actually any different in practice? He was about to respond when the ground all around him vibrated.

  “Earthquake! Up!” he shouted, almost before he’d eveered what he was feeling. He dove for the dder and scrambled up, Torvald a few steps behind him as he caught on.

  Bernt had experienced mihquakes before, but they only sted a few seds. By the time they found Josie in the increasingly chaotic streets, almost half a minute had gone by and it was still going. It wasn’t a violent shaking so much as a steady, soft vibration apanied by a loud, low rumble.

  A trumpet sounded from a nearby wall, followed by another in the distahe rumbling stopped, but the chaos was only just beginning. City guard patrols coalesced inter units and streamed toward the walls as civilians hastily tried to clear the streets. The guards moved more smoothly than they had during the kobold’s assault, and more quickly, too. The Underkeepers weren’t the only ones who’d been training.

  “e on!” Josie called and ran dowreet. There was a small wicket gate set into the city wall ahead of them, permaly sealed and bricked over. What was still there, though, was a narrow stairway that led up onto the wall. Without hesitating for a moment, the warlock sped up the steps.

  Berated. Civilians weren’t allowed oy’s fortifications, but teically they weren’t civilians anymore. At the same time, they were outside of their jurisdi, a had no idea what that meant. Still, he wao know what was going on, and Josie was a legal expert. Besides, the guards were going to be far too busy to worry about it.

  He followed, hurrying to catch up, with Torvald hot on his heels.

  Josie was waiting for them at the top, but she wasn’t looking in their dire. Toward the west, the southwestern highway had been transformed. The broad roadway was supposed to disappear behind a hill about a mile to the west, where it led down into the rocky pins that eventually gave way to the more fertile rivernds that defined southern Besermark’s geography. There it passed by Yetin’s Harbor and led down toward the coast and Teres, the realm’s capital city.

  Now, the highway ended abruptly in a pin and massive stone rampart. It was cruder work than someone like Janus or Kustov would do, but what it cked in grace it made up for in sheer mass. The ehing robably a mile wide a could see tiny figures scrambling across it in the distahe duergar had e to the surface, and they’d cut off what should have been a wide swathe of passable terrain.

  They were being cut off. The Duergar were putting them under siege.