...In the Capitol of the Roble Holy Kingdom...

When Caspond did not come down in the morning to hold court, nobody thought much of it except that it was odd. Whatever his faults, he was very good about getting up before most and being on the throne before anyone else got there. The nobles who frequented the court were there early, and the absence of the guards at the base of the tower leading to the window into the King's chamber was noticed, and that prompted a search by their superior who was most displeased by their failure to do their duty. Their relief took their places dutifully enough and the captain of the guard began to seek out the wayward fools who he assumed had taken off to a tavern or a brothel and lost track of time.

He was still looking three hours later, along with a number of other guards, when within the palace itself a maid dared entreat entry into the King's chamber, was granted it, and immediately began to scream, raising an alarm throughout the palace. The body of Caspond had been badly mutilated and he was very obviously dead and had been for hours.

The hue and cry went from his chamber to the entry to the palace and out into the city, the death of the King sent people into shock or panic, but the lords, the nobility...however cowardly many of them may have been in battle...found courage in their chosen arena of political engagement. This was their world, the jockeying for power had already begun before the King's cold corpse was taken from his chamber.

There wasn't a man, woman, or child of age who did not know of the death of King Caspond by the time restaurants began opening for lunch, and terrible were the mutterings among commoners, priests, and even opportunistic nobles.

Robel & Gilcrest sat in deep conversation in the new temple, each having arrived independently of the other on learning of the news, and each rightly figuring that the matter must be discussed between them and a plan of action formed for any possible scenario.

"I wonder who killed him." Robel said, shaking his head slowly, "He wasn't a perfect King, but he was at least willing to listen to us, hell he was going to join us."

"Well that more or less tells us who killed him, doesn't it?" Gilcrest replied as he poured two goblets of wine and placed one in front of Robel and one in front of his chair, then he took his seat slowly, placing the bottle on the table in anticipation of early need.

"Not really." Robel said. "Yes we can say with certainty that no follower of the Sorcerer King would do this. But priests, nobles, hell even the Slane Theocracy is not above suspicion given the experience we had bringing down some of their operations...or their considerable involvement in other goings on in the rest of the North...or the South if the other reports are right. Fuck, they sent a goddamn SCRIPTURE out to bring down the pope. Killing a king is not even a step removed from that!"

Gilcrest raised his goblet. "The King is dead. Long live the...whoever the fuck takes over next." He said.

"I second that." Robel said and raised his goblet and clinked it against Gilcrest's own.

Gilcrest drank some and set the goblet down, while Robel seemed to prefer to finish his. "What I mean is, there are really only two sides here...those with the Sorcerer King, and those against him. If those with him didn't do it, those against him DID, and what THAT means is that no matter who actually drew the blade or gave the order, they will all united to bring us down here." He picked his goblet up again and resumed drinking.

"True enough." Robel said, putting his goblet down as it emptied and picking up the bottle to end the tragedy of an empty cup. "But you can't ignore the important fact that the only reason they'd actually DO this...other than to prevent his official acceptance of our beliefs, is if they could...or believed they could, get a fitting replacement on the throne. It doesn't do any good to kill King Caspond, if his successor is of the same mind as he was."

As Robel drank from his goblet again, more slowly this time, Gilcrest took his turn to refill from the bottle and nodded in agreement. "I can't argue that point, it means that we need to take precautions, we control the city guard here in the capitol, and our villages and towns are well protected now, thanks to hiring numerous adventurers out of the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Sorcerer Kingdom, plus our emphasis on combat and security has turned us into the largest militia in the country, our towns are basically armed camps, and after what happened in Kedyn...well openly challenging us may take some time. The real problem will be in securing our populations in divided cities. We have one chief advantage here, and that is that the next ruler, whoever he or she is...is basically living under our swords, most of this city is now in our hands."

Gilcrest drank slowly and relaxed into his chair. "Have you read any of the reports lately on conversion progress?"

"I did." Robel replied, our free healing policy is proving very popular, a lot of Red Paladins were lost helping Gustav...well...a lot for that little area anyway, but they stood toe to toe and held their own. And the end result is a lot of people aspiring to join them, our priests have spread the story far and wide, the healing policy has won a lot of good will and people are leaving traditional temples in droves, we've even had some success among traditional priests. There is only one oddity."

Gilcrest looked at him curiously. "Oddity?"

Robel nodded. "Yes, an unusual belief has sprung up from a priest of Surshana, that the Sorcerer King is actually the father of Surshana descended to the world to complete the work of his son who sacrificed himself for us against the Eight Greed Kings. This belief has proven difficult to deal with, its very popular in areas where Surshana was held in high regard, usually the most dangerous areas. Still, other than that, it seems not to have been a problem. I suppose it is something we can eventually just ask the Sorcerer King about."

Gilcrest gave him a smile, "Nice to have a god who can and will actually answer fucking questions isn't it?"

"It does make things easier." Robel said in agreement.

"So how much of the North is on our side?" Gilcrest asked.

"Its hard to say with certainty, but probably over half of it by now, between Neia's...I mean Pope Neia's efforts, and the efforts of our mobile priesthood...plus...oh I can't leave this out...our economic policy on rentals of the undead...well its all been very effective." Robel said.

"What does that last bit have to do with anything?" Gilcrest asked, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Well, because our people have had more leisure time, they're spending more time learning new skills, some of them have taken to rhetoric, others to arts and crafts, others to specialized labor practices that the undead are not suited for, plus the merchants have taken to using undead labor and Black Justice fighters exclusively, spreading it heavily among the merchant and farm labor populations. The result is that people join our temples entirely out of self interest or respect for our abilities in getting things done, and the newly enriched spread their religion to others, and those who develop their skills find it easier to persuade others who want to share in their comforts and abilities. Undead labor is changing the face of the Kingdom, and most of all it is changing minds." Robel replied happily.

"So basically aside from seeing all the tangible benefits to joining us...they're getting more and more comfortable among the undead as part of our way of life, familiarity breeding comfort and all that, and finding that the old prejudices just aren't cost effective anymore?" Gilcrest asked.

"That's the short version, aye." Robel said flatly.

"That makes it pretty obvious what a hostile King has to do first, doesn't it?" Gilcrest said.

"Yes. They have to target the use of the undead and if they plan to do violence, they have to remove the security hired by the previous King." Robel said.

"And if they do that, we have to be ready to respond." Gilcrest replied.

"Yes, we do. Do you have any ideas?" Robel asked dubiously.

"I have a few." Gilcrest said as he picked up the bottle and shook it over his goblet. "Damn. Its empty." He said flatly.

...In Wenmark...

When Illyana had calmed down enough, she was quick to resume her hand to hand combat training, in particular against Skana, who was far better with a sword than Neia. As she did this, Neia sat in conversation with CZ. "When the time comes to make a break for it, I'd like you to take a position on the biggest escape point and provide us secure fire."

"Can't." CZ said.

"Can't?" Neia asked bewildered. "Why 'can't'?" Neia asked.

"I guard you." CZ said, and put a sticker on Neia's cheek. "Cute."

"I can take care of myself for a little while you know, I'm not totally helpless." Neia said.

"I know. But I guard you." CZ said again in the flat tone that would have sounded totally indifferent if Neia didn't know her better. The truth was that CZ was genuinely concerned, and Neia felt touched. She sighed in exasperation.

"Look, you can guard me, just take up a position where I'm going to rush to and provide secure support for me." Neia said, trying to compromise.

CZ paused as if considering the option, then nodded. "I can do that." She said, and poured a glass of wine. "Intoxication protocol?" She asked, as she offered a cup to Neia.

"Please." Neia said. "I think tomorrow will be a very long day, might as well enjoy this one." She reached out and took the cup as CZ poured one for herself.

Skana ignored CZ and Neia for the time being, and focused on teaching the steps for a hip throw to Illyana. As she had the elf on her back and her wrist locked and arm out, Skana spoke to her. "You won't have the strength or the training to take on these men at their best, you 'might' have some better equipment, but quantity is its own quality and they're going to be better than you. So you have to use your strengths against their weaknesses, and you have to turn their strength against them. Remember your goal is escape, your goal is to empty this city of elves, not die in some stupid battle for pointless revenge, time enough for that later, and false courage can destroy the finest battle plans."

She helped Illyana up and took her through the motions again, more slowly, and then had her repeat it over and over again, they paused to eat after an hour or three and found that CZ's intoxication protocol had taken full effect, the demon maid was slumped over on the table snoring and whispering 'Cute, cheek, cute cheek, sticker cute cute sticker...' over and over in a whistful voice. Neia was actually conscious, but she was more troubling in her own way. She just kept staring at the wall, shaking and trembling and saying nothing.

Skana was concerned, she looked over to Illyana and then quickly scrawled a list of ingredients onto a piece of paper. "Illyana, could you go ask Tinamoc to check on the warehouses and see how the construction is going, also give him this and ask him to send a servant to acquire the things on that list? Oh, and stay in his room until he gets back, make sure nobody goes in. You can grab a bite to eat there and use his bath to wash off the sweat first." Skana's voice was casual, but she couldn't entirely keep the concern out of it. Illyana however, knew better than to argue, and she politely nodded and went to carry out the instructions.

When the elf girl was gone, Skana sat at the table and reached out to touch Neia's hand, to her shock, Neia almost jumped as she yanked her hand back in surprise. Skana looked at her fretfully. "Neia...Neia what is it?" She asked softly. The pope of Black Justice kept shaking, but the sound of Skana's voice seemed to bring her somewhat back to reality.

"Its just...I was remembering, I try not to think about it, I really do. Her face as she stood over me, the way the steel slid through my arms like a hot knife through butter, the way she beat me, kicked me and all I could do was crawl. It took everything I had to mock her as she knocked my teeth out, I didn't want to scream, I didn't want to give her the satisfaction, but when she cut me again...and again...and again...I couldn't keep my screams back. Then...god...the whip, I thought I was going to be whipped to death in Yanana...I thought it was the end for me, and all I wanted to do was not give in to the screaming that time."

Neia's eyes glistened as she looked at Skana and she reached her hand out across the table, Skana reached out again and took it, Neia did not pull away this time. "The memories are worse than the moments themselves, there's no time to think then, no time to do anything but act, but after that...how do I get rid of all that I feel after that?" She asked, and Skana squeezed her hand.

"You don't...I guess." She said as she lifted her eye patch and revealed the place where there was now nothing but a socket. "I saw a flash of the thing that did this to me, and that was the last thing that eye ever saw. Truth is, I still wake up remembering, and I still think of the raid on the intelligence center in the capitol, and I still remember the girl I had killed...Torli, the look of shock on her face as the sword ran through her neck hasn't faded."

Neia gave small nods as Skana spoke, the calmness in her lover's voice offering comfort in that moment that was badly needed. Neia slowly stopped shaking. "Sorry." She said, "Its just, I started thinking about Illyana and CZ's weapon at her head while that poor elf girl was on her knees begging to die, and it just...it all came back from there. Its easier when I don't think of these things, any of them." Neia said softly as Skana dropped the eye patch back over her empty eye socket again.

"Maybe so, but if these things didn't have a lingering effect on you...what would you be? Not the Neia I know." Skana said with a small smile. "I think its better that you feel something, even terrible, than to be just a cold and calculating monster who feels nothing about anything."

"Cheerful thought." Neia said and pushed away her remaining wine. "Thank you, I needed that." She said. Neia glanced over at the snoring CZ. "She'll be out for awhile, but I still prefer privacy, lets go to your room, I'm sure Tinamoc will be awhile."

Skana nodded, "I'd like that." She said with a smile, and still holding Neia's hand, Neia got up and they walked out of the room, leaving CZ asleep at the table.

Tinamoc looked the list over that Illyana presented. "Odd list, what is this for?" He asked her curiously.

"To poison me." She answered flatly.

"Oh to...wait to what?!" He shouted hoarsely.

"To poison me when you leave the city." She said to Tinamoc. "This will make it appear as if I've gotten sick, that way the hotel owner won't...give me another assignment." She said as blandly as she could, shuddering at the meaning behind those four words.

Tinamoc's expression turned unpleasant. "Oh, I see, that makes sense. I can get what you need easily enough, but can I suggest something else?" He asked.

"Go on." She said.

"Well, this will make you sick, but it won't do much good for the rest of the females here, but with the right mix of materials, if added to food and drink, you can essentially give the men here whiskey dick." He said with a grin.

"What...?" She asked in confusion.

"Look, you mix some of a particular concoction into some food or wine and within an hour the man who consumes it will have a cock as hard as a boiled noodle and it won't be up for the better part of a day." He said maliciously.

"Won't the hotel be suspicious?" She asked incredulously.

Tinamoc laughed. "No man I've ever met will go to the owner of a hotel and loudly complain that he can't get hard. Every man there will keep his 'problem' entirely to himself I promise you. Oh sure over a few weeks or months this would definitely come out, but this only has to be seen to for a few days at most, I can't promise all of the reactions from frustrated patrons will be pleasant ones...but...given the options, which one do you want?" He asked. Illyana imagined the faces of the human men coming to the hotel intent on their personal urges being satisfied, only to find that their spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. She giggled like a school girl and said, "Get me the other thing too, we'll do both." She said. "Thank you."

"Entirely my pleasure." He said, "I used to do this to my stupid uncle every time he came to visit me in the hotel, I'd insist on a meal, slip him that stuff, and he'd always look angry and embarrassed when he left the next morning, so I know this will work." He laughed at the memory, "I'll be back soon." He said, and walked out, leaving Illyana to her own devices.

When he left the hotel the first thing he did was go to check the goings on in the warehouses, they were binding ladders together, using ropes and hand powered drills to either bind rungs between the long rails or to insert the rungs into matching holes before sealing them with glue. Dozens and dozens of ladders were already done, while stacks of individual ropes and hooks cut to length were arrayed around the warehouse. "How many do you have?" He asked bluntly.

"Enough for one wall." The elf in charge replied.

"Three more to go." Tinamoc said.

"Yes. Three more walls to go." The elf replied with a mix of hope and fear.

"Work quickly, because when it is time to go, what you have is what you work with and nothing more." Tinamoc reminded him.

"I know, we will." He said, and went back to wrapping rope over and under a small improvised rung, ensuring it was bound tightly to the long beam, then tending to its mate on the other side, the rapidity of his pace told Tinamoc that the idea of stopping had not even occurred to the elf captive, it was a sentiment he approved of as he thought about what he was going out to pick up for Illyana and the other permanent prisoners of the Golden Roan.