Part Sixty-nine
The Brown called a halt as they came within view of the ancient capitol. Coming from Stone Keep they had passed by its successor, a capitol of Men in the north in the old days that had been taken over by evil, won back, become desolate and now partly restored. Even in ruins, it was clear this had been the greater city. That other capitol only a fort to retreat to in a desperate time. Like the King's City in the south, this ancient place had been known for its great tall towers. Here had ruled the Man who was father to those brother-kings that ruled together from the towers of the Sun and Moon. Now one tower remained standing, though its walls had some gaps, and in its days of glory had not been associated with the Noon Sun or Night's Moon, but with Twilight and Sunset. The Kings of this city were descended from a people who had dwelled in an island nation in the sea to the west, which no longer existed, and spoke of that place as Elves did of sundered lands, and honored the west, where the sun took rest and where Elves were said to go in their twilight.
Now, even at midday, this City of Twilight seemed not a welcome and restful place of hope for the renewal of day with the next dawn, but a ruin radiating a dread presence of coming darkness and night terrors. The Brown sensed something else, not a spiritual decay, but something that might be detected with The Art. What Young Maple had said was true, there were Wizards who kept towers that polluted the land, even the water, and air around them. This place felt like that to the Brown. There was new foulness here. Some sorcery had been worked. It was always called sorcery when The Art was used for ill.
"Master Lannén, what do your Elven senses tell you?" The Brown asked the Elf in a quiet voice.
"I have a sense of dread. It is an evil place, no, I think not evil exactly, but a place of great sickness. There is little sign of animals as we come near the ruin, and those cries I hear seem tortured."
The Brown nodded and leaned on his wooden staff. Dior confirmed his own
observations. He looked to the few others with them, little Brandy, as
they called him, Cal the potter, and Leofheru of the country of the Horse
Lords. "We must leave our horses and food stores here," The
Brown instructed. "Take only your weapons, small flasks of water,
and what tools and warm garments you may have use of. I will give our
mounts what protection I can until we return."
The Rangers did as the Wizard instructed and tethered the horses to each
other and rearranged the contents of their packs. The Halfling among them
was armed only with two blades that would have served a Man as daggers,
but he had proven his mastery of their use in combat in his training.
Leo was likewise skilled with spears and carried two as well as a simple
bow, which he did not prefer to use unless ordered to do so. Cal preferred
the bow and carried with him a Mannish longbow, which had belonged to
his father, but he hung a sword from his belt and had trained much with
it since joining the Rangers and was confident he could wield it if combat
in close quarters was called for. Dior was much older than the Men or
Halfling and had mastered equally the sword and bow. Like his squad mates,
he was able to use those weapons he had brought to the fort with him and
the intricate carving upon his bow and the jewels upon his sword showed
that his family, if not considered nobles themselves, had supplied nobility
with many fine textiles and been well rewarded. The Brown was a Wizard
who kept a sword only for ceremonial use and so his only obvious implement
for defense or offense was his knobby staff, but as Dale had learned,
The Brown had power even when deprived of it.
"Come. Until we know what Art or sorcery has been worked here, we must consider this a befouled place."
They continued toward the old tower on foot. Brandy went after The Brown, the two Men walked beside each other, and Dior walked behind, turning now and then to watch their rear.
They moved slowly, and even setting out with the ruins in sight, the shadows of the towers had stretched out to meet them before they neared the first ruined outbuilding, and when they stood upon the waste and rubble itself it was nearing twilight.
"There are Orcs about," Dior said, "I would know it with my sword sheathed, from the stench of them."
Brandy and the two Men trusted that their Elven companion, being older than they may have had some past experience with Orcs to know their scent. "It is true the place smells foul," Brandy agreed at a whisper.
"It is sorcery as much as anything," The Brown replied sharply, "tie a scarf, or some torn piece from a garment across your face and moisten it with a bit of water from your flasks. It may feel strange, but it will enable you to draw cleaner air as you breathe." The Brown waited as the Rangers prepared their masks. He drew a previously prepared mask from within his grey cloak, which had belonged to Tsuki, and held it before his face.
They continued, even more wary, as they walked in shadow and found various foul pools amid the ruined stone buildings and overgrown streets.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Brandy whispered, "I feel we are being watched."
"We are," The Brown said, "but let us concern ourselves with that tower."
As they approached, a harsh voice called out in challenge from the darkness before the tower. "You face our force if you wish get to tower."
"Orcs," Dior hissed. "They can barely even master the speech of Men."
The Brown could sense the weakened state of these Orcs. They would best his small squad of Rangers only by some stealth or attack in slumber. He made his voice loud and called out. "You will let us pass. You will not hinder us. Retreat and tend your wounds."
There was a skittering in the dark as some Orcs moved, but a few remained on the stones that had been a road. "If I could only see them, I could pick them off with my bow," Cal said.
"Orcs are cowardly and hide themselves in shadows."
"That may be true, but these Orcs are weak, sickly. They challenge only in hope of dying quickly in battle, rather than slowly," The Brown said, "Dispatch them or avoid them as you will; our business is within the tower!"
Some of the Orcs roared, and of those some coughed with the attempt; they were angered that this Wizard knew and betrayed their aim. These ones had suffered the sickness caused by the Sky's wizardry and his experimental cures and now would be content to be put out of misery, but had just enough pride remaining that they would not outright beg for their deaths. In Orc culture, there was no such thing as suicide, only throwing oneself carelessly into a battle that could not be won or dying in an attack that brought death to enemies as well.
"You have to fight your way through us!" One of the Orcs called out.
Another said, "We fight here!"
Torches were lit and planted in the ground, and one was thrown to a pool slicked with oil where it caused a fire upon the foul water.
"Stay together!" The Brown ordered, "To the tower!"
The four Rangers charged, meaning to ignore as many Orcs as possible and reach the tower. Even if some wished to slay Orcs, they understood their orders; the Brown had made it clear the greater threat was within and that these Orcs should not be considered a threat, even if allowed to survive for the time being.
Within the Tower, the Sky was warned that his tower was under attack. He had not been able to sense or see the coming of the Brown. This bothered him, but either by the Brown's will, or Ranger deception, they had come upon him in secret. Now, not seeking confrontation here, the Sky began destroying what signs of his work were about the tower in haste, for he meant to find time to escape the Brown.
Below, in the firelight, the Rangers could see the Orcs had sores upon them and appeared weak. They had not all met with Orcs before, but they had heard many tales, and official Ranger reports confirmed by various sources, that Orc-kind had strange arts of healing unlike that of Elves or Men and severe wounds that would have been painstakingly restored to whole flesh by immortal Elves or been crippling if not lethal to Men, were patched or bound with strange metal fixtures screwed to the bone or pierced through remaining flesh and skin to draw it closed. As such they expected to find Orcs horrific in appearance and alike to corpses patched and sent again into battle, but even prepared so, they understood the signs of sickness for what they were. Sometimes Men saw similar signs in the very aged, or in towns invested by plague and vermin in dark times.
Their hair, thin to begin with in Northerners and often slick with grime had fallen away in clumps, as if from an old dog with mange. Their skin, already Orcishly pale and cast in hues different from the other races, had sores upon it. Some appeared like burns. Many of these Orcs had lost at least one hand and fought the Rangers with blades fixed to the stumps of their arms.
The Brown paid them little head, having quickly come to understand their diseased state, and made his way past them to the tower, intent on finding the Wizard there before he could destroy all evidence of his works.
Dior could find no pity for the Orcs, but was stricken with utter horror. He stood as if paralyzed by poison, but there were no darts upon him and no blade had touched him in the course of this battle. He staggered, lost conscious focus and retched upon the ground in most un-Elvish fashion, and he feared, un-Ranger-like fashion.
The other three Rangers stayed close together. They had trained for battle and practiced maneuvers and as their Squad leader, Brandy called out the commands to change formation or use certain manner of weaponry. Being Squad leader did not only mean he doled out food and chores within their cabin, but that he was responsible for his Squad in battle. Brandy saw Dior stumble away from them and called to the remaining two, "To Dior! Protect him. This is a place too foul for Elf-kind!"
Cal and Leo rushed to Dior without question, Leo going first and then
Cal walking in a side-step to keep Leo's back and Brandy both in sight.
Brandy's legs were short, but he moved them fast enough to keep pace with
the Mens' strides, so that they would not have to fear him falling behind.
"Cal, behind you!" he called just as Cal called out to warn
Brandy of Orcs near his position.
Leo reached Dior just as Orcs came upon him with their crude weapons;
if these Orcs were in the service of a Wizard, he was one who cared little
for arming his minions. Cal's sword was drawn up quickly and the bronze
Orc-blade broke against it, a shard of metal slicing Dior's face. Brandy
blocked the attacks aimed at him, keeping the Orcs' blades and hooks busy
while Leo's spears found their flesh.
Arrows came upon them from a distance, Dior heard them fly through the darkness and called out warning as he drew the ally nearest to him toward the ground. The effort saved Leo, but Cal was struck even as he attempted to dodge and shield himself with his arms.
"We are under fire and too visible in firelight," Brandy called, "fly to the tower!"
The others ran, Leo guarding the retreat of Cal and Dior, and Cal and Dior each dispatching several of the Orcs that yet blocked passage to the doors. Brandy attacked the Orcs close to him with crippling stabbing and slicing at the rears of their legs, and then he also ran.
The doors were open. Cal ran through first. Dior turned and shot an arrow toward the Orcs giving chase to Brandy, but the arrow failed to strike any target. Leo pushed Dior inside and Brandy soon ran through, spinning as he ran and grasping Leo's cloak to draw him behind the cover of the door as a volley of Orc arrows fell against the doors.
Leo closed the doors and put his weight against them. He did not suppose they would hold long, as the wood was ancient and damp, but he found the bar and swung it down into the latch.
Brandy felt for his flint and a stub of candle and worked to give the light. "Can everyone still walk?" He asked as he surveyed the interior. Dior stood shaking, with beads of perspiration on his brown and seemed rather sickly and unelven. Cal sat on the second step of a tall stone staircase curving along the interior of the tower and prodding at the arrow yet embedded in his arm. Leo stood staring into the dark interior.
"There may be more of them inside, here," Leo whispered.
"We must stay alert of course," Brandy said, "but I think they should have all run out to give battle, or pursued The Brown. I suppose he would have gone up those stairs to find the Wizard. Dior? Cal? Are you well?"
"Forgive me," Dior whispered.
Leo moved closer to their Elven companion. "You saved my life," he said.
Brandy saw that Leo's brown hair had been cut by some blade.
Dior sighed. He accepted his role within the squad, but saving the life of one Man who always smelled of horse, smoke, and sweat did not seem a great deed to him. Weakened Orcs should have been easy prey and he was shamed to have been overcome.
Leo did not fail to note that Dior's pained expression shifted to disgust for a moment, but their squad had become used to Dior's queer swings of temperament from gaiety to disdain and he refused to be offended. "I am grateful," Leo told him.
"I was not even thinking. I should have done more."
Leo shrugged and offered Dior the mask he had been using. The Elf looked at it for a moment, wondering on the rightness of putting the mask to his face after it had touched the Man's mouth, but he was not unintelligent, even if he was somewhat proud, and he knew the air was too foul for him. Dior put the cloth to his face.
Leo gave a look to the doors, from which pounding sounds came, and then stooped to quickly fashion a proper torch and a new mask.
"Cal?" Brandy called.
"I do not know if it may have been poisoned, but it hurts a great deal. I cannot get it out on my own."
"I will tend him," Dior offered. He wiped his face with his sleeve and then sheathed his sword.
"We will aid you in getting further up the stairs, and then Leo and I shall go on, while you tend Cal's wound. If you see or hear that the Orcs approach from below, come quickly after us. Even if his arm is injured, Cal should still be able to climb the stairs."
"Do not give me…" Cal began, but even as he began to make his request, Dior had reached him, grasped the arrow and wrenched it from his arm. Cal screamed, and the sound echoed from the stone walls. There was near silence, and then ugly sounds of amused Orcs from outside the doors.
"I said we should get you both up the stairs first," Brandy said sharply.
"It had to come out, and he wanted no warning."
Cal's eyes and mouth were wide, as if he still screamed, but only a tiny hiss sounded from his throat.
"Shall I seal the wound?" Leo asked, brandishing his torch.
"It will be worse if the wound is seared closed and we find he needs a remedy for poison. Go up the stair. I will wrap the wound tight for now and Cal will have further care when we find The Brown."
"Hurry then, all of you," Brandy said, and then led the way up the stairs.
The Brown continued making his way up the stairs, through the levels of the tower, with floors of aged wood patched by newer construction. It was clear a Wizard had dwelled here. The Brown's speed was slowed by many Wizard and Orc traps, which he was obliged to take time in disarming, before moving on, or else fall prey. He heard the Man scream below, but continued his work.
Brandy found the chambers which the Brown had preceded him through. There were food stores and supplies, but nothing he saw that indicated Wizardry or plots. Leo took a potato, but Brandy shook his head and then gave a nod to signal they should move up the next stair.
If the Halfling was passing up food, perhaps it was unwise to trust it, Leo thought. He gave a listen at the stair he had come from to see if Cal and Dior yet followed and hearing now signs of struggle, continued after Brandy.
The Brown came to a room that was clearly a chamber in which a Wizard had kept his study, and in the same instant, realized there were tomes and scrolls burning within the fireplace and that candlewax had purposely been poured over further tomes on the desk and it also set aflame. The Brown was torn, between saving the notes and pursuing the Wizard who had collected and made them. He made his decision quickly, knowing either choice was a gamble and it was not certain all the plans would be learned in either case. He called out loudly to the Rangers to come after him and put out the fire, and then continued to the top of the tower.
The Brown was a full Wizard and had been for man generations of Men and so he knew there were five Wizards, all sent to these lands from across the sea, but he had never beheld either of the Blue Wizards, as they had been dispatched at an earlier time, and to the eastern regions of this land, while his work had kept him in the west. That was how they had been assigned, two to the east, two to the west and one to stand as head to the order with right to travel between, though he had come to make his base in the west. He looked on the other Wizard and knew he was the The Sky Blue Wizard; the Brown even knew two other names this Wizard had collected.
The Sky looked on the Wizard who had found him. They met each other's gaze. The Sky perceived in his knowledge what the Rangers had not in some months. The Wizard who had worn the brown now wore more grey than brown and by his actions was not one who hid away in forests making study of plants and animals, but one who obviously took interest in Men, Elves, and their politics. The actions necessary to take a new color were sometimes subtle ones. The Wizard who faced the Sky was The Grey.
It did not matter. His notes were burning and he had his means of escape prepared. The Grey would not stop him. The Sky reached out from the basket suspended from his balloon and cut the mooring line.
"Stop!" The Grey called out.
The words did nothing to affect the balloon or its passenger, with the line cut, the hot air within the balloon rose, carrying the basket and Wizard with it. The Grey watched and then turned and descended the stair for the tower rooms.
The four Rangers were there. The room was thick with smoke and smelled of burnt parchment, pulp and leather, but there were no longer flames. "The Wizard that was here has fled," The Grey spoke. "I will spare a few moments to search any of his notes which remain, but then I must give pursuit and quickly. I must then leave it to you Rangers to learn what you may before dawn, and at that time depart here with all you have learned and make directly for Stone Keep with what news you have. Do not trust others, but give your message directly to Barad. Do not tarry and confront any Orcs here, and do not remove anything, even books and scrolls. This is a place of Wizardry and must wait for one qualified to attend matters here."
The Rangers agreed, understanding that they were unqualified to understand matters between Wizard Order, and knowing they could not read the notes they had already seen, even if they should want to. They were content to follow orders as the Wizard commanded them to carefully separate charred sheaves of paper or to fan the smoke toward the window in the stone wall.
The Art had never been this Wizard's strongpoint, even when he had worn another color. Both who had been White had shown some aptitude for it, though one had little use for it but in crafting fireworks with which to entertain and the other in creating weapons of war. The Sky had been rumored most knowledgeable in The Art. This Grey did not expect he had the time to give himself the task of learning all the plans made by the Blue Wizards by searching the remaining notes and sketches. Any Wizard should have been intelligent enough to take the most dangerous items with him, or wait to be certain of their destruction. The Grey did not expect to find all the answers here.
He did not need all the answers, yet. He gave himself only enough time to gain an inkling of what region the Sky would flee to and what manner of Art he had created here that affected his slave Orcs and fouled the earth so. What little The Grey understood made him fear. In any case, the largest matter had been already been settled, so far as the Grey was concerned. It was one of the Blue Wizards, and he had clearly employed Orcs and worked Art and sorcery. The enemy, or one of them, was known.
"Do not stay here long," he told the Rangers, "If you run short of what food or water you have brought with you, leave sooner than dawn. Tell Barad it was one of the Blue Wizards here, known as The Sky. Say that he has fled and that I pursue. I hope we may meet again one day. It has not been bad, working with you."
"That was most queer," Brandy said as the Wizard hurried down the stairs to chambers below.
"Wizard business," Dior said weakly. He looked barely better high in the tower and near the window than he had below. It was true, Brandy supposed, that Elves were creatures immortal, but tied to the land in some way. They suffered greatly where lands, air and waters were fouled, yet, they had some gift in purifying unclean things for others. The very waste that came from their bodies could not be said to be quite foul or harmful to other beings, or so Brandy had heard.
"Cal, Dior, rest now. I will remain near these stairs to be certain no Orcs come upon us. Leo, I believe we will have no luck trying to decipher text, seek any drawings or sketches that remain. We will all have a look at them later and make copies if we can, or fix the images in mind to draw out later. If we can, I would have us leave before dawn. This place is unhealthy, and though the Orcs may be braver in the dark, I do not doubt our own bravery at all."
"You should rest also," Dior said quietly.
"Perhaps, if you and Cal seem well, Leo and I shall have a short rest before going down the stair to face what Orcs may remain. Follow my orders now."
Dior bowed and then sat on the floor beside Cal. Brandy had been voted their squad leader, and thus far, all were agreed he had done well in the position. Yet, sometimes, Dior felt embarrassed in the presence of other Elven Rangers, when he was seen taking orders from one so young and a Halfling.
Annavala found her people. She felt cold and exhausted, and had eaten only a little that she foraged during her flight. "Where is My Lord?" she asked them, the moment she was found.
The answer came, Lord Khyarhrondo had gone with some of his Rómendar to meet with Lord Forhrondo to discuss battle plans.
"No," Annavala whimpered. She feared her grandfather would be assassinated before battle even began.
"What has happened to you? Did you escort the Priestess to the Wizard and return already?"
"The outcasts have her. The Priestess is not kept as a Ward, but as their prisoner, and I was also. The Outcasts held me to keep me from My Lord. I believe Forhrondo will slay him."
Some laughed. "Now, that is hardly new to us. The two Lords among our people have long feuded, but are we not all united in our effort to defeat the abominations? Do you have so little faith in your Lord that he requires you to protect him. Some of our best warriors are with him now. Those Outcasts have been too loyal to the Wizard alone. There seems no proof that Forhrondo even intended you harm and the Priestess is not really our concern."
"But…"
"Remain with us. We have received some news. The Sea has received the message he waited for. We are to attack the abominations here, where they have gathered, and soon, and drive them back across the river, so the Sea's plans may best work against them."
"It may mean fighting these western Elves," another said, "but they are decadent and take abominations into their camp. Perhaps they are so twisted now that we should put them out of their misery as well."
Annavala felt sick. That was the speech of Forhrondo's kind. Even her own kin did not believe her. They would even slay Elves. That was not why they had come. They had come to fight the abominations, because they were vile soulless things created by sorcery and could only spoil and kill. Yet, even that did not seem entirely certain to Annavala anymore.
"I thank you for giving me news. Of course I will join in the battle. When will it come?"
"Very soon. We are only awaiting further orders."
"I shall go now to prepare myself," Annavala said firmly. She did believe battle could be a glorious thing, but battle should really be between brave, strong warriors with honor…there should be no massacre or abducting of young females. Was that not what abominations did? What they meant to fight against? Perhaps there was no glory to be found, even if fighting abominations. If the strong merely slew the weak, was they glorious?
Annavala did not feel safe among her own kindred. She went into the wood again, to prepare herself. When the battle came, she would find her grandfather. She would make him hear her.
The Sea had withdrawn to his secret retreat. He sat within the tent, designed to simulate the appearance of local rock formations from without, and scried past the pale purple surface of his seeing stone to the spark at its center. He could see his Rómendar in their war preparations, and then with concentration, his shifted the focus of the stone, which Men had associated with the Watchpost of Wind Hill, and saw his young ward coming to him with her escort of transfigured Dark Elves. The Sea smiled slightly, and then the images changed abruptly. The Sky was calling.
"There is a new Grey."
The Sea pondered this development. In their years they had seen Elves and Men they were to aid in the east overcome and overlorded. Yes, the Overlord had fallen, but this King who claimed the throne in the west was not known or trusted in the east, and there was no one leader remaining there that could unite the people, and no concensus among the leaders in the east that they would support this king so many in the west followed. Those in the west would not see it, only see their victory, but there was a power void. Many proclaimed it to be a new age of Man, but Men, with few notable exceptions, had proven weak. Yes, a few noble Men and their armies had caused a glorious distraction that allowed the Overlord to be defeated in stealth, but those same kingdoms in their arrogance could not see beyond their own borders set in ancient times, and would call all Men who were not of their people 'wild' and 'savage'. Men would not soon unite east and west, and if the lands were not united, there would only be further war. Without a Dark Lord, Men would show their own darkness and war against each other, as they had for ages.
The White had thought to use the Overlord and usurp his power and eventually dominate the east, but he had made mistakes. He had relied on slaves and discounted powerful forces in assessing his potential enemies. The Grey, now the White, thought to leave these lands, his own task completed; the other Wizards knew this. He would leave Men to their fate, even if it meant ages of meaningless battle against each other. He would leave them to learn at their pathetic slow pace. This new Grey was a complication.
The Sea and Sky had thought to employ the Rómendar to unite east and west under Elven power and under their guidance. The Orcs would be utterly exterminated and then treaties and pacts of unification would be worked out with Men and Elves. The Dwarves and Halflings would follow. The leaders in the east would do as the Blue Wizards counseled.
The timing of their plots was of utmost importance. They would have wished to act after the present White had already departed, but it would add perhaps half a year or more to their schedule. They could have waited, in secret, but the Orcs began leaving the tunnels and mountains sooner than they could have anticipated. Now, things were closing in. The Orcs were abroad and not within the mines. There was a new Grey, and a Wizard of the west involved in politics would work against their plans. The Grey would likely not be an ally to Orcs, but he would likely be a fast ally to the Mannish Kingdoms and advise them to continue their efforts to forge their own pacts with leaders in the east and southern regions, even if such efforts be slow and imperfect and leave time and opportunity for revolt and war.
Peace was the ultimate goal. They must have peace and Men were to slow to bring it about on their own. The Kingdoms of the west were in danger of being overrun by Orcs they had thought defeated. One could never be satisfied to destroy almost all Orcs. All Orcs had to be defeated. Just two of their kind could quickly breed an army.
The Sea was not unaware that the Orcs were changing. This worried him greatly. Now they were at their most dangerous, masterless and able to breed in the older way as well as the new. They were just intelligent enough to suspect they were threatened and now they were on guard. The cursed abdominal creatures had left the mines and now sought to parlay with Wood Elves who should have shot them on sight only a year before.
Their perfect plan was being disturbed by a small group of bungling Rangers!
The Sea had seen them, that…muse the White should have slain rather than released with so much knowledge and power. The Vale Elf spoiled by Orcs, who somehow used his freakish nature now to advantage. The Ancient, Mysterious Elven Warrior who leant to much knowledge and strength to their cause. The Scholar whose knowledge of the east and its languages threatened their plans. Even their own messenger who had somehow resisted compulsion! And those who aided them. The brooding Elven Prince who now forgot to brood. The diplomatic Elven Princess and her arrows. The cross-dressing Grey Elf. The Witch, and others among her people.
Now even that girl of the Rómendar and the Priestess were straying from their purpose.
The Sea fixed his mind and Setsugekka and saw her climb the steps with her escort before and behind. Soon, she would be in his control again. The Sea would have no others of his ilk challenging his mandate. He had been dispatched to these lands to give aid to the east, to seek certain peoples, and to bring peace, and he would do it, and no wandering Moon guardian straying from his own purpose would upset his plans.
The former White had been a powerful Wizard and mastered the secrets of ceremonial magic, much Art, something of the minds of Men, and even mechanical devices, the Grey understood much of the minds of Men, much of spirits, demons and animals, and something of the Art, the Brown had known all of animals and plants and how they or their parts could be of use, The Sky had mastered The Art almost entirely and knew much of mechanical devices, but among other things, the Sea had mastered much knowledge of spirits, demons and fell beasts and knew summoning and binding of such creatures.
No other Wizard and no spirit would defeat him. The Priestess would come under his control again. He had been dispatched by gods and he would fulfill his duties to the end!
The Sea concentrated and sent out a message in reply to The Sky. "Mind
the Grey. Use your Art to drive the Orcs west of the mountains back into
the mines. Do not concern yourself about the rest. I have an army at my
disposal and I am preparing strong defenses that will put a stop to these
fools if they continue to challenge our plans."