Patch 17 (Realm of Arkon) by G. Akella, Mark Berelekhis Page B

for the king, and each was doing their own thing in the meantime. There was Count Calle, the commander of the Royal Guard, sitting right across and explaining something quietly to a portly bald fellow with the face of a street vendor. The latter's harmless appearance belied his station—a dirty trick played by fate, for the name of Count Gel'ta, head of the Secret Chancellery, was whispered by humans and other races residing in Erantia exclusively in hushed tones and with great trepidation. Sitting to the left of the throne, the head of treasury was writing something into his notepad; the first minister was listening to Archmage Stavus, nodding his agreement periodically, and only the fighters—Duke Grasse and an unfamiliar colonel—were sitting quietly.
    He and Lars were clearly out of place. Altus had long retired from public life, and his friend, Champion of the Order of the Red Flame—a mercenary troop for all intents and purposes—were not among the royal advisers. And they wouldn't be here if not for what had happened...
    "Lars, do you think it's some lord colluding with Darkaan? Or is this an independent initiative by one of the Covens? The dark emanations and astral traces left in the ransacked villages is clear evidence of necromantic activity, but the survivors speak of demons," Altus nodded at the papers. They hadn't had time to speak before the council assembled, as the archmage rushed here from the Great Forest in response to the highest appeal (not even the king could flat out summon him). Lars had been busy preparing the operation—working out the details with his Foxes, as the order's knights were unofficially called.
    "Do me a favor and drop the emanations talk. It's enough to make my head swell, and I need it to eat," Lars looked up from his pile of papers. "On a serious note, I really don't care who's involved. Our job is to penetrate the portal blocked by those sanctimonious fools, destroy the scumbag who's causing all this shenanigans, and get the folks out of there. As to whether demons are involved or necromancers," he petted the hilt of his precious sword, "the Silver Tear doesn't care any more than I do."
    "Quit acting like a dimwitted jarhead," Altus frowned. "Nobody knows what we're dealing with here. I get that two million is a fair price for the risk, but I propose we at least throw some ideas around. Especially since, as you well know, building a portal from the demons to us cannot be done without divine intervention."
    "Fine, let's brainstorm," the master sighed. "We can probably rule out Ahriman—I doubt that the overlord would get mixed up with the Twice Cursed. He's more likely to rip out the heart of any lord who did. They'll sooner come to terms with the Untainted."
    "Then Untainted, then," Altus smile at the mental image of Father Sebastian whiling away an evening over a bottle of Arto with some demon ruler.
    "However, should some lord or prince secure the support of anyone from the Great Essence... If I had to guess, I'd say one of them has colluded with the Twice Cursed."
     
    King Ritar III Erast entered the Council hall at a brisk pace. Puckering his brow at the servant shouting out his arrival, he waved to the nobles as they leaped to their feet, bidding them to keep sitting, then went and took his own seat.
    "You may proceed, earl," the king looked at his first minister. "But be brief, we're short for time."
    Duke Galean opened the red folder on the table in front of him.
    "In the past month there have been four attacks on villages in Borderlands. The nature of these raids is nearly identical. The attackers are presumably demons. Those who resist are butchered, the rest are abducted through a portal. Four peasant eyewitnesses claim that the attacking force is roughly one thousand strong." The minister took a sip of water from the glass before him. "On the portal site the crown mages have discovered trace emanations of dark magic—"
    The king slammed his palm on the table:
    "We