"You forget your place, Wise Sister," growled Rughoi. "Arda put you on this ground for a reason. That is to offer spiritual guide. Leave the matters of the physical world to me." Perhaps it was wrong to ignore the advice of a medium of the spirits, but Rughoi felt he had to be firm. If he succumbed to honeyed words and vague promises, soon his advisors would be clamoring over themselves to contradict him. "Kutur, send a message to the Bythesea Archmage. The moment those humans arrive, I want the legion ready to march. We will have to strike Aredor quickly, while the peace with the Fertile Valley lasts." As much as he himself hated to admit it, the Kobold Empire must become a player on the world stage, with alliances and rivalries like any else. The slow game will have to pay off, because rabid nationalism and racist fervor is already beginning to stall and falter.

_______

Krakas nervously looked up. Rama had shouted something at the dracon warriors, and now one of them, the familiar one, began running towards them. He, with his sheer size and strength, bowled over Rama as if he were but air. In desperation, she began limping faster. If she through a miracle of Scen reached the city before a hulking dracon reached her, she would give herself to the service of Arda.