Warning bells ring in the distance, crowds stampede towards the docks, and armor clatters as soldiers march towards the wall. The Exodus Festival has been interrupted by a Xill assault, and Felix has called local leaders to the temple of Torag. Agatha, Danny, Jarven, Luddita, Khan, and Thalia sit around a table in Felix’s office. They are joined by Felix and two other humans: one, a woman in formal military attire; the other, a young man in fine clothes and jewelry.
“The walls hold 7,200 militia,” the woman says, “we’re still awaiting a report from the front lines on their numbers.”
“Thank you, Arissa,” Felix says, turning to the young man. “What about the evacuation, Symon?”
The aristocrat speaks up, “It is not going well. Rowboats are attempting to ferry civilians to the fleet, but the docks are in a frenzy. People are being trampled to death or thrown into the water, several have leapt onto departing rowboats and capsized them. Further, the last supply boat has stopped midway to the fleet. It’s expected to be carrying 50 tons of food. Last word was that a small crew planned to row out to meet it, but I’ve not heard whether they have been successful in fixing the delay.”
A crow flies through the window and lands on the table, dropping a rolled piece of parchment in front of Felix. He unrolls it and his face pales as he reads aloud:
“Three to four thousand xill. Walls lost in seconds. Soldiers attempting to block streets to buy time for retreat. Dwarf Quarter cornered, no word from Gammar. Elf Quarter in better shape but not retreating, are requesting assistance on a search & rescue mission. Please advise.”
Felix passes the parchment around the table for everyone to see. Arissa and Symon sit in stunned silence for a moment- things were not supposed to fall apart like this. They turn to the rest of the table, clearly waiting to hear Our Heroes’ thoughts on the crisis.