FSE

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6th Day of Nova

128 __th_ I.E._

A bird perched itself on the window sill of Xellik's private quarters aboard the Sytarel's Wrath. It was a large raven, and when Xellik sat up he could tell it had been summoned by some form of magic. In its talons, it clutched at a thick, sealed scroll case.

It must be a note from Cinra, Xellik thought. He scryed the room quickly to make sure that the succubus wouldn't happen to be using an invisibility spell to spy on him, then sprang up and retrieved the scroll. The raven cawed once then vanished in a puff of smoke.

I didn't know Cinra knew magic. Bytej must have prepared him with a few summoning scrolls before he left Zugrul.

Xellik popped the top of the case open and turned it upside down, letting the rolled up parchment fall neatly into his hands. He crushed the metal casing in his hands and tossed it out the window, ensuring that no one could find it and determine what it had contained.

Warlord;

I have followed my quarry around Zugrul and back into the heart of the Temple of Earth in the jungle. She seems to be searching for something not unlike the Emerald we retrieved there previously. I have questioned the scholars she had been speaking to, but none could give me answers as to her current whereabouts. I'm going to continue the search however, and I'll keep an eye on Zugrul while you are away.

Cinra

Xellik crumpled the parchment and ignited it before casting the ashes into the winds. He brought his hand up to a deep green colored emerald that hung from a pendant around his chest. When he nudged it, the stone glimmered with a warm magic.

Something like the Emerald... could such a thing even exist? Xellik wondered. Bytej said there was only one of its kind in the world. Could there be another relic like the Emerald that the succubus wants?

"Warlord!" a voice echoed from a tube next to the window. "We've spotted land, and our maps confirm that it's Jha'zal. What are your orders?"

Speaking back into the tube, Xellik replied, "Bring us to a full stop and anchor us off shore. I'll be taking the landing party with me."

"At once, sir!" the voice replied, and this was followed by the sound of the rune engines dying down and the feeling of the ship starting to slow.

Xellik shut the window to his cabin and moved to his armor rack next to the door. He had a spiked, blackened steel suit of half-plate armor that he could easily slip into and buckle up. He took his time putting the greaves and boots on first before getting into the breastplate. He slid his hands into the gauntlets, feeling the smooth tiger fur lining on the inside rub against his skin, and headed outside.

Though this was to be a diplomatic meeting between him and the Darkpaw leadership, he didn't want to appear weak and careless in front of the gnolls by being unprotected.

Greenix was already on the ship's deck, looking longingly at the continent's shore. The gnoll was wearing a more modest set of clothing compared to what he had with him on Rhavik, and he had taken a set of daggers that had been offered to him by one of the orc's smithies.

"We got here so fast," Greenix said when he noticed Xellik standing nearby. "It took me a month by sailboat to reach Rhavik, and that was with favorable conditions. I can't believe we made it in such a short time."

"The rune engines are my engineers' latest creations, designed entirely to deploy our fleet before the Coalition realizes we're mobilizing," Xellik told him. "I hear they're working on something new that will help us in the third phase of our campaign. Something that will change the face of warfare forever."

"I look forward to their results."

Xellik nodded his head, and had to admit that he felt no small amount of excitement either. He hadn't so much as seen a blueprint on what his top engineers were working on, but they continually assured him that it would be a powerful weapon.

"We're heading in land now. Are you ready?" Xellik asked after a moment.

"Just the two of us?" Greenix asked. "Aren't you concerned for your own safety?"

"I'm never worried about my safety. I am Sytarel's Chosen, and none would dare attack me," Xellik replied. He gestured behind him. "However, we're not alone. A few of my tribe will be joining us as well."

Greenix looked over the orc's shoulders to see Bytej, Haij, Napir, and Sorda standing nearby, waiting for them. Everyone except Bytej was wearing a full set of armor and carrying sheathed weapons at their hips.

"Let's get going," Xellik said, and turned to head up to join the rest of the away party.

"Are we taking the boats?" Greenix asked once they were together. "It's still a long walk in land to get to my people's village, and that armor looks--"

Xellik nodded to Bytej while the gnoll was talking. Greenix was interrupted as the shaman grabbed his head, pressing the bottom of his palm against the gnoll's forehead. With closed eyes and a few words of power, the shaman opened a large portal that swallowed the party whole.

After a couple seconds, the orcs and Greenix reappeared in the plains far in land. The gnoll barked as the stumbled away from Bytej's grasp and spat a few curses in gnollish.

"What in the Pantheon's name was that!?" Greenix spat. "Ugh, I have orc sweat all over my face..." Sorda and Haij were laughing at him, but Bytej remained stone faced and took a step back. The ghost of a smile kissed his lips before it faded again.

"Is that your village?" Xellik asked, pointing behind the gnoll. A sea of tents stretched out across the rolling plains before them. They were made out of what Xellik could only guess was cow hide. Pillar's of smoke rose from holes in their tops. Gnolls were moving around, carrying great sacks full of food and other supplies. The sulfur of a forge filled the orc's nostrils and his extra senses could detect the aura of death magic permeating the camp, not unlike that which surrounded Rothorn.

"Huh?" Greenix looked over his shoulder, following Xellik's finger. "Uh... yeah, that is." He scratched the top of his head, surprised that Bytej's magic had been able to bring them to the camp without having seen it with his own eyes.

"Welcome to the Desolate Plains," Bytej said as they started to walk towards the camp.

"Where did it get that name?" Haij asked.

"During the war with the dwarves, the land was ripped apart by the magics and siege engines that were unleashed," Greenix replied, dusting himself off and running to catch up to them. "It's made most of the land useless for farming or tending to cattle." He gestured off into the hills, pointing Xellik and the other orcs towards some rubble. "Siege engines dot the landscape. We salvage what we can but most of it is useless to us."

Herds of animals grazed on the grass that grew on the unblemished parts of the land. A few gnoll shepherds were out in the fields, tending to sheep and cattle. When they spied the orcs moving towards the camp, they began shouting something to one another, until their voices were carried into the village itself.

"I'm surprised the gnolls could survive the war if they lived like this..." Xellik said as he entered the camp. The village couldn't have housed more than a hundred citizens, including women and children.

"Keep in mind," Greenix said, "This isn't our home. We migrated here shortly after I was sent to Rhavik. Most of our people live in a city further into the continent."

"They're a lot like our Blackhorn allies. Their necromancy made up for their smaller numbers, and dragged that war out for years," Bytej explained. "Every enemy they felled was another added to their numbers, and every one of them that died came back to rejoin the battle."

Xellik nodded his head, trusting that the shaman's information was correct. Bytej had spent a great deal of time studying in the Zugruli libraries for weeks when they had first taken the city for themselves. Though the number of books was few, they had a wealth of information that he otherwise would not have known, including world maps and general world histories.

"That what I'm hoping will happen once they join us. Let us hope that the gnolls are as prepared as this Opalla should have them."

"Indeed."

Greenix cut in and said, "Do not doubt my seer's abilities. She'll have the tribe ready to move at a moment's notice, as soon as the Chieftain gives his go ahead."

"Your brother?" Xellik asked.

The gnoll hesitated to answer, but eventually muttered, "Yes."

Greenix's reaction at the mention of his sibling intrigued Xellik. He stroked his chin as he thought about how he might exploit a schism between the two gnolls.

A group of warriors approached them, meeting them just inside the camp. At the head of the gnoll's armed entourage were two individuals: one was a female wearing brown robes with red tribal patterns on it, with beige colored fur covering her muzzle from beneath her cowl. The other was a male with pale, yellow fur with splotches of brown. He wore a harness and a leather kilt. A pair of sickles hung from loops on his belt.

The male spoke for the group of gnolls, "Welcome back, Greenix. When I heard you were here already, I suspected that you were coming home empty handed. I'm surprised you had any progress at all." His voice was harsh and rough, and he finished speaking with a growl.

Greenix bowed his head, then stepped away from the orcs to stand beside the gnoll. "Warlord, I present to you Chieftain Fippy Sabertooth of the Darkpaw tribe." He bowed again and stepped away from his brother, melting into the crowd so he wouldn't be noticed. Xellik could feel his sharp eyes upon him as he moved away.

"So you're the new whelp ruling over the orcs," Fippy remarked. "I was wondering when a male would take over."

Xellik crossed his arms. "I'm not a whelp, Chieftain. The former High Priestess was too busy with her face in Sytarel's breasts to take notice of the world around her and how much it had changed. I merely did everyone a favor by offing that old cow and changing the orcish kingdom."

"You're nothing but an idealistic whelp," Fippy said, snarling. "But I suppose I'm just as bad, since I wish to join with your army."

The female finally spoke, leaning on her staff. The sound of her voice implied that she was an older individual. "Shall we find somewhere more comfortable to talk? I should much like to sit down."

"Of course, Greatmother," Fippy said reverently. He beckoned everyone to follow him and said, "This way. We can discuss things while we walk."

Fippy led the orcs through the village full of gnolls. The dogmen stopped everything to watch the foreigners following their leader. Xellik noted that armed guards were taking up positions around them, effectively surrounding them in a wall of steel.

"The Darkpaw tribe have been on this land for generations," Opalla began, speaking slowly as she hobbled along. Fippy kept a hand on her back, and seemed to be guiding her. "I am the last one alive that has seen the rise and fall of our once great country, back when we were on the Island."

"Are you referring to Yasuragi?" Haij asked. A chorus of growls rose up from the soldiers around them, and he jumped. "What?"

"We do not use that name here," Fippy snarled.

"When I was young and my family lived on the island, we called it 'Splitpaw', after the gnoll who united our tribes into a single nation," Opalla explained. She coughed a few times and came to a stop until the wracking subsided. "The ursar were primitive. They lived off the land, and were nothing more than nomads. We separated their clans into different camps, preventing them from rising against us. Of course, things didn't turn out that well."

"We had to flee our nation. Those damn bears... they were just a bunch of savages yet our country still fell to them." Rage burned behinds Fippy's eyes, a sparkle of a flame that would not be extinguished. Xellik wondered how long the gnoll had been alive, and how long he had held such a grudge against them.

"Did it end there?" Xellik asked.

"No!" Fippy whirled around, baring his sharp, yellowed teeth. "When we had the dwarves on the run in that first miserable war, that damn psion and his order of mangy bears came to Jha'zal to aid them. He killed my father! And when we tried to invade Olaraa from within, to pay them back for the blood they spilled here, he sent me to my grave!"

"How long have you been undead, Chieftain?" Xellik asked.

"Four years too many," Fippy replied as a sudden soberness over came him. "I cannot feel anything, neither the ground beneath my feet nor the warm touch of a female. Everything tastes like ash, and though I can breath, I constantly feel as if I am being suffocated. I am still not used to it." He ran his fingers over his muzzle. "I cannot sleep anymore. Do you know how much you all take such a simple pleasure for granted? If I could do anything to that psion, I would kill him twice over and resurrect his body to serve me for this eternity of damnation."

The party resumed their walk through the village, though in silence now. Xellik was lost in his thoughts, thinking about how he could use this new information to his advantage. Fippy's offers seemed to make more sense when examined within the context of the gnoll's desires.

"We are here," Fippy said as he stood before a long log cabin that was constructed in the middle of a circle of tents. "When we moved here from deeper in the continent, we built this to serve as a meeting place between us. Opalla knew you would come to us, eventually, so we didn't need to travel much further than this."

"Let's go inside," Opalla said. "Come and rest your legs. I'm sure you must be tired from your long journey across the sea."

Xellik turned to Haij and Sorda and said, "You two, wait here. Me and Bytej will take care of things." He went inside before either of them could voice a protest.

The cabin was nothing more than four wooden walls and a roof built around an unblemished field of grass. There was no furniture or luxuries of any kind to be found. Just a wide open space full of grass with a fire pit in the center. In one corner, a large number of gnolls, both women and children, were working to stitch together clothes and canvas bags. There was a large pile of such products stacked against the far wall, and a few pups were working to organize them.

When they noticed Fippy enter with his guests, they left without a word being spoken between them. The females gathered up the children and left out the door that Xellik and the others had come in.

Fippy led Opalla to the fire pit and eased her to the ground. He set her staff to the side, then took a seat beside her. Xellik and Bytej took spots opposite of them.

The cabin smelled of stale smoked meats, and judging by the fresh ashes in the fire pit, Xellik assumed that the gnolls had been working tirelessly to prepare supplies for their journey. He had to admit that he felt a bit of admiration for their determination. They were preparing to mobilize even before their leaders had a chance to discuss things. He glanced in the direction of the old crone, and wondered just how much influence her visions had in the tribe's decisions.

Opalla removed the cowl of her robes and looked at Xellik with dull, milky white eyes. "There, that's better. Shall we continue where we left off?" She seemed to be staring past Xellik, and the orc had the urge to look behind him in case there was someone there.

"There's one thing I wish to know, Warlord," Fippy began, "Why would you so readily offer us a chance to attack Xenaria? It's easy to assume from Opalla's visions that your Legion's ambitions do not lie on Splitpaw."

Xellik waved his hand dismissively. "This is nothing more than a couple day detour. I have the best ships in the world, with the greatest maneuverability and the strongest weapons my engineers have to offer. Between naval bombardments and your forces on the ground, Xenaria will fall in short order." He folded his hands and dropped them into his lap. "If it will guarantee your allegiance, then I will not deny such a small favor."

In truth, Xellik thought, _I sympathize with the gnolls' desires to retake their homeland. It's not unlike our own reasons for going into Muriaj._He would never share such thoughts with the others. Orcs considered sympathy to be for the weak.

"The reclamation of our homeland is no small favour, young Warlord," Opalla said in a raspy voice as another coughing fit seemed imminent. "We have waite generations to strike at the ursar."

"Why have you not simply attacked sooner?" Bytej asked.

Fippy fidgeted from where he was squatting, and his toes twitched as their claws scratched at the dirt. "Sadly, there have been many conflicts among the various gnoll tribes since that time, and the problems with Olaraa to the north and Altair to the south have made it difficult to muster our forces." His muzzle wrinkled into a snarl. "Many of my counterparts in the other tribes fear being attacked by Olaraa should we try to move against the bears." Fippy frowned, seemingly displeased by his words. "We also have no naval forces to speak of. Any ships we have would be sunk by Olaraa's forces, if they decided to mobilize."

"Understandable," Xellik remarked. "I hear the ursar and the dwarves are close to one another. Your allies' fears are justified."

"Yes well, that's all in the past. I may have an eternity to ruminate on how history has chosen its victors, but I'd rather not engage in such fruitless thinking." Fippy removed the belt that was holding his kamas up and set it down beside him, then eased himself lower on his haunches. "How many soldiers are at your disposal?"

"I don't have exact numbers off hand but-"

Bytej cut in and rattled off a series of numbers for them. "9062 orc soldiers, around 600 of which are sorcerers; 3646 minotaur warriors; 824 minotaur mages of varying schools of magic; 292 ogres; 48 giants; and something along the lines of 400 miscellaneous soldiers."

Xellik looked at Bytej with surprise. He had no idea when the shaman would have had the time to get those numbers. Without actually knowing how many soldiers he had, there was no way of confirming or denying Bytej's statement.

"Miscellaneous?" Opalla asked.

"Humans, elves. Mostly mercenaries from Jha'zal. We wanted to bolster our army any way we could, and gold seems like a low price to pay for their services." Xellik replied. "Like I said, we have plenty of soldiers to throw at a small country like Xenaria."

"I had not anticipated that your army was that large. Do you have enough ships for all of them?" Fippy asked.

"We have more than enough. I have twenty-three galleons deployed from Zugrul alone, with another eight from Dredal. There's ample room left for your troops to board our ships. We would have had an extra ship prepared had we known we would be allying ourselves with you."

Fippy scoffed, "Such kindness would have been unnecessary. We will fit in however we must." He shifted on his haunches, and Xellik wondered if that was a reflex left over from when he was alive, since the gnoll could not feel pain. He shuddered to think about what it was like to be a living undead like Fippy and Rothorn.

"I wish to know of your plans in their entirety," Fippy continued. Opalla was wracked by another series of coughs and he stopped to tend to her, rubbing her on the back despite the older gnoll trying to brush him off.

"We will be crossing the canal that cuts between Jha'zal and Muriaj. We'll assault the dwarven settlements along the coast with bombardments from our ships to cut off any early warning the dwarves may receive," Xellik explained. "Bytej, if you'd please."

"Certainly, Lord Xellik." Bytej said, and then turned to Opalla, "Might I light a fire in here?" When she gave him her permission, he produced a pouch from inside his robes and poured the contents of it into the fire pit. With an incantation, the powder ignited into a blue flame, and Bytej began working his magics. A vision appeared within the flames, showing a representation of a world map with images flashing before them. The first vision they saw showed a fleet of ships sailing from Jha'zal to the Isle of Tranquility, to the shores of Xenar. There, the city burned and showed a group of victorious gnolls and orcs cheering at their victory.

Xellik continued to speak as the vision repeated, "We will began our assault first by conquering Xenaria, and will then turn the city over to your people." The images changed, and the ships sailed north from the Isle towards the southern reaches of Olaraa, where the ships attacked coastal settlements and unloaded their troops onto the shore. "After that, we will attack the dwarven port towns and head in land. Their navy is weaker than Rogust's and Kitair's, and their tiny toy ships will fall before the might of our fleet."

"And should you be victorious in Olaraa? What then?" Fippy asked. He kept his eyes on the visions playing out, watching with keen interest. If Xellik didn't know better, the gnoll looked like he was leaning forward from where he knelt, like an excited pup.

Xellik nodded to Bytej and the shaman altered the vision once again. This time, the armies marched north through the dwarven nation and assaulted the trade capital, Sanctuary. "We intend to head to the heart of the continent and destroy their trade and communications hub. From there, it's just a matter of picking who to wipe out first; the humans, the minotaur, or the elves."

"And which do you feel is best?" Opalla asked.

Xellik didn't even need to think about his answer. "Our Blackhorn allies wish to assault the Snowhoof Minotaur's land, where as my council is divided between destroying Rogust or Kitair first," he admitted, "However, I'm in favor of attacking Kitair from the north. We'll have ships deployed there with a work crew after we have landed in Olaraa, and hopefully they'll be able to begin establishing our base of operations on the north side of the elves' kingdom. Kitair is the best choice to hit first, as after the dwarves, the elves are the next best practitioners of the arcane." He leaned back a bit and added, "Though if all goes well, we may send the Blackhorn minotaur against the Snowhoof while the rest of our forces keep Kitair occupied."

Fippy rubbed his chin and hmm'd and ha'd while Xellik spoke. He wasn't a foolish leader by any stretch of the imagination, based on what Xellik had seen of him so far. He'd led his people through war, and come back from the breach of death's door to become Chieftain.

"I'd recommend attacking Kitair," Fippy said finally, "the humans will not be a threat to your invasion, Warlord. Opalla has divined that they are a weak, petty race. There's nothing they can do to stop you when faced with the combined might of our sorcerers."

"I'm glad you feel the same way as I do, Chieftain."

"Your plan is sound from an invasion standpoint," Fippy admitted. "Besides, if you were to attack Rogust, and the elves came to help, you would be fighting on two fronts, with mages and druids at your back door as opposed to your front. There's less worry of that happening with the human's lesser military strength and their weaker allegiances."

"I agree, and we'd already had an idea for how to isolate the elves from their allies..." Xellik said, and the vision changed again. Fippy let out an approving whistle as he looked into the fire. "I see you approve."

"What is that shimmering globe you have covering their kingdom?" Fippy asked. In the vision, a large blue-white dome encased a solid chunk of the continent, enveloping the elves' lands in a curtain of energy.

"That is what my engineers cooked up for the second leg of our campaign," Xellik explained. He had no diagrams with him to share, and Bytej hadn't prepared a vision for it, so he had to do his best explaining what it was without visual aids. "Think of it as a large obelisk, with an obsidian stone carved into a crystalline shape and levitating over the base. It's engraved with a number of runes that funnel large quantities of mana into the machine and expel it outwards, projecting it up and over to each other pillar, creating a dome of impenetrable energy."

Xellik pointed to the vision, indicating five points on the map. At each point was a pillar, arrayed in a star pattern around the elvish kingdom. "There is an exit out of the dome at each pillar, allowing us to reinforce our troops. I've planned to erect heavily guarded encampments at each pillar so that none may get in or out of the sphere."

"What do you plan to do about the elves' magic?" Opalla asked. "They are skilled, and if their Sylvan ancestors left them anything, they will have powerful spells at their disposal. No doubt they will attempt to communicate from within the dome or teleport out when they get in trouble."

"It's not possible," Bytej answered for Xellik. "If someone were to try teleporting, the pillars would draw them into the middle of our camps. There's no hope of escape for them."

"If only we had such power and resources at our disposal..." Fippy trailed off, thinking of battles long past. "We would've crushed the dwarves years ago and launched an invasion of Xenaria."

Xellik sat and waited while Fippy and Opalla spoke quietly to themselves in Gnollish, choosing not to interrupt their conversation. However, when their voices began to whisper, Xellik started to have doubts that what they were talking about was good. Neither he, nor Bytej to his knowledge, could speak Gnollish. Yet their whispering despite being alone in their conversation implied something sneaky that couldn't be discussed openly with the orcs.

When their conversation came to a close, Fippy was the first to speak as he switched back to the Common tongue. "The Greatmother and I are curious how you rose to power, Warlord."

"With force," Xellik replied calmly. "Foa was easily eliminated, as were her most loyal subjects." On the inside, Xellik's heart started to beat faster. Fippy's sudden interest in the subject worried him, and he had a hunch that he knew where the conversation was going.

His fears were justified when the gnoll responded, "I am no fool, Warlord. I didn't come back from Shinixuroc's realm to be lied to by an orc that has yet to see what war is like first hand."

Opalla reached out to lightly nudge Fippy, pushing him enough to draw his attention. He looked to her and was instantly calmed by her gentle look. "What my grandchild means is that we are aware of the power you hold."

Xellik turned to Bytej, looking for advice, but the shaman only shrugged. "How did you know about this?" he said slowly. He began to dig into his breastplate to get at the pendant that dangled from his neck.

"I may not be able to see," Opalla began, running her fingers over her closed eyelids, "But it doesn't take a being's eyesight to tell you carry something of immense power on you. I could sense it before your ships even reached our shores, such is the gift given to me through my divination."

The school of divination magic was not Xellik's strong point, nor was it Bytej's. Looking to the future and putting faith into visions about what may happen meant putting something before worship of Sytarel. Even though Bytej was a skilled shaman, and the Emerald had always been with Xellik, no other sorcerer in Zugrul, nor the necromancers that visited the city from Dredal, could detect the energy of the stone.

Finally grabbing hold of the pendant, Xellik pulled it up out of his chest plate and let it rest against the metal. The Emerald on the end of it pulsed with a warm aura, stronger than the one that the orc had felt on the boat. He wondered if this was due to being on land rather than over the ocean that might attribute to the gem's increased power.

"So it's true..." Fippy muttered. He leaned forward to examine it, but didn't move his hands except to stabilize himself on the ground. "It really does exist!"

"So then my prophecy has finally begun to come to fruition," Opalla said, a thin smile appearing on her cracked lips. She began to recite a few lines with her eyes closed. "An Emerald of the Deepest green and forged from the purest Earth shall arrive from the sea upon the shoulders of an avenger. He shall lead the troubled people to their promised land."

"That is the Emerald of Deep Earth, is it not?" Fippy asked. He reached out to touch it, but Xellik leaned away from his grasp. "This isn't some trick of the light, is it?"

"It's the real thing," Bytej said.

"We retrieved it a year ago in Batic, the Temple of Earth that's situated in central Rhavik," Xellik explained. He held the gem between his thumb and forefinger and turned it over to examine its flawless beauty. The glow was captivating, and he found it hard to pull away from it, as if he was being drawn into the center by a powerful force. "It was guarded by the Woodcaller tribe of minotaur. They were druids charged by the green dragons to watch over the temple and this gem."

"They were?" Fippy asked, "You killed them?"

Xellik shrugged. "Who knows if they're wiped out or not. We killed anyone who crossed our path then took the Emerald for ourselves." He frowned and matched the intensity of Fippy's gaze. "I will not be turning it over to anyone until they pry it from my cold dead hands."

"How much power does it contain? Does it really have the ability to mold the earth to suit the wielders every desire?" Fippy was simply wonder struck by the stone, and the gem's brilliance was reflected in his pale, colorless eyes.

Xellik smirked at the dog-man's reaction to the stone. He was like a child in front of a sweets shop. Deciding to oblige his new ally, the orc stood up and gestured for Fippy to follow him.

Fippy helped his grandmother up from the floor, and led her outside with him. Once they stepped out of the door, Xellik scanned the horizon and spotted a suitable hill from a distance away.

"Is that mound used for anything?" Xellik asked, indicating the hill in question.

"No," Fippy replied simply. "Why?"

"Pay attention then, and watch the power bestowed upon Sytarel's Chosen!" Xellik gripped the Emerald in his left hand, squeezing the smooth stone against his palms. His right hand came up, extended fully towards the hill. With his eyes closed, Xellik focused his mind the hill, and began imagining the dirt and grass rising up out of the ground.

The earth began to tremble as waves of mana emanated from the gem and traveled across the village. The ground began to grow upwards, filling the sky as it began to fall apart in places. The hill was slowly taking the form of a large, stone humanoid creature. Dirt and moss were caked on in various places, and the only spot remaining on the creature's body that had grass on it was the top of its head. A jagged mouth of rocks began to form, and once it opened the creature loosed a screech like sheets of metal rolling against each other.

The gathered gnolls ran from the creature's shadow, shouting for the tribe's soldiers to aid them. They were too dumbfounded by the giant monster standing before them to do anything. A few ran towards Fippy, looking for direction, but their chieftain was rooted to the ground and stared transfixed by Xellik's magic.

"Just one final touch..." Xellik said without opening his eyes, keeping his focus entirely on creating his elemental.

From the top of the grass on the creature's head sprouted a sapling that quickly grew into an apple tree. Bright red fruit formed instantly and dangled precariously off the elemental's head as the monster stood just outside the city with its eyes on Xellik.

The sun had been blotted out, and the entire field was covered in the elemental's shadow. It stood well over them, higher than a giant, higher than the tallest tower in the Temple of War, so high that it could look straight ahead and see bird's in flight. When it moved, the ground trembled beneath it as if the world itself was cowering before it's power.

"By the Gods..." Fippy said, breathless. The monster had two golden orbs that acted as eyes. They fixed their gaze on Xellik and awaited his orders. "I knew it gave power over the earth, but to also allow you to create life as well... you could restore this barren land to its former glory! You could seal the Cana'Mord and launch an attack from land against the dwarves!"

When Xellik released the grip on the Emerald, the glow had dimmed considerably as the power from it had faded. A sheen of sweat covered the orc's brow, and he motioned for Sorda to bring him a cloth to wipe it clean.

Opalla was gripping her chest. Her robes bunched up in her fist and she was panting heavily. "I can only imagine the size of whatever it is you just summoned. The amount of power you just expended right now is gigantic. Not even every sorcerer in our tribe combined could do that." Her head swung around and she was looking past Xellik again. "And the gem still has power. Amazing. I had only heard stories about the Elemental Stones. I never imagined they could be so powerful."

Xellik found himself grinning as people stared at his display of power. None would question him nor dare to go against him after that. Even Haij and Sorda, who had both seen first hand what the Emerald could do, were awestruck by the giant elemental looming above the plains.

"That's not all it can do," Xellik said. He waved his hand in a wide arc and the lights in the elemental's eyes dimmed before it began to crumble. The dirt fell to the ground and formed a pile of earth, with a lopsided tree left over standing in its place. The earth began to tremble once more as the dirt evened itself out. Grass sprouted in rows like a wave of green washing over the land. The tree righted itself as its fruits tumbled from the bows of its branches. In moments, everything was as it was before Xellik had uprooted the land.

"I hope this is enough to sate your curiosity."

Xellik watched with amusement as Fippy picked his jaw up off the ground. It never got old to see other beings on the verge of bowing to his obvious power. Such was the respect deserving of Sytarel's Chosen, he thought.

Once Fippy had regained his composure and cleared his throat, he said, "How long until you plan to mobilize?"

"A week, maybe two at most, but that's stretching it. Our fleet should be here by then and we'll be moving as soon as we rendezvous. The troops will get restless quickly if we were to be anchored off shore for so long with nothing to do," Xellik admitted.

"We'll leave in three days," Fippy said. "Opalla will use her magic to contact the rest of our people and we will meet at the shores east of here where you anchored your ships."

"Then it is settled. If there is nothing more to discuss, my entourage and I will be taking our leave."

"Certainly. We shall meet again on the northeastern shores, at the mouth of the Cana'mord. Look for us in three days as the sun crests the horizon," Fippy told him.

The orcs left the village before gathering around Bytej. The shaman worked his magic and once again a portal opened up that dropped them onto the Sytarel's Wrath.

* * * * *

Back in the gnoll's village, Fippy led Opalla to her tent. Though he had long since stopped being able to enjoy luxuries like a warm bed, he always made sure that his grandmother had the best bed possible even though they had packed up everything to move closer to the coast. He set the old crone down and laid her staff alongside the soft bed made of fur and stuffing.

"You seem troubled, Greatmother," Fippy told her as he poured her a glass of water. "Are you not feeling well?"

"No, I'm fine," Opalla said after coughing a bit. "I'm happy. I might be able to die and be buried in our homeland like I've always wanted. To be next to my parents and my siblings and my love back on Splitpaw..."

"But...?" Fippy finished for her. Opalla's time on Galria was slowly fading away over the years, and she would eventually pass despite all the magics she used on herself. Nothing could preserve an already old body like her magic had done for Fippy. She had only extended her age, not died and been reborn as a ghoul like him. And her time was running out. It was necessary to preserve their history and their magic.

"But... you're not going to like this, my dear grandson."

"What is it?" Fippy insisted, feeling a fear in the pit of his stomach that he had not felt since before he died.

"Your fate, and that of the young orc, are both shrouded in a mist I cannot penetrate," Opalla said, saddened. "I cannot see the future beyond a short time from now. I see us returning to Splitpaw, but after that, there's nothing."

"But you know everything!" Fippy shouted. "How could you not know? Please Greatmother, what happens?" His voice was a desperate and shrill cry for help not unlike that of a young pup.

"I don't know, and I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, Fippy." She reached over and placed her hand over his. "You have been such a good grandson to me since Traanix was murdered. I miss my son very much... but you have helped make up for the void that has been ripped open in my heart. I have cherished this decade more than all the centuries I have lived." Her smile faded, and Fippy could see tears brimming in her eyes. "But I'm afraid with my time so close, I can no longer see into the future. My divination is useless. I think once we return to Splitpaw, I will no longer be with you."

Fippy shut his eyes tight out of reflex for the sadness he felt and tried to repress his emotions. "You will have your lifelong wish fulfilled, Greatmother. I will return you to our tribe's burial ground personally, and see to it you are given a proper burial."

"Thank you, dear Fippy," Opalla said, and closed her eyes. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to get some rest before our journey."

"Of course, Greatmother." Fippy kissed the old crone on the forehead, then stood up and left her tent.

Though fear and desperation bubbled beneath Fippy's calm veneer, he suppressed them as best he could. He was a ghoul, and the undead had no need for emotions. All that was left was the desire to kill, and to avenge his family and his people.

Outside the tent, he saw Greenix sitting in the shadows cast by a nearby torch. He rose as soon as he noticed Fippy was looking in his direction.

"What do you want, coward?" the older gnoll sneered.

"I came to pay my respects to the Greatmother," Greenix replied.

Fippy sneered, then turned his head away. "She is resting. Let her be." He glared at Greenix. "Why don't you go play more of your games with your subordinates? You seem to be far better at doing that than anything useful."

"Had our positions been reversed, I would be the Chieftain after father died," Greenix said. "You merely had the good fortune of being born minutes before me. Otherwise, I'd be the one in charge right now."

The older gnoll snorted. "And if you and your cronies were in charge, we'd be missing this golden opportunity to take back our home." He shoved his way past Greenix, knocking the smaller gnoll onto his backside. "I've got work to do. Leave Greatmother alone or I'll gut you myself."

As Fippy walked away, he could feel his brother's eyes upon him. He listened intently, wondering if Greenix would, in all his foolishness, choose to attack him. Seconds ticked by, but nothing happened. With another derisive snort, he headed into his own tent to beginning planning the tribe's journey.