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| - "Sit." Niarltah responded.
- Muldaveus opened the parchment and let out a guttural laugh. "What is this?"
- "Are you quite finished with your histrionics, Muldaveus?" Niarltah's lip curled into a snarl.
- "We are free of our masters." Niarltah leaned forward as he dug through a leather pack at his waist. "We have accomplished much in a short time. The Virindi no longer shackle our people, nor are we pressed into service by the Linvak, Aun or Hea. We are free." He produced a worn piece of parchment from within the folds of the leather pack and scattered it across the table. "We fail—still—to drive the pale ones from this world, why?"
- "They are three tribes—grown to five. We are two," Niarltah said. "Despite our prowess, despite our knowledge and despite the arms we bear, we are losing this war. We must…regroup. We must also find an ally."
- "It is not insanity. It is calculated risk." Muldaveus made a motion to speak but Niarltah held up a hand. "It no longer holds allegiance to them. Perhaps we can strike an accord, find a modicum of support from an enemy of an enemy. Do not discount this idea, until you have heard it through."
- Muldaveus pounded his fist on the stone table. Across from him, Niarltah sat in serene calm.
- "Done?! Are you mad? For months we have laid siege to the Tethana settlement. Now, Garsh and your commanders report that they have suffered too many casualties to continue pressing the attack. What's more, we have lost contact with our fortress near the mountain pass!" The gray hulk stood and pounded his fist onto the stone table again. "I am far from fine, Niarltah. We are losing this war."
- Muldaveus tossed the parchment onto the tabletop and leaned back in his chair, "I'm listening."
- Muldaveus scoffed, threw his hands above his head and lowered himself into a stone chair.
- "You propose this?! Were you not of the first? Do you not recall the madness it wrought upon our people?" Muldaveus shook the parchment. "This is insanity."
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