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| - The Brilhado swarmed all about, their full malice turning toward the encampment. "Where is he?!" they screeched. "Where is our prize?" Draynor watched group after group fall; Tralin held them off the city proper, but their advance left the people dead. Tralin had been truly startled and frightened by their arrival but the reason soon became apparent enough. Against all odds the communicant had somehow escaped them and they sought him out with malice. "No option remains. We must assault them ourselves or they will kill us off one by one. Darin, give the order to the Frogzard Knights to ready to charge. Sir Xander, on your honor, bring me a sword." "What?" Xander asked, startled. "King Draynor, you cannot mean to take the front." "I am no king here, Xander; I am a soldier, and as a soldier it is my duty to lead my men. Even so, what kind of king should I be to send others to their deaths but not go myself?" "My lord," Darin objected. "You cannot be serious; you have seen what the Brilhado do. What kind of resistance can you offer?" "I have spoken, Darin. Give the order." "Tralin, please dissuade the king," Darin pleaded. "Yes, really," Xander added. "While I share your concerns, it is not my place. Draynor is the King of Deren, the supreme commander of the armies of Deren; it is his prerogative to go to battle. Xander, bring King Draynor a sword. Commander Darin, you have had your orders, relay them." Reluctantly, Darin and Xander followed the tasks set before them. Equipped with a weapon, Draynor turned his horse toward the front directly. "Frogzard Knights, soldiers of Deren, friend Vandarians, we stand at a crossroads," Draynor said. "We either stand and fight, or Stone Deep falls to the invaders. If any fear for their lives, they are dismissed." Draynor waited a moment, but no one spoke or moved. "Very well, then," he said, raising his arm and gesturing to a trumpeter. "Charge!" The men charged the Brilhado as ordered and Darin began shouting orders to the rear guard. Startled, the Brilhado fell back a bit and the undead began to fall under the rapid onslaught. The tides were turned for but a moment before the enemy recovered, however, and the Devourer's forces pushed upon the men, slicing them down. The Brilhado turned their fury on the front lines, killing with rapid force and precision. Tralin unleashed bolt after bolt of magic at the Brilhado, moving through his repertoire with force. "Tralin!" Draynor shouted over the men. "Now is the time to unleash the spell we discussed." "My lord," Tralin responded and he opened his hands and nodded. The mages of Stone Deep concentrated their magic upon him and Tralin channeled it with directive. A blue light began to engulf him and suffuse the land around him. Tralin brought his hand down and a crackling bolt of lightning struck down from the sky, expanding into a large doorway in the middle of the encampment. "By the command of the Lord of Spirit, I command you!" Tralin shouted at the undead. "Return to the place from whence you came!" Xander and Darin looked at each other in dumbfounded confusion as the undead began to heed the power of Tralin's magical imperative. Tralin stood for a few moments before crumpling to his knees, his energy consumed by the powerful cooperative magic. The Brilhado became enraged by this and turned attacks upon some of the undead, ordering them to return and annihilating several of them, but the power of Tralin held over them and they continued their flight. Infuriated, the Brilhado began to kill as many of the soldiers as possible in a jealous fury. The light moving out even toward them. Seeing it advance, they increased their fury. Then the light began to fade and storm clouds rippled over the land. From the clouds a deep dark voice came, and all light seemed dimmer. "This world is not the Devourer's yet. The shadows demand your departure in the name of shadows." Darin sought the voice and turned to his astonishment to see Myr standing on the far hilltop. The combined weight of Tralin's and Myr's magic took its toll on the Brilhado and they too began to flee. One of their leaders, in defiance, cried out in evil glee. "If you take from us our communicant, Dark Lord, then we too will take." "Myr was NEVER yours," Myr said in that same deep voice. "Now return!" In fury, a bolt of red light flew from the hand of the Brilhado, striking Draynor and driving him off his mount with extreme force. He flew a good ten feet before striking the ground. The clouds parted in the sky and a bright light as white as a million suns streamed thought the Darkness, striking the Brilhado. A voice from the heavens, melodic and modulated, filled the men's ears. "You are no longer mine," the voice said severely. "The Shadow Lord may take you." And then the light faded and silence filled the camp. Living shadows began jumping up and surrounding the somehow less luminous Brilhado. With terrible screams, the Brilhado died even as the gateway Tralin summoned vanished from existence. Darin and Xander rushed Tralin to Draynor's side, and they could already tell that he was dying from his injuries. Tralin's face showed complete despair. "Can you not help him, Tralin?" Xander asked. "No. His injuries are fatal, and my energy is exhausted." Tralin turned to the king, who stirred, regaining weak consciousness. "My king," Draynor said, speaking to Tralin. "I seek your leave, my lord." "Father!" Tralin sobbed. "Your people need you. I need you." "I am dying, Tralin," Draynor said, reaching and touching the Drakel's cheek. "Please, you must make it so they cannot resurrect me. Give me my peace and lead the people." "I should never have let you go. This plan was madness." "Tralin... they are gone, are they not? Only a few hundred undead remain without guidance. In war, there are casualties, Tralin; I am a casualty of war. I love you, Tralin." Draynor turned and looked at Darin with purpose. "Commander, help my son. Show him how to be direct. He..." Draynor's voice grew raspy. "Tralin, help Darin with court manners; he needs to know when to show himself in and when to wait." "King Draynor," a voice spoke in a hoarse whisper, and Draynor turned and, seeing something, smiled; and then, breathing his last, the king died. Darin and Xander turned to face the speaker who dared interrupt at the king's last and immediately drew their swords. "So, Delnar," Darin said as Xander pressed on the undead advancing on them, "the necromancers succeeded after all. Well, prepare to follow your king to the grave."
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