The dark-robed figure moved through the milling undead with purpose and stood before the standing Brilhado. "Speak," the Brilhado demanded of the necromancer coldly; he was growing impatient with senseless interruptions. "Lord, Giliara is dead. He tried to breach the temple of Light and was consumed. Our posted agents remained long enough to determine that the Derenians plan for withdrawal." "My lord... Drakath is failing... he cannot hope to..." "Yes, my lord." "Yes, my lord..." The Brilhado smiled wickedly; his beautiful face made the expression somehow infinitely more frightful.