The night had been spent in discussion with Mena, though I listened more than I spoke. It was the type of serious conversation that meant something when you looked back years later and thought about how it achieved nothing actionable but held a value that was difficult to describe.

It was the dark early morning when we traveled back to the inn, and I certainly slept through most of the next day. When I did awaken, I found that many of the adventurers, guards, townsfolk, and refugees had gathered to voluntarily join the growing army, and Count Wilchrest had his hands full all day long sorting them into groups for rudimentary training. I didn’t comment on the matter other than to give the man instructions to rejoin me at the village of Woodhoot when the forces were prepared.

When I finally left the comforts of the inn, and stepped into the bright afternoon sun, I found four nuns outside waiting on me. I wasn’t certain how it came about, not bothering to look further into the matter, but they were rightfully upset that the town of Lark would not afford them a building or lands for a new orphanage.

While I wasn’t entirely thrilled with the idea of moving children any closer to the lines of battle than they already were, I did need to establish a religious building attached to the wall of my tower to guard against attacks from religious magic. Both the weakness in my defenses and the idea of leaving so many destitute children adrift were enough grounds to commission ten large wagons to carry the assortment of orphans and nuns with me to the tower.

During the last few days of travel, several of the soldiers had grown close with the children and likely would have adopted had the circumstances differed, and they were more than happy to accompany us. I did get to witness a heartwarming reunion between one child and their aunt while we were loading them for travel.

The travel to my tower was slow-going, but I expected as much. Mena and Meathead had stayed behind as leadership of the reformed banditry, which left me to travel directly with my assistant Leslie, the nun Shaelra, and—for some reason I have yet to fathom—the orphan Jacob. The three-day journey consisted of listening to more details of Leslie’s adventure and discussion with Shaelra over what materials would be required for a temple and orphanage.

Jacob, though he had joined us physically, spent most of those two days making moon-eyes at Leslie.

The young man was of that age, though, and Leslie seemed to enjoy having a rapt audience for her stories even if she was oblivious to the reason why. When I wasn’t discussing those topics, or the myriad of concerns that traveling with such company entailed, I was planning for the magics I would need to use in the coming battle.

It was too late for me to construct more than a dozen or so wands that would undo Mirktallean slave magics, not enough to make any difference in a battle. I also didn’t have a cadre of mages trained in joint casting.

The mages that had joined would be a benefit, but not compared to a trained mage corp. In fact, I wasn’t certain how many of the non-adventurer mages had seen actual combat, let alone war. This meant that I was likely the only defense against any magic-based combat units, and I hadn’t done battle against Mirktallean forces in more than a century.

Still, with careful planning, I should be able to do my part in the coming battles. In the past, most of their armies were filled with slave-soldiers. Those soldiers usually outnumbered Sena’s, and it was impossible to cause them to retreat.

Men or women that would fight on without regard to how grievous their injury.

Child-slaves pushed to the forefront of the battle lines had caused even the greatest of Sena’s warriors to pause.

That didn’t mean their armies didn’t have detriments. Their command structure was the greatest weakness, as without someone giving the slaves their orders they would simply continue with their last known orders. A good assassin could cause a camp of soldiers to stay encamped for years. Traps and ambushes had powerful effects, especially if the Mirktallean commander issued a full charge.

Yet, I didn’t want to see more death. I had already seen enough of war and we would need every able body to fight against the Pestilence that we could arm. No, what I wanted was to appear on the battlefield with such an overwhelmingly powerful force that the Mirktallean commanders simply retreated. The question was how best to do that.

My old war staves could summon hundreds of second-tier elementals, but that was something they would expect.

No, my plans involved an elemental more substantial. Perhaps even a fifth-tier one merged with lesser elementals. That in combination with spells prepared and cast with magic through my ring would do well.

While my mind was on these thoughts, it didn’t escape my notice how the children reacted to our trip.

While they had been subdued and sad for most of it, the looks of excitement and wonder filled their faces now. The stop in Lark where they could eat their fill had helped, but I liked to think that it was the covered road to my tower with its glowing nature elementals and sunbeams that altered their outlook. Not that I took the time to speak to any children beyond Jacob and those who sat around the campfire listening to my stories.

Night had fallen by the time we arrived. The wagon caravan halted just in time to see a veritable mob of unhappy humans and dwarves outside my gates. From a distance, I could hear them shouting, the noise loud and unruly. Kine was standing in front of the gates with Tond by his side. Eni stood with his back to the guardhouse, leaning in what looked to be a relaxed manner.

Light spells were active above both the crowd and the different towers making it almost as bright as day.

Fortunately, whatever caused these people to be upset wasn’t enough to make them unaware of the approaching wagons, and the boisterous yelling fell to a small muttering. Still, it wasn’t what I wanted to see upon my arrival, let alone how I wanted to introduce the nuns and children to their new homes. The [Wagoneer] called us to a halt a few feet into a crowd that spread beside the horses, and I stepped out onto the road beneath as if I hadn’t noticed the crowd at all, and instead affected a look of surprise at them as I spoke.

“What is all of this then?” I asked, using small magics to make my voice heard. Unfortunately, this had the result of causing all to speak at once, an uproar that made my ears ring even if I feigned nonchalance.

After a moment or two, when the noise didn’t stop, I clapped my hands loudly, a sound that was amplified by my magics and loud enough it startled the horses pulling the wagons.

When silence resumed, I looked at the faces once more, noticing that the dwarves had quietly moved to stand in and among the mob of humans. I wasn’t certain why they would do so, but it wasn’t important to me at the moment either. Instead, I frowned and spoke again, “I cannot hear you over each other. Appoint one person to speak your grievance.”

That caused several mumbles and quiet arguments until one man simply shouted, “We didn’t know we would have to live next to a necromancer! It just ain’t right!”

The man, skinny yet toned, shrunk back after his shout, his face red with shame or embarrassment. Or maybe, he simply didn’t like the entire eyes of the crowd turning in his direction when he spoke. Some were like that. Around the crowd, I hear low but clear sounds of agreement.

I looked at him for a moment in surprise. Necromancer Pyl hadn’t been hidden away, and I knew he had been active around my reflection lake and its underwater crypt for a while. Anyone with eyes should have been able to see him doing necromancy.

I failed to see how this was a reason to form an angry mob now, unless there was some hidden spy amongst the villagers causing trouble. I voiced that opinion with my next question, “And how is that a problem?”

The man who spoke before widened his eyes in surprise and looked around at the others to gather courage before he answered, “Master Fargus, with all due respect, I don’t wanna live next to no necromancer, sir. My wife was cooking a hen in the pot this evening and the darn thing leapt out and ran away! We had to chase down our dinner both before and after we done cooked it.”

He almost sounded apologetic as he spoke to me, a thick woman and child at his sides both nodded in agreement though. I couldn’t doubt the truth of that. If there was too much death mana in the surroundings such a thing was easily possible.

Another man near the back of the crowd spoke up, “I gotta cut the heads off my fish right as soon as I catch ‘em or they just keep wriggling around!”

His words were answered with several louder voices of agreement. A woman near the front, impassioned by growing voices, called out soon after, “Why, Chandar’s wife Elsa died three days ago and woke back up! He keeps her locked in a room because he loves her too much to lay her to rest!”

“Hey now! I ain’t dead, you heifer!” the woman, who must have been Elsa called from further within the crowd.

“Might as well be as much time as you spend with me!” Another man answered from a different part of the crowd, which seemed to be some sort of signal for everyone to talk or laugh or shout all at once.

I sighed and clapped my hands together to silence them once again, “I will look into the matter of your dinners… rising… and will resolve it. If there are any other matters you may consult with your Alderman Kine to bring to me.” I followed up with a gesture to the man, whose look of relief had changed to surprise and then resolution all in the time it took to blink.

My words left them muttering, but I didn’t stop there. I prepared a spellwork that would cause thunder to echo in the skies as I spoke my next words, “Additionally, this village will be housing the largest orphanage in the country soon. In the wagons behind me are hundreds of children who have lost their families. Their journey here was arduous and taxing, and I ask of you to show them your kindness. If you have the means to take in a child to raise, then I suggest you do so.

Those of you who have the means and do not will no longer be welcome on these lands. You have until tomorrow to decide.”

With that out of the way, I began to see to those in the wagons behind me. My three assistants reunited briefly before I tasked them with the construction of a new tower to serve as a temple to Elora. The children, in a mass of bewildered confusion, mostly left the wagons to meet with other children from the village and soon a great feast with three pits roasting flame boars were going. Casks of ale were opened and the city was celebrating as if they hadn’t been an angry mob two hours ago.

It wasn’t long before I was sitting in my chair at my table amongst my seneschal, Kine, Eni, and others enjoying a feast of my own. Fentworth Aide had taken it upon himself to hire an additional cook for the kitchens so that food was prepared for the outer towers as well as my own. Chelsea had been relegated to cleaning and baking bread, an admonishment she wasn’t happy with but deserved.

It was at this table that I was presented with a number of matters of real importance that I needed to answer quickly before preparing to rejoin the army headed north.