Nadryl Malinvor strode through the anti-chamber leading to the main audience chamber inside the Spire Keep. This ancient structure intrigued the Lord Summoner. He wondered how its original creators were no more. How had their power been taken away from them? No one knew exactly how the Alteria Empire had fallen. Some believed it was mainly due to inside corruption, which eventually allowed its enemies from without to crush its defenses and overrun the sprawling empire. Others believed that corruption became so rife that regional governors literally sold their territorial responsibilities to outside influences, causing the empire to slowly degrade and crumble over the course of hundreds of years. Whatever the case, it was well know that internal corruption had a heavy hand to play in the demise of the Alterise Imperials.

The Lord Summoner would not allow that to happen to the Necrophiliad. Though the organization had no physical boundaries or borders, it did indeed have wide swaths of territory to preside over, much like an empire. There were threats from within, and from without. Nadryl would make sure the Necrophiliad remained strong during his reign, and the reign of his successor by choosing the right necromancer for the position. Yes, he would.

On Nadryl’s left, Arkhus Xor kept pace. He was a tall, thin man with a receding hairline and a lengthy black goatee, and currently Nadryl’s chosen successor. The man was a powerful necromancer, though not as powerful as the Lord Summoner. And he was intelligent. A highly capable successor to his rule—though Nadryl was unsure of the man. He didn’t seem to have enough ambition.

They entered what used to be an audience chamber as representatives from the Hurgamon Empire entered on the opposite side. The space was cylindrical with a high vault ribbed with spiraling supports. On the north and south sides were high cutouts for what used to be windows. Now the breeze assaulted the room on a regular basis.

Nadryl stopped near the center of the chamber, Akrhus at his side, and behind them were his other acolytes, guards, assassins and even two zombies of the fast variety know to few as hast zombies.

The Hurg representatives approached. If Nadryl was not mistaken, at the head of the procession of non-humans was the First Fist of the Hurgamandrin, the Hurg Empire’s top general. Following him were half a dozen shamans flanked by a hefty contingent of guards with large shields and clever-like swords.

The First Fist strode forward, dressed in a double-breasted raiment of red leather that fell along his sides in striped pleats, his large hood pulled back. The raiment did not expose his thick shoulders and arms or the course grey skin of his forearms and face. Beside him his shaman wore the heavy robes of his station, lined with small tiles containing runes and glyphs and gilded with various metals such as gold, silver, copper and even steel. At his neck hung a linked series of gemstones so large the item couldn’t really be called a necklace.

The First Fist grunted. “I am Oehr Fengris. I speak for the Hurgamandrin in this conclave.”

The tall Hurg’s voice boomed through the space, thick and accented. Nadryle had always thought the Hurg looked like large salamanders that stood upright on two legs. He found their empire distasteful, as it was theocratic and went to great pains to root out and destroy all other forms of power or magic, including Necromancy. In a way he respected the system of governance much more than any other, because it was strong and uncaring of what outsiders thought, protected against outside influences that would otherwise overtime erode their rule, just as was probably done to the Alterise Imperials long ago.

“And I am the Lord Summoner,” Nadryl said, not giving his name, which was a closely guarded secret. “I speak for the Necrophiliad and its unseen dominions through-out the lands.”

Oehr’s thin mouth twisted, showing more teeth than his mouth did while closed. Nadryl thought it seemed like a grimace, or maybe a sneer—he couldn’t say.

“Tell me what you have come to offer the Hurgamandrin, Necromancer King.”

A sneer, then. The lizard didn’t know it, but Nadryl could vaporize him with a word. Nevermind what his shaman thought about the matter. But the Lord Summoner chose not to react to the Hurg’s evident distaste in dealing with him. Nadryl needed the Hurgamon Empire’s support, which meant he had to convince this yellow-eyed abortion that what he had to offer was in the Hurgamandrin’s interest.

And it was.

Finally, after taking his time, Nadryl responded to the Oehr’s arrogant demand that he speak. “I’ve come to offer your emperor Darvana.”

The First Fist grunted. “How is this possible? I know your Necrophiliad doesn’t control Darvana, and you have no armies to conquer the country.”

“No,” Nadryl said. “But if the Hurg work with us, we can deliver the nation into your hands.”

Oehr cocked his head, looked at his shaman. The Hurg shaman was shorter and thinner than the First Fist, nearly the size of a large man, which was quite thin for a Hurg. They seemed to confer something with a glance and then Oehr turned back to face Nadryl. “It can’t be done. The Empire has tried to conquer Darvana before—several times. You know this! The Twin Cities always intercedes on their behalf and we do not have the ships to fight them. Is this what you’ve come to discuss, Necromancer?”

It seems you have the patience of a lizard as well, First Fist. “It can be done, if the Hurg are willing to work alongside the Necrophiliad in achieving a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Oehr growled and moved as if to leave, but then seemed to think better of it. It was a long voyage to the Blackwater Summit from Urgora. The only reason this conclave was arranged on a neutral meeting ground was because the Hurgamon Empire did not recognize the Necrophiliad as a sovereign power, though it seemed its emperor was still willing to negotiate with them. The Hurgamandrin thought the Necrophiliad could be its tool, but the Hurgamon Empire would be the Necrophiliad's tool. Nadryl’s tool.

Now let’s see if the lizards are dim enough to go along.

“To put it simply,” Nadryl continued, “we want the Hurg to attack Darvana, as you’ve done several times in the past—“

“But I told you—“ Oehr began, but Nadryl raised a finger for silence. Then he continued. “The Hurg will attack Darvana, as you have done in the past. While the fleet is away from the Twin Cities, we will attack them from within.” The Hurg moved his mouth to interrupt again, but Nadryl continued. “As soon as the cities realize they’re under attack, they will recall their fleets and the Hurgamandrin will have free reign to do as he wishes with the country of Darvana. Providing you have the strength to do so.”

It was an implication of weakness, one he knew the lizard would want to refute.

Oehr blinked at him with his large, yellow eyes. “And after you are defeated, what then? The Twin Cities will send its fleets back to Darvana—they will not let the country be taken by the Hurg!”

“The Twin Cities will be so inundated with zombies and other…creatures, that the king will have no choice but to keep his fleets nearby. Our aim is to remove the Drawstones. Once my agents can use their magics within the cities, they will have no choice but to protect themselves with their large military. Including their fleets. The Hurgamandrin will have full control of Darvana, providing your empire can defeat the country militarily?”

Now he knew the Hurg was sneering. “Darvana is weak. They are too open to attack from the east and the north. Urgora is strong.”

It seems I have drawn interest. Excellent.

“Indeed,” Nadryl said. “Will your Hurgamandrin be willing to discuss more detailed terms for an alliance, then?”