At the morning after the wizards and company’s war council, it finally began. Hosts of red-caped soldiers encroaching on the Westernwoods came into naked view of the Spire, occupying the very same hill that Agor’ people had when they arrived. Like the people before them, they too had been awed at the first sight of the Spire. But soon, without fanfare, various units began encircling the Third Spire at the behest of their commanders, and taking care of never coming close to the range of spells and projectiles. Their every step was accompanied by the guards on the Watch-room and reporter to everyone on the Spire. Weapons were sharpened, souls and minds were steeled. The Siege of the Spire began.

The Lotharian camp was established between the two hills, with fortifications readied on the vantage points to discourage sallies and to forewarn the camp if they ever came to pass. Flags were plunged into the hill, the red banner of Lothar, a silver iron fist chief among them all, denoting the lead of Lothar’s heir, Lord Agor. There were a lot of minor nobles among them and their various flags flew too. There were those who believed in the cause, those who wanted the opportunity to plunder, and those who were coerced. It didn’t matter now that they come here, blood would be spilled either way.

The Lotharians had born the brunt of the early days of the campaign, sending their men against Towers and cities, and their scouts to clash and chase away the Army unit guarding the region. But their sycophants and unwilling partners’ warriors were the ones that suffered the most in the path through the Westernwood. Experienced hunters could swear they were the victims of ambushes, and many did not come back from their hunting and foraging. A surprising number of magical beasts rampaged through groups that got separated and lost in the woods. Even the trees and bushes seemed to give way unwillingly. Of course, these trials affected only a small fraction of the number of troops - hundreds of men marched onto the Spire and now laid siege to it.

Up on the Spire, there were look-outs on both sides of the tall fortification. Many other people conglomerated on up high balconies to watch the beginning of it all. On one such veranda, Garner and most of the people who had arrived and cleared the way to the Spire with him were besides him. Assured Chief, reliable Orwin, mysterious Raj’pul, brave siblings, loyal men-at-arms. All of these people had accepted to put themselves in harm’s way in the defense of the wizards and other practitioners who looked for refuge here. There were also wise Lowa, inquisitive apprentices, and the earnest Valena. Serving them all drinks and snacks like it was an spectacle were Romer and his people, the servants, who also endangered themselves here to do their duties.

“This is it, people,” Garner said. “This won’t be easy, it will be brutal. But I believe that we can and that we will prevail,” He said, finishing his short speech as he looked everyone in the eye and tried to transmit courage.

“I believe you will,” agreed Sir Lance, the renegade paladin as he arrived on the balcony. “We must be wary of the Spire - both its Guardian and its unassaibility - but we can do it, even against this host.”

“Yes, Sir Lance. And tonight, tonight we’ll draw first blood,” Garner promised.

“Yes, Master!” most people answered back, the warriors mostly enthusiastic of the bunch by far.

“Master Garner. I do believe they intend to set a tent for a parlay in a while,” said Chief as he watched the movement of their enemy’s troops and people.

“Isn’t it dangerous, Master? It might be a trap,” said Tealdin, uncertain after most people took the parlay in stride.

“It might, but we’ll be prepared if that’s the case. Lord Agor has a reputation as an honest and decent man, but there’s not much decency involved in this whole Purge,” He reassured his apprentice. “Sir Lance, if you would accompany us?” He asked as he started leaving the balcony, followed by Lowa and Chief.

“Yes, Master.”

After the elders and leaders went away, there were left Orwin and the greenest of the group - the apprentices and the young warriors, and the naive necromancer. There was silence for a while as they all turned back to watch the lotharian horde until Orwin shook his bald head, saying, “It finally begins now.”

“You sound like you were actually looking forward to it,” Leanor raised an eyebrow, consternated at the emotion. Fighting golems had been bad enough, fighting people would utterly suck in her opinion. The only thing she wished was to study her books and magic in peace, but now here she was, next to a bloodthirsty warriors and clueless practitioners.

“Not really, Leanor-” the veteran started replying, but was swiftly interrupted by Maia.

“It’s the wait that shakes you, Leanor. A battle is chaos and death, but when you’re fighting, you’re mostly too busy to be afraid. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I agree that it’s best to get it over with already.”

“I see,” replied the bookworm apprentice.

“Have-, have you been in many battles like this?” asked Tealdin, hesitating as he looked over the red wave surrounding them.

“We’ve fought in the Atalaïas, we’ve fought at the Ghent debacle, and Orwin probably many more than that. Fighting is a shit-your-pants experience, but it can also be exhilarating,” Mons said seriously to the brown-haired boy who nodded his thanks at the honesty.

“Wow, Orwin, when did he learn those big words? I think he just said a five-syllables word!” taunted his sister, making everyone chuckle and the mood to lighten a bit while they briefly exchanged their customary insults and banter back and forth. Valena grunted at them to shut up after a while.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… I wanted to know how was it? Not the Atalaïas, everyone hears from those parts. About the Ghent campaign?”

“Well, the king declared we would be seen as liberators, but the tribes of Ghent saw it as an invasion. I don’t know to this day if we were right, or if they were,” said Orwin, remembering some bad moments.

“Not that it makes a difference,” opined Maia. “Once things went south…”

“Yeah, but willing or not, we were the attackers there. Here, they have to come for us. Defending is so much easier…” added Mons.

“Boy, one day I will understand the reason why you repeatedly test fate,” grumbled back Orwin.

“They do say… that the gods protect the drunk and the retards… so maybe he’s immune to it?” pondered Valena haltingly, causing another round of chuckles. The necromancer was completely drained, and she drank from a mana tonic prepared by Lowa. The warriors told some more tales from Ghent, but they didn’t stretch it out, and soon they moved on to lighter topics.

***

The Lotharians took their time about it, making sure that their camp was all set and secure and that the far-most encircling siege groups had a rotation going on. It was already late afternoon by the time that Lord Agor ordered a white flag taken forward, and for his people to erect a tent, signaling his intent to parlay to the besieged. The Lotharian heir took his place on a table they had set while his bodyguards and advisors stood behind him. As the sun started setting, Garner rode out of the Spire with half a dozen companions in tow, the same number as Lord Agor’ escorts. The tent was right between the space from the second hill to the gates of the Spire - nearly at spell range, and not far from the lotharians either.

“Master Garner,” greeted Lothar’s heir neutrally, raising from his stool as the wizard and his people descended from their horses and walked towards him. The mounts were tied in a post helpfully planted on the ground by the besiegers.

“Lord Agor, I presume,” replied Garner, schooling his expression in the face of one of the men responsible for the death of many of his friends and acquaintances.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Master Garner. I would like to finish this with the least amount of bloodshed possible.”

“Likewise,” the wizard answered, though he was quite sure that they had two very different ideas in mind.

“These are Lord Gaius and Vida Ferrer,” introduced the noble, signaling for both men to step forward, “Two of my advisors and commanders.” The man ignored the rest of his party, but gazed onto Garner’s followers, saying, “And who might these be?”

“Lowa Darkmire, notorious hedge witch, alchemist and healer. Lance Eisenwill, paladin of Kalidor. Master Tara, wizard and battle-mage. Besides my esteemed warriors, of course,” He introduced. The choice of the third practitioner to follow him had been a big doubt, but they had settled for the short wizard for her experience and good temper - someone like Master Wilhelm would probably only make things harder than they had to be, while the others practitioners might not be up to the kind of problem that would arise if things went south.

“Charmed,” replied Agor, getting frowns and scowls in response.

Sitting down on the stool reserved for him, being accompanied by his counterpart, Lothar said, “You wanted to parley, lotharian. Say your piece, then.”

“Direct, I can appreciate that. Surrender, Master Garner. We’ll have a trial for your Order’s crimes, and we’ll be lenient to the accessories of your crimes - even the mages.”

“If we’re being accused of crimes, Lord Agor, I would like to know the charges - and who gave you the authority to be judge, jury and executioner,” countered Garner, raising his eyebrows at being accused of crimes.

“Sedition and violation of the Statute of Magical Limitations.”

“Which clauses of the Statute, Lord Agor?”

“Brainwashing and Crimes against Humany, Mutagenics, wizard.”

“Mutagenics? I see…” replied Agor, not surprised that they would make up such serious accusations. Mutagenics was the attempt to fundamentally alter human beings through the use of magic, and it was a forbidden practice throughout the world because of the grave disasters that had taken place after earlier episodes.

“But you haven’t answered the question completely, Lord Agor. Who gave you the authority to try and persecute them?” Lowa pressed the man. “Who gave you the authority to kill and imprison other practitioners while you were at it, too?”

“The same Statute allows us to apprehend its violators, Elder. Collateral damage was unfortunate, but unavoidable.”

Lowa was furious at the cynic answer? Unavoidable? They had whipped up the masses into a frenzy, and then let loose at the unsuspecting. And some of the ones who didn’t believe their lies, acted the same way because of fear of retaliation by the invaders. The scene that Valena and the others had told her that happened in Green Knoll had repeated themselves in many other places. She had to force her hand away from a corrosive vial she was unconsciously reaching for in her coat slash alchemy deposit.

“It allows you to persecute people caught in the act, Lord Agor, not to launch an extermination campaign against your adversaries. I’m sure none of the people in the Spire have done anything you claim, and that you have no proof of it.”

As the lotharian lord opened his mouth to retort, Garner interrupted him, “If that was all? You may leave now with your killers.”

The man’s companions scowled, and Lord Gaius raised a finger towards them, nearly shouting “You think you’ll get away this easy, wizard?! You’ll pay for your crimes - in blood! One way or another.”

“Crimes, Lord Gaius? I’ve seen no evidence of such crimes,” countered Lance.

“You must be insane, paladin! Siding up with these people against your own order, what the hells is wrong with you?!” the man accused aggressively.

“I fight for what I believe is right, I’m not a puppet whose strings can be pulled at will, not even by the Order of Kalidor. What you have done so far confirms to me I’m on the right side of this,” answered the renegade paladin calmly.

The woman introduced as Vida Ferrer pulled the Lord back, ignoring his look of outrage at Lance, and in a more reasonable tone she said, “He’s a bit angry, never mind him. But, you know, Master Garner, Lord Agor’ proposal is your best option. We’ll bring you down anyway. The only difference is the people you’ll be condemning to die besides you if you resist.”

“I think most would prefer to die fighting than to suffer through rigged trials,” Garner riposted.

“I’ve heard of you, Captain Vida,” Master Tara entered the argument, “you’re a competent mercenary. But this is a criminal campaign, and the King or the Wizardly Order will hold everyone responsible, even you and your sellswords.”

“There’s that chance,” admitted Vida, “but I’ve received some fairly reliable assurances that the Wizardly Order won’t be in any state to pursue grudges, if it exists at all after this Purge.”

There. The mercenary captain, a lot less preoccupied with the niceties and twisting of truth, said the word that they all knew truly defined everything that was happening. This was no misguide attempt to bring justice to a rogue Order, but an organized attempt to wipe out the wizards, though it was for reasons none of them could fathom.

“You’re sure that you’ll storm the Spire?” Tara asked skeptically, and the other woman nodded confidently. “Let me rephrase: are you sure you can storm the Spire and do not break the Banishment Spell in the process?”, the wizard pressed, and the mercenary grunted, noncommittal.

“I don’t think we’ll be coming into an agreement if that’s your stand. Do you have anything else to say?” said Garner.

“There’s another thing, I’m afraid,” said Lord Agor, setting everyone on Garner’s side on edge, hands to their weapons or ready to cast spells. “We’ve apprehended several suspects on our way here, Master Garner. We’ll start the trials tomorrow, and punishment will be swift if they are found to be guilty.”

“That’s… I had actually heard you were an honorable man, Lord Agor. What happened?” asked the wizard, gritting his teeth at the helpless situation.

“Duty.”

“You’ve killed enough innocent people that you should start taking responsibility for your own acts already,” remarked Lowa, staring a hole through the man’s head.”

“You might be right, Elder, but the fact stands. Will that make you reconsider, Master Garner?”

“No, lotharian, your threats won’t be enough,” Garner said defiantly, though he wasn’t looking forward to the consequences.

“Is there any way I might reasonably make you change your mind?”

“No. But I want to ask a last question: why is your father doing this, Agor? I just can’t understand it.”

“His reasons are his own, I only follow his commands,” the man shrugged at his question.

“Madness. We’re leaving,” said Garner decisively, tired of this fruitless verbal sparring.

“So this meeting comes to an end,” said Agor, and Garner’s eyes widened at the intent he saw in the man’s dark eyes.

“Trap!” he shouted, warning his people as all hells broke loose.