The small cavern was full. Representatives from all the major settlements had arrived, complete with bodyguards, assistants and camp followers. Delire, who was assisted by Gattoup, the Dark Paeon captain that led the city militia, led the contingent from Lake Harmony. Their security contingent was led by Keral, promoted in the five years since the refugees had met him when he commanded the forward watch post. They had also brought Mekior. Delire trusted his judgement and he was there as an additional bodyguard as well as being an advisor.

Sitting next to Delire and Gattoup was Vixel, a senior councillor from Gunder's Hall, and Geril, Commander of Gunder's Hall scouts and intelligence network. The two were a strange pair coming from Gunder's hall, as they were both human, though that settlement was mainly populated by dwarves and goblins, the two races that found they had much in common once they stopped trying to kill each other. Next around the table was D'Wiglo, a prince of the noble dwarven house that ruled Fort Livian with his brother D'Fir sitting next to him. As with all nobles of their house, they were unusually tall for dwarves, nearly the height of a man but with all the muscles and girth typical of dwarves. Both these princes were renowned for their strength. Songs were already being sung of the defence of Firegulf Bridge, of how Prince D'Wiglo had held off an invading army until relief had arrived. His twin battle-axes described as co-ordinated blurs that hacked the invading kobolds into piles of dead bodies.

Along the other side of the table sat one of the very rare elves that had survived the purges. Aliat Forest Mourner was in his traditional black, a sign of his mourning, seemingly an eternal mourning since nobody alive could remember him wearing anything else. As usual, he was representing the Tower Arcane, the simple silver band around his head all that was necessary to show his status as an Archmagus, and one of the Tower's ruling caste. Whom, or what was seated next to him nobody knew as the being remained silent, cowl drawn over its head. Evidently, the two communicated via arcane means. The creature next to the hooded mage was a Dark Paeon, but clearly of a different mold to Gattoup. Where Gattoup's armour was functional, his face and skin an unmarred, clear obsidian colour, General Ferilice's armour had much decoration, most of it designed to invoke fear and cause distress to those viewing the wearer. The General's face was also carefully marked; scars and tattoos formed symbols and enhanced the cruelty of his visage. Some, particularly the mages from the Arcane Tower, had raised their eyebrows when they saw the marks, their subtle meaning and nuance understood by them, their meaning a mystery to the rest gathered around the table. General Ferilice sat alone, the sole representative of his city-state of the Hooded Vale, though his security personnel were the most numerous.

The last three at the table were all dwarves, dressed in the brown and grey of the priesthood of the Forge father. Their leader, Kier, had renounced his royal blood, foregoing the kingship and rule of Fort Livian to rule the powerful Church of the Forge Father instead. The three had come to observe, record and, if necessary, arbitrate between the factions represented. Kier stood with his palms open, held above his head then brought down gently to the table, invoked silence, causing all, high-born and low-born both, to fall silent.

"By the power of the Forge Father this cavern has been protected. None outside this room can seek it out; no magic can pierce its veil of secrecy unless I allow it. By the divine righteousness of the Forge Father I call upon the light of truth to shine upon all present, let no lie be spoken, let no deceit go unveiled." Kier Bowed his head and set a simple silver bowl of water in the center of the table. As he sat, the silversteel mail visible beneath his robes reflected the light across the room. A blue light starting from the bowl in the centre of the table and, flowing out, bathed all within the room in its divine glow

The silence remained long enough for the light to envelop all and then D'Wiglo stood.

"We have all heard the proposal that the contingent from Harmony Lake have brought before us. Delire is known to us by reputation, and we respect her judgement, but Captain Gattoup is unknown to us, and not even trusted by those of his own people that we have long held dealings with." At these words, there was a slight stir around the table; a rumour confirmed, but other rumours long dismissed now open to review. How far did Fort Livian go in their cooperation with the Dark Paeons?

D'Wiglo continued, well aware of the effect of his previous words. "I speak of our agreement with the Dark Paeons for a reason. Everybody has always dismissed them as possible allies, but we know, from experience, they can be good allies. Our invitation to General Ferilice to attend this meeting is proof of our close ties, and our history, as allies." He paused, and looked around the seated people, "We have heard the proposal that Jeria, the Half-Fiend, brought forward, and the leap of faith it requires. If not for Delire, we would not even be here, but we will listen, with open minds and hope that we can find the safest, wisest course to follow.

Opposite D'Wiglo General Ferilice stood, and D'Wiglo graciously sat, giving him the floor.

"I am new to most of you here, at least as an ally." A wry smile curled his lips, with a quick glance to those representing Gunder's Hall. "I come to listen to this half-fiend, though it will be difficult for such a creature to convince me of anything." His gaze swept the room, "That piece of business may well be the least important to me, here, today. Far more important is the hope that we can forge ties of trade instead of war."

The rush of air as Vixel stood could be felt by those seated nearby, his glare at the General went unreciprocated, but returned with a polite bow as the General took his seat. Vixel's face was blood red, his rage barely controlled. "Had we known you would be here, perhaps we would not have! Never mind, you are here now and the business is too important to let you raping, murdering, slave taking scum disrupt this meeting." He stopped, took a few deep breaths then continued, his diplomatic training taking over. "We are keen to hear more from Jeria. There are stories about him, carried to our city by Gyv, once a travel companion of his and who serves in our city now as a warden, that makes us inclined to believe him." He waved his arm, summoning Gyv forward. Mekior saw her now for the first time and gave a guilty start. Their relationship had soured when Gyv had wanted children and he would not tell her the reason for his refusal.

"We are here to listen to Jeria, but are inclined to believe him; his cause is helped mightily by the opposition of that scum invited here by the lords of Fort Livian."

At the head of the table, Kier frowned and banged his hand upon the table, the noise unnaturally loud. "Lord Vixel, you are sworn to peace within this room. Hold your tongue on the matters that exist between you and General Ferilice, this is not the time."

Vixel's face said much, but he sat, silent, his gaze towards General Ferilice no less hate filled than before, but he held his tongue. Aliat took the silence as his cue to stand and address the gathering.

"Greetings to you all, may the Master of the Void bring wisdom and understanding to this meeting."

His pronouncement caused the three priests of the Forge Father to shift in their seats. The Church of the Void and that of the Forge Father were not at odds, but, nevertheless the two had vastly different philosophies.

Aliat continued; the smile on his face evidently at the expense of the Forge Father's priests. "The Tower is not quick to prejudge the situation, we like to take each case, each person on their merits. You ask us to take the word of a half fiend and that is not a minor matter. It is of no import how some might be inclined to sing his praises, we shall not be convinced so easily. We will listen and judge for ourselves, though out first inclination is to dismiss him and the message he brings."

Silence reigned and then Delire stood. "I have waited, let each of you express your misgivings or support, and now I shall address the issue. Jeria has been an Outwalker for over five years, achieving the rank of master with unprecedented speed merely two years after first being recognised. He grew up in Weald Hall, he is a trusted and well-known member of the community of Harmony Lake, and is well known to me personally." She paused, the delay long as she tried to catch the eye of all who sat around the table, lingering on the hooded figure as if she tried to penetrate the material and see what lay hidden in the darkness.

"Jeria has been approached by representatives of the Lord of the Eighth, one of the masters of Hell. It makes sense that those incumbent in the ranks of the Lords of Hell would want to protect their privilege, their seats of power. Jeria is also the logical choice for them to contact. He is trusted in our city, he is the son of a powerful fiend, and has access to those in power. Ironically, some of those reasons making him the best candidate to approach make him the worst…." She sat down, waiting for the debate to start.

"Son of a powerful fiend? Just who is his father and why should this be of import to us?" The voice was hissing, laboured as if the speaker did not often use such crude means to communicate. Those around the table started, surprised at the voice emanating from the hooded figure, the first words it had spoken that could be heard by all.

"Hiron. General Hiron is his father and seeks him still. Who knows why Hiron wants him? The fiends are not noted for their parental instinct, and particularly towards those half-breeds they litter the world with, the results of their rape and "fun" activities. But, he wants Jeria, whatever the reason. It is that desire to get Jeria that saved the citizens of Weald Hall, even if we couldn't save the city."

Silence was king as the information was absorbed around the table. Finally Aliat spoke, his voice harsh in the silence. "Bring him in, this scion of one of the most hatred devils, one whose name is cursed more times than even that of his dark overlord." He fell silent, and Delire cursed her quick tongue. Damn the long lives of elves! I forgot Aliat had lived in Green Horn and that he would have seen the entire city destroyed at the hands of Hiron’s army!