"<span style="font-style: italic">Grug'jinka</span><span style="vertical-align: super;">1</span>," the acolyte said as he knelt down on one knee, his head lowered, "one of those who went with Varduk brings word. The dead-eyes have been joined by the polished-steel."<br/><br/>Heldrith'thn inclined his ancient head, wholly unsurprised. It was only a matter of time before the two Kingdoms of Men joined forces. As old as he was, he had forgotten nothing- he knew Linden and Lebidan held no love for one another, but the desire to survive could overcome any differences. Alone, either Nation would fall before the Tutar- this was known, as it had been illuminated by the Flame. However even together, united, the men would fall. The process would simply take much longer.<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000"><span style="font-weight: bold">"What of Varduk?"</span></span><br/><br/>The small, robed Tutar shook his head jerkily, as if trying to clear his mind of something particularly unpleasant. "He is disgraced. Grishnakh has given him the knife."<br/><br/>Heldrith'thn nodded, pleased but once again unsurprised. Amugam's spawn was perhaps the mightiest of the Tutari Chieftains, and if any understood proper protocol it was he. His son, formerly his favored offspring, had borrowed warriors from various Chieftains without permission, so as to go forth seeking easy spoils without the blessings of the Flame. Most significantly, Varduk failed and suffered a pitiful defeat, wasting warriors with his foolishness and inexperience. In doing so, he shamed himself beyond retrieval.<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000"><span style="font-weight: bold">"Good. He was not fit to lead, and as such he shall now spend his days serving the females. Unless permitted to die,"</span></span>he finished almost as if thinking out loud, as he turned to regard the altar. There, in front of the immense, crude throne of black steel, on an iron pedestal, was a large, carved large bowl filled with fire. Within it he could see the piercing blue flames that grew gradually more orange approaching the top; the fire was maintained at all hours of the day, and if allowed to grow too dim, whichever acolyte was on call at the time would be executed immediately. The fire could never be allowed to go out- this was one of the Temple's most sacred laws, as important as the one that stated none but the true embodiment of the Flame Itself could sit upon the Black Throne.<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000"><span style="font-weight: bold">"Lukmin,"</span></span>he said, addressing the young acolyte, who perked up immediately upon hearing his name,<span style="color: #000000"><span style="font-weight: bold">"I want you to send word to all of the Chieftains. They are to come to me, at nightfall when the Flame burns brightest." </span></span><br/><br/>They would meet in the Temple, of course- the stone construct was the largest building in the Ravine, and though it was roughly hewn and far from refined, it was treated with great reverence by all of the Tutar.<br/><br/>Constantly vying and maneuvering as they were, the 13 had not all been under the same roof in a very long time. In fact, such a thing had not yet even happened with the current group (there seemed to be a new Chieftain every week or so with the current environment within the Ravine. Only a few of them seemed immovable through their wariness and savagery, but attempts were constantly made on their lives regardless- such behavior would only abate with open war ). But they would answer his call. Their feuding would end for the time being, just as it had when they began their war against the dead-eyes.<br/><br/>He fixed his own eyes once again on the fire, moving closer to it so that he could feel its enlightening warmth against his skin.<br/><br/><span style="color: #000000"><span style="font-weight: bold">"<span style="font-style: italic">B'halinma</span> <span style="vertical-align: super;">2</span>, there is work to be done."</span></span><br/><br/><br/><br/>1. Enlightened One<br/>2. By the Flame