<span style="font-style: italic">Earlier...</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00">Death watched himself walk to the Outer Ring, a bottle of alcohol in his hand. He was going to sit on the wall and drain the whole bottle, as was his usual evening routine. When Death felt sure he had gotten far enough away, he solidified his form and entered the production factory where Cooper worked. </span><br/><br/><span style="color: #80BFFF">Cooper was busily working... or making herself look busy. Either way, it took her a few moments before she noticed Death and could slip away to speak to him. She grabbed a notepad, so that it seemed she was taking notes, perhaps on machine parts, and walked over to  him.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00">Death continued walking to the back of the factory, where the machine noise would drown out their conversation. When Cooper approached, Death simply asked "So?"</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #80BFFF">She sucked in a breath, then released it. "The rebels are planning to attack one of War's warehouses. It's a very basic plan: make it look like you're going after the big one, while you actually destroy a smaller one. That is the latest and largest news."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00">"Right, because they aren't going to see that coming," Death sneered. "Attack them both. Small group each, as if it wasn't ordered from on high. Blindside Famine's marauders as they return. Cause enough trouble in the kingdom and they can't seek you out."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #80BFFF">She smiled. "That sounds like an excellent plan, Lord Death. I will present it to the rebel leader... with subtle cues. So that she thinks it is her own plan. Does that please you?" She paused, glancing around to double check that no one was listening in. "And what of the problem of our numbers, Lord Death?"</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00">"Whatever gets the job done. As for your numbers, this will help. Reunite any stolen children with their families, give away whatever food you can spare. They will come."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #80BFFF"> "Generosity is difficult to afford. We will be hard pressed to accomplish such a thing. We would likely have to raid food stores," she pointed out. "How should we accquire the resources? And how do we battle fear? Sometimes even the grateful are too afraid to join our forces."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #40FF00">"It's been a bad season, but I've averaged out what we produce and we can spare more. Be thankful Famine requires a percentage versus a tight quota. As for fear...anyone who joins is under my protection. Anyone with their heads still on their necks and all their organs in their bodies will find themselves surviving mortal wounds. Those captured will find themselves a peaceful death."<br/></span><br/><br/><span style="color: #80BFFF">She rose a brow. "And how could I possibly relay such information without giving away our arrangement?"</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00">"You won't. I'll relay it to your commander. Your job will be to convince her. I can't say it's...as sweeping as advertised, but your men will suddenly find themselves very lucky. Your commander is not to speak a word of my involvement. Your grunts cannot be trusted. The success of your operations will do the job. From now on, you'll have my complete guidance. You will know my siblings' movements and weaknesses, so plan accordingly."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #80BFFF">She nodded her head curtly. "Very well. I trust your judgement. Thank you, Lord Death. I act on your commands." She would have bowed, had it not been for the fact that that would draw attention to them.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00">Without a word, Death swept into his shadow form and disappeared from Cooper's sight. He waited for his illusion to pass him and took its place with barely a flicker.</span>