His legion would not rest completely inactive, even as they lingered outside of the city gates.  They had their duties to perform, as well.  And if there was anything that Piren had educated his soldiers in, it was the importance of duty.  Of course, their first duty was a mostly pleasurable one.  His orcs died in battle, it was an absolute fact.  His orcs may be smarter and better trained than most orcs, but that did not grant them any special protection from being skewered by the blades and arrows of the Blessed.  And each one represented an expenditure of Piren's effort, from their very birth, and so every loss was a loss of Piren's most important resources: time.  Of course, Piren had become more skilled in his arts since his first experiments, and so he no longer had to be present to ensure that the descendents of his current brood would bear the special gifts he granted.  Still, it meant that his orcs had to breed.  And so they did, traveling to the dens and warrens of their fellow kind, subduing their savage brethren to plant their children in their women.<br/><br/>But that was far from Piren's mind as he walked the streets of Jahl'Ra.  His thoughts were on the growing unease that filled him with every passing day.  He had spent too much time on the front lines, engrossed in the elegant honesty of war, and so those in support of the war at home had allowed their allegiances to shift without his knowledge.  That he did not take advantage of the lull surely upset them, but he was no fool, something was brewing in the West, something that he needed to be prepared for.<br/><br/>His cogitations, though, were brought to a close by the appearance of Ancalrung before him.  The repitilian figure was well known to him, and despite his advancing age, Piren has to stifle a shudder at the dragon's arrival.  Childhood memories, lingering fears threatened to well over and send Piren into spasms of terror.  But he counseled his body and kept his form still.  Even with Piren's retinue, Ancalrung could probably tear Piren to pieces in an instant if the dragon so desired.  Piren lifted a hand, two fingers pointed up, signaling to his companions to halt.<br/><br/>Piren listened to Ancalrung's words and took a moment of silence to chew them over for any hidden meanings.  Before answering Ancalrung, he turned his attention to the demon that had been walking at his side, the commander of his elite guard, Tuir.  He spoke softly to Tuir, though Ancalrung would no doubt be able to hear his words,<strong>”Seek lodging in the city, you know the ways as well as I.  Keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary.  Polyt is also active, do not disturb his business.  Where I am going, the protections you offer will be of little need, and if any were to move against you while we are separated, I'm certain that you will need all the men you can muster.  I will keep Hurklin with myself, though.”</strong><br/><br/>While he certainly did not have to explain himself to his subordinate, Piren recognized that his commanders were smart enough to evolve their plans based on the circumstances, and if they understood the reasons behind his will, they would be able to give themselves the freedom to enact it more properly.  With that matter settled, Piren turned his attention back to Ancalrung.  Despite the unearthly beauty that Piren saw in the dragon, fear still threatened to overwhelm his best efforts at calm.  When he spoke to Ancalrung, though, his voice had managed to gain a confidence that his mind still lacked, imbuing it with a general's force,<strong>“I can speak with my father now.  I'm certain that you understand that I cannot reveal my intentions out here on the streets, though.  I would be quite pleased to have you escort me to Lord Azazel's throne.”</strong>