<strong>Hazamir and Druid</strong><br/><br/>Knowing that it was there, it was easy for Hazamir to spot the minute scrapes where the bookcase had been moved in the past, and even easier for him to move it aside and see the false wall behind it, which was actually a wooden facade skilfully painted to appear like stone. Moving it aside he saw the narrow (barely five feet wide) tunnel beyond, and when he stepped into it torches sprang to life and lit his way with pale white soulfire seemingly of their own accord every few feet - most likely that was the necromancers doing. He wouldn't have to go in very far before he saw the markings, written in elven, that would direct him to various places in the tunnels beneath the town and beyond it. Some were marked 'danger' with extensive notes on the sorts of danger one might find - mostly giant spiders, and one set of markings pointed the way down a side tunnel that would apparently lead to the necromancers laboratory and workshop. The tunnel hazamir wanted was fairly straightforward though - it cut north out of the town, and judging by the sounds echoing from within it it must be very long indeed. The tunnels also explained how it was that the necromancer moved around the town in secret, as several of them connected to other structures within the town.<br/><br/><strong>Deanora</strong><br/><br/>It quickly became apparent to the sorceress what her master intended - the scroll contained a complex calling spell, one akin to the necromancy he wielded, but written in an odd mix of the draconic language and the common tongue (which was itself a debased version of Draconic). As always, Streban was thorough and had left notes on the scroll to aid her in properly performing the powerful and delicate ritual, including the name of the creature she would be calling forth from a deathlike slumber - Sultana Nugri, which roughly translated to 'endless hunger' in the old draconic tongue, and even reading the name made her head throb in pain as she sensed the slumbering creatures fury and outarge even in its deathlike sleep.<br/><br/>The ritually cleansed and prepared implements, including a dagger made from what Deanora knew was a tooth from a true dragon and a reddish powder which she would quickly identify as being more powdered dragonscale and fire ruby, were ready for her use - she only needed to add a bit of her own blood, speak the very exacting incantations, and gather the power drawn from her masters many tithed souls. It would be difficult - one mispronunciation or incorrectly done step could be disastrous, but Streban had trained her well for this - he'd done all he could to help her perfect her intonation and pay excruciating attention to every detail of both her spells and her surroundings, and now his harsh and often near-abusive training would make more sense to her.<br/><br/><strong>Dawn and Allana</strong><br/>As it turned out, the necromancer was right. The streets were empty except for the few militia and undead soldiers hustling about, preparing for the coming battle, and any civilians they did see were being funneled toward their homes or the towns tavern - most had been assigned tasks to help with the fight, such as being stationed in teams strategically throughout the town to serve as a fire brigade that would try to contain the inevitable blazes that would occur, and even they were armed as best as could be managed, mostly with old heirloom weapons or tools repurposed as weapons. The fire brigades were littered with a few undead members, most likely because they were untiring and unafraid of injury or dangers. It was one such brigade that the princess and paladin discovered as they moved from the square toward the large tavern, and outside was a wizened old man in the robes and cloth cap of a scribe, whose neatly-trimmed beard and scholarly demeanor were clearly deceiving as he captured the attention of a brigade with a rousing speech.<br/><br/>"Fools! All of us! This town will never stand up against an assault from the kings forces! All of you have sold yourselves to a wicked purveyor of dark magics, and only to be destroyed again when the High King's armies wash over us! We must surrender and throw ourselves on the kings mercy if we've any chance of victory! To do otherwise is madness."<br/><br/>Allana and Dawn, please make a Discern Realities move for me.<br/><br/><strong>Castor</strong><br/>When Castor began his song it was like every one of the soldiers, both living and undead, had their spines replaced with steel rods aas the previous terrified and dejected fighters stood up straight and almost as one stared across the snow-white grassy field outside the gate. Even Streban stood a bit taller as he gazed across the field and saw what he'd expected - a thousand or so feet ahead of them, arrayed across the field, was staggered and expertly-erected wall of iron-banded wooden bulwarks six feet high, each five feet wood and set on wheels so that they could be moved forward as the battle progressed. Every section of wall had a team of four hard-eyed dwarven fighters in thick chainmail wielding axes, heavy warhammers and crossbows. Behind them huge Ballistae were lined up, siege weapons designed to crush even the hardest walls with their massive bolts. These were the famed siegebreakers, a force that had flattened countless forces throughout the ages and had never once been defeated. A quick estimate would put their numbers at close to four thousand strong based on the sheer number of bulwarks erected and the speed with which they'd sprung up. This looked like an impossible fight - they were outnumbered four to one, at least.<br/><br/>"Do not fear, Sigurd. I have not led us onto this field to die today, and we will certainly not be surrendering."<br/><br/>The necromancer said as he strode out, motioning for sigurd and a handful of undead soldiers to follow. In Caedian warfare it was customary for the commanders of the opposing armies to parley before the battle began in hopes of finding some peaceful solution or brokering a surrender, and even demons honored that custom, though when the siege wall parted it was not a demon that greeted them, but a figure arrayed head to toe in thick plate armor fashioned from stone, a flame-read and intricately braided beard sticking out from beneath his full helm with an honor guard of exactly six other dwarves, as was the custom.<br/><br/>Time seemed to slow as the two groups crossed the white fields that would soon be stained crimson, and after what seemed like an eternity the they met in the exact middle of the field between the two opposing armies, and Streban stepped forward with castor at his side while the stone-armored dwarf, with his heavy stone-headed maul hanging at his side, did the same with another wide-shouldered fighter. Dwarf and Necromancer stared eachother down for a moment, and then the Dwarf opened up the ceremonial parley.<br/><br/>"Yer outnumbered an' ya got no way out. Give up now an' maybe the high king'll let yer rot int he dungeons insteada executin' ya."<br/><br/>Streban actually laughed out loud at that.<br/><br/>"We both know that isn't going to happen. If we surrender your forces will just swarm in and kill everyone anyway. But let me extend that same generous offer to you - surrender and join me, and when I retake this land from that buttfucking traitor of a so-called king your men will be rewarded. Do otherwise, and you'll be dead within the hour. Or should I say, undead."<br/><br/>What here is useful or valuable to me? - The enemy forces, while they outnumber your own, are spread rather thinly. If you could breach one section of their defensive wall it would be an easy matter to get the undead behind their ranks and fore them to fight in smaller squads, and as it happens the undead soldiers you have at your disposal are ideal for weathering a brutal defense long enough to breach a single section. You could even make a run for it now - it's less than 500 feet, a harrowing run, but with the armored undead  in the honor guard running interference you could do it, and even better the ballistae are useless this close up, and behind their wall the siege engineers and infantrymen there are more lightly armed and armored. Destroying those siege engines would be immensely helpful.<br/><br/>What here is not what it appears to be? - The dwarven fighters are all carrying glass flasks on their belts, and you have a good guess that those flasks are probably full of alchemists' fire, a sticky, burning liquid that ignites on contact with air. Most likely, the dwarves plan to deny Streban corpses to raise by setting themselves alight if they are dying. You can see another use for those deadly flasks, though.<br/><br/>What should I be on the lookout for? - As strange as it seems, the closer you are to the shield wall, the safer you are. The dwarves can't come out in great numbers if you press against the wall, and they can't mow you down with crossbow fire, plus fighting close to the wall denies the siegebreakers the space and mobility they need to swing their large axes and hammers.<br/><br/>Everyone Mark 1 xp for some fantastic posts. Castor, mark 2 xp. Yours really set the scene.