Dageth was gone. And with them went the council's hopes of a quick escape from Deepmere.

"And why not!?" Roared Grand Magus Arwin

"I've told you before," Keflina said. "Only elven denizens are allowed to use the portal. The location is secret for a reason."

"Then we're trapped!" Denayd cried. He should've left when he had the chance. He'd been waiting to get an opportunity to talk with the deer-kin. That decision might have cost him everything.

"Nonsense. You have legs. Use them." Keflina snorted as she left the chamber. It was their first gathering since that disastrous meeting where their allies told them they were departing. The despair they felt now was a hundred times more oppressive than it had been back then.

"This is an unfortunate turn of events," Lord Arthos said darkly.

No shit, Denayd thought as he considered his options.

"I'm afraid we have little choice," Arthos continued. "I shall take a portion of the army and my house guards to the frontline to combat the mists."

Denayd looked at the man in shock. Since when did he ever do anything altruistic?

"An excellent suggestion, Lord Arthos. I shall also use a sizable force to secure the countryside. Lord Tarwin, I assume you can hold the city while we deal with the mists."

What's going on? What are those two doing? Denayd thought as his mind furiously raced. That was when he saw the glint in their eyes. Then he understood. They weren't going to fight the mists. They were abandoning Deepmere. They would bring a sizable portion of their wealth and use troops loyal to them to protect their belongings as they fled. They were throwing Tarwin to the mercy of the mists. As for Denayd… they utterly ignored him. He met each man's eyes and saw nothing but contempt in them.

"I see…" Tarwin said slowly. "Then I believe we have nothing further to discuss."

Denayd looked around as the others began filing out. No doubt, they had been counting on using the portal to Dageth once they had amassed their wealth. That was impossible now. The others had immediately come up with alternatives. What could he do? He wasn't wealthy like the other councilors. He commanded no military forces. He had no loyal retainers. Denayd had spent all his funds on rare tomes, and he never bothered with the political nonsense of gathering supporters. All he cared about was magic. He was alone and couldn't even hire guards to protect him.

Perhaps he could take a caravan out of the city under the pretense of securing more aid. He could pack his invaluable tomes up and just leave. Groups were leaving every day. They would eagerly welcome an Archmage to help protect them. He could join one of the larger groups as extra security. However, that would be hardly necessary. No one would dare attack a group protected by an Archmage unless they were crazy.

***

Lord Arthos left the meeting hall at a quick trot. If he was to secure anything in this disaster, he had to act now. He wouldn't be reduced to some minor noble living off the scraps of a mighty lord. He was the LORD damn it! He worked hard for the position and the power it gave. He'd been negotiating with Dageth in secret before they fled. He had been gathering a rather sizable bribe, err, donation for the school in exchange for the ownership of a large village that the school controlled. Dageth was too far away to get there safely with his fortune intact without the portal. Fortunately, he still had options.

"Kelfina!" Lord Arthos called as he caught up with the elf. Her guards stiffened, then relaxed as she waved them down.

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"I hope you haven't come to beg Lord Arthos. It would be beneath your station."

Like hell I would beg to you bitch, Lord Arthos thought but kept his expression friendly.

I wouldn't dare behave so crudely with you. Rather, I have an offer to make."

"Oh?" Kelfina said, raising a single eyebrow.

"I would like to purchase a large plot of land outside the elven grove to the south." Getting there with all his wealth would take several months, but it was manageable. The land between here and there was sparsely populated. To reach Dageth, he would have had to cross many powerful nations that would strip him of everything.

"Hmm." Kelfina tapped a finger on her finely sculpted chin. "An interesting proposal. I'm unsure of the long-term benefits to the elves of such an arrangement."

Arthos suppressed a smile. "There are many. I would, of course, swear to protect the grove. You could consider it a trading hub with outsiders so they wouldn't desecrate your grove."

That had her interest. "The land around our grove is valuable. Such a luxury would demand a hefty cost."

Bullshit, Arthos thought, but said. "Of course. Anything touched, even indirectly, by the elves demands high value. I was thinking of 30,000 gold."

Kelfina smiled. "Come, join me for tea. I believe we have a lot to discuss…"

Grand Mage Arwin swore as he left the chamber. He had a substantial household, and most of his valuables were in the land around Deepmere. He'd been trying to sell off as much as possible before taking the portal to Dageth. What did he have left? He had his guards, a dozen talented combat mages. He also had a decent number of city guards who were loyal to him. That was not nearly enough. He was no lord like Arthos. That man could quickly get a small army under his banner. He couldn't. It'd take too much time to gather any significant force. His best bet would be to wait until Arthos left, then seize control of the council. Denayd was a spineless worm and would likely flee soon, as Dageth was no longer an option. Tarwin was no longer a threat. He couldn't even afford any security. His former guards all left when Arwin made them an offer. He could blame Tarwin for the city's situation. Then declare martial law as the only remaining councilor. Afterwards, he could send all the troops to the wall or to fight the mists, leaving only his loyal troops behind. Then he could loot every noble home before leaving the city. Once he got far enough away, he could buy his way into some kingdom as a noble. Yes… that should work. He'd have to get things ready for when Arthos left. He only hoped that the mists would allow him enough time to plunder the city before he left.

***

Lord Tarwin slowly made his way home. Home. He once had a dozen of those, situated throughout the city and countryside. Now only one remained. The manse that his son had owned. The others had been sold to pay his ever-increasing debt. Angry nobles constantly bombarded him with their demands, the leeches.

For over a century, the Coldwell family had been considered an influential power in Deepmere. It was a name that had commanded instant respect. No longer. Under his rule, the house had fallen to that of minor nobility. Soon it would be gone altogether. All because his idiotic son had to have a half-kin bastard. Azura… How he wished he had killed the brat the moment she was born. It was far too late now. The loss of his immediate family had sealed the Coldwell house's fate. He could've perhaps dealt with Loric's death. His son had been a disappointment, but Elise… That betrayal had hurt. It was her loss that ultimately led to his downfall.

He'd tried to claim the kin had taken her hostage. Then he used various other excuses. She was a spy, and so forth. Nothing worked. All his supporters had abandoned him. Maeve hadn't left the manse since Elise betrayed them. Her family had disowned her and fled a month ago. The woman was becoming more unhinged every day. The kin servants bore the brunt of her displeasure. Every day, they had new injuries… Maeve was getting creative in her methods. Some of them could barely perform their duties. Tarwin would have dismissed them, but the cost of replacing them was too high.

He scoffed at the thought. Before he could buy a thousand slaves and toss them out as soon as they were worthless, now he couldn't afford it. Worse, no one wanted to purchase such abused goods.

He was truly a man with nothing left to lose. Although Arthos appeared to disagree. After all, he still had his life…

Tarwin entered his last home. He ignored the one-armed kin waiting to take his coat and immediately went to his study. There, he collapsed in his favorite chair. He sat there a moment before reaching for a flask from his desk. It wasn't alcohol. That was in the next drawer down. This particular item was one he had taken great pains to obtain a decade ago. The last card of the man who has already lost. He wouldn't survive it, but that wasn't the point. When the time came and he stood before his last opponent, he would ensure that they would fall with him…

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