There were eleven families, over forty people, crammed into the small Duergar armory. They’d been following the errant priest, Yebidiah, for weeks, moving from shelter to shelter as their world was destroyed around them. While about half of them were armed with spears, they held the weapons awkwardly, bumping the tips into the ceiling and the walls as they filed out of the room.

  “That one over there,” the old priest said, pointing at a Duergar woman squeezed past the massive kobold’s body, “Hvani. She was some sort of clerk or secretary where they held me. They wanted to know about things on the surface, about the fighting with the Beseris. It was nice for a prison. They said I was a ‘guest’, which I guess is more polite. Of course, you don’t traditionally abduct a guest from the side of the road and kill his guards.”

  “They interrogated you?” Torvald asked. “What did you tell them?”

  Yebidiah shrugged. “I told them what I’d heard. It’s not a secret, and I was headed up to the Conclave regardless. They could have gotten as much out of anyone they snatched. Besides, I am a priest and the Duergar are a godless people. Talking to them was a valuable opportunity, as you can see. They deserve to know that salvation is theirs for the asking as much as anyone in these dark times.”

  The Duergar man Torvald had first seen through the door called a question from across the room, and the Yebidiah pointed toward where Torvald could see Ruzinia’s guiding light pointing the way for the both of them. The old man’s response was just a few slow and halting words, but he spoke enough Duergar to get the group moving. While a few bent down to retrieve the odd bit of jewelry from a dead kobold, most just made their way out of the corpse-strewn room with grim, stoic expressions – even the children. Torvald wondered what they’d seen in the past few weeks to make them react like that to such a sight. Or maybe all Duergar were just like that.

  “So, you were taken prisoner and dragged down into the Depths, and you decided to use it as an opportunity to proselytize?” Torvald asked, walking alongside Yebidiah and looking around at all the people. “I’m surprised so many listened.”

  “Well, the dragons helped,” the old man admitted modestly. “Duergar prefer to rely only on themselves, generally speaking, but things were desperate for a little while there. A full-grown dragon came roaring out of the tunnel system and attacked the city. Hvani said the local guard tried to contain it, but they were met by a tide of kobolds. They never got the situation under control. From what I understand, the fighting was fairly even for a while, but the dragon turned most of the city into an oven over the course of the battle. Those who didn’t run by then probably didn’t make it. Hvani was the one who got these people out, initially. She gathered her family and friends, prayed to Ruzinia for rescue and broke me out as soon as she realized what was happening. She was the one who recorded my 'interviews'. We didn’t realize how widespread the attack was until later. At least four other towns and cities have been destroyed – tens of thousands of people!”

  “Ah…” Torvald winced. “It’s worse than that, actually. The Duergar’s imperial capital fell about a month ago, and the dragons only went in afterward from what I heard. The attacks I heard about before I came here were far north of here, near the Beseri border.”

  The old man’s wrinkles seemed to sink deeper into his face as he absorbed that. Then, he nodded grimly. “I see... I suppose, then, that means the Conclave is no longer needed?”

  “You could say – ” a strong hand gripped Torvald’s forearm and he stopped, finding the Duergar woman Yebidiah had indicated grabbing him and looking up at him with an intense gaze.

  “Did you say that the imperial city has fallen?” she asked. She must have been walking right behind them and overheard their conversation. Her accent was thick, but it seemed that she understood them easily enough. “The city called Kostrom? What happened? How?!”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Torvald swallowed and nodded. “The city is still there, but the people... There was a greater demon.” Trying not to go into too much detail except to emphasize King Grundrik’s betrayal, he recounted what he’d heard about his friends’ trip to the Duergar capital. Hvani listened with an unblinking, stone-faced intensity. When he finished, she let out a single, slow breath.

  “The queen is alive? What about the Dragonbone Throne? Does the city stand?”

  “I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you.” Torvald shrugged helplessly. “Is it likely that the dragons will find it? By the sound of it, they’re rampaging through the Depths almost randomly.”

  He wasn’t sure how vulnerable Duergar cities were to dragon attacks as a rule, but he knew he wouldn’t want to be stuck in an enclosed space fighting a fire-breathing anything, least of all a dragon. Bernt had complained exhaustively about using fire magic underground and the need to keep the ambient temperature down to avoid cooking everyone.

  “I’m sure we will learn the fate of your people in due time,” Yebidiah said reassuringly as they pressed on. “As long as we follow Ruzinia’s guiding light, you and yours will be safe. Let tomorrow’s worries be for tomorrow, and focus on the current crisis today.”

  Hvani ran her hands over her face, then nodded, visibly collecting herself. “It doesn’t matter now. We are leaving this place. The goddess will shelter us.” She smiled up at Torvald. “She has kept us safe so far, and when all seemed lost, she sent us a powerful warrior! The worst is behind us now.”

  Yebidiah winced, but didn’t say anything. The paladin raised an eyebrow at the priest, but he only returned a subtle shake of his head. Soon, the Duergar woman turned to corral two children who were quietly fighting over a tail ring with a large gem in it that one of them must have looted.

  Torvald leaned in toward the priest. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re still here,” he said simply.

  When it became clear Torvald still didn’t understand, the old man elaborated. “Paladins are called to where there’s fighting to be done, and there’s always fighting to be done somewhere. If there was a safe route out of here, Ruzinia would have already sent you on your way.” He sighed tiredly and ran a hand over his liver-spotted head. “The fact that you’re coming with us means my guidance alone will not be sufficient for these people.”

  “Oh.” Torvald shrugged, unbothered. “That’s okay. I hiked all the way down here for weeks – it would be crazy to just turn around and leave you and all these people here. I don’t mind staying to see everyone safe.”

  “That would have been seeing everyone safe,” Yebidiah said, raising an eyebrow. “This means there's fighting ahead, still. The goddess doesn’t make mistakes, but people do, and fighting is always dangerous – even when the goddess is watching. We’ve lost a few already. Ruzinia guides our way, but those who wish to benefit from her blessing have to follow.”

  Torvald looked around, confused. Their charges were walking down the tunnel in a neat column, two abreast. They were quiet, except for Hvani at the very back, who had confiscated the tail ring and was berating the two little miscreants from earlier and hauling one of them along by the ear. Whenever the tunnel split, the leading Duergar – the same who Torvald had seen through the half-broken door earlier – looked patiently back at Yebidiah to see which way they should go. All in all, their discipline was extraordinary for what Torvald assumed were just a bunch of scared civilians.

  Then his gaze snapped again to the back of the column as he realized what the old priest was talking about. “The kids?”

  Yebidiah nodded. “We lost one of their mothers on the fourth day, when one cried at the wrong moment and we had to run. We were forced to fight last week, when one of the little ones ran into view of a kobold patrol, trying to scavenge for food while we were supposed to be sleeping. These people aren’t cowards, but they won’t make it if they have to fight their way out. My guess is you're here to keep that sort of thing from happening again.”

  Torvald grimaced. That… was somewhat of a complication. He could do a lot more than Yebidiah when it came to protecting his charges – but could he keep them safe from an entire group of kobolds or a dragon if they didn't listen well?

  “What can we do?”

  “What can any of us do?” Yebidiah replied. “Do the best you can, and have faith that it'll be enough.”

  Torvald nodded seriously. “Okay. Has she told you where we’re going?”

  “You are new at this, aren’t you?” The old priest’s face cracked into a smile and he let out a dry laugh. “No. Sometimes I think she likes to keep us in suspense. Other times I wonder if she's making it up as she goes along, like the rest of us.”