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their talent for the use of the Shadow Tides appeared to be. The blond-haired Urelis, while respectful, always seemed to have a barely perceptible smirk on his face that was just shy of being disrespectful; something which the more conservative Zerelis would never dare. Urelis was extraordinarily confident, and that is precisely the reason why the elf chose him to carry out the next order.
    But the wizard sensed that his remaining apprentice wished to speak. “What is it, Urelis?”
    “I have a question, Master. My brother and I are having a disagreement on the nature of the Dark Disciples. We cannot find agreement as to their true nature. Are they mortal beings gifted with special powers; or are they immortal beings in the service of the Dark Lord?”
    “Excellent question,” said the master. “They are mortals, like you and I, although many of them have been alive for centuries if not longer. The Dark Disciples are also called the Thirteen, as there are always that many in number. The source of their power comes from the Shadow Tides. The Dark Lord knew that Zuhr was going to banish the use of the Sigils, so he took steps to prevent the loss of the Shadow Sigil to his father’s anger.”
    “What steps did he take?”
    “He took the source of all Shadow Tide forces on Llars and split it into thirteen pieces. Then, he bound each of those pieces to one of his Shadow Hunters hoping to never let the followers of Zuhr learn of it. Each piece is a talisman, an object of great power. By destroying each of the thirteen talismans, it is conceivable that the Shadow Tides could be eliminated.”
    “That is why Balzath and the others are so powerful!” exclaimed the apprentice. “They have the raw power of the Tides at their disposal.”
    “Indeed. That is why they are so well protected, and favored, by Umber. Now, we must make our preparations.”
    “What is it you require of me, Master?” asked the apprentice, an eager gleam in his eye.
    “We are going to conduct a test of my newest pets. I need you to make preparations for a journey,” said the elf. Shalthazar told the apprentice what was required of him and the man disappeared in a puff of smoke to do his master’s bidding.
    The wizard walked over to his nearest creation and placed his hand on the thing’s waxy cheek in a tender manner.
    “Soon, my child of death, you will taste the blood of innocents!”
    Shalthazar smiled broadly in anticipation of the torment and death to come!
     

     
    Shalthazar was eager, very eager, to unleash his new pet golems on the unsuspecting people of the nearby Cklathlands. But this must be done in secret, and far from the bustling town of Fort Ogrewall.
    He ascended the narrow stairwell that led to his chambers above, dwelling on the progress he made and the setbacks he had endured thus far. Overall, the military campaign had gone incredibly well. After the conquest of the Vaard, the army had virtually walked across the Northern Continent conquering every small city-state and principality that stood in its way. The majority of the city-states surrendered voluntarily, asking to be accepted into the great new kingdom that was called New Ilian Nah, or New Nashia. The campaign proceeded along the timetable that he had expected and came to a natural pause at the foot of the Ogrewall Mountains just as winter was setting in. This gave him time to prepare for the next phase of his military campaign: dealing with the mighty Ogre Tribes and the powerful Cklathish nations. During the winter he had been hard at work sowing the seeds of discontent among the Cklath and a number of the smaller Cklathish leaders had aligned themselves with the Prophet-General. In the greater picture of the Cklathish nations, the number of those on his side were militarily insignificant but the effects of their defection would certainly help to undermine public opinion and morale in the larger and more powerful kingdoms. The military campaign could not be going any