Whether William had awakened a talent for Divination or not, Hill, far away on Toril, stared in surprise at the chaos of the Undead's battle.
Luskan's pirates, and even its adventurers, had given the Undead little trouble. Most of the damage had come from their own side.
Hill had watched the Undead fight in Waterdeep a few times lately. Weren't they still unable to attack ordinary people who weren't of the Evil Alignment?
Besides, Waterdeep's winding lanes left little room for large-scale battles. Most gang members weren't even professionals; perhaps only a few leaders barely qualified. A few dozen Undead could clear a whole neighborhood of gang thugs.
The fighting in Waterdeep had gone so smoothly that Hill hadn't realized the Undead could now be burned to death by their allies' Fireballs!
Hill sucked in a breath and stared at the unlucky soul who had taken a Chain Fireball squarely to the back of the head... Fortunately, a Priest had pulled him back from the brink.
"Who the hell has aim like that? Were you aiming for my head? Ah! No, wait, calling those things crosshairs is too generous! A blind person could aim better!" The Knight who turned to curse was... Demon Sword. Hill's expression returned to normal. As Black Rose's famously unlucky member, Demon Sword could run into anything.
Many of Black Rose's Priests put a healing effect on him whenever they saw him. If only one person in a line got hit, it was usually him.
No one knew why Demon Sword drew so much aggro. Whether in a guild battle or a fight against a wild beast, he took the most hits.
He made an excellent tank.
The Knights beside him... their shield hands were shaking. They were clearly laughing to themselves.
Hill had once heard