Farias was a meticulous mage. For instance, he had completed his 118th lap around the deck and was now on his 119th.
On his 35th, 76th, and 100th laps, and again now, Farias had considered demanding to know why the captain was taking so long. But this inexplicable merchant ship, carrying dozens of Greater Water Elementals through Obiris Strait, might actually be able to help them...
His patience ran out on his 120th lap. Just as he resolved to make the ship help them no matter what, the absurdly young captain came into view.
"Our Lord has agreed to see you."
A filthy Mage Robe with a torn corner, scorch marks on his face, exhaustion in his expression... Annan had never seen a mage in such a sorry state.
Farias studied Annan in turn: a stable Portal, a Mage Robe inscribed with at least three spells, and that rare black hair...
They were saved.
"Great King of the North, I, Farias Tia, bring you the regards of Count Ulmit, lord of the Castle. May the world sing of your devotion." Farias placed a hand over his chest, then went straight to his request. "Your Majesty, we need your people's help."
"My captain gave me a rough account... An endless tide of Ratfolk is closing in, correct? Forgive me for saying so, but you should be thinking about how to retreat."
"The nearby City-States are resisting the Rat Tide too. If we can just hold out—"
"New Origin One came from the North," Francois interrupted. "The Southlands have already fallen, and people in the North are fleeing their homes because of the Plague and the Ratfolk... Those who haven't retreated are defending their City-States, just as you are. No help is coming."
"The Rat Tide is only passing through. Once