General Maraxus: Hello readers and welcome back. Once again our immense thanks to the author of this story, Sunjinjo, for her kind permission to upload her story here and continue the series.

Gnarl: She is indeed a most wonderful person; I've known her for quite some time.

Maraxus: Yes, you certainly have. Anyway, without further ado, on with the story.

Into Motion

Clear, pale daylight gleamed off a speckled shell that was normally only touched by moonlight. Feathered legs glided through cool morning air and mist, flapping with each air current they could catch, across a dew-covered jungle and then muddy, churned earth. Then that earth fell away.

No matter how early it was, workers were already labouring away in the Pit of Ruvalk, the dwarves' Maesmaerian bastion. The light blue night pohea didn't care for that, however.

The flying crab had another goal in mind. The feathered legs tilted, and the creature soared past grey barracks with filthy windows. Briefly, legs clicked on stone and wood, then it pushed off again and flew to a green stone windowsill higher up. There the pohea rested.
Just inside the window, in a copper cage, an almost featherless bird raised its head. The light blue crab clicked delicate pincers and chirped in question. The bird reacted with a soft chitter. His one eye briefly lit up. The crab pushed away from the window again, sailing away across the Pit. In the misty swamp forest beyond, the canopy briefly trembled, and Arandor stared after the other flyer in sudden excitement. Behind him, in a huge green-and-blue four-poster bed, a grey-haired dwarf snored loudly and started waking up.

It'd been two weeks since the elven skinchanger and his two friends had been captured and dragged back to the dwarven settlement; two weeks since a blue and black shadow had arisen in the west. Now that shadow finally returned east, with much more ado than when it'd left.

The canopy, the roots and the water's surface of the swamp trembled as legs marched past; legs with blue and black stripes, grassy green and mossy legs, and also dark, tattooed legs, armoured in a gleaming, sky-blue material. Claws scrambled along through the trees and then landed on solid ground. And two pairs of glowing blue eyes gazed out towards the Pit of Ruvalk for the first time in very long.

After two weeks, Estell barely thought about all he'd accomplished anymore, focusing more on what he wanted to achieve in the future. He was armoured head to heel in sky-blue abyssilion, he wore the amber gem as if he'd been born to it, his fingers fit in the blue spirals around his spear perfectly and his shadow hand was already in place. Shadow floated next to him with fiery eyes, more than ready for the things to come. They'd practiced their dual magic non-stop, so the domination process came to them quicker and easier than before, and they'd discovered a few practical applications of the dark magic. The duo had mostly used it for total control, however, and that became all too visible as their army streamed out of the forest behind them.

They'd expanded the green clan with the life force of creatures that they'd failed to dominate, or the ones they'd killed for food. Still Minions jumped down from the trees, into the mud. Almost all of battle-ready Katoa was with them; the Zola spread out along the forest's edge, no longer only covered in jewellery and tattoos, but in their living, blue armour; interlocking shards of abyssilion. But what truly dominated the company were the crabs. During their training Estell and Shadow had ventured into the minds of blue-and-black king crabs like Ariki, the mossy hiako, and the green grazers of the highlands. Under their command even the peaceful latter ones proved capable of fierce strength and violence. They left the forest under the deafening crack and creak of wood, dozens of every species. A true swarm of multicoloured pohea swirled through the air overhead, and as Estell looked up a light blue, speckled specimen briefly joined them. Then the small crab dove down and landed on his outstretched arm. Estell placed his black hand on the smooth shell.

"Calm," the elf spoke in content appreciation, having a look in the little creature's mind.

"That must be the head overseer's villa. And… that bird?" He clenched his jaws. "That… must be Arandor. He has his bird back, Shadow, but he's lost all his feathers and one eye." The pohea fluttered off again. Estell stared into the mist.

"Time to pay them back for that," his counterpart nodded. He turned in the air and looked out over their ragtag army. "Are you ready for this?"

Even the violence with which Ariki finally left the forest could not drown out the war cries now. Estell raised his spear. "Then we go! Tuai, Meranti, lead the Zola into the Pit from two sides. Free every slave and bring them up."

The duo, Kitava's finest warriors, nodded briefly. Both were painted in bloody red, both their skin and their armour, and their hair had been bound back with fiery beads. They were two of only a few; most Zola had opted for a less dramatic colour as they didn't expect too much danger today. With Tupuhi and the king of the delta by their side, they almost couldn't fail. Nyarai had donned her old blue paint, for a new beginning. She grinned at the elf and his Shadow as she darted past. "Finally!"

Estell turned to the green Minion by his side. "Chitlin, make sure the greens spread out. Keep the gas away from the slaves and the Zola. And kill every dwarf you see."

"Can do, Master," she nodded, fading from sight with a grin.

The amber gem flared green. "Always keep part of the clan in position in the tunnels!" he shouted after her. Nex swung by his head and hissed in his ear sharply as he went.

"Good luck, Master," Gnarl spoke softly. "I hope your plan works. I'll keep to myself, unless things go really awry."

Estell nodded lightly. "Let's hope it doesn't come that far." As everyone got moving he placed his black hand on Ariki's leg as the largest crab pounded past. "It's our first priority to get him to the depths. Don't let him fall."

"As if anything can bring him down," Kaalu laughed. The huge Zola chief loosely whirled his gleaming blue weapon around as he stepped forward; a giant mace-like instrument with razor-sharp edges on all sides. Kitava also ran past, her fluently formed axe at the ready.
Estell kept to the back a bit, for now. He was ready for a fight, but didn't want to play too big of a role just yet; caution had proven useful in the past few weeks. He'd fully mastered his spear now, and he'd also ventured into realms of magic with Shadow; he looked forward to testing it, but domination leant itself less well to open battle than destruction.

The first crabs vanished into the mist before him. Estell smiled as he stepped ahead himself. At times he wished he could command Jinx' enormous fireballs and streams of flame – him and Gnarl both – but what he did have also had its advantages. The blue pohea landed on his gauntlet again. A slight touch, a glance at Shadow. "They're awake."

In the Pit, both dwarven overseers and elven and Zola slaves looked up as the rattle of metal disturbed the relative peace of early morning. Then cheers and shouts disturbed it further, and the morning mist higher up in the Pit exploded around countless dark figures, painted in bright colours.

The wild Zola had arrived, swinging down by chains and hanging containers, swooping through shrouds of mist and along a growing number of lanterns lighting the depths. Blue weapons flashed, and a few surprised dwarves were already relieved of their lives. Along with the Zola came the green Minions, claws clicking on metal pipes and scraping through muddy earth and over bluish rock. Black silk spurted around and choked and blinded a few dwarves; then long claws yanked armour out of the way and blood followed. Fearful and enraged shouts joined the Zola cries, but then came a brief, baffled silence; Ariki had appeared at the top of the Pit and started the long descent via the spiralling path leading into the depths, swaying and waltzing and whacking aside everything in his path.

The commotion had already echoed up, however, and not without reaction. Along with the Pit overseers, the troops Nazush Neth had stationed on Maesmaer had awoken, and further in Ruvalk the first machinery was being started. Even as Estell arrived at the Pit's edge the first airships ascended through the mist, and the first dwarven bombs sailed down to his king crab. Ariki managed to beat a few of them aside, but another few damaged the outer layers of his armour, and others hit the crabs behind him; two grazers were flipped over and were left wildly milling their legs.

Estell looked up. The pohea swarm whirled around above him, but then dove down.

"Shadow!"

His counterpart joined him. Together they outstretched their hands and brushed past the flyers as they passed. With the new command in their heads, the little crabs turned towards the airships, and soon the pilots found themselves surrounded by colourful shells, feathered legs and long, delicate pincers. Flight goggles were torn off, and soon after that the first ships made flaming, smoking crash landings in the swamp forest.

Estell smiled and stepped into the Pit.

The commotion hadn't gone unnoticed even in the deepest tunnels. Everywhere slaves laid down their tools and looked around in the direction of the central Pit, and everywhere they were forced back to work with whip and club – by visibly agitated overseers. And then something attacked those overseers from behind.

Indil, the red-headed animal enthusiast who had regrettably never seen the Maesmaerian crabs, widened her eyes as blue blades separated the heads of two overseers from their shoulders. She flung her pick at a third and saw him go down; then more blue flashes released her from her chains, and she looked straight into dark eyes in a bright orange mask. "Greetings," it resounded in a calm, cheerful voice, just over the clash of weaponry now echoing through the entire tunnel.

"Greetings," Indil replied, still wide-eyed. "…Zola?" She'd seen Zola; slaves, darkly tattooed, very different from the brightly painted individuals now jumping between the earthen walls and raging about with unfamiliar weaponry… weaponry fluently changing form between strokes. At times similar blue shards were recovered from the Pit, but not in anywhere near comparable quantities.

All around her both elven and Zola slaves were freed, and most were also given weapons by their wild rescuers; hammers, axes and clubs, stolen from the fallen dwarves. Most immediately used those weapons the best they could. Indil had a whip in her hands before she knew it, and wrapped it around the throat of her next assailer with great content. Then she looked around.

Not all elves were so quick to cast off their slavish habits. Her friend, Miril, had been relieved of his chains, but still stood in the tunnel as if frozen in place, his pale face contrasting sharply with his dark hair. As she looked him in the eye he jolted and ran, in blind panic.

"Miril!" Indil outstretched her hand, but was then forced to defend herself further. Just to her right, her orange-masked rescuer went down, his skull crushed beneath a dwarven hammer. That same dwarf was soon troubled by something invisible ripping at his leather knee protectors, however, and then clawing up at his throat. First his beard was torn apart in an explosion of red hair, then his throat itself, in an explosion of something similar. And yellow eyes flared just above the body.

Indil almost felt her own golden eyes glow in response. "Minions? But then…"

"No more fighting against you, elfie," the Minion hissed. "Strange for both, yes?"

She'd hated Estell for his escape for weeks. Now she started to change her mind.

The Pit had broken out into chaos. Airships swarmed around above it, and at times bombs still rained down, but the sheer amount of pohea blinding the pilots and ripping the balloons was endless; Estell and Shadow had first perfected their domination on them, and saw the overpowering of the little flyers as a mundane task to kill time by now.

Ariki was halfway down by now, beating aside dwarves and their smaller machines where he went. Diggers from the tunnels crashed on the rocks in flames multiple times, and the crab's deep blue eyes were shrouded by smoke. The king strode on calmly, his escort behind and ahead of him; the Zola and Minions dove into the tunnels everywhere, and now the slaves started coming out, armed with dwarven hammers and whips, or their own picks and shovels. Some elves were rendered speechless as they saw Estell and all the Minions around him, others cheered loudly, and some others actually sang. The Overlord was baffled in his turn as some called woody roots from the Pit's walls, and others flung around small, bright flashes of light – they had their magic back!

Shadow soared up at him. "This is going well," he grinned.

"Are the greens in all of the tunnels?"

His counterpart nodded. "Some are still killing dwarves at the entrances, but there's Minions in all deeper parts too. They're ready." He glanced down. "That's looking good too."

Then a rumble coursed through the walls just ahead of Ariki. Metal burst through earth and rock; pointy, and spinning rapidly. Drills. A few Zola jumped atop the frontmost, but their weapons could not wrench open the hatch at the top. Two elven plant singers tried to stop the machines with coils of hardwood, but only succeeded for a few seconds. Ariki still strode on. As he reached the machines, the crab swiped his opponent off the spiralling path and into the deep, but two others drilled through the wall just next to him, and the spinning metal bit into his legs. The king crab slumped to the side.

Shadow's eyes flared. "I don't think so." He shot ahead, right through the first digger, and into the head of its driver. The digger jolted and swayed, and then flew after his predecessor, into the Pit itself. Ariki turned against the second and cut it open. The damage to his legs was minimal.

Shadow flowed back up in a smoky coil, re-joining Estell. The elf was in the middle of a lethal strike; his spear rippled and deformed with the fear of his dwarven victim, but then the black smoke shot through the helmeted head, and the dwarf's broad hands grasped the spear to ram it through his chest himself. Shadow laughed as he took his true form again. Estell smiled at him. "You're getting better at this." Then he jolted; a heavy axe slammed into his back, but his living armour reacted quickly. The elf spun around and lunged at his attacker. The spear pierced a beard, then a throat. More dwarves followed the first, but Estell sent his Minions towards them and ran ahead to keep up with Ariki himself. With that, he passed a tunnel where roots and vines wrenched out, like tentacles dragging something bigger into the light. Soon that something came to sight; a group of elves, among which two familiar faces Estell had missed – Isil and Ructa. He abruptly halted and hurried over to them.

He was greeted with wide eyes. The duo didn't look too good; Isil was pale, with dark rings around his eyes and clearly weakened, and Ructa struggled just to keep on her feet. Still they beamed as they recognized him. Estell hugged them both. "I'm sorry I took so long."

"We tried to find you, escaped for a day," Ructa uttered. "That was when they mangled us… and cut out Isil's tongue for starting the plant singing amongst us." She trembled in his arms. "He taught us, but he'll never sing again himself."

Estell broke the embrace and stared at Isil in horror. The plant singer looked back sadly, but managed a slight smile. The Overlord clenched his jaws. "We'll repay them for that." He turned to the edge of the spiralling path and cut down two dwarves, then took their axes from their dead hands.

"Here, a chance to do the same. But be careful." He squeezed Ructa's shoulder. "It's almost over."

"I knew you had good reason to stay away," Ructa smiled.

"We're going home," Estell promised them. Then he sprinted away, further downwards.

Chitlin had never done anything like this. She had to give it to her new Master; his style was unexpected. He mainly used her clan to free and protect elves and humans, instead of killing them indifferently. She hadn't participated in a mission before – she'd been born on Maesmaer and had made it to the top of her clan by means of pure adaptation – but killing was in her blood, mainly humans and elves. In this fight the air was full of screams, and her claws dripped with blood, but her new Master's plan did entail keeping the major part of her clan deeper in the tunnels; until Ariki reached the bottom of the Pit, in any case. She could barely wait for that moment, and it was also getting harder and harder to keep the less disciplined Minions at their posts. Because of this she made rapid rounds along the walls, hissing and growling in warning to stationed clan members about to leave the tunnels. At the same time she did what she could in battle; swinging by in invisibility and clawing at every bit of exposed skin, throat or knee or heel, it didn't matter. At times she was assisted by her wildly jumping mate, Nex, and his brother and sister. The shadow weavers used their silk to blind the dwarves, make them trip, or even clog up the inner workings of their smaller diggers.

Each time she shot past the walls she could see the huge blue crab beneath her, with his entourage of elves and Zola. A few greens jumped around them, and the other crabs had also spread out around Ariki to defend the king. She knew the crab was part of a plan to weaken the entire dwarven town at once, but she'd still have preferred to do it up close…
Then something suddenly came very close to the king crab. A steel flash from high above them, at the edge of the Pit, tumbling down through shrouds of mist and all the windings of the spiralling path – and then another, and another.

The dwarves of Ruvalk had sent out their mechs; robotic contraptions with claws and axe blades at the end of their arms, the controller halfway up with his hands at the levers. As a faraway colony without much trouble from the outside – until today, that way – they didn't have many, but these three were already quite the problem. Only one of them had landed in front of Ariki, but the outstretched metal claw already forced back the crab's huge pincer with an alarming cracking sound. The other two, behind him, pulled on his legs and tried to force him down. Chitlin widened her eyes and hissed in fury. She hurried down as fast as she could, but was distracted halfway by a fight between Nex, Ssirin and more dwarves than they could handle. Technically her Master wasn't in any danger yet, and she couldn't lose the weavers… but then Estell did join the fight with the mechs, and Chitlin could do nothing but swear wildly and try to get out of her own skirmish. Ssirin acquired a deep gouge across her chest and collarbone, but Nex blinded the attacker and Chitlin clawed through his throat. At the same time, half a winding beneath them, Ariki wrenched his pincer from the mech's metal grip and closed his own claw around the steel arm in turn. A crack, the tortured howl of bent metal… and the mech was short an arm. The green leader caught Estell's elated cry, even as the elf tried to ram his spear through the chest of his own mech-controlling target and Chitlin finished her own battle. She helped Ssirin wrap her own silk around the wound and flew down again, Nex close on her heels.

Estell hadn't succeeded in killing his victim, and now had to struggle to keep the shaft of his spear out of reach of the mech. He clumsily balanced on the contraption's rounded knee, eyes locked with the controller, about to fall back at any time. Then the elf saw an opportunity and desperately threw himself forward. He shoved his spear between two gears, reached forward even further and closed his black hand around his victim's bald head. Briefly they both hung there, limp like ragdolls, but then their eyes blinked open again. The dwarf shook his head wildly, but then nodded at the Overlord and turned his mech against the second machine behind Ariki. There, Nyarai tried to nail the controller to his seat with her weapon, and as she succeeded and the mech sank down, Estell's victim kicked the entire machine into the Pit's depth. Then the contraption turned against the dwarves further behind.

At the same time Ariki wrenched off his own opponent's second arm, and forced the machine down with two of his walking legs before simply striding over it. The journey down continued, and Estell and Nyarai climbed atop the crab. Estell needed some help from Nyarai; he was still dizzy after his domination.

"I'd leave the athletic stuff to the Minions and Zola, Sire," Gnarl hinted. "That hand is a handicap."

"I agree completely," the elf smiled as he straightened out on Ariki's back. "Sometimes I don't have much of a choice, though."

He looked down; it wasn't far to the bottom of the Pit now, where a network of metal pipes vanished even deeper into the earth and came together in a heaving pump mechanism. These pumps made sure the Pit didn't flood with the ever-present water of sinking Maesmaer; they collected it all and led it up, right through Ruvalk and to the sea. They were also connected to all of Ruvalk itself; as Estell had only just arrived and had been dragged through town, he'd seen the burbling pipes absolutely everywhere, and they could use some repairs in many cases, as they'd usually leaked muddy water.

Chitlin reached them and hooked on at Ariki's armour. "Good fight, Master." Nex ran along via the wall, claws and silk gripping on to earth, rock and steel.

"Are you happy?" the elf asked. "Enough blood for you?"

The Minion made an unsure gesture, but then grinned. "Will be enough soon."

Estell smiled. "Is the clan still in position?"

"All tunnels, Master. Waiting for command."

The Overlord looked ahead and narrowed his eyes. "Good."

The dwarves barely tried to stop them anymore now. Most of them had figured out what they were trying to do – or at least part of their plan – and used the time left to them to flee up, and the minority that still tried to fight was rapidly taken out by Ariki, the crabs behind him or the Zola. The majority of the greens was in the tunnels now, but not for long.

Ariki clambered onto the huge pumping contraption at the bottom of the Pit with clicking legs, with the same calm ease with which he'd climbed up to the lake of Ata Doronn two weeks earlier. A sky-blue pincer reached up and closed around the central pipeline, thick as a tree.

Estell looked up and felt the crab strain himself. That same pincer had severed his hand with the greatest ease, and he'd just seen how the same could happen to a mech's arm. This was harder, but certainly not impossible to the king of the delta. Metal and chitin both gnashed and creaked, and the elf tensed up as he saw the pincer's blue ridges crack and thin layers of armour crumble away – but Nyarai squeezed his shoulder in comfort, and as if she had a hand in it, the metal started giving. Ariki was stronger. The pipe bent, bolts shot away to all sides, and water gushed from the dark, rusty opening now coming to sight like lifeblood…
Estell clenched his remaining hand into a fist – the hand bearing the amber gem. The unworldly stone flashed and turned a toxic green. The unspoken command shot through the Pit – Minions. Now.

The water was absorbed by the bottom of the Pit at first, but then started forming a smooth surface – a rising surface. Estell could also feel the Minions obeying him, however. "Time to go," he spoke nervously, a hand on the armour underneath him. Ariki got to his feet again, and the same went for the warriors still on the spiralling path.

Then undulating, frothing clouds of green gas burst from all the side tunnels, forced from the depths by the green Minions like Estell had seen them doing in the caves underneath the multi-coloured swamp. The gas streamed into the central Pit, guided by the greens, flowing down the walls like ghostly waterfalls. Estell focused on the amber gem again. "To the pipe, before the opening's submerged!"

The Minions obeyed him and led the gas to the spot where the pump had been attached, forcing it inside as if through a funnel. It flowed across the shallow water and spurted into the pipe, and up; every crack and flaw in the metal whistled with it. Estell stared up, grinning. "Hold your breath now, Ruvalk."

Then a metal chain clattered against the busted pump next to him. He looked up. Far overhead, Kaalu hung over the Pit's edge. "Grab on, you have to see this!"

The elf grasped the chain with his one hand, Nyarai followed. Then the chief dragged them up, and they left Ariki behind to plod up by himself – not something he'd have a hard time with. The Pit was being left by now, and the battle moved to Ruvalk itself. Green Minions scrambled from the tunnels everywhere, hurrying up, away from the rising water. The dwarven machinery didn't stand a chance in here.

Then the Overlord reached the Pit's edge and Kaalu pulled him and Nyarai onto the pulsing pipe leading out, towards the sea, towards Ruvalk. The elf grinned. The dwarven harbour town started to acquire a nice green hue through the dissolving mist.

Ruvalk fumed with the toxic gas. It gradually climbed higher and higher, from every point where the pipelines had originally transported water away; that water now burbled up and into the streets everywhere, but the dwarven and human inhabitants cared very little for that as they were far busier not suffocating. The higher floors of most buildings were still safe, and dwarves were gearing up their mechs wherever they could to get a little higher up as well. They had to get to the Pit in order to confront Estell, however, and the clouds were thickest there. Just inside a window with a green marble windowsill, a caged bird had serious trouble staying conscious, his one eye watery with the billowing gas. He could just see human figures, huge crabs, and smaller creatures that had to be Minions running away from the Pit in a wild procession, the Minions creating islands of clean air around themselves. The sound of weaponry and war cries moved past the head overseer's villa, further into town.

Then a clear singing voice resounded through the chaos, and Arandor abruptly looked down. There, in the villa's garden, a few plants thickened into a woody, blue and black claw, rapidly growing upwards, and in its palm were three elves. Ructa was singing them up with all the force she could muster, Isil looked up at him in horror, and Estell… Estell was crouched down, his hand on the middle of the claw; a black hand, seemingly charred in some demonic fire.

Then they reached his level and Estell flicked open the cage. "Hello, Arandor."

The bird fell limp as hands lifted him from the cage. He was dimly aware the elves stepped through the window and laid him out on something soft – probably Osnorth Noth Bomrek's huge bed – and the transformation process started all by itself, now he finally had the room for it.

The dwarves had mangled him for two weeks, gradually pulling out all his feathers, scorching out his eye and clipping off a few toes, but now that Arandor took his elven form again all that reversed itself. He briefly blinked his ruined eye and realized he could see depth again. All his fingers and toes returned, his clothes materialized…

He coughed. "Am I glad this form isn't affected when they mess up my bird," he uttered in a hoarse voice. He rose from the bed and embraced the trio. "Estell, by the gods. I thought we'd lost you."

"I've been trying to get back since the very night I left," the Overlord spoke in his friend's short blond hair. "Sorry it took me this long."

"I'm fine now," the skinchanger smiled. He looked up at Isil and Ructa. "And you…"

Ructa shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "As soon as the blues get here. But Isil…" She looked at the former plant singer in pity. "They cut out his tongue."

"The bastards," Arandor growled. His eyes shone. "I've enjoyed the battle down there, Estell. I don't know what you've been doing, but I'm very glad we can finally stand our own now." He seemed to remember something. "Better than ever, in fact. Osnorth keeps the gate seeds here." He hurried over to a desk at the other window, a tall thing, covered in engraved runes and the stylised whip of Noth Bomrek. After a brief rummage he held up the little pouch Isil had worn around his neck.

"They kept them?" Estell spoke incredulously. It barely got through to him. "…We can go home! Faster than by ship!"

"They hoped they could use them for themselves, to get to the domain," Arandor nodded. He took out a seed and handed it to Ructa. "I assume they tried to get you to sing for them."

Isil nodded at once, briefly touching his throat. Ructa understood. "They tried to… persuade us both. Luckily the others kept their talent a secret." She closed her hand around the seed. "Let's find a good spot."

Estell looked up. "You hear that, Gnarl? Whoever wants to join, let them come."

"I've already spread the message, Sire," the advisor grinned. "It was my pleasure to wake up your troops." A brief pause. "They're raring to go."

As the four of them left the villa they stepped toward a fuming battlefield, but the Overlord found a horde of green Minions waiting for him, able to protect him from the gas. Estell looked around and tried to gauge the situation. "Where's Ariki?" he asked his Minions.

"Market square," one of them hissed. "Making a big mess."

"Great." It was not part of the plan to keep Ruvalk intact, especially not now; Estell wanted to go back to Kadath from here, and he didn't want to leave any dwarves to use or destroy the flower gate. He also wanted to plant a gate back at Katoa, but not today. Today he was going home at last…

"Perk, Sai, go with these three." He glanced at Isil, Ructa and Arandor. "Plant the gate somewhere safe and out of sight. Take all the greens you meet to protect the others coming through."

Ructa nodded. "Good luck, Estell."

"I'll see you soon." As they disappeared into an alley, the Overlord turned back to the battle. It was the biggest chaos he'd seen so far; dominated by the crabs and mechs, towering over fighting elves, Zola, Minions and dwarves without machines. At ground level the greens created an ever-changing pattern of toxic gas and clean air, the fumes billowing up high where the Minions forced them together. As the battle had started half the Pit had been lost in white mist, but now all of Ruvalk was blanketed by thick green clouds.

"It's custom for an Overlord to wear a cloth before the mouth, Sire," Gnarl remarked.

"Oh, yes? Does that help?"

"…I think it mainly contributed to an ominous reputation or a secret identity. It was never really practical, especially in a tropical climate like that."

Estell chuckled. "Oh well… they know who I am anyway. It's a bit late for secrecy." He fell silent for a moment. "Idea…"

"Plans for the future, Sire?" Gnarl emitted a sound of appreciation. "You're a promising strategist." The plan to take the Pit had been mainly devised by Estell, and both the Overlord and the advisor were pleasantly surprised by its success thus far.

The elf stepped forward. "Yes… a nice little plan. But we'll talk about that tonight, the two of us." He swept back his arm and performed a flashing manoeuvre with his spear, surprising and then killing a distracted dwarf. "Pay attention," Estell remarked. "I know the crabs are impressive, but I was closer." He spun around and defended himself against a heavy club with the shaft, without losing his smile.

"Just the two of us… I can't wait, Sire," Gnarl chuckled.

Estell duelled on enthusiastically, fervently trying to get closer to the heart of the battle. He wondered how much would be needed to get the dwarves to surrender and leave…

His Zola-taught method of spear fighting served him well now. He used the tip to keep his opponents at a distance, but as expected, the dwarves' first tactic was to try and get past that tip. As the elf fought his way to the center of Ruvalk he got tangled up with multiple dwarves at once, and they managed to do so. Luckily he had another weapon between them and his vital organs.

"Didn't you figure it out? Inky black hand, do you really want to get closer to that?" Estell harshly grabbed his opponent's face and felt himself go limp. He fought to stay awake and fend off half of the dwarves as it grew darker before his eyes and his Minions took over some of them. Shadow had mentally joined him, even as his counterpart was busy elsewhere in the battle; Estell hoped he too was keeping an eye on reality. They'd practiced this, but hadn't yet taken on minds as strong as a dwarf's.

Together they wiped away the victim's years of life, soared past unnecessary memories and then found what they needed. They spread their arms. "You're ours."

Estell blinked, completely back in the present, barely a heartbeat after he'd left it. His opponent whirled around and attacked his former allies, and the elf enjoyed a brief breather as he ran after the dwarf, in the wake of baffled wounded and some dead he left behind. He disoriented the ones who still tried to attack him with a brief touch, kicking them aside or killing them swiftly afterwards. The Minions stayed with him in a group of at least ten at a time, helping him move even faster.

Inlaid mosaic beneath his feet, market stalls and tall houses to the sides; it wasn't far now. The green fumes whirled back, and all at once Estell saw Ariki straight ahead, tall as some of the houses, and quite busy smashing them up.

He ran up via a pyramid-shaped pile of rubble and a few semi-intact market stalls and leaped to Ariki's back, straightening out there. "Do you surrender?" he called out. "Give me every slave from the Pit and leave this town, and no one needs to die anymore. I'll let you return to Stodir."

Dwarven swearing was his answer, loudly and from every corner of the square. "This is ridiculous!" a red-bearded individual shouted. Next to him a mech collapsed, attacked from three sides by green grazer crabs. "We don't surrender to your kind!"

"My kind." Estell briefly struggled to keep his balance as Ariki ferociously lunged forward, splitting open a small digger. "My kind has the advantage now, and we'll keep it. I'd reconsider my priorities if I were you, gentlemen."

In the meantime, Nyarai and Shadow kept busy at the outskirts of town, still halfway to the Pit where the gas was thickest. Shadow didn't need fresh air, but a few Minions did keep close to Nyarai at all times. That made the battle slightly easier, too, though neither of them lacked for bloodlust or skill. Nyarai was laughing as she knocked out dwarves with the back of her weapon and relieved them of their lives with the sharp edges, and Shadow flashed through all the heads he could reach in great plumes of black smoke, lingering in one of them at times to fight in a material body. At times Estell called on him and he was briefly disoriented, but all in all they'd adapted to this new style quite well. Shadow was planning to keep close to his counterpart in the future, but today it wasn't really necessary.
Then the three elves came past them and Shadow suddenly heard his name. He looked around, recognizing Arandor, Isil and Ructa. And behind them…

The first he recognized was Ramah, with Masud close behind. The prince and his bodyguard flashed their curved blades above their heads, cutting a bloody path towards the Zola and her Shadow. Ramah grinned his blinding grin. "Shadow, good to see you!"

"And you, Ramah," he beamed incredulously. "Is there a way to Kadath, then?"

"Ructa sang us a gate," the prince nodded. "Reinforcements are here." Indeed, along with the two Ruborians came the elves from Kadath; Talmar and the others who'd made it from Stodir before Estell had been caught, though Miruvor was missing. Shadow had heard the crippled elf could walk again, and even fight reasonably well, but he hadn't expected him to join this one anyway. But where he was absent, the blue Minions were all the more present… glowing brightly, running through everything and everyone, dragging dead and wounded Minions from the fray on all sides. Some greens smiled widely through their pain upon recognizing old friends, and the horde as a whole fought with new determination now the two clans were finally reunited.

At least, until the new dwarves arrived.

"Cease fighting," a deep voice thundered over the clash of weaponry, the screams and laughter. "Order, at once, or the Hive dies!"

Shadow froze, all the warriors on Ruvalk's outskirts with him. He slowly turned in the air.

"Hadn't thought we'd find it, did you?" A true procession of dwarves emerged from the green clouds, protected from them by something now being carried into sight. "We know how it works, you beardless rats. The Hive isn't in his domain yet, so the Minions need to stay close to it. We knew the thing had to be here somewhere."

They had the Hive. The greens' origin of life stood atop one of the smaller diggers like a gleaming trophy, slowly rolling into Ruvalk, and six dwarves kept flamethrowers pointed at it from both sides at all times. Everywhere weapons were lowered, and the green Minions stared up at their Hive with wide eyes. Nyarai was tense as a bowstring, but she didn't move a muscle.

Shadow drifted into a wall very slowly. They hadn't seen him, amidst all the green fumes.

"Didn't keep it hidden well enough," he muttered to himself. "Dammit." Then he shot off, to the heart of the battle – a battle falling silent everywhere the Hive went.

Estell could hear from Ariki's back something wasn't right behind them. Just before, Ruvalk had resounded with enthusiastic war cries, the hissing of Minions and the cheering of the Zola, but now even the crabs were stumbling to a halt. Barely a second after that, Shadow joined him, his eyes wide and constantly looking back nervously. "Bad news, Estell. They found the Hive."

"What?!" The elf turned around. Over the remains of a collapsed building and through the thinning green mist, he could see the procession approaching. Everyone started gathering in the crumbling arena Ariki had turned the market square into; Minions, elves, Zola, and now also the group from Kadath that'd arrived through Ructa's flower gate. Estell's eyes met Ramah's, and for a moment a smile flew across his face, but it died as the Hive came to sight.

From the ruins more dwarves joined the Hive's escort, dressed in Noth Bomrek's official colours. At their head was a grey-haired dwarf with the stylized whip of his clan emblazoned on his chest. "That must be the Hammer," Shadow muttered.

"It's over, Lord," the old dwarf spoke with a faltering voice. "Surrender or risk the destruction of the Hive."

"Listen to him, Sire," Gnarl spoke nervously. "If the Hive is damaged or dies… well, I don't know what will happen, but it'll certainly be a heavy blow to the clan, even if it doesn't immediately kill them all outright."

"I'm not planning to leave here without the Hive," Estell replied softly. "Shadow?"

His counterpart drifted closer.

"I'm afraid I'm not as quick as you." The elf looked at his Shadow sideways, and his eyes glowed slightly. "Not as fast in two ways. But if you show all of them how fast you are, I'll be glad to join you."

"I'll… try."

"What will it be?" the grey head overseer asked. "Surrender or the loss of half your troops?"

Estell realized this must be Osnorth Noth Bomrek, the dwarf who'd lived in the green and blue villa; the one who'd kept Arandor in a cage in his bedroom. Perhaps the one who'd slowly pulled out all those feathers. His eyes glowed brighter. "Shadow?"

The grey dwarf gave a command, and the six dwarves with flamethrowers who'd escorted the Hive formed a circle around the digger. The weapons were raised to the Hive, and Gnarl started babbling nervously. Estell shut out his voice and gave his counterpart a piercing look. "My persuasion will be there with you."

Shadow flashed down, a smoking arrow, a black fireball.

Osnorth widened his small eyes. "Fire!" he shouted.

The flamethrowers sputtered, and then roared with him…

…and Shadow shot through six heads in a wide circle, Estell collapsed to his knees on Ariki's back, and their combined strength had the six change their minds. All six spun around, and the flames never reached the Hive, but instead caught a victim just as surprised as the one holding the weapon… and a second later, in just as much pain. The six dwarves were swallowed in a ring of fire, screams ascended to the clear morning sky, and all hell broke loose.

Minions threw themselves onto the flaming remains and any dwarves anywhere near the Hive, with more murderous rage than Estell had been able to foresee. Zola weapons turned into azure flashes in the breaking sunlight, strangling vines and thorny branches sprouted to the voices of plant singers, and Estell let himself fall off Ariki's back dizzily. He took a moment to regain his balance, and then walked towards the grey dwarf, right through the chaos. The Hive, just behind him, was fiercely defended by Chitlin and her strongest clan members atop the digger itself. As the elf walked, Flitter flew past him and created fountains of blood from the opened chest and throat of one of the elite soldiers. Kaalu crossed his path, his huge weapon spinning ferociously and crushing one skull after the other. In some way, however, there was always an open path between Estell and the head overseer.

Then they came eye to eye. Shadow joined his counterpart, and together they calmly looked down at their opponent, consumed by panic, ready to run off, but without any semblance of safety to flee to.

"Do you surrender?"

"You'll never take Stodir," Osnorth choked out. "You're nothing before the king."

"We'll worry about that later," Estell replied. "I asked you something."

The grey dwarf looked around him. His city had collapsed long before, the same was happening to his troops now he had nothing left to threaten with. The Hive was so close, and so unreachable. Ariki was scything through all his heavy machinery, the Zola slaves were free, the elves had their magic back…

He nodded.

Estell's eyes flared. "Good." He looked up. "Ruvalk is ours!" he shouted.

It took some time for him to be heard, but Shadow also loudly spread the message through the air, and as soon as Kaalu joined his deafening shouts to it the fighting soon stopped. Estell remained with Osnorth, as Ariki towered over them like a silent, but very imposing guardian.

Soon Drip and Chitlin reached him, the horde leaders of two clans, finally united. Drip bowed before him with a grin. "That went well, Master."

Estell smiled. "It could've been better. I made a few beginner's mistakes."

"It happens to the best." Drip gave Chitlin a sideways glance; the green horde leader still panted with the effort she'd put into defending her Hive. "We're alive." The blue paused.

"How many of… us… will be alive at the end of the day?"

Estell cast a glance at Osnorth, shrinking away into his grey beard. "How many prisoners are we taking, you mean?" He crossed his arms. "Osnorth."

"Yes… Lord?"

"I'm keeping my promise. Load your dwarves onto your ships and leave."

"Really?" the dwarf and Gnarl said at once. The advisor coughed. "Sire, it's not my place to question your judgement, but…"

"I've seen enough blood for today. No worries," the elf smiled. "There will be enough to come. This quest is far from over."

"I trust you, Sire," the grey Minion smiled. "The ships it is."

"Seeing how we don't need them." Estell looked back and saw Ructa, and Ramah by her side. "That flower gate is very welcome." He looked around further, at all the green fumes still drenching Ruvalk. In the distant sky a few airships still drifted around, pursued by his pohea swarm, not aware of the defeat yet. "Hmm… but I think we'll have to plant another one."

"How come, Sire?"

"We can't just leave the city like this. You'll see."

There were quite a few heavy dwarven steamers in Ruvalk's harbour as Estell's army forced the defeated party to the sea, but they weren't enough to take all the dwarves back to the mainland. Eventually all the ships were packed full, but fifty-odd dwarves were still ashore.

Estell crossed his arms and looked at Osnorth. "Doesn't it fit, my lord Hammer?"

The old overseer was too ashamed to reply. Gnarl answered in his stead. "Sire, the Minions have been rather busy in Kadath. But they're all raring to join you on the battlefield now, even the youngest ones, seeing how well today went and all. And if they're not in the domain, whoever will take care of all these crumbling walls and collapsing ceilings? You must have a visibly improved domain upon returning from every battle, you deserve it."

Estell glanced at Shadow. "What a great idea, Gnarl," he chuckled. Both opened and closed their black hand briefly, then they turned on the dwarven stragglers.

As the ships had steamed off and the Overlord and his followers – and fifty-odd extra dwarves and their tools – returned through Ruvalk, they came upon a few elven corpses at the Pit's edge, some of which Estell recognized from his sea voyage. He didn't recall every name, but did remember almost all faces. And then he came past a very familiar body.

Long black hair, dark eyes that'd stared at him in fury for weeks, but that now blindly stared up at the sky. A grotesque stomach wound. Estell knelt down, as his troops streamed past him along the Pit. "Miril…" That was a slow death. He didn't deserve this.

Someone joined him. Long red hair fell past golden eyes. Indil sighed. "He didn't even want to fight."

Estell looked up at her. "But you did. You shared his opinion about me. That it was my fault we ended up on that ship, that I was worthless."

She laughed softly, wry and ashamed. "Until today. It's quite clear that's no longer true." She paused. "He'd given up weeks ago."

Estell jolted as he heard his own voice echo back at him. Gnarl, I'm sorry. It's over.
Before Nyarai had found him, he'd given up too. Leave me alone.

"He was a healer, did you know that? Before they took away his magic in Ruboria." Indil wiped aside some of Miril's dark hair. "And Isil… and Ructa, and Arandor… who did still believe in you, and even put their foolish lives at stake to find you… they found a way to give the others their magic back. But he wouldn't partake. He'd resigned to a life in the Pit." She looked at him. "He could've saved himself if only he'd still believed. He could've healed himself."

Estell stared down at the body. Here lies my old life. Here lies the elf who gave up. He clenched his one hand into a fist – he'd finally returned his shadow hand. "Indil…"

She flinched, but then straightened out above Miril. He followed her. "We don't look back."

"No," he replied. "The future's all we have."

They reached the other side of the Pit, where Ructa had already opened a second flower gate. Estell smiled as he saw the ethereal blue glow ahead. The petals were darker than he remembered, almost night blue. Perhaps a mirror of his magic. He realized everyone was still there; no one would pass through the gate without him.

"Are you going to tell us why you needed a second gate?" Gnarl then asked.

Estell turned back to Ruvalk, foggy green in the distance. Then he looked up. A blue pohea descended from the sky. He caught the creature with his gauntlet, and Shadow briefly stroked over the speckled shell. The flying crab ascended again.

A moment later the entire pohea swarm still half-heartedly pursuing the remaining airships turned against their victims in earnest, and small fires flared up, high up in the air. Then the balloons pulled down a smoky trail, to where the city lay marinated in gas, just waiting for a spark.

Estell laughed as the inferno sprang up and a mushroom cloud blossomed to the sky, and he laughed harder at Gnarl's baffled spluttering. "For you, advisor," he spoke. "For you and your bloodthirst."

"You shouldn't have, Estell," the grey Minion giggled. "You really shouldn't have."

And as Ruvalk's pipeline led the fire back to the Pit in a series of deafening explosions, Estell and his followers turned their backs on the dwarven town for good, and a thoroughly changed Overlord finally returned to his dry, subterranean, dark domain.

Maraxus: Impressive, that was one heck of a battle.

Gnarl: Indeed, our new Overlord has certainly come a long way.

Maraxus: He's got a long way to go but progress is progress.

Gnarl: That shall do us for now, review readers and we will see you next time.