Below a hundred feet of earth, a small chamber in the underground city was privy to an elegiac gathering of a few men. The archdruid stayed long after the others left, studying maps and scout reports. A noble effort, to be sure, but a futile one. There could be no great tricks or strokes of luck to spare these people from the war's toll; half the foraging parties they sent out were ambushed and killed. It would only be a matter of time before they either starved cowering in the darkness or were found and massacred, like the kinsmen in their village. 

Shaige had found their village after some searching. He had only needed to follow the dreary wisps of smoke; what buildings the crusaders hadn't spared were still smoldering and sizzling. The wooden beams and supports within the building were nigh instantly seared to charcoal by fire magic, and as the sad mounds of ashes scattered to the wind, the coals beneath could breathe and give birth to new flames. The cycle had continued for weeks, in some of the larger buildings. What buildings weren't burned were crowded with soldiers. The Knights of the Flame, as the crusaders called themselves, shined their gilded armor. The fire priests sent from their cathedral in Paterdomus to lead the crusade gave sermon after sermon. Every knight was blessed in the name of Caldor, their patron god of warmth and purity. The dead crusaders were honored and sent to Caldor in great pyres, while the impious denizens of this village were left by their conquerors to decompose in great mounds of rotting corpses.

To the surviving tribesmen, the ones who fled underground with the druids, Shaige was their only hope. So when he came to Fangir, the solemn archdruid and chieftain, after some time the men accepted the Keeper's offer of help. 

Late into the night, though the cave looked no different, Fangir was beginning to fall asleep. He did not extinguish the magical orb of light in the corner of his room. To dispel it would be to invite complete darkness. Insanity, cold, and death. Nonetheless, the orb's light began to sputter. It grew and warped, its light flickering, until there stood a black silhouette of a humanoid creature, the deep violet glow of its eyes the only thing illuminating the room. For a moment, the thing stood silent and unmoving, and then a voice rasped from deep within the shade, [b]"What do your people call themssselves?"[/b] The being's serpentine, lisping voice was hypnotic in a way, but cold and foreboding in all others.

Shaige expected the archdruid to be mortified and stammer something incomprehensible. However, the chieftain's chestnut hair, bright eyes, tanned skin, an brawny form concealed his age and experience well. The man boomed, "We are the Mutig, and we possess no fear of your kind, snake! Begone now, lest I banish you back to the demonic realm from whence you were spawned."

With a patient and unfazed tone, the Keeper replied, [b]"Sssoon enough you would be the dead, your namesss and tribesss and facesss long forgotten after the mere blink of an eye. I know that you do not fear me or the shadowsss that are my home, and that is why I shall aid your lossst tribe. I am no sssnake demon; only a shadow. You see the shapes of a shadow and envision whatever you want to see; I utter some words and you hear them in the voice that you expect to hear."[/b]

"Then what do you want?" Fangir hissed, still suspicious.

[b]"For now? I require nothing from you. I am not a demon, so I do not require any promises or pacts or riches from you. I will rid your land of the egregious 'crusaders' that burned your village and slew your clansmen, and make sure that they do not return. You will have nothing to fear from the other tribes, either. They are cowards and scavengers, trying to seize land that they have no claim over and didn't even bleed to take. They are not worthy of this land, and so I will not allow them to have it,"[/b] the shadow spoke, his form growing and shrinking as the magical light flickered like a candle. After a pregnant pause he went on, [b]"I would hope that once I have saved you, I will have your trust and you will support me as your tribe's salvation and divine-"[/b]

"So there it is- you too would have us as slaves, and force us to abandon our ancient guardian spirits! I see that you are a de-" Fangir interrupted, until he looked closely and saw the figure of a kindly old man rather than the menacing silhouette of a monster. He also realized that in his anger, he hadn't even noticed the snake-like lisp gradually transition into a deep, calming one. Fangir calmed himself, and thought for some time. Shaige was as silent as when he first appeared, waiting for what he knew Fangir would respond with.

"What must I do?"

[b]Go with your druids to the hidden entrance of this cavern, up in the cliffs above, and wait. The red priests and their knights already know that you are here; I witnessed them preparing for battle. Tomorrow night they will come by the hundreds. With my warning you will be prepared, but you and your druids would be slain quickly and mercilessly, once the charge begins. So I will come at about midnight, and bring death's cold clasp unto every priest garbed in red. I shall summon my servants as well. They shall fall upon the fleeing ranks of knights, and cut down every last crusader. The ground shall be stained crimson, the color of their false god of fire."[/b]