>>5697759The only thing in your possession that matches the description would be the tome you’d retrieved from Diogenes’ lab. The question though is how would she know about that? It was possible she really was a clairvoyant, perhaps much like Yara. Or was she an Agarthan? You didn’t have enough information to make an accurate call, and even if you did, you were still at a grave disadvantage. You decide on answering Leif’s question with another half-truth.
>“We do have the tome in question, and we are making breakthroughs on reversing its effects.”“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Maeve’s piercing scream startles you. The Oracle has fallen to the snowy ground, rolling around and wailing as if she were a child throwing a tantrum. The entire scene looks incredibly silly to you, but unfortunately, the warriors of Sreng seem to be taking it quite seriously. Many of them join in alongside her, clutching their heads and screaming at the top of their lungs. Leif spares the woman a glance of disgust before turning to you and giving you a familiar look. It’s the same way Corrine stares at you when you shirk your duties and make more work for her.
>“What is going on?”“The spirits of Sreng are communing with her.” Leif says unconvincingly.
Maeve gets back to her feet, dress covered in mud, her face red and tear stricken. She points at you once more with that shaky finger. “You heard her! She possesses the evil object. You must order the men to attack now! Kill them all and then let us seize the tome before it can fall into the wrong hands once more!”
This was bad. Leif didn’t seem to want a fight, but his men certainly did. Egged on by this supposed Oracle, each one of them was fully prepared to charge and attack. In your current state, defending the tower and surviving would be nigh impossible.
“Do the spirits tell you that we will emerge victorious and seize this…tome?” Leif asks Maeve.
“Yes! I see these villains destroyed, scattered to the winds! Their possessions become our own, and we hold that dreaded book over our heads in exalted victory!”
“And that’s what you see?” Leif asks once more.
“Yes!” Maeve insists.
“Dúirt tú go bhfuil cuid acu láidir?” Leif asks his cousin, switching back to his native tongue.
“Tá.” He responds with confidence. “B’fhéidir láidir mar ár gcuid féin.”
Leif, looking thoughtful, leaves your side to approach the massing hordes of Sreng warriors. Each one waits with bated breath, hoping to hear the command that will send them screaming for your throats. You spare a glance back at the Blackwings, who have set up formation at the foot of the tower. If you make a run for it, it’s possible you could reach them before the First Sword struck you down. Possible, but extremely difficult. The man was fast, and you get the feeling he may have even held himself back. As all eyes fall on the prince, he extends his arms out to address the crowd, and shouts.
