It was a pretty great day for Councillor Simer.

  He had been posted out here, like most of the councilmen, because his superiors hoped for this city to be as successful as possible, and he, as one of the leading generals on the now quiet western front, he knew the Marga the best among all Mummies, and they behaved exactly as he had suspected, sending everyone to the city that was not welcome in their empires heartland.

  And as everyone else trusted his judgement, and he knew everything there was to know about the eastern Marga, he had become the unofficial leader. The Guard were his peronal army, and not a single one of them would doubt his commands, and the other councillors asked him before they made any moves, mostly because anyone that disobeyed him had quickly found out how arrogant the Marga actually were.

  Thus, it was quite surprising when a young Marga was sent into his home, and just as he wanted to reprimand what was probably a new recruit for his actions, he stopped himself.

  Were he still a mortal, all colour would have washed from the war councillor's face as he took in the fool that dared disturb him.

  For what he saw in the recruits facetted eyes was something only a few Marga ever showed.

  He looked concerned, and even the stupidest Mummy would be told that Margan soldiers are incapable of showing emotions.

  A belief even spread amongst the Marga themselves.

  Learning that a race he thought he knew everything about had faces capable of fear and depsiar was not the worst surprise Simer would have that day.

  As the soldier caught his breath, his words froze even his bodyguard for a split second.

  "S... Sir, Unknown Crusaders are at the gate, asking for shelter and food. We can not confirm their race, as we have never seen people like them before. They seem to be part of the nights shadows, melding perfectly with it as soon as we look away. And they are capable of talking as one, so they might be a hive minded folk, though I am unsure right now. The guard captain thought we should ask a counclil member on how to proceed, so I came to you immediately."

  The recruit was shivering the entire time, hoping that the undead in front of him knew how to deal with this.

  As the situation was described to him, Councillor Simer stood up and gestured for the recruit to lead him.

  With his bodyguard at his back and following the margan guard, the direction was easier to see than expected. The closer they got to their goal, the thicker the crowd of people grew that tried to see what had happened, drawing more and more citizens in that direction. It took at least half an hour to complete the track through the city. His speed was fast, but his position demanded of him to walk. The last time a Councillor had been seen running, the resulting panic took days to calm down and lead to a few deaths.

  When he finally arrived at the gate that the rucus was happening on, he was greeted with a sight he did not expect to see.

  The bells where sounded three times, normally the all-clear sign. It was as if the darkness spewed forth the abominations. The shadowy silhouettes were accompanied by the sound of stone hitting stone, and the machine like humming reminded him of an alien marching song more than anything.

  If they intended to intimidate him and his soldiers, they were on the right track.

  "We Are the Larv."

  One said, the others seeming to follow his example and reproduce the words.

  "They didn't know our language before."

  One of the guards told him, visibly confused as the strangers continued their speech, now talking as one.

  "We are heading north to take claim of lands that should be ours and punish those worshipping the gods for their stupidity. We will know you as friends of ours if you let us rest for the day. If this city of yours has any underground water storage, we would be happy to inhabit it."

  Now the former general was confused, though the bandages hid his emotions well.

  "We do not know of anyone to the north worshipping false gods."

  The resulting hisses could only be considered as cursing, and even though he didn't understand a single word out of the whole minute of pretty agrassive sounds, he felt very offended. At least until the figure that seemed to be their leader stepped in.

  All it took for everyone to quiet down was a slight vibrating from him, a monotonous sound that slowly got louder, until everyone else stopped their discussions and joined in, at which point the Larv gave a creepy imitation of a chuckle.

  "Don't worry about it, I think to you it is most important that we want to exterminate those born of snow and lay claim to the lands bordering the Kingdom, and that your sewage system is enough to house us for a day. I am open for further negotiations from that time onwards, though we prefer humid climates to the heat this place is known for. Who we worship can be the talk of future encounters, as I prefer not to declare a sacred war on people who might be friendly. We will make sure the Champion wars end early this century, and you will have a pretty decend army to support yours, and although I won't say what we do, I recommend you don't touch us, and generally refrain from physical contact."

  Councillor Simer's head was spinning as he let the strangers in. What they said hurt his head more than it should, and it felt like a melodic recitation of one of those Margan contracts they prided themselves in.

  All he understood was that they wanted to be left alone in their sewers, something that sounded like a great deal in exchange for not being attacked by an ocean of black, slimy people. He did not notice how the agreement planted a seed within him, a seed for something strange that would grow whenever he accepted something the other commanded him to do.

  And thus, they opened the gates for the strangers, and just as the sun crossed the horizon, the last of them disappeared into the lands beneath.

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