He climbed the steps three at a time, pushed aside the wooden doors to the throne room, and looked about. Tessanna sat by the closed portal, absently running her fingers along the painted wall where it had been. Meanwhile, the laughing man in the corner had finally risen, and he greeted him at the door with a long bow.

“Mighty Thulos,” the man said, his eyes to the ground. “I am your most humble servant.”

“Rise, stranger,” Thulos said. “And tell me your name.”

“I am Velixar,” the man said, standing erect. Thulos wondered for a moment as he saw the man's eyes glow a deep crimson, his facial features slowly shifting and changing. With a wave of his hand, Thulos banished the illusion. He saw Velixar's true face and understood.

“Nothing but a lich,” Thulos said. “I have met your kind before. An annoyance at best. What is it you offer me in your servitude?”

“I am the one who opened the portal,” Velixar said as his shifting face returned. “I am the mouth of Karak, his greatest prophet.”

“Then you are worthy,” Thulos said. He drew his sword and saluted, for he would bow to no man. “Consider yourself an honored member of my guard. If you hear the voice of Karak, then I have much to discuss with you.”

His eyes hardened.

“Especially over the matter of his cowardice and departure.”

“Matters he is eager to discuss as well,” Velixar assured him.

Thulos sheathed his sword and turned to Tessanna, who appeared oblivious to his presence. Behind him, he heard one of his war demons land, ready with word of greeting and report of casualties. He held up a hand, silencing him, his eyes never leaving the strange woman. He walked over, spun her around, and flung her against the wall.