We have to move on our plan, first thing tomorrow, no matter what Fodafa’s army does. The Daedra captured Gront, the Titan from the jungles west of here. They have him chained in the parade grounds that butt up against this house, separating us from the palace.

He’s standing at the center of the open space on a platform that can barely hold his weight, surrounded by thousands of Daedra who watch him silently. Expectantly. They believe this will be their final ritual, the overture that draws a Demon from the depths of the Dread and into reality. For all we know, they could be right.

Their activity was so focused on the Titan that we were able to sneak out of hiding and make for the roof. We watched them guide him into the square before lashing him to four posts at its center. He hasn’t stopped moaning since. The sound is loud, low, and as pitiable as any captive mortal might make. Wudan was so moved to pity that he nearly lost control of the damper on his power. I empathize, but we can’t afford that yet.

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Gront is thousands of years old. The very thought of his death is a tragedy in itself. The fact that it could happen at the hands of the Daedra in order to draw forth a Demon makes it horrific. Freeing Gront isn’t an option with the masses surrounding him. We could try to kill him from a distance, but they would still be able to get his blood.

We need Fodafa to force them into an engagement. He was supposed to do so today. I fear we offer too little to this fight, and far too late.

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