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"We are losing," the Highlord said calmly.

"Of course not, Mystic One," the general replied, fear showing on his face. "The vermin continue to fall before our armies!"

"All of them?"

The general's eyes flicked towards his companion. The Highlord's back was to them; it was impossible to tell what his feelings were.

The masked sorcerer swiftly answered for his faltering counterpart. "The Impure Ones still show resistance, but they are no true threat to our might."

"Are they not?" The Highlord's voice had dropped to a whisper. "They rose up to face us where none others could... They resist our weapons, destroy our people, and constantly adapt to meet our strategies... I have been forced to slay entire armies for their refusal to meet this enemy in battle...and yet, you say that they are no threat?"

"The vermin defeated them once; it is in their histories!" the general cried, in outrage. "It is but a terrible accident that these creatures are even ranked among our foes!"

The Highlord turned then, with a slight smile upon his face. "You have no respect for them, then?"

He stared at his leader in shock, frozen.

"You may speak freely."

"The Impure Ones are--" The general shook his head as though unable to come up with adequate words, and made a retching noise.

"They're impure," the sorcerer finished.

The Highlord's eyebrows lifted slightly. "That much, I had gathered from the name you have cast upon them."

"They are unnatural!" he continued vehemently. "Abominations! A plague on all life! A black taint to be purged from this universe!"

Waiting patiently until his tirade was over, the Highlord said, "Yes, you have certainly made the point as to why they must be eliminated with the others." His voice hardened. "Yet as much as it seems to pain you to discuss them, they are a problem that must be dealt with!

"The threat lies with the ones who call themselves the 'Death Squad,' the humans."

The sorcerer groaned, a violent shudder of horror wracking his body. "Speak not of that atrocity," he whispered.

"They are not humans, Mystic One" the general said firmly. "While this supposed 'Death Squad' has devastated us in many battles, they are undeniably the Impure Ones acting on a new strategy--namely, one of fear."

"No," the sorcerer gasped hoarsely. "Some of mine attacked their madman! The survivors reported everything; they felt the human's mind!"

"As it is with all of the Impure Ones!" the general snapped. "Did you not pay attention to your own reports of what happened when ours were taken?"

"Have you paid no attention to the reports from the battles? They do not fight in the same way!"

"Even the vermin would not cross such a line--"

"They have awakened the most terrible nightmare to fight us--"

"Enough!" the Highlord shouted, finally tiring of their debate. "My patience is reaching an end! The Impure Ones are no threat, you say, and the humans are but vermin, and yet the thought of an alliance between the two cripples you to the point where you cannot even discuss it! Fools! Cowards!

"The Death Squad is not a fear tactic, being used by the vermin for convenience. They are the product of an active partnership, and everything that makes either side dangerous is theirs to command on the battlefield!

"However... As my spies have reported, there is one among them who feels much as you two do."

He pressed a button, and a hologram appeared in front of them. The general and sorcerer both flinched and looked away.

"Look at the image," the Highlord said icily.

When they tremulously complied, he ordered, "Memorize the human's face. She is the one who must be found the next time our forces meet in battle."

"How can this help us?" the general asked.

The Highlord ignored him. "You--make sure your sorcerers understand what to do. The attack on her mind must be subtle, comparable to an incision rather than impalement. They must attempt to sever her link without letting her realize what is happening."

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

The sorcerer had begun to back away; sweating, he halted his steps. "The disastrous attempt on the madman was very clear in the reports. The other will know what is happening, and--"

"That is the point," the Highlord replied smoothly.

"Mystic One?"

"Keep her unaware, leave her only with her fears and doubts, and who will the human fight, in that struggle?"

The sorcerer blinked. "Oh," he finally said.

"Go, both of you," the Highlord commanded, turning away from them. "Prepare." As they left, he hissed, "The glorious Death Squad is going to their final battle..." He slowly clenched his hand into a fist. "I will crush this fragile alliance even as it blossoms."