Althior rode through the forest a few times, searching for Finnegan, but he was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't worry, since he had a feeling this was the final wave. "Alright, listen up! Arthur, Check that telescope for oncoming elves! I'm not entirely sure on posing as elves right now. We need as many preparations as possible, So I want Xander and Lewis to turn the corpses of the dead elves into Skeleton Decoys. It's a gruesome job, but someone has to do it. Isabella, take the slice-n-dice. Anyone with consumables (Mead, Smelling Salts, Nostrum) drink those now!" Althior chugs his Mead, Smelling Salts, and Nostrum. "Once we know where the elves are coming from, we'll take all of our fire bombs and bury them in that general area, clear? We've made it this far, team. Let's finish this." Althior held his locket, the last thing holding him on to humanity. Since the last time he'd seen Alexis, he'd become a murderer, a bully, and plain evil. He was no better than Abraxas himself. But he had accomplished good things in this short, six month period in Heroica. He'd defeated Abraxas' messenger, saved innocent animals, stopped an evil witch, made and helped friends, and made Finnegan, who was no longer his friend or companion, but his Partner. He couldn't worry about him now, but he'd find him.