"Here? There won't be enough room," Tangere cautioned.
Orion didn't reply, simply turning and leading the way out of the fortress and back into the main plaza.
Once there, Tangere produced a ritual cauldron shrouded in a sickly green mist. He performed a series of intricate hand gestures, muttering an incantation that broke the vessel's seal. He placed the cauldron on the ground, and it immediately began to grow, swelling in size until it stood ten feet tall.
A faint, dry scraping sound echoed from within. Then, one by one, a grotesque menagerie of creatures with mottled green skin began to crawl out. They were a horrifying mix of corrupted races—humans, beasts, and others, even a few lesser drakes of impure bloodline.
"My Plague-thralls," Tangere announced, a note of immense pride in his voice as the horde continued to spill from the cauldron. "Ten thousand of them. This is the army I've brought."
