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Kellin looked down at the axe. "What magic connects you to the axe?"

"Powerful magic and tangled, dragonborn," the Shepherd woman said. "On yonder menhir, until recently, rested the means of our deception-that which kept us and our behemoths secret from prying eyes for many centuries: the Heart of Runlatha, salvaged from that fallen city of magic by the Bey of Runlatha himself."

"Berun," some of the Thunderbeasts whispered among themselves, the name of a great hero in their songs.

"Yes, Berun indeed," hissed the woman. "A name that has floated through the ages misremembered and distorted. The Bey was ancient even for us, his true name lost to history, but it is known that he fled dead Netheril, leading our ancestors west from that fallen land."

"With the Heart of Runlatha," extrapolated Kellin. "And in Delzoun, the dwarves tied its magic to that of the axe you carry. The axe serves as a key," she went on. "It can dissolve the illusions. It can, and it did."

The Shepherdess nodded sadly. "With the axe in his hand, Bey battled the foul three who troubled his people, giving his own life to defeat Zukothoth." Vell realized that he must have caught a glimpse of that ancient battle in the Fountains of Memory, where it rippled like an afterthought. What a wonder! To lay eyes upon the Bey of legend!

"The axe was recovered by his followers and held as sacred, as they tamed the land. The weapon of the truest of heroes, it craves heroism from those who wield it. Its true powers lie dormant in the hands of mediocre men like your chiefs, though it twists the minds of the weak, always seeking a stronger wielder."

"And the Heart of Runlatha?" prompted Thanar.

"It has preserved us."

"And with it gone…"

"Yes," the Shepherd said. "We will die."

"A pity," said Thanar. This provoked a dark glare from the Shepherd.

"Magic!" cursed Thluna. "The unreliability of magic! No wonder Sungar disposed of the axe-would that it had stayed lost."

"Sungar!" the female Shepherd shouted. This was the strongest anger they'd heard from the ancients-she shouted the name like an epithet. "Wolfkiller! The blame is his! Where is he? He left our secrets ripe for the pillage."

"He lies in the hands of our enemies," Rask Urgek said. "We can only guess that, if he lives, he is in the dungeons of Llorkh."

"Llorkh." The name was whispered among the other Shepherds, still standing nearby in the marsh. "This orc-man speaks a name we have heard already,", said the male Shepherd, pointing at the soldier displayed on the phandar tree. "That is where our behemoths are, and the Heart with it. The survivor of this invasion, save the dark lady who fled by magic, revealed their plans to us."

"A fine burial you gave him," Rask said, eyeing the disgusting spectacle. "A thousand years of isolation has clearly caused your souls to atrophy." The Shepherds did not blink an eye in response to his insult.

Thluna asked, "Why do you not take your powers back from Vell?"

"They cannot," said Kellin. "Not without the Heart."

The male Shepherd nodded.

"As it always was with magic," Thluna told him. "You relied on it-you based your existence around it. And it has failed you."

"You have failed us," the Shepherd retorted. "You have all failed us."

"I'm curious," said Kellin. "Did you mean to summon me here as well, or was that an accident?"

"It was not our intention," said the Shepherd woman. "Our contact with the world outside this Sanctuary was limited. We could not…"

"You could not send clear messages, obviously," said Thanar. "Why say, 'Find the living'? Why not say, 'Come to the shadow of the easternmost Star Mount'? Why not, 'Recover the lost axe'?"

"Our ability to act was limited," came the answer. The man hesitantly went on. "The shard of your totem that remains in our possession is limited indeed."

"What can this mean?" asked Vell. "What shard of our totem?"

"I can explain," said Kellin. "At least, I'll try. Before the coming of Uthgar, the barbarians of the North-Netherese-blooded survivors from the exodus of Runlatha-worshiped powerful nature