**The huddle nervously murmured until a single voice spoke out over them**
Find a suitable space, then order the Constructs to build a perimeter. I shall bring the rest with the young ones next. Please be quick; I can't keep doing this.
**Farrek incants as the other Rodera begin to organise themselves. He vanishes, leaving only a torn piece of parchment. The paper falls face down, with two words on its back:
**A Rodera with an eye-patch steps out from the group, and waves a baton. The constructs begin to spread out to dig the foundations for their barricades.**
**After a couple of minutes, another mass of Rodera -this time with several children- appear near the initial landing site. Two more constructs are there, carrying further provisions: tents, blankets, preserved food. Again, Farrek incants and teleports away. After one more load, the evacuation is complete: eighty-four adults, fifteen children, ten constructs. The few who had opted to remain would soon be dead; this is it for the Roderan race. A slim hope.**
I will return. Lorax, Mollal, as the two surviving Councilors, you will be responsible for our camp. Get growing. I will make one more visit to the Orcs, but i doubt they will accept this. An Orc once told me 'I would rather die on my feet than keep living on my knees.' Hopefully Kar got to each of the other domes in time to rescue them. This island is about to get very VERY crowded.
**Farrek teleports from the island one more time, and the Rodera begin to set up their camp.**