Dreamer's Throne

Over a mile above the team that rested in the darkness of the first tomb, two mighty bridges stood firm. Each was wide enough for four carriages to pass side by side, but not a single carriage could be seen on them. Instead, they were positively packed with metal-clad soldiers, weapons clutched nervously in white-knuckled grips, and eyes peering out into the darkness of the storm. The rain had been continuing to lighten, but still, its drops splattered against the armor the soldiers wore and the stone upon which they stood, before tumbling down to the river below.

Beyond the two bridges lay the upper-class district, and the further from them one traveled, the richer and more opulent the homes became, until the neighborhoods gave way to the great noble houses in their walled compounds, and then the palace. The high bridge, so called because it stood in the northern north of the likewise named low bridge, led to a giant square also filled with soldiers getting ready to carry out their duty. Shouts and the tramp of boots echoed in the night as the army mobilized. Yet despite the readiness of many of the soldiers, the command to advance never came.

From a tower overlooking one of the bridges, an officer stared out into the darkness of the stormy night. Thanks to the strengthening of his soul spark, his eyes could faintly pick out the undead Maragoth, rampaging around. But despite the damage it was doing, no order came.

"What are they waiting for?" his companion asked him.

The taller soldier stroked his sandy-blonde mustache and let out a small sigh.

"They're waiting for the gangs to absorb more of the undead. We should be getting a report soon.”

“But the longer we wait, the more damage this wave is going to cause," his companion replied, staring out into the darkness with a hard look.

"Sure, but do you think that matters to the commanders?" the first officer replied, his tone scornful. "Remember, we're just being sent in to clean up. If the gangs want to survive, they're going to have to do it on their own."

"What about the people, the citizens?" the other officer protested. "It's not just gang members in that district."

The mustached officer fell silent, his gaze turning to a large artifact next to him. It looked like a horn of sorts, mounted on a thick wooden pedestal, its wide end pointing out the window. As soon as the horn was blown, the army would spring into action, carrying out their predetermined plan to stop the undead wave. But the order still had not come.

"I understand what you're saying," he said finally, his face falling. "But until we get the order from above, we are to hold position here, defending the two bridges."

"Is it true that they ordered us not to let any refugees through?" The other officer asked after a moment of silence.

There was a paleness around the mustached officer's eyes as his teeth clenched, and he gave a short, sharp nod.

"They say it's to help keep the infection from spreading," he said.

Though his companion didn't reply, both of them knew that that wasn't the major concern.

"I hate politics," the shorter officer said, shaking his head as a shout drifted up from down below. "Sounds like there's a report. I'll go see what the scouts are saying."

Hurrying to the door, he paused for a moment, looking back at the other officer.

"What if we..." he stopped, and finally, with a defeated sigh, shook his head and left.

The officer with the mustache, looked down at the token at his waist. Issuing the order would be as simple as pressing the token to the artifact horn, sending the signal to attack. He knew in his gut that the sooner they attacked, the more lives could be saved, and that if the infection truly spread to the citizens of the district, it would be nearly impossible to contain without razing the entire area to the ground. However, he, like his companion, eventually let out a deep sigh and shook his head. He would wait for the order.

There was a third participant in the conversation, though she had remained entirely silent as she clung to the wall outside of the tower's window, listening carefully to every word spoken by the officer. Ryn hadn't been there long, and she knew it wasn't a safe place to stay, but when she had heard them talking, she had paused to see if they had anything useful. With careful movements, she crept silently along the stone wall, making sure to stay well below the sill, her dark cloak draped around her, giving her plenty of camouflage in the dark, stormy evening. And once she had shifted a dozen feet to the side, she began to climb once more, heading up toward the top of the tower.

It had taken her nearly all night to get across the bridge, creeping carefully along the understructure, careful not to make a sound. There had been a couple of close calls as the masonry on the giant bridge was in need of maintenance, and once the stone she had grabbed slipped from her grasp, plunging down into the water below. Only a desperate heel hook had managed to keep her from plunging down with it.

She could have traversed the wall, had she not been awakened, as she had been trained for this sort of climbing from a young age, but she had to admit, ever since lighting her soul spark she had found this sort of thing much easier as her strength grew exponentially. Pausing for a moment as she got to the top of the tower, she checked to see if anyone was up there with a small mirror, and when she saw the coast was clear, sprang up and over, making sure to crouch so she wasn't silhouetted against the sky. Though it was unlikely anybody would have seen her, she didn't want to risk anyone being sent up to the top of the tower.

The tower was being used as the command center for the army, and the staging ground for the defense against the undead. The problem was, the army simply wasn't moving out. The soldiers were well armored and well armed, more than a match for what remained of the zombies. Unfortunately, it seemed that they intended to drag their feet until the maximum amount of damage had been done to the guilds of adventurers and the gangs that ran in that district.

This proved a problem, as the Klein family's activities had severely blunted the attack of Agma-Yoth's attack, and his undead horde had been reduced to almost nothing already. Most of the necromancers were dead, hunted by Isabel and Delrisa, while most of the zombies who had thrown themselves against the defensive line formed by the family and the Grave Walkers had been eradicated. Even those who had poured through the pressure valve Garrett left in his defensive line had run into the fierce Brass Tiger Syndicate, and their numbers were flagging.

The only force that really remained was one that the Klein family simply couldn't deal with, the giant Maragoth, currently tied up with the adventurers guild. However, no matter how much damage they did to it, the beast seemed to simply shrug it off. While Garrett hadn't been able to predict the awakening of the Maragoth, he had assumed that Agma-Yoth would be sending a large monster in his direction, and so he had sent Ryn to ensure that things moved according to schedule.

The top of the tower was flat, and there was a small parapet around its edge. However, it had not been designed for anyone to actually stand on, as the observation floor was right below this ceiling, and there was no access down below to the stairs that led through the tower down below. That didn't bother Ryn, however, and she used her new strength to gently pry up, and a handy crowbar, to gently pry up a number of the tiles, forming a hole that she could slip through. Carefully easing herself down into the rafters, she paused, listening. For the sound of anyone, she didn't have long to wait before she heard the tromp of steps and the voice of the shorter officer who had returned.

“It's not looking good,” he said.

The other officer turned to glance at him. "'That bad? What's the damage?'

But to his surprise, his glum-looking companion shook his head.

"No, the Adventurer's Guild is somehow managing to hold that giant beast, and the defensive line that the gangs have formed seems to be working rather well. Too well. The commanders aren't happy.”

With a groan, the mustached officer realized exactly what was being said.

“They're not going to send us in?” he said, his voice half-question, half-statement.

“They're not going to send us in,” the other officer confirmed. “At least not yet. Orders are still to hold. Keep the bridges tight and watch for any further developments.”

“But we have the perfect opportunity to wipe out the undead,” the mustached officer said, practically growling. "We can keep this to minimum damage.”

“Sure, you know that. I know that. But..” the short officer didn't finish his words and just jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the western side of the city, where the palace loomed large in the darkness.

Slamming his fist into the wall, the mustached officer glared out over the city. Ryn had heard enough. Moving as softly as a mouse, she climbed back through the opening she had created, and once on the top of the tower, closed her eyes. She wasn't exactly sure how the flower that connected her to the rest of the Klein family operated. She assumed it was some sort of mysterious artifact spreading its network through each of them. But she did know its functions. Her thoughts drifted through their connection to Garrett, filtering into his mind and causing his eyes to snap open. His mind raced, as he clutched the arms of Dreamer's Throne, running through half a dozen plans before he finally settled on their next course of action.

As soon as Ryn got the message back, she grinned. This was going to be fun. Peeking up over the short parapet that surrounded the top of the tower, she scanned, looking for a nearby building that would serve her purpose. As soon as she spotted one, she gripped the top of the parapet with two hands and vaulted over, using her newfound strength to launch her into the air. The cloak she was wearing seemed to snap open, spreading to either side of her, catching the air, and actually causing her body to rise up a few feet. Somehow, the cloak maintained its shape as she glided across the distance to land on the roof she had been aiming for.

Landing with hardly a sound, she moved swiftly across it, jumping two more large gaps with a similar motion, all the while her eyes constantly scanning the ground. She finally found her target in a small alleyway just off of the main square. There, she saw an officer standing quietly in the shadows, no doubt enjoying a small break from the evening's excitement. Swinging herself off of the roof, she hung for a moment, and then leapt down, spinning as she fell into the alleyway. Her feet made contact with the opposite building's wall, a dozen feet above the officer's head, and the faint scrape of her foot against the stone was enough to cause the startled officer to look up. All he saw was the black shape of two wings falling on top of him, and with a muffled thud, Ryn's fist connected with the back of his skull, knocking him unconscious.

She had picked him because he wasn't awakened, which made knocking him out much easier. Also, he was just about her size, and a few moments later, the unconscious man, stripped of his clothing, was laid down back in the alley and covered with the thin cloak that she wore. Dressed in his uniform, Ryn quickly swept her hair up into as tight a bun as she could while putting the man's hat on her head. There was a faint darkness shadowing her face, making it hard for anybody to see exactly what she looked like.

Putting her shoulders back and walking with confidence, she entered the square, making her way across while clutching a tube that she had taken from her bag. Her bag had been left behind next to the unconscious officer, and though she got the occasional look, as soon as anyone saw the tube she carried, they quickly backed away, giving her a clear path. With crisp steps, she rushed back to the tower, calling to the guards at its door as she got close.

"Urgent orders," she said, waving the tube.

The two guards looked at her and then looked at the orders she carried.

"We just got orders," one of the guards said.

"Yeah, and I haven't seen you around before," the other guard chimed in.

"I don't make them, I just carry them," Ryn snapped back. "And I've never seen you before either."

Bemused by her response, one of the guards started to open the tube, but Ryn snatched it back.

"Are you mad," she hissed, glaring at him, her face still shrouded in the darkness of the night, "that's the royal seal on there, and you're going to break it? Get your commanding officer now."

With a startled gulp, the two guards looked at the tube more clearly and saw the faint but unmistakable mark of the royal seal. Realizing that they had nearly committed treason by mistake, one of the guards took the tube.

"I'll take this up to my commanding officer," he said.

"Good. Without opening it, I hope," Ryn said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, before turning and fading into the crowd.

As soon as the guards had lost sight of her, Ryn doubled back. There were groups of officers coming and going from the tower, as they coordinated the defense, and it was into one of these groups that Ryn blended, shifting the way she walked, the way she held her shoulders, and deftly swapping her hat out for someone else's without them being any the wiser. The remaining guard at the front door was too distracted to notice as she slipped by, and once she was in the tower, she quickly ditched the group she had been tagging along with and headed for the upper floors.

Walking with a grim expression and a determined stride, as if she was on important business, she made it to the third floor without incident and walked down the long hall, pausing only briefly to listen at each door. At the fourth door, she heard a voice and recognized it as the guards. This was the room she was looking for.