They had come, two of them. They had taken me from the cell, dragged me through a long hallway. Behind a metal door was a regular torture chamber. Most of all, the draining grid on the floor caught my attention. It had blood on it. And then was my mind hit with the stench of excrements, and gastric acid. I started to shake.

In a corner of this room, was a desk with a young man behind it. They pushed me down to my knees infront of the desk and stepped back. The young man weared the clothes of a official Hammerite priest. He continued his studies in the papers on the desk. The desk was very tidy, the papers and pens were arranged in a very penible way. Its tidyness looked obscene in this room, in this smell.

After some more minutes reading, he looked up and in my face.

"I am your Inquisitor. You will adress me correctly with 'Father Inquisitor.' The rules are simple. You obey and cooperate, and you will be rewarded. Else you will be punished. Is this clear enough?"

I simply stared at him. His voice did not match his profession. It sounded so young, and so intelligent. I couldn't believe this. A lash from behind brought me back from my thoughts. I nodded.

"Good. I am not a fan of the usual brutal way to get information. But I know when force is needed, and I do not hesitate to use it. I believe you have the ability to speak?"

I nodded slowly. He sighed, and gave the guard behind me a sign. Another lash.

"You do want to go through all of this, only to agree that you can speak? So, can you?"

Whipped again, I pressed a "yes" through my lips.

"Ah, you can. So, I think we can continue. What is your name?"

***

I was feeling much better now that I didn't have that chunk of jewelry on me. I'd hate to get stopped by the Hammers with that trinket in my pocket. Now I had some cash from the sale and an agenda I really didn't even have time to plan for. I have to get into Cragscleft, something most people wouldn't even consider on a large bet. Planning for such an event takes time, money, maps, contacts, spying, more time, research and a hundred other things I didn't have. I only had a day at best to gather info and spy a bit to figure out how to get in, formulate a plan, gather my gear and go to it, before this "Lytha" ends up dead. Better to get her back in one piece and breathing, payment is more likely that way. I didn't know anyone who had a clue about Crags, no one ever made it out before that I knew of. Not like it would help anyway since they rebuilt the place. Leave it to the Hammers to decide the prison wasn't big enough and expand it for four floors below the ground by clearing out some old mines.

Just then it clicked in my head. Mines have to have airways! Sure they may not be big enough for me to squeeze into but it's worth a shot. Maybe I could find one big enough to get in. Getting out would have to be improvised once I see what kind of condition my two escapees would be in, if neither can walk this is going to be a horrible rescue. So with that on my mind I headed to the local Hammerite library for a little bit of mining history. Knowing they wouldn't just let me in to peruse their blueprints or old documents I entered by way of the service entrance, that being a second floor window. Luckily this place wasn't very busy so getting around was pretty easy, better live that up while I can because life is about to get a lot harder very soon. The down side to this place was I had no idea how it was laid out, and all I managed to dig up was some old maps of the mines before they rebuilt the prison and some notes on construction which didn't tell me a whole lot. So I got out with my maps and went to spy on the area around the prison to see if I could find anything good.

***

I stood before the wall that separated the forbidden sector from the rest of the city. Its shadow eclipsed me, bringing up goose bumps on my arms. Just standing there I could feel the evil of the place. I turned my eyes to the sky and spotted the sun through a thin veil of clouds. It would hit its zenith within the hour. Lowering my eyes, I looked back across the city towards home. With a bit of luck Els would be with Master Nightfall by now. His illness was truly beginning to worry me. Despite the healer's potions and advice, Els's condition had badly deteriorated over the last day or so. It was more than just a cold, I was sure of it, but Els refused further aid. I had sent him to Master Nightfall with the hope that he would receive some sort of aid.

With a sigh I turned back to study the wall. It was constructed from large blocks of grey stone, now mottled and covered in patches of green and yellow moss. It seemed to like the shade and damp that hung her. What was surprising was the fact that the wall still stood at all. With the moisture so prevalent I would have thought the mortar would have crumbled and the wall collapses long ago. The only reasonable conclusion was that the magic they said had been placed on the wall was a reality.

I checked my provisions again. Food, flash-bombs, holy water vials and water arrows. As well as ink, pen and paper to for making notes. My magic bow I had strapped to my inner thigh and my lock-picks were tucked safely into the concealed pocket in my belt. If what Ramirez had told me was true, and I had no reason to believe otherwise, this would be a synch. I tucked my toes into a small crevice near the base of the wall, felt for handholds above and began to climb.

***

Being stylishly tardy has always been a hobby of mine. Even a mere five minutes, if it’s with the correct person, is enough to get your host steamed without getting them totally angry. In some situations the inverse is true, where being tardy was helpful, such as to dinner arrangements. To formal dinners and such it would be polite to come at lest 10 minutes late (at most 40), so that it would give the host the extra minutes to get everything "just so". However this was not a dinner arrangement, nor was I looking to be polite. The Hammers were obsessed about time ever since the clock was invented, a perfect use for gears. But that is rather like the pot calling the kettle black, seeing as I’ve been known to check my pocket watch at lest three times every hour, and usually more.

I exited The City walls to the rendezvous point by the edge of the forest. I couldn’t miss it. A Hammerite army had gathered, with the high command here as well to see them off. The whole thing was a good hundred yards away from the south city wall. There was sort of a grassy field here, or used to be. The ground was marred and bruised by having large equipment rolled over it, as well as the stomp marks of marching Hammerite troops. There had been a short downpour this morning, so the ground was wet, and every depression made a puddle, and thus mud. My boots were covered with the stuff. I hated mud. The sun was high, witch was natural, seeing as it was noon. The sun was also hot, also natural seeing as it was summer. The hot sun rays hit the wet ground. The natural thing happened. There was steam, and plenty of it. I hated steam even more then I hated mud. I hated anything dirty, and sticky, and slimy.

Taking my mind off the state of the environment, I cast my eyes across the task force. Closest to me there was a sort of platform, newly constructed, where several Hammerite priest were standing and sitting. After that, there was a mass of Hammerite troops, some standing in ranks, others marching. Closest to the forest were four large machines, the nature of which I couldn’t make out from this distance, with Hammerite workers all over them. I made my way closer, and observed as I went.

The platform was raised five feet above the ground, and spanned about fifty feet, square. There was a simple railing built along the edge, opening where there was a stairway to the ground. Where there were no stairs, various banners were hung, forming a sort of wall enclosing the area beneath the platform. I could see the sap in the wood of the platform’s legs, still bleeding from the freshly made ax cuts. I saw the High Priest standing on the platform, facing away from me, along with five other Hammerite priests. The five were sitting around a table, with a large map laid out on it. It was above my eye level, but I could see the edges draped over the sides of the table, and it was a map all right. They seemed to be charting a course of least resistance through the woods, to the lodge, a good ten miles away. That would be quite a long walk by any standards. I imagined that those machines would slow it down quite a bit as well.

I just paused and watched the High priest for a moment. I was at the platform, and he hadn’t seen me yet. None of them had. He looked even more pompous and arrogant then The Baron, though quite a bit more physically fit. He was tapping his foot impatiently, overseeing the preparations. I cast my gaze to the marching soldiers. They made no indication that they had seen me either, though even if they had I didn’t think they would show it. It’s called discipline. There was quite a number of them, at least seventy troops and officers. They marched about, ripping the underfoot grass as they went two and fro in those cute Hammerite formations of theirs. My observations were cut short by a voice from the platform.

"Brother Thurm, Nightfall has arrived, late as expected. Thee shall now spearhead this effort, while I return to the Cathedral, to tend to more pressing matters. Nightfall shall be thy second in command, just as thou hast been to me." I looked up to see the High Priest talking to Thurm, who has risen from the table.

"In the Builders name, I do as thee command of me, High Priest." Brother Thurm bowed to him as he said this, and then bowed to me. I nodded a quick bow back to him, and then casually walked to platform, and up the stairs, taking care to knock as much mud off my soles as possible. As I reached the top the High Priest suddenly turned around, still not having so much as glanced at me, and walked down the stair at the other side of the platform.

I approached Brother Thurm. "Is there something troubling the High Priest?" I was simply curious as to what he would say. I knew exactly what was eating at the man. I was.

"I know not," he said, "I trust that it is the task at hand which troubles him. Many of us fear that there is far more at work here then simply a lone pagan."

I nodded, truly sharing the concern. Brother Thurm didn’t know the half of it. I had worked with Thurm before. Here was a man I could actually truly respect. His loyalty to the order and the Master Builder were, while misplaced, admirable. His passion for knowledge and science were undeniable. He was the only Hammerite Noble I’ve ever seen truly jubilant over her work. Most are so cold and indifferent, but Thurm took joy in his work, and I liked that about him. His post as commander of this operation was clear. He had designed the four machines sitting between the platform and the woods edge!

"Brother Thurm, what is the nature of these, machines?" I said, with sincere curiosity, for I had not yet gotten a chance to examine them.

He smiled broadly. "Ah, well. These two which thou sees closest to us are designed to demolish unwanted structured. This is indeed old technology, however in the past they have been much larger machines built on site, and then dismantled when the job is finished. These new versions are completely mobile. They are smaller, and less powerful, but the time saved by not having to construct them makes up for the loss!" I looked with wonder at the massive 20 foot tall machine. It was mounted on a rotating platform, with eight large wheels underneath. On each side there was an arm, four of them, and at the end of each arm was a device of destruction: a claw, a wrecking ball, a battering ram, and a strange device I had only seen in books before, a massive drill. To one side of the machine was a larger version of the steam powered locomotive which I road in the other day. Both machines were crawling with Hammerite workers, as they prepared it for transport.

"Thurm, how are you going to get these machines to the lodge?"

He smiled, delighted I asked. "Why, the road, of course!"

"Road?"

"Yes, we are building one."

If he had grinned any wider his eyes would have fallen out. Well, maybe not, but something weird would have happened. My response was a look with an extremely fake look of surprise and delight in my eyes.

"Those two machines up by the forest are specifically designed for clearing land!" he pointed proudly. The two he was referring to appeared to be quite similar to the machines that were towing the demolition equipment. The only difference was a large plate affixed to the front of the machine. This plate had two surfaces which met at a sharp angle in the center. It was obvious how it worked. The machine moved forward, and every tree that was hit by the plate was thrust to either side, and down, to its death. It was sad, really. There was a time when a man needed to sweet in order to defeat a tree. Now all he had to do was pull levers and sit and watch.

I quickly shook that mindset away. The last thing I needed to be was a woodsy sympathizer. "Amazing," I said to Thurm, with only slightly more then a shred of sincerity.

"Yes, they are quite an accomplishment." I could tell he was bubbling with pride. "And to think, three months ago none of this was possible! Why, by this time next year, THINK of what will be accomplished!" He put his hand on my shoulder. "Master Nightfall, I believe a new age is upon us. I can feel it. A new age of prosperity for our order. An age of invention, of discovery. A…a… a METAL age!" He looked back at his mechanical creations and made several loud grunting noises, then crossed his arms across his chest and nodded proudly. I just looked at him, trying to smile. "By this time, three days from now, we shall be at the lodge." He looked back at me. "There you shall see these creatures of metal doing what the Master Builder guided me to create them to do!"

I don’t know why I felt so grim. This, after all, is what I intended. If it was simply a lone pagan, then the Hammers would get their example, and Jyre her vengeance. If it was truly as bad as James and I feared, then we would need the Hammers to fight this "Lady". There was little doubt in my mind that not much could defeat a Hammerite army of this magnitude. This was only the road construction team. Many more soldiers were up ahead at newly constructed forts, guarding the path of the road. Still more troops were planned to follow, and arrive at the scene just as the equipment did. Then all would pounce on the building, and not rest until every stone was turned to dust, and every beam splintered. It was a well planned operation that will be executed with extreme proficiency. This was a win-win situation. I had to keep telling myself that. I kept my fingers crossed nevertheless.

***

"Okay, the front door seems out of the question, as usual", I told myself as I noted the small army of Hammers standing around. From the looks of the place, they now use the old mine entrance as the entrance to the rebuilt jail. This meant two things to me. First, the Hammerite barracks are all right by the front door to stop massive escapes, and in emergencies they could all get out easily. Secondly, I would need a lot of help to get in or out that way. Getting my bearings and location on the maps I had brought, I went a little higher up on the hill and spotted something interesting. It was a small opening, maybe 3 feet wide and filled with a fan spinning away, pulling fresh air into the deeper part of the complex. After I noticed that one I noted several more all along the side of the cliff. I presumed that those brought air to different parts of the prison. I wouldn't be able to bring a lot of gear with me since the hole was so small, at best I could have dragged a small bag of toys with me, but a bow or sword were out of the question. Those vents would be my way in, lets hope they didn't lead to the dining room or become too narrow. From that point it was a matter of finding my people and getting out. Piece of cake. "Time to go shopping!", I said as I rolled up my maps and jogged back to town.

***

He sighed, once again.

"I do not want to do this, but you were really not very cooperative."

I lay on the floor, face down. I had lost my concious once or twice, I don't remember. My back was numb now. I could smell my own blood. I heard the footsteps of the guards behind me. They came closer, and I felt their hands at my arms. They brought me back on my feet.

"You have broken the rule of cooperation, Lytha. Personally, I hate the thought what we will do to you now, but the laws instruct me to break first the body, then the mind. I wish you a good night, though."

They dragged me back into the cell blocks. I found myself in the opposite cell from where I awoke earlier. In my back, I heard the locking of the door, and the leaving footsteps of the guards.

I blinked into the dim light. I made a figure out there, in the corner of the cell. It was that tall man whom I had noticed earlier. I saw him grin, and his lips bare the hugest yellow teeth I had ever seen. He stared at me with this horrible grin in the face. I shroke back. I knew and I feared what he was going to do. My hands and feet were still in chains, no chance in a fight. He rose to his feet, and stepped closer, without a single word. I had my back at the door, could not back any further. He was so close that I could smell his breath in my face. I could simply stare at him, at his teeth.

In a sudden movement, he reached out and pushed me on the floor. Struggling to come free, I tried to kick him. But he was already over me. With his entire weight, he pressed me down to the floor, grabbing my hair with the left, pulling my head back. I felt the cold stone at my cheek. And then the pain, when he bite and hit me. I felt helpless. So absolutly helpless. I could not even scratch him, or wind myself out off his hold, with my hands in chains. He pressed me down, he torn my clothes, and I could not even cry. Trying to repress everything, I formed a fist with my hand, so strong that it did hurt. And then my head seemed to explode. He had started to hit it down to the floor. All went black, again. The last feeling was the sharp pain when he -

***

"Wakey wakey!", I shouted as I banged on the door. Quenton rubbed his eyes as he opened the door and invited me in. "How in the hell can you still be sleeping? It's almost dark out!"

He looked confused but grumbled something about working late and playing cards all night.

"I need some gear, and you're the only one I could think of who can get a few things I need in short notice, even though your prices are way too high".

"What ya need this time?", he asked, looking a little scared at what the answer might be.

"I need some gas mines, a few flash bombs, a pair of those boots with the secret compartment in the heels, the smallest lockpicks you can find and a jar of that paste I used that time...and anything else you can think I need for a suicide mission."

He had a stunned look on his face but knew better than to ask what I was up to, instead he staggered into the back room and emerged a moment later with a small box and a pair of boots which he threw at me and said "try them on." He opened the box and pulled out a small bottle and set it on the table. "Thats yer glue, you 'member how ta use it?" He set out a small pouch of tools, grinning stupidly because those definitely were the smallest ones I'd ever seen. "How soon do ya need the mines and flashers?"

"Yes I know how to use the glue, and I need the gear now, or as close to now as you can get, no later than tomorrow morning, I'm in a little bit of a rush." Quenton winced visibly and said exactly what I knew he would "I can get 'em in a couple hours...but it's gonna cost ya"

"So typical" I answered, but I needed the stuff now. "Fine, whatever, just deliver them to me as soon as you get your hands on them, cash on delivery, I'll be taking this other stuff now as a deposit to keep you from forgetting" Grabbing my stuff I headed for the door without another word.

***

I could feel its presence behind me as I fled through the door and down the desolate street. Its groans were a constant echo in my ears. I didn't know where I ran or see where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get away! My foot caught on a crack in the stone walkway and I slammed into the ground with a thud. The wind was blasted from my lungs and I could feel blood on my palms where they had ripped open. I glanced over my shoulder as I scrambled to my feet and saw the sickening mockery of life that chased me shambling closer. Even as I watched a chunk of its rotting flesh fell from its body. I turned and ran again, plunging thoughtlessly into the nearest shadow. I ran straight into something solid and bounced back off. A second zombie now towered above me, its arms reaching for my throat. I scrambled quickly away, barely holding my feet, and darted into the ruins of a house across the street. Its walls were crumbled and in some places gone completely. But I wasn't overly concerned with that just at that moment. I looked up and saw the second floor. Quickly cast my eyes around and found the half collapsed staircase. I just hoped it would take my weight. The first few steps were gone completely so I had to scramble up. The wood groaned beneath my weight and I felt it bend. The groans of the zombies had reached the door. The first one stepped through just as I pulled myself onto the highest step. When I saw the state of the upper floor I began to sob. At least half the planks had rotted away completely to leave the thin plaster beneath. There were no walls and whatever other rooms had once been there were gone. I expected to feel the zombies' cold touch any second and waited, breath held. When I finally built up the courage to look down I found them milling about in confusion. Not once did they look up. I brought my fear back under control, wiped me eyes and crawled into a dark corner to wait for their moans to fade away.

I must have fallen asleep. For when I next looked at the sky the moon was well past its zenith. For one horrible second I almost believed in the Builder. Then I shook my head at my own foolishness. It was luck, nothing more. I dug into my pocket and pulled out an apple which I began to munch. Then I took out my supply of paper and ink, which I had kept in a pouch tied to my belt, and crawled over to a lighter spot. My apple finished, I took out my pen and began to record the days events.

Master Nightfall,

This to you I do write from the city of haunts. Forgive the badly shaping of my words but my hands do much shake from my small times here. It is bad. Very bad. Never should I have come here. The one of which I told. Ramirez. I fear he hath tricked me. To me he did tell that the haunts they do be much less now but when I does the wall climb I find many, many such dead. Back then I should have turned. Els, he did be right. Adventure it was I sought and so to continue did I. I sneeked and I crept and the shadows did hug but nowhere did I see signs of where I be. I knew only that cathedral's rear did to the front of me be. Compass I use not but follow instead my feelings. The moans and the groans all around me they be'd and shiver my spine and chill my blood did it. And from he many doors to my ears did come the voices of many a dead one. In every bone I felt their pain and in every breath I feared it. So distracted did I be that see I not the zombie til almost I stood upon it. In my pack I did reach and turn my eyes did eye. The flashbomb I did throw but came there no shriek. I look and there it be sitting much unchanged in the dirt. It was dud. Fake. The zombie groaned. I did me panic and run.

Away from it I did get and much relief I felt. I sat me in shadow and my pack unsling. From it did I take a flashbomb and xamin it I did. The trigger that the bang does make was gone! I took another and found the same. Zombie then did me suprise and the pack I did drop. I run again, much and long til this place of safeness did I reach. And now I do this letter pen, though fear I that reach you it never will. Still, it does me distract from the horrible groans that do me surround. More I will record later, if I do survive.

Your servant,

Jyre.

***

In spite of Thurms protests, I made it clear that I would rather sleep at home, and have to take the trip to and fro each day, then sleep with him in the command tent. That is what I was doing right now, going home. It was late. My pocket watch told me ten thirty. No rest for the weary, however, for I spotted a sign that a dropbox had a message for me. Sighing, I investigated. I found the letter posing as a piece of debris by the roadside. I picked it up, and, having nothing better to do, read it. It was from Sheam of all people.

Daniel,

I was helping Els pick out his equipment, as you asked, when I demanded that I let him go home to get something. I offered to go with him. He refused. I told him that I needed to get him some health potions first. He said that he hates the stuff, and never drinks it. I told him that he was in no condition to run across town and back to get only one item! He wouldn’t even tell me what the item was! I told him that I’d send a servant after it. He refused, and told me that no one should follow him when he went. I told him to at least get some equipment before he went, and he refused again! He left, and I was unable to stop him. I tried to follow him, but he lost me. I’m sorry Daniel, I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

Sheam