Another place to come get lost in.
Pierce considered again - he really might like to come here and study someday. The grandness of the place alone might hold him in a consistent enough state of awe and wonder to keep his mind on his schoolwork.
In the northeast quadrant of the second ring stood the city garrison's offices, and Axebourne boldly led his small team up long steps to their entrance. He stopped them there briefly.
"Alright. We're all going in together, mostly as a show of force. A little shock and awe will help us get their attention," he said. "But you," he pointed at Pierce, "and you," he pointed at Agrathor, "keep your mouths shut. No musings, ruminations, or tangents," he fixed his gaze on Pierce. "And no arguments or complaints," he gave Agrathor a stern look. "We need to present a unified front, or no one will believe even us, and they certainly won't listen to us."
The rest of Gorgonbane saluted. Pierce nodded, flinched slightly, then saluted as well.
"Good," said Axebourne. "Then come, let's go in."
He led the way through a pair of wooden double doors, and the group was immediately questioned by a clerk at a high desk in the lobby they entered.
"What can I help you with?"
The clerk was a polished-looking man in his forties, with bronze skin and short black hair. He wore a pair of oval spectacles that glowed green with enchantment. "We haven't called for any mercenaries this season." He looked dubious.
Axebourne strode up to the clerk's desk and clasped his arm in greeting. "Good day, young man," he said. Immediately the clerk's face softened a bit. "I need to speak with your garrison commander. My comrades and I have discovered intelligence regarding an attack on the city."
The clerk's dubious look returned, and he released Axebourne's arm. "Oh, well, we got one of those last week, so you'll pardon my skepticism. Little merc band running away from some of their rivals. They wanted us to shut the gates so their rivals would have no choice but to abandon the chase. Good try though." He lowered his eyes to some paperwork on the desktop.
"We are not mercenaries, sir," Axebourne said, just a slight hardness to his voice. The clerk looked back up. "Not today anyway. Nor do we have any rivals. I do so strive to remain tactful in these situations, so... Would you kindly glance at my comrades and tell me what you see?"
The clerk looked up, scanning Scythia in all her hard beauty, Ess buried in her magenta robes, Pierce, smiling, faceplate up. Then he saw Agrathor and gasped.
"Yes," Axebourne said, a teacher witnessing the spark of understanding in his student. "We are..." he said it as a leading question.
"G-Gorgonbane," said the clerk. "I never thought I'd... Yes sir, Mr... Axebourne? Sir. Or is it Mr. Cleaver? I'll go find the commander this instant. I do believe he's in from the barracks inspection."
The clerk fairly floated across the lobby and through a guarded double doors leading deeper into the building.
Axebourne smiled. "I harbor no addiction to fame, but I really do love it when they realize who they're talking to."
"The variety of reactions all within the same vein is truly astounding," said Scythia.
The clerk returned after a few minutes, holding the doors open and waiting.
"Commander Thorne will see you. He says his office is too small, so I'm taking you out to the courtyard," said the clerk. He led the way, and Gorgonbane followed.
The courtyard was simple but tastefully adorned with a pebbled path around its perimeter, a short-cropped lawn within, and a single fountain of sculpted petrified wood that wasn't currently running. Wooden benches were placed intermittently along the path, and Thorne stood near one of these.
The commander was about Axebourne's age, scars on his dark face calling back to times of war. He'd shaved his head bald, and his skin had the pallor of someone afflicted with bloodwaste. Awful disease, that, Pierce thought. His grandfather had perished of it.
"Hail, Gorgonbane," he greeted. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
When they had come close enough, they each clasped his arm in turn.
"To Kash and his infernal minions," Agrathor muttered. Axebourne gave him a look.
"We have learned of ill intentions toward the city," said Axebourne. "Would that we could greet you with better news, but it seems that the Underlord has developed the means, and the desire, to bring an attack force to bear on Overland. As we understand it, Grondell is to be his initial target."
"Well, that's not good," said Commander Thorne. "Are you sure? How can you know? Kash has never been one to announce his plans to us Overlanders."
"Pierce Gemwaster was prisoner of the painreapers for a time," Scythia said, and the Commander's eyes widened. "They were foolish enough to speak of Kash's plans in his presence, and to allow his escape from the Testadel."
"Gemwaster?" Pierce asked. It sounded better than Boonswadled, but...
"Well I saw you blow through five of them fighting that Monstrosity," she said. "I assume there were at least another five before that. Some might consider firing the gauntlet into thin air a waste."
Pierce shrugged in acceptance. "Still, it's not very brutal," he said.
Axebourne cleared his throat.
"Sorry," said Scythia.
"Sorry," said Pierce.
"And how did he escape?" Thorne was not dubious, but genuinely curious.
"A forgemaster let me out, Commander," Pierce said.
Thorne looked to Axebourne, who nodded in assent. Pierce was to be believed.
"Why would a forgemaster do that?" Thorne asked.
"Because I could have killed him, but I spared his life," Pierce said. "I didn't really go down to the Underlands to kill
