The door rolled open, and Winston Norton stepped inside his quarters. Not much has changed there, save for a few new crates of ammunition and a long wooden box that stood on the side.
“I hope it’s the new one I’ve requested our artificers to build for me. They have to get it right this time.”
His room had a simple, almost bare layout: a bed to rest on, a chair and table to work, dine, or clean his collection of firearms, a large drawer where he puts most of his written plans and works, and a cabinet to keep his clothes in. The place was well-kept, despite the past few days where he was demanded to be in the field supervising operations to acquire new men for the crime lord’s forces.
Winston was about to sit on his bed when three knocks vibrated and danced across his room. He had rid himself of his cloak right before he shook his head and reached to see who the knocker was. He looked through the door’s small looking glass and saw one of the Gray Fox’s office guards standing before his room. They were the only ones in the facility that wore three-piece khakis outfits that resembled a uniform, if the laboratory workers were excluded from the active operatives. He should have issued actual battle attire on these walking posts, not these things he considered confused parade attire.
“Commander Norton.” The stern voice was cut by a fist that softly pounded on his chest. He took a bow and continued, “The Gray Fox requests your presence. Come to his study immediately.”
“Of course.” His voice was scraping, although at half strength. “I will be there right away.”
He watched the soldier give another salute before dashing away from him. Winston would have wished he had told the man that he would like to bathe before seeing the Gray Fox; his trips outside made him feel rather greasy – the smell of motor oil coming from his right sleeve was caught by his nose as well.
The good doctor would understand, of course.
The place was not too far from his quarters – only a walk to the end of the hallway, followed by a left turn. The syndicate leader’s room was hard to miss; the strange layout of the door was an immediate giveaway. All he did was look at the blue glass dome above the doorway; the device blinked twice, followed by a long hiss that pulled the door apart. Winston saw the Gray Fox standing in front of his desk, fixing many documents that were gathered at the center of his table. It took him a few moments before the open door registered in his ears; he faced the stubble-riddled guest in a stern but partly startled look.
“Ah, Mister Norton.” The Gray Fox stacked his papers and books and walked towards his aide. “You have come just in time. It looks like you have been very busy these past few days.”
“Indeed.” Winston nodded; the sheen of his verdant optic was seen against one of the study’s lamps. “Syndicates have been… wary since our campaign at Altrecht. At least, none of the groups suspect us of being behind the operation on the Imperial Archives. Also, the Constables have been more vigilant than ever around the major cities. Rumors of the Imperial Army regulars being mobilized are abundant as of late. It would not be long before the Town Guards are to receive better armament to combat us.”
“Disturbing these updates are, but there are other matters that require our attention.”
A spread of photographs was laid on the table. Some were taken from the air; Winston made out the tops of trees that covered a clearing. There was a large scar of bare earth that looked like it was dug by a colossal shovel. Bodies of slain monsters were strewn all over the clearing; a photograph managed to capture a bullet hole on one of the remains.
“As you can see, I have released some of the creatures to monitor how they would interact with our forests.” The Gray Fox held a small glass; the smell of grain spirit hung around the rim. “Whoever found them did not take to them kindly.”
“I was expecting there would be vehicle tracks of any kind, but this part of the woods was impassable to those.” Winston stared at the images, flipping from one photograph to the next. “An aerial vehicle, perhaps?”
“I do not recall any gun - or rocket, in the Imperial arsenal that could do this.”
“All I can see is that these monsters can be felled by our weapons.” Winston's voice was dry, partly due to what his superior was drinking.
“That can be something drawn from this experience, in case we are to control these beasts ourselves.” The Gray Fox handed a glass and a bottle of liquor to his advisor. “This is a damper on what I was planning to do.”
“Pardon, Master. I do not understand.”
“You see, Mister Norton, I planned to try out a more… how you say this?” The crime lord moved around and watched as his advisor sat down before resuming their conversation. “Ah, of course, elaborate. Yes, a more elaborate version of what I conducted back at the Schweiglands. I was about to discuss the specifics. Security matters with you. This development made me reconsider that step.”
"This forest is no longer safe from whatever destroyed those creatures." Winston's green eye lit up. "But I have to say, I fear whatever brought this kind of destruction to those monsters. This is nothing a gun, lesser than a warship's main armament, can make."
"I have thoughts. This feels the same as what destroyed our fighting machines back in Altrecht."
"The bullets on some of them?" Winston's stare was not returned; the crime lord was fixated on the images.
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"Yes. A problem indeed. Do you think those from Fortune's Smile have anything to do with this?"
"I have placed a few of our men within their ranks. They should pose no threat to us." Winston’s back stood straight out of his seat’s backrest. “We could offer a more active watch, but I would guess the Imperials are on the move as we speak.”
“A security cordon on any of the sites would raise further alarm. Our enemies are aware of what took place.”
The crime lord took out another map from his worktable; the squares and angled areas revealed to Winston’s eyes that this was taken from a city. He bent down and drew an envelope with a few documents inside, but he took out a section that contained a few diagrams. He gulped down what remained of his drink and poured a new serving from the bottle before he continued:
“Fortunately, there are other matters I have to pay attention to.”
“Luminberg?” Winston looked at the letters inscribed on a page that peeked out of the file case.
“I’ll not bore you with the specifics. It’s a contract secured through the Silbern Family. We’re to rebuild a relic from the First Empire.” The Gray Fox said, “Come to think of it, hear my musings for an idea.”
“My ears are ready.”
“The setup I was about to ask of you for the Antikwald is far from possible in the meantime, now that some knowledge of the monsters has been indirectly handed over to the Empire. My misgivings, of course. It should have been in another contained location.”
Winston nodded, but his lips gave off a slight frown at what The Gray Fox said.
“I am thinking, my plans require a sizeable investment of magical energy.” The crime lord looked at the city map on his table. “I don’t have the means to extract quantities of it yet, but in case I can develop the method fast enough, do you think we have the means to surround Luminberg?”
“Luminberg is a formidable city to take on.”
Winston looked at a pair of determined eyes. Here he was, taking on another gamble that involved throwing every man the syndicate had. A foolhardy idea, he thought. The Gray Fox, with the largest number of his men, fell quickly to the Albertans. Whether it was for control or for a reason the advisor was yet to understand, subduing Luminberg could be just as costly, if not more. He attempted to dissuade the leader by saying:
“We do not have enough resources to overcome that city, if we are to attack it.”
“I know that, of course, Mister Norton.” The crime lord’s voice gained a pitch higher at the last syllable. “Committing all our ranks against the city is fruitless and a big expense with little gain. I cannot hope to win frontally against its defenders even with an army at my control.”
The Gray Fox brought up a pamphlet to the light. A crest of a dragon grasping an orb in its left hand and a book in its right was seen as its letterhead. An image of the city’s walls was highlighted in the brochure. There was more than one copy, but the others were in different languages that the advisor had no knowledge of. The crime lord took another swig before sitting down.
“I took on a rather interesting project from the City Magistrate. The government opened its doors to private investors who would help it in reconstructing the known Wizards’ Wall. They plan for a ceremonial version of it as a commemoration to… a known part of the city’s history.”
“I am sorry, Master, but I have not stayed in this country for too long to be aware of your customs.”
“It was a defensive system of a forgotten era.” The crime lord’s shoulder laxed; his hand holding the pamphlet lowered at waist level. “This was basically a wall of magical energy made solid that could either block or dissolve anything attempting to go through it. Luminberg’s administration wanted this barrier reactivated, but a little... toned down, compared to the original construction of the defenses.”
“What does this have to do with your plans, Master?”
“I won the bid almost a year ago, and of course, I have found new knowledge to use the project so that we can ‘modify’ the Wizards’ Wall to our needs.”
The Gray Fox cupped his chin and massaged it. He was switching from one diagram to another as he spoke:
“I intend to replace the crystals with versions that not only seal the citizens, but also drain them of the needed energies. If that is not possible, a secondary mechanism for the intended purpose will be installed.”
“Do you intend to turn Luminberg into a trap?” Winston almost stood up, but somehow managed to control his reaction. “This idea of yours is very lofty, but are we sure it can be done perfectly without having to lose at least half our ranks in the process?”
“This is where your services are needed, Mister Norton.” The Gray Fox’s voice lost its novelty and became more serious. “The trap will be activated, and I would expect hostile resistance from the remnants of Luminberg’s soldiers, and outside reinforcements should they get beyond the wall. I want to be sure that all the energy collected from the city is safely brought here.”
“I will need more time to come up with an effective strategy for this proposal of yours, Master. Luminberg is not a place we can trifle with.”
“That will not be a problem, yes, in the meantime, of course.” The Gray Fox held the invitation to the light; his signature was affixed at the bottom right as confirmation of his interest. He resumed:
“I will meet up with the administration to gain clearance to ship the components to Luminberg one at a time, whichever can be made at the moment. I estimate that it will take anywhere from a week to a month before my associates and I can develop the best approach. You have until the month before the celebrations to come up with something that will guarantee our task a success.”
“Surely I would have come up with something by then.” Winston looked at the map of Luminberg; his thoughts were on the city walls that encircled the locale. “I will need a proper estimate on how many of our forces we can commit to this, or if we would need all of Hollegrehenn’s machines to fill in if our men are not enough.”
“I will request our dear machinists to speed up the production of the constructs as required.” The Gray Fox’s voice was cool and reserved; he returned the Luminberg document to his desk. “We will discuss more of this in the following week. Of course, I have to be sure that the best approach to this demand is ready before making other moves.”
“That is beyond what I can advise on.” Winston took a sip of his drink. He shook his head twice before setting the glass on the table. “That is something your circle of experts would need to listen to you.”
“Little doubt, Mister Norton.”
The Gray Fox continued reading through some of the documents. Winston didn’t appreciate the drink as well as the crime lord thought. He helped himself to another glass as he glanced at the papers. One of the photographs slid on top of a page he was supposed to pick up. There it was: the image of that new clearing made by whoever confronted the otherworldly beasts. Raw power that needed no declaration. The crime lord set aside the document between his fingers and stared at the picture of a gash of upturned earth.
