“We are s-secure.” Corallan chittered to her familiars. These smaller insects were quite useful messengers. They could take smaller air passages to quickly transverse the great distances available within The Spire.
What was even more beneficial, if these smaller flying insects are close enough, is that they can signal to one another. Like an expansive game of whispers until the message gets to the end, but without an intelligence of their own the message has no chance to become warped. A hive-mind grants them perfected communication.
“What-t-t of the other gates-s-s?” Corallan spoke to a few of her insects that ran over the walls surrounding her final gate—personally checking several of the exits herself. After a few moments, one of the insects began clicking its response, then another, then the last.
“Good-d.” She turned toward a few of the insectoid soldiers. “None enter-r. None leave. Gohdin-n has spoken!” These warriors bowed and readied their weapons. “I must-t-t join him!”
The Captain of the South Guard took off. Her dark form blurred around corners, up walls, and through certain areas that others might find more difficult to fit. She hurried herself toward her master. He needs me! She clicked wildly in hopes of proving her might before the punishment had been finalized.
Across The Spire, Jeseph had finished commanding his troops. Not a one under his command hesitated. Off they went, different directions and routes to secure every western gate. Once his commands had been given, he turned confidently toward the path to Tartarus.
“I will remove these traitors’ heads myself. On my way.” The goliath rumbled the floor with each step. He did this normally; however, today, each step carried the weight of his rage.
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In The Stables, Bo’Ra’Set had finished securing each of the doorways to the mounts and animals. Each had a magical lock that could be activated in times of distress—a detail that Christoph had not been aware of. Bo’Ra’Set hurried along each side of the impressive hall to ensure no creature was missing. Locking each, he confirmed that his team has secured each gate on the northern side.
RAWR! The lion-man couldn’t contain the anger in his throat. “The king marches. No one enters without my permission, grr. Is that understood?!” Four humanoids like bipedal hyenas drooped their heads in their own form of bowing. They began heckling together as they hurried to the sides of the entrance. “I am needed! You are my weapons, and my weapons do not fail! I’m on my way!” He let out another fierce growl before his mighty lion legs began to speed down the hall.
Sashro’s wizards, sorcerers, and magic students had all taken to their respective gates. Whether it be protected by barriers, destructive magic users, magic traps, or alchemic mechanisms, those beneath their Captain ensured none would break the king’s command. At each door, the senior member would sound out their confirmation.
“The east gates are secured!”
Every announcement was picked up by these thousands of bugs in the cracks along the walls and floor. Their communications were then transmitted along the path. Through the gaps in the stone, down the tunnels, up the mine shafts, and through doorways or stairwells, every communication found its way to Corallan.
The Spire was in absolute lockdown. Everyone within would be on trial. The warden of this mighty prison would rule whether Hell or Paradise was to be found there. His Captains were on their way; each carrying the bloodlust of a general prepared for battle. Come and see the four Captains of Surton Spire. Come and see their loyalty and strength.
Come and see them revel in the might of their king.