Drenadora laid just two weeks away. A fortnight was all they left me to prepare. Did they know I'd come? They'd dropped the paper and hadn't gone back to pick it up, so they could've completely forgotten about it. No, they would know it's missing eventually. Even if they didn't know that I'd be the one to show up, they would have to assume something would happen. Something that could through a trowel in the plans they already had set up for that day. They would incorporate this irregularity into the steps they'll take to secure whatever goal they have in mind. I still hadn't the slightest clue what they could be aiming for, but their name gave me a clue. Kingfall. I shuddered just thinking of the name. It was exactly what I was aiming for. Something filled with such unmatchable malice, something that would be seen as nothing but an attempt to incite chaos and disorder in the nation. Yet, I did not feel like these were foes who I wouldn't find my triumph against. If they were going to make a plan more complex than the last, one intended to counter whoever they believed got a hold of that little slip of paper then I just needed to think even further ahead. I needed to act as if I were them and think about what they would be adding, and what extra measures they would be taking.
If I were to try and destroy the capital, how would I go about it? They already had that part down, or at least I thought they did. Whatever that object was, that ball that was glowing in their hands, that must be the way they intend to achieve whatever they've set out to do. It must be some kind of weapon, that glow wasn't like anything I'd ever heard of. Purple and green...
Purple was a color I'd only heard of when it came to flame. A rumor surfaced a while back about some chef who had prepared a meal for the king that was the most exquisite he had ever tasted. Everything was cooked to perfection, the king himself couldn't find a single issue despite his famously implacable palate. On top of that, the chef cooked it all within the hour. Various collections of different meats, all of which were on a grill for different amounts of time. Hoards of vegetables from local farms combined with fruits from the Aerdal forest. The king himself was so curious about how the chef managed to create such a meal for him within such a short time span, so he had one of his servants spy on the chef while he was making a course when he came back to the castle a second time. The server came back and he could not speak for days, when they finally returned him from the temporary trance all he could talk about was a purple flame, and how it was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before. That same rumor spells out that the servant who spied on the chef went insane, obsessing over him everywhere he went. Eventually, the king had him jailed so he wouldn't contribute to public detriment.
As for green, I could only find a connection to the forest. Perhaps there was some metaphorical connection, the Aerdal forests are rumored to be the most dangerous throughout all of Mrothilyn, and so the designer of this thing chose to add a color along with one that had been held in high regard in terms of its capabilities, a color that was associated with a land known for nothing but the poor omens that it sent to any person wishing to traverse its vast collections of trees and swamps. Maybe this designer that Kingfall was relying on was a fan of the abstract, maybe he wanted to get some sort of message across. Regardless of this, I knew that whatever Kingfall possessed was capable of great destruction. There was no doubt that if I did not choose to intervene when their plan reached its climax they'd bring about the end of everything this nation and I hold dear. The safety of our citizens, the organization of our lives. My God, they were anarchists!
Anarchism is a harmful ideology, it may as well be the work of nothing but evil. I wouldn't be surprised if the creator of that collection of beliefs came out and said he liked to kick babies in the head just for the fun of it. The members of that little cult, the people who don't like that there are rules you have to respect in this world, the people who take every little sleight as an attack on their freedom, they'd never had a single coherent thought. Can't piss in the park? The monarchy needs to go. Can't rob a stand in the market? The capital should burn. Can't kill a man for screaming at me when I bump into him after walking while not looking where I'm going?
Well, obviously this nation should be returned to the rubble which it rose from.
They weren't dangerous because of the thoughts they had in their screwed-up minds, no, they were dangerous because of the complete lack of thought. They wanted to live life on their whims and never look back, and they would cry and scream when this world wouldn't let them. Usually, I didn't have to pay attention to them. They'd yell at any passerby in a local square about how everyone's lives were horrible, and how the solution was to rule over ourselves. They always liked to guise the violence that came with their brazen proposals with the promise of great fortune for anyone who followed them. But apart from whatever conscientious objection they staged for the day, you'd never see them fighting with the guards, and you'd never see any attempts on the king's life. Well, the king is enough of a tough opponent himself. He didn't earn his title through any hereditary connection. Anyway, any one of these people who got passed the mental gap of actually putting words into actions was someone who I couldn't trust to know when to stop. Once they got to that phase, their beliefs didn't matter anymore. It was as though they were running on pure adrenaline until they either failed so badly that they were forced to snap out of their deluded state, or they were killed.
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The only two people to ever pose a threat like that in the entire history of Melantia were the Ernstoff twins. Two lunatics who killed the queen and left the royal family in disarray. If the current king hadn't been there to take the crown, their attempts at destabilizing the entire country would've easily succeeded. I heard that even after the king thwarted their second and third attempts at razing the capital, they tried to fight him. Their fight of course ended in a total and complete loss, and the last I heard they were spending their lives imprisoned under the royal palace. Some addendum to this story found its way to me a week back, it talked about how the king would sometimes bring them out to watch him host royal banquets.
I was getting off-topic, what was my first step? I needed to get more information on the area that they would be meeting first. If I knew where they were going to meet, I could plan out whether I would hide and wait for an opportunity to ambush them, whether I would leave an anonymous tip with the guards, or whether I had to simply face them by myself without any sort of underhanded tactics. The slip of paper said that they would meet at an intersection of the sewers underneath the Royal pathway. I don't know much about the sewer system of the capital, but I knew one way that I could get in.
I headed down the street across the royal pathway until I was no longer in East Prym. I found this entrance while wandering around with the gal one night. Chief Rayner had told me to do some cleanup work around the base of operations, but I knew that she was just testing me, seeing if she could force me to do work that was well below my pay grade. I woke the gal up late in the night and asked if she wanted to come with me, and she did. Llora's Ladle was a seemingly run-down food joint near the west wall of Prymdor. You would never see more than one or two people walk into at once, and the lights were never on. Scratches and broken glass were scattered across whatever was left of the inn, and there was a "We're closed" sign that was vandalized to say "forever."
Most people would be turned away by such a sight, but a savvy man such as myself knew that nothing in Prymdor was as it immediately seemed. The reason why the place never attracted a large amount of foot traffic was because it was an entry into the sewers. Various illegal activities took place down there, mostly low-level things like the sale of contraband, and betting organizations for various sporting events. There were even some people who were just there to have a drink after hours. Nothing there was worth my time to come all the way over just to spread the word of justice. The inside of the joint itself was run down as well, they wanted to seem as inconspicuous as they possibly could. The way I heard it, they let a Chidle just to destroy the place. I often wondered if they'd try to pull a stunt like that again if this entrance was ever discovered. Behind what was supposed to qualify as a bar was a trapdoor in the ground. There was a torn carpet over it, several things about this place were made so no random guard with too much free time could just wander in and ruin the whole operation they had going on down there. When you lifted the trapdoor, there was a staircase down to a large metal door. This was the entry to the sewers. When you got to the door, you had to knock and yell the password.
"Free Bagadoth, he didn't do anything wrong."
The doors opened after I gave them the password and two large men stared at me as I walked past them into the sewers themselves. I never understood why that was the password, Bagadoth was infamous for instituting a system of slavery that lasted for a couple of centuries. I didn't take people who were actively committing crimes to be the kind of people who would want that sort of order.
With the long process of just getting in complete, I made my way through the winding hallways. Sometimes I would walk past rooms as various deals and other illegal activities were going on, and I'd remind myself that barging in would do no good, at least not at the moment. After what felt like an hour of walking through sewers that were ridden with, well, sewer smell, I heard the sounds of carriages above me, and I knew that I had finally made my way under the royal path. I had found the intersection referenced in the slip of paper.