The sun rose above the horizon, shining its first light on a burning city. Thick plumes of smoke rose from behind cracked walls, their white stones reflecting the sunshine where they had not been blackened.

Atop those walls, Mino gazed upon the bay before him. He had grown used to the sight of the thousand something ships anchored there, but the frustration had not subdued in the least. The night had been one of the harshest yet in the two months that they had been under siege.

Boulder upon boulder had been raining down on them all night, fierce flames enveloping them and exploding when they landed. Their Sealers had been sleep-deprived for weeks now and they had failed to stop all of the incoming boulders, causing the first casualties within their own walls. The ship-bound trebuchets lay dormant now, safely out of reach from the walls.

With a sigh, Mino turned away from the bay and walked along the battlements towards the western walls. Two weeks had passed since the first enemy approach by ground had been pushed back by his forces. He counted himself lucky there had been no Enhancers in the assault party or things might have ended differently.

“Mino!” a voice came from ahead. He spotted Bashaa approaching him. “Mino! Are the trebuchets silent?”

“For now,” he answered softly. “We should have some time to repair the walls where necessary. How were things here?”

Bashaa grimaced. “There were a few attempts at approaching the outer walls, but we detected them before they could do any damage.” He seemed to hesitate.

“What is it, Bashaa? Now’s not the time to withhold questions.”

“Four weeks, Mino. Four weeks since that single assault. Since then, the only thing we’ve been doing is shooing away anyone who comes to close to the walls.” The frustration was nearly palpable.

Mino raised an eyebrow. “Do you wish to fight then? Are you so eager to see men die?”

He seemed abashed for a moment. “It’s not that,” he admitted. “I just wish I knew what they were up to. This waiting and not doing anything is getting me riled up.”

“So what about if we did something?” he asked Bashaa, who looked up in surprise. The idea had been floating around in the back of his mind for a while now, but he had never acted upon it. “Pick three of those you think best suitable for a stealth mission and meet me this evening at the gate. Tell no one else.”

Bashaa’s eyes appeared eager all of a sudden and he nodded fervently.

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“They have their base camp just beyond Soler’s Hill,” Mino whispered to his four companions. Bashaa had picked exactly those he had thought of initially. Ceram, Frey and Fest. Three he had personally trained together with Bashaa.

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“Remember, this is a reconnaissance mission. We are just here to gather information, find out what they’re planning and get out.” He locked eyes with them one by one. “If you get spotted, act like you belong. I doubt these men know every single face that makes up their army, might as well pass as one of them.”

The four of them nodded and spread out into the night. Steeling his resolve, Mino moved out as well and crawled his way up Soler’s Hill. The typical sounds of a military camp soon reached his ears. Laughter, cursing, music and the cheers of those encouraging others in their brawls. They did not seem concerned at all, having utter faith in the forward guards Mino and the others had evaded so easily.

He rounded the hill and gazed upon the encampment. It looked very much like any military camp he had seen during his campaigns on the Planes of Hinsay although much less organized. Hundreds of tent illuminated by torches made up the fields below him, easily a thousand men moving in between them. Each of these tents could hold ten soldiers easily, he knew.

But these were not trained soldiers. These were pirates, outlaws and deserters, held together only by the reverence or fear they felt for the Warbringer. If only he had the Skyswords under his command again, he would make quick work of this ragged band of miscreants. Still, they were not to be underestimated. He realized very well there were dozens of Enhancers among these men.

Utilizing the cover of the night and the trees that were scattered about on this hill, he made his way down the slope carefully. They might have made it passed the forward guards, there could always be guards circling a narrower perimeter around the camp. Slowly but surely he neared the outermost tents, snoring and talking emerging from within them.

Staying low and undetected, he crept past them, eavesdropping for any conversations that might be of interest. They were common army talk though, talking of past victories, of a home left behind and a lover abandoned. Finally, he reached one of the larger tents he had spotted from above. From within, a more serious discussion could be heard.

“And I’m telling you we should push from the west,” a crude voice spoke. “We broke their resistance last time before the Enhancers showed up. We should meet them with our own.”

He was answered by a more serene voice, a voice of reason. “The Warbringer doesn’t wish to spill Talented blood so soon. He’s in no hurry to conquer the city. He wants to bleed them out drop by drop, weaken them even if it takes months to do so.”

“Then what are we doing here?” the first voice retorted. “Why be here if we don’t even do anything.”

The other man sighed in frustration and even though he was his enemy, Mino could understand what it must be like to command men like this who had no clue about tactical warfare.

“Come, walk with me,” he spoke and Mino heard a chair scraping over rocky ground. “Let me show you something that will help you understand.”

The sound of footsteps faded away and without giving it a second thought, he slipped underneath the tent’s covers and slipped inside. If this was the commander’s living quarters, there had to be something interest to find here.

Hurriedly, he rummaged through the papers on the desk and inside the small drawers stashed away around the tent. They were maps mostly, but other documents were found as well. Those he hid away underneath his vest, reading them would be a later concern.

“You see, Terrel,” he suddenly heard as the flap of the tent’s entrance was being pushed away, revealing two men in commander’s outfits. “This is why we stay here, to apprehend eager men like this one.”

Before Mino had the time to react, the man held up his hand, a small purple rock bound to his palm with the use of a leather strap. White light filled the palm and burst forward, knocking him unconscious.