The brown cloaked man snaked through the streets of Grey city. He wrapped a black scarf over half of his face; further concealing his identity. The concealed man knocked three times at a half rotten door and waited expectedly.

"The bells rise over the sun and - " A high pitched voice crossed through the door.

"Allure comes down to correct her sinful creations." The man responded with practiced ease and the door was opened and behind it lay a grey-white steel door. A full minute passed and the man entered the room.

He was escorted by a young boy. Clearly an orphan. They're always easy to recuit. Loyal to, if you feed them three times a day and give them some worthwile education. The concealed man fixed his eyes on the boy and nodded.

Frozen in fear, in front of this stranger, he momentarily forgot his protocols and tried to calm down. He lead the stranger further up the 'sunclock tower' where another steel door blocked their path. He proceeded to knock twice and the door was opened.

A beautiful array of glass lined up every bit of the walls, manned by several dozens of people. 

Romen looked up and marvelled once again. He could see teams of people working together to pull a pulley. Wooden gears rotating and moving the glass in precise locations. Light bounced and reflected across the tower and landing in several dark matted surfaces. Trained scribes jotted down the frequency of the light in dots and dashes and the other translated it.

I wish I came up with this! But that credit goes to Daz Venchin. The mad engineer of Renaglio. So mad that no one paid attention to him and judged his inquisitive mind as nothing but silly flights of fancy. The secretive man sighed in anger. Such an amazing device should've been recognised! He got infamy when he wanted acclaim. Got ridiculed and shamed. But he continued despite it. In the end he created sets of instructions to make this machine! He created a code. The Venchin Code.

Romen snorted a laughter and remembered something. 

"Excuse me... You want me to do what?!" The young blond haired man gave him incredule looks. He glanced up and down at him and sighed.

"Yes your grace. I believe it to be essential to rein in your rebellious vassals."

"As long as they do what I say they can be 'rebellious' as much as they want." The young Duke waved sarcastically at that and continued. "Romen you need to snap out of it. Your being too paranoid. You should know paranoia is what killed my father." He said with an edge on his voice.

Romen wanted to grab his liege and shake him out of his naivety. "Albrecht look around you! Your 'chancellor' is pilfering from the treasury. The steward does whatever he says not what you say. May almighty Allure help you because you're being stupid. It needs to be said."

"Careful Romen. Perhaps in the past I may have been lenient but your insolence is breaking the Divine Social Order. I cannot allow that to go unnoticed. Since you're a friend, this time shall be forgiven."

"Your grace. Please listen to your servant, nay friend!"

"I'm listening." He quickly added.

Romen frowned at that and doubted it and so questioned him with a stab. "Do you love Elaena?"

"That's a ridiculous question! How does it relate to this!" He pointed at the Contraption. 

"Just answer it!"

"Yes."

"Are you looking forward to the child she's carrying?"

"Yes! What's your point!" Albrecht impatiently spat with his temper bursting.

"Do you want them to live?"

"Are you threatening me! It seems you have forgotten your place-"

"Do you want them to live?" Romen resolutely asked again.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Yes! Don't interrupt me!"

"Apologies for that your grace. But allow me to make my point. You are doing everything in your power to kill them."

"What the fuck do you want from me! This is slander! -" Albrecht pointed his shaking arms. Noticing his friend's disappointment he deflated and lowered his arm. "- I didn't do anything."

"Exactly. You. Did. Nothing! You did nothing when traders came to this land and was made to pay punishing tolls. You did nothing when your revenue went down. You did nothing when your chancellor and steward stole from you! These signs of weakness may end up killing them!" 'And you!' Rommen muttered. 

"All I hear are rants and criticisms without advice. Your a poor advisor. No?" 

"Let me give advice then your grace. You need information! Information about scandals regarding your vassals. You need nigh omniscient levels of surveillance. We just need one. We need ONE... Piece of bad information regarding the chancellor. Then suddenly, your powerful chancellor will resign. Just like magic! And the Koppinghans will put and shut up. If you build this you'll never suffer such disobedience again. Your hands will remain without manacles restraining you."

"You would resort to dishonourable tactics like blackmail?" Albrecht looked at his friend and grinned.

"Among other things. Yes."

"You mentioned us running out of money. Yet you advice me to construct these... Mini-lighthouses to be built across the duchy and train people to work these -" He pointed at the eccentric contraption. "- things. Hire craftsmen to build those circles with weird edges as well. I don't know how much it's going to cause but it'll definetly bleed money. Just so I can collect 'rumours and whispers' at essentially the speed of light!"

The slim man smiled at that. "I'm not suggesting to build those right away. Just replace the steward and chancellor for now and have Ser Elvaughn deal with the gateguard's corruption. I'll keep pestering you for the umpteenth time until you do."

"You love the word 'umpteenth' don't you?"

"I'm a repetitive man." He grinned cheekily at Albrecht and both exploded in laughter.

"Who's going to replacing them then? I need the chancellor to be at least one of the powerful vassals to balance Count Koppinghan's influence."

"If we were lucky and get something good on him then we can easily give that position to a commoner. Without any repercussions." 

"Like you." The young Duke gave him an appraising glance.

"No. NO. NO!" He paused to clear his throat. "I was just joking. Your right. So I recommend Count Huntsman. He's slightly younger than both of us and I hear he has a way with words. An aspiring diplomat is what the court is saying."

"Where are you hearing these?" Albrecht asked and was prepared to be disappointed again.

Romen grinned and suppressed his pride. "I hear them from the walls."

Albrecht facepalmed and rudely stated his insubordination. Is what I think I remember him doing.

The secretive man was brought out of his nostalgia by one of the gear instructers yelling. "Shift the gears to the left! We've got a flare from the south east!"

Romen perked his ears at that. South east? That's where the Hunstman domain is.

He waited for the sequence of light shining to stop and read the translation.

'Raid. In Hensfield. Prisoners taken. Baron take Prisoners. To Grey.'

Interesting. I thought the invaders were too preoccupied at Surman. Did they run out of supplies? Seems far too away to forage. Scouts from the south host? Very likely. Why go east though?

At least we have prisoners to 'question' now.

The translators stared at him in suspicion and glared at him. And a few of them pulled a dagger and pointed it at him.

Ah! Better get rid of the scarf. He also promptly lowered his hood. "Put your weapons down!"

Realising their mistake, the daggers were quickly put back out of sight.

"Apologies, Lord Romen. We thought you were an intruder. I'm the head translator here and I'll take full responsibilty." One of them came up and tried to cover his colleagues.

He's a brave man. Standing up for his friends. Very admirable. "What's your name, translator?"

The brave translator replied without stuttering, "My name is Petin my lord."

No peasant accent. Good. Very good. 

"Petin can you lead me to where I can find more of these?" He picked up the translated manuscript and waved it around.

"Yes my lord. Please follow me."

Romen stared in the pile of manuscripts and nearly gasped. "This much in just one day!"

"My lord. Their not all light messages. Most of them are from the palace."

Romen nodded in understanding and dismissed him. I should pay attention to him. He seems he has potential. "Are you really the head translator?"

The young man pretended to not hear him and sped away.

The spymaster snorted in amusement at that and picked a letter detailing Ser Elvaughn's plan.

So this is what he's trying to do? Quite simple too. Guess he can't be tactical about it when he hasn't even seen the terrain. Lets fix that. 

He signalled one of the gear instructors to come to him. "Send an order for available agents, trained in combat and cartography, to gather in the south near... -" He tried to remember a town near the knight's choice of engagement -"Near Harkon's town. Order them to scout out the forests near it and whether to confirm if the plain there is 'flat'."

This should hopefully help that honourable 'virgin'. Romen laughed to him self causing the instructor to be puzzled. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

The gear instructor fled away and yelled at the pulley workers. The wall made of glass danced once again in intricate patterns. Dozens of ravens also flew at once.

Victory is assured. He sycophantly repeated in his head.

Victory should be assured.