The king threw the report down in disgust. Seated at his desk in his personal study, August Vi Rilmgard, ruler of the grand kingdom of Rilmgard and all who lived within its borders, looked up at his royal spymaster, a short, stocky dwarf.

The dwarf's shaved head and lack of beard marked him as a Shorn, an exile from the dwarven kingdoms. Some left their kingdom after having shamed themselves in such a way that there could be no means by which to atone. Others left due to having committed terrible crimes and were given a choice to either be exiled or executed. Harn Clanless, formerly Harn Stonebreak, had left his home over a dispute regarding who would inherit the seat of the clan chief.

Having a fraternal twin brother had meant that an internal clan war was inevitable once their father had passed, and such a war often quickly escalated to involve dozens of clans. It wasn't unusual for a full-scale civil war to break out in such a situation. Harn had opted to prevent such an event by voluntarily becoming a Shorn over a century ago. Tall for a dwarf, he was well over five and a half feet tall, and were it not for his clearly dwarven nose and eyebrows, he might easily have been mistaken for a short, stocky if undeniably impressively well-built human. Having served the realm and the crown for over a century, the king trusted Harn with his life, his kingdom, and his secrets.

Taking a deep breath, the king stood up and walked over to the window overlooking the city. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the glass and noted that while he was starting to gray slightly at the temples, he was looking well for a man forty years old. He'd managed to keep a trim physique, and his black hair and short beard were well-groomed.

A king had to look the part, he reflected, or else his subjects would not respect him. Barring an unexpected illness, death, or early onset of senility, August suspected he had a good twenty years or more left in him before he'd need to worry about passing the torch to the next generation. His heir was shaping up beautifully and should be ready to take the throne when the time came. In the interim, however, it fell to the king to make sure the kingdom survived long enough for the baton of leadership to be passed to the next generation.

"I will not insult your intelligence by asking if this has been confirmed," the king said as he admired the skyline of the royal capital. "I know you too well to question the contents of this report. I simply have difficulty believing that a royal edict could not only be ignored, but outright violated, and so flagrantly by an established royal institution like the Royal Academy of Sorcerous Studies. That RASS itself, an organization founded and funded by the crown, would go against my orders and mistreat the one commoner student I'd enrolled... it's disgusting and disheartening."

Harn, seated comfortably in a chair specially built to hold his heavy dwarven frame, poured himself a snifter of brandy and admitted, "We knew it was possible. That's why we started with a test case of a single student, rather than a dozen. It's also why we didn't tell the faculty or students they'd be watched."

The king gave a sad chuckle and repeated something Harn had often said. "A person's true character isn't what they do when they're being closely watched or fear reprisal from others. It's when a person thinks he's alone and can get away with the wrongdoing that his true nature comes out."

Tipping his glass back, Harn then set it down and made an appreciative noise. "I've always said that," the large dwarf admitted, his expression dour.

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"It's a terrible thing, being able to understand the nature of people. The good news is, we now know very well who is actively violating the edict, who supports them, and who simply sits by and lets it happen. The bad news is that it's nearly the entire school. The only student that seems to be trying to do anything for the poor lass is Madeline de Alvorin. Thing is, I don't think that young Lily even realizes how sympathetic the lady is to her plight, being so wrapped up in her own problems. Teenagers are often like that."

The king turned back, then nodded at the dwarf. "The Alvorins have long been more known to be generous to the less fortunate," the king stated, "so it's hardly a surprise."

The king sat back down at his desk, and said, "After the tournament, we'll need to see about some means by which we can compensate Lily Arvensdaughter for the misery she's been forced to go through while we're implementing reforms. She's performed a tremendous service to the crown unknowingly and suffered terribly for it, so it behooves us to repay that service." He paused to consider things. "She's skilled in both barrier magic and the healing arts, so perhaps a position within the royal bodyguard might work. She's young, so she could use serving as a handmaiden for my wife or daughter as a cover."

Harn, chuckling, admitted, "It's a good idea. The lass will need some decent instruction before stepping in since from what has been reported the faculty at RASS has ignored the poor girl's training. They favor combat magic far more than anything else there. I think your court mage is old enough that he'd appreciate an apprentice, so perhaps that could be an option as well."

Taking the bottle of brandy and pouring himself a snifter, King August said, "We'll put that offer on the table for her, then. If she takes it, fine. If not, I'm sure we can find another reward for her that suits her fancy."

He paused, then took a drink before asking in a far more serious tone, "So, what news of the Stoneclutch?" The infamous dark organization, whose unofficial motto is 'We will squeeze a stone until it bleeds if we think there might be something valuable inside', had been the ruin of more than one kingdom in the last five hundred years. They preyed upon kingdoms in chaos, or near to it, seeing instability as a business opportunity.

Rilmgard was teetering on the edge of an uprising or perhaps even a full-scale revolution if things went poorly in the years to come, one that might spell the end of the kingdom. The nobility's mistreatment of the commonfolk for generations combined with its slow social and cultural progress left it far weaker than many other countries, and ripe for a group like Stoneclutch to take advantage of. The kingdom was certainly wealthy, due to an abundance of natural resources and eight labyrinths dotted throughout the country, which was likely the only reason the nation had not yet collapsed on itself.

The fact that information had arrived informing the king that the villainous group had its sights set on Rilmgard was keeping him up at night.

The royal spymaster's face wrinkled in a spectacular display of disgust, and no one can wrinkle their face quite like a disgusted dwarf. After a moment, he admitted, "I know they've got something in the works, but I have no idea what. Those bastards are more paranoid than I am, which is an accomplishment I would have claimed to be impossible before I set my sights on them. Of course, they've been around for centuries, and have agents in every kingdom, but what little information I've found strongly implies that they've set their sights on something here and that they plan to act soon."

"But I've found no sign of what they're planning or when. All I can say for certain right now is that it's unlikely to be anything related to the tournament: With that many nobles, mages, and your royal presence, the school will be filled with guards from every retinue, including your own personal guard. In short, the Academy will be the most heavily defended building in the kingdom come Monday. Unless they've gotten their hands on something absurdly powerful, there's little they could actually do during such an event. I've doubled the guard and sent both royal spies and assassins to monitor the entire campus, just in case. I doubt there's any cause for worry, but it's my job to worry regardless."

The king nodded in appreciation, then filled his glass and raised it in salute. "Good. I pay you to worry more, so I can worry less."