“Ah, Fort Heydeck.”

Katarina announced their arrival with a smile, dismounting her horse and approaching the run-down fortress.

“You sure? They decommissioned-”

“I'm aware,” the sorceress cut him off, motioning for the rest of the troop to dismount as she examined the buildings exterior.

“I thought we were going to Tarlone-”

“No, we're where we need to be,” she sighed, “Have your men secure the perimeter. I don't want any unwelcome guests interrupting our search.”

“Here, Peter- hold the horses-” Klober said, handing Storm's reins to the young soldier as he gestured for his men's attention.

“Jaubert, take Remy and watch the road. The rest of you spread out, keep watch. If there's a breach-.”

“It shouldn't be quite that serious,” Katarina chuckled, turning toward Jaubert with a small smirk, “We shouldn't be long. If there are problems, just see I am notified.”

But what if there were others? Carrion feeders-

The officer said nothing as he drew his carbine, following in the sorceress's footsteps as she led the way through the decaying gates.

Fort Heydeck had never been a fortress of significance, a wooden palisade surrounding a few stone barracks would have hardly constituted a fort in Astana. As a supplement to Luttenia's small navy, and a mustering point for the local guards though, it had no doubt once served its purpose well enough.

“There used to be a castle here. Castle Heydeck,” Katarina said loudly, leading him toward the largest of the surviving structures, “Used to. Was a prison, Lord Kremmholz was held there at one point.”

“Lord who?”

“Never mind,” the witch sighed in faux exasperation, “The point is there's a dungeon underneath there. Or there should be. And if Eris had it right. That's where he set up his personal lab.”

“Madam- are you sure it's wise-”

“To trust Eris?” Katarina raised an eyebrow, “I trust her more than-”

She hesitated for a moment, thinking. It seemed strange to Klober, he couldn't think of a single time he'd seen the witch hesitate on any matter.

“Honestly Henri,” she continued, addressing him by his first name, “I trust her more than anyone save perhaps young Met. I pay her for it, and she's never let me down.”

The officer bit his tongue to stop himself from retorting at that extolling of mercenary virtue.

“Don't take it as a slight,” the woman laughed, as if reading his mind all too clearly, “You seem candid enough. But I am in no position to judge.”

“No offense taken,” he lied quietly, turning away to examine the dilapidated walls surrounding the fort.

“I have her loyalty, and she has mine,” the witch said, “She has proven herself a most valuable asset.”

Somehow, despite the woman's outward positivity, Klober sensed that, if the situation called for it, that asset was disposable. They were all disposable to the sorceress. Disposable and replaceable. He tried not to think of that fact too much.

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“Strange, how the door's kept in such good shape, isn't it?” Katarina said suddenly, shifting the focus to the structure before them, “Almost like somebody was living here.” The sarcasm in her voice made the man smile somewhat, though he remained wary of what they might find.

“And with a rune-sealed lock no less, how fascinating,” she chuckled, “A Seipher seal. Modern. Expensive. Orrin really never failed to overpay.”

With a flick of her wrist, he could hear the clicking and whirring of metal machinery beyond the gate, making him shift in nervous discomfort.

Katarina showed no such hesitation, pushing the door open soundlessly to allow the light inside, revealing an unremarkable room more reminiscent of an infantry recruiter's office than anything. With the soft click of boots on wood, the witch strode through, removing her hat as she glanced around herself.

The dragoon hesitated, unsure if he was expected to follow. If it was even appropriate. This was a dead man's residence after all. And a deceased man of note at that.

“Madam- Would you like me to follow?” he asked slowly, feeling like an awkward schoolboy as he voiced his concern.

“That would be best. Two pairs of eyes might make this go by quicker,” she said, “Just don't touch anything.” For a brief moment, her finger rested against her chin, eyes glittering as some further consideration crossed her mind, “And whatever we find. Whatever you see down there. If there are- questionable objects- Not a word.”

Her tone had taken a sudden, severe note. One that sent a shudder down his spine.

“Not with your men. Not with the others. Certainly none of your superiors,” the witch said the words with a cold clarity that made the sinking pit of suspicion in his gut grow deeper, “If you do. I will kill you. Let me make that brutally clear.”

“Don't worry. It will all be found in due time,” she said with a laugh, all severity vanishing as if it had never been, “There are other nosy bastards to snoop around and report it. I just don't want any problems.”

“Understood.”

Klober nodded mechanically, incredibly uncertain about the purpose of his task here as he stepped through the doorway.

“We are looking for a leather-bound tome. Hydra leather I believe, the idiot always had a penchant for the overpriced, and he needed the water-proof binding. It will probably be gray or dark green.”

“I understand,” the officer said, walking gingerly across the creaking floorboards.

“Oh come now, no need for paranoia. There's nobody else here,” Katarina grimaced, “If there are any more defenses, I am not sensing them. And mundane defenses seem quite outside Orrin's specialty.”

“Do all wizards have laboratories?”

“Offices, houses, some laboratories,” the woman shrugged, “Depends. We're not some monolith. That idiot Alfreid doesn't even have a residence, just travels around all the time, keeps his things in a wagon.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” she grimaced, flicking through a packed bookcase, glossing over the books present with an expert eye.

If Klober had to guess, those tomes alone were worth more than his year's pay. Years pay and officers stipend.

On second thought. A lifetime's pay.

He sighed as he tried to make sense of the seemingly nonsensical runes and engravings decorating some of the volumes.

“Don't even think about it,” Katarina said, “Don't touch anything.”

“Huh? I wasn't-”

“Doesn't matter. Don't.”

Swallowing nervously, he followed her further, reaching a more expansive section of the structure, decorated much in the same way an expensive apartment in Brachsenburg or Toulan would be.

Ornate heraldry and weaponry decked the walls, exotic carpeting and expensive looking furnishing fleshing out the room's welcoming appearance.

It was something Katarina ignored entirely, sweeping past the display as something in the room adjacent caught her eye.

“Follow me, the cellar entrance is in this room,” she muttered quietly.

“Cellar? I thought-”

“That's what they used the dungeon for, probably. Storage and utility. The fort had no use as a prison.”

Klober didn't bother arguing. There was no point, and it did seem Katarina knew exactly what she was looking for. As it was he had to do his best to keep pace with the woman, barely catching a moment to glance jealously at the decorations before he had to rush down the flagstone steps in the witch's wake.

“Tread carefully.”

As if he needed the reminder. At least Katarina had lit the lamps.

Not that the oil lamps did much, their dull light casting their bale glow on the stone walls as the pair descended further, the gnawing pit in the officer's gut growing further and further with every step.

“There's nothing to be worried about. Not for our sake at any rate. Just be careful.”

Ah, how helpful. He thought to himself as they reached the basement floor. How the hell are you so quick?

Katarina somehow stayed just out of sight, cutting her way through the laboratory as if a woman possessed.

For his part, Klober tried to move cautiously, entering the new room with slow purpose as if worried ambush awaited around every corner.

The laboratory certainly lived up to the name. Beakers, flasks, and pipettes of all forms dotted the tables and workbenches, some still containing liquids Klober could not identify.

There was still an old rack offset to the side of the room. Stained and worn from ancient use. Why Orrin hadn't simply rid himself of the thing he was not sure.

The walls were lined from ceiling to floor with shelves and containers housing all manner of items and ingredients. Roots and herbs, potions and elixirs all arrayed neatly with appropriate labels to differentiate them. Even Orrin couldn't keep track of it all. Somehow, the thought made Klober smile a little, a gesture swiftly wiped from his features as he made sense of the full display.

Skulls. Some animal. Some human.

Human. And not all were adult. Some small. Others seemed nearly-human, the only difference in their large eye-sockets and sharp, jagged teeth. A sinister sight indeed.

A hiss escaped Klober's lips as his eyes slid further to examine the glass jars a little closer, momentarily distracted by morbid curiosity. Organs floated in embalming fluid. As did some limbs. And a complete head of a man whose flesh still bore the marks of pox and disease.

The officer swallowed. Feeling sickened and ill. He wanted to leave.

Immediately.

It was only the creak of an opening door that shook him from his silent contemplation. The witch was moving, sweeping through the dungeon laboratory with seemingly no concern for the disturbing sights arrayed around them. Suppressing the nauseous feeling within, he followed after her, intent on finishing the task set before them.

“What were you doing? What were you doing?” Katarina's voice petered out as she entered a sealed-off cell, separated from the rest of the laboratory by a simple wooden door.

“Orrin, you really-,” The sorceress stood rigid, the slow twinge of disbelief creeping into her voice, as she took a step back in shock.

“Oh no. Oh no.”

Words of consternation he would not have expected to come out of Katarina Romme's lips. Her fingers clenched at empty air as she gazed at something Klober could not see.

“What the hell- What the hell have you done?”