A stack of fresh intelligence scrolls slammed against Grandmaster Volkov’s polished obsidian desk at noon on Day 34.
The sound cracked through the upper command solar of the Seventh Spire like dry timber snapping.
Volkov paced across the thick crimson carpet, his gray eyebrows drawn into a sharp knot.
“Explain this to me,” Volkov demanded, pointing a trembling finger at the parchment reports. “Give me one rational explanation.”
Across the desk stood Second Tower Chief Enforcer Grau.
Grau was a massive brute clad in dark iron plates. A spiked two-handed war-club hung across his back. His weathered jaw carried three jagged scars.
“Grandmaster Kaelor paid a thousand spirit stones to rent that Seventh Spire furnace boy right before his cauldron exploded,” Grau rumbled. “And yesterday, Fifth Spire Grandmaster Vorin wept in their foyer, gave five hundred spirit stones to Elder Mordan, and vowed to kill anyone making noise nearby.”
Volkov gripped his desk, his knuckles white.
