The departure from Cloud-Rest took place under the heavy, gray cloak of an alpine noon.
At twelve o’clock, the wind along the western low roof wall had turned biting cold, blowing flakes of early winter sleet across the scorched launch terrace. The castle was quiet now. The forty militiamen stood in formation along the courtyard wall, their weapons resting across their chests, their faces solemn. They watched the preparations for departure.
On the firing terrace, Master Kroll and Captain Vane stood beside the massive bronze winch collar of the bedrock shaft.
Ren Vale stood before them. His traveling cloak cinched was tight around his woolen coat, his waterproof leather satchel secured across his chest. He held a thick roll of parchment bearing the new town charter of Mount Khor-Vann. He was sealed with fresh red wax.
“Captain Vane,” Ren said, his voice firm and steady. “By the power vested in the Municipal Land Office, I hereby transfer military and office command of Cloud-Rest castle to you and Master Kroll. The bedrock rights are active. The salvage from the Vitreous Giant beast in the canyon below belongs entirely to the guard post and the village leagues. Defend the stone until our return.”
