During the day the city of Eisenrahm is a bustling center of commerce, where people from all over come to trade exotic merchandise. Some, sell fanciful items brought back from the upper levels of Draghiem, while others bring luxurious items from far away nations. However, during the night Eisenrahm is much like any other city. Its inhabitants journey home, eager for dinner and a good night’s rest. A few may venture out into the night to make memories or, more often than not, mistakes.

After just a few hours of sunset the city is filled with sleeping citizens, not a light to be seen, save for the lamp posts that dot the sides of the roads. However, there is one building which burns bright well into the night. It is a tall building, towards the center of town which rises up as if it rests upon a large hill, full of windows which still burn bright even though all others around it have long since fallen dark.

The regulatory building for the assault guild often finds itself full of life all night as those in charge of sustaining the guild work, often straight into the morning. Behind every lit window is a man or woman, toiling away with one matter or another. One such window belongs to a man not entirely unlike the rest, or so he would like to think. Afterall, they were all here doing the same work weren’t they? Even if his work happened to envelope a bit more than the others working well into the night. His work was never finished, and never would be. Not until the day he chose another to take his place. And often his work would leave him haggard and in foul spirits for he much preferred simple action rather than the intricate, and often times political, nature of his work.

Tonight was no different, as he read through one report after another. As this greedy merchant or that rich aristocrat, or any other of a number of entitled fools, was insulted or offended by some poor bastard probably just trying to do his job. Reports like these flooded his office. Some were formal complaints made by those who hired members of the guild for protection in the Tower, while others were from prominent members of the city that were rubbed the wrong way by someone in the guild.

Oh how I hate aristocrats. You’d think that with all the money they’ll ever need that they wouldn’t have so much to complain about. He thought, as he removed his half-moon glasses and rubbed his aching eyes. How long has it been since I last took a break? Damn, it’s already dark outside? He glanced out the window, trying to determine how late into the night it was. Perhaps if I hurry, I might still be able to sleep in my own bed tonight. The thought of enjoying a few hours respite in the comfort of his own bed gave the aging man the energy needed to continue his work.

As he drudged on, determined to earn a good night’s rest, he heard a faint knock on his door.

“It’s open!” he shouted, not bothering to look up.

Across the room from where the man sat at his desk, there was a set of large double doors, ornately carved with large brass handles. At the sound of the man’s voice, one of the large doors opened silently on well oiled hinges. A young woman, with waist-long black hair tied neatly into a ponytail and with sharp eyes behind simple square rimless glasses, stepped through the door.

She wore something of a uniform, consisting of a predominantly red jacket of a double-button fashion with patches of brown leather on the elbows and shoulders. Her trousers were simple. Mostly brown cloth, with a touch of red on the outside of the thighs, and leather knee pads sewn straight into the fabric, much like the jacket. On her feet were leather boots, the tops coming up to her shins, with her trousers tucked neatly within.

She was surprised when she saw the old man. His graying hair was disheveled, and his clothes seemed out of sorts. He had ink smudges on his face and hands, and he was obviously weary. He looked well into his sixties, with the all the lines permanently worn into his face. But she wasn’t fooled. She knew the man to barely be in his fifties. She remembered when he had passed that milestone, a few years back. Working himself to the bone again, she thought as she felt a pang of sorrow, At least his beard is well kept. The world could be burning down around us and he’d still keep that thing trimmed.

“If you’ve brought me more complaints just set them on the stack over there,” he said as he gestured towards an end-table with a hefty stack of papers already upon it.

“Actually, I’d say this is just a tad bit more important than some upset lord or lady.” Upon hearing the seriousness of her voice the man looked up from his paperwork to see what she was holding.

In both hands she clutched a large journal, made of thick leather, clearly aged and well-worn. It was something similar to the journal he had used in his younger days as a member of the guild’s front line.

“What do you have there Elena?” He spoke with genuine curiosity, his interest having been piqued.

“Sir, this is a report from one of our members, Garter Quin, who has recently returned from an eight month trip into Draghiem.” She moved closer and placed the journal on the large oak desk that filled a majority of that side of the room.

“Hmmm, I don’t think I know him. Did they make it back alright?” As he spoke he grabbed the journal and brought it in front of him.

“Yes sir. He led one of the parties that was part of the 32 man team. The one that was under orders to protect a merchant caravan.”

“Ah yes, I remember the contract. So, tell me, what’s so important about this report? You’ve got my curiosity all fired up.” He leaned back in his chair and put his hands top of the journal and threaded his fingers, waiting for her response.

“Well sir, there was….an incident. While the group made camp on the 37th floor Garter wandered off on his own. He was involved in a scuffle with a Glacier Lion, which he survived, however during the fight it seems that he crashed through a section of the Tower’s inner wall, where it and the wall of the labyrinth met.” She paused, as if not certain how to explain what happened next. “On the other side of the wall, Garter found what he describes as “another section of wall lined with what appeared to be varying sizes of gears.””

The old man leans forward, listening intently as she speaks. As far he knows, nothing like this has ever happened before.

“Garter also noted that several of these gears seemed to have been broken during his confrontation with the lion, and that if the contraption had been working before, it wasn’t after the events of the fight.”

“Hmmm” The old man was staring into nothing, trying his best to recall if any such room or device has ever been seen in the Tower. “When did all of this take place, exactly?”

“A little more than five months have passed since the events he described.”

“Five months?!” He was shocked by that last statement. Something like this should have been brought to his attention much sooner. “Why wasn’t I notified of this the moment we heard?!”

“The fact is sir, we’ve only just found out about it. They only returned yesterday. Garter made a special report just for this event, separate from his ordinary review. However, we don’t exactly have a system in place for these kinds of reports. Not for floors that have already been well documented. If this had been found on a floor higher up, where less is known, then you would have gotten it much sooner, but because this is such a….unique event it had passed through several different hands before I got wind of it. We’re lucky it didn’t fall through the cracks entirely.”

“Damn it all. What took so long for them to return?”

“It seems those in charge of the caravan wouldn’t allow it. Since this was a civilian contract they had ultimate say in the matter. In Garter’s report he lays out the details of what transpired between the guild members and the merchants. Again, we have no protocol set forth for this kind of contingent.”

“Damn greedy merchants. All they cared about was their gold.” He again removed his glasses and began rubbing the soreness from his eyes.

“Sir, we need systems in place to handle events such as this. Luckily it seems it was rather trivial, this time. Next time we might all be dead five months after the fact.”

“You have a point, though it will take months to convince the others to act. Ironically, if it had been something more severe I might be able to do something about it.” Oh how I hate politics.

“You are the Guildmaster aren’t you? Wouldn’t a duty such as this fall within your jurisdiction?” She was clearly upset by this situation, as evidenced by the way she tossed her arms around, before she finally crossed them and stood there, tapping her foot.

“I may be Guildmaster, but I am only in charge of those on the front lines. Support staff, like what you’re suggesting, isn’t up to me. That’s Rigot’s jurisdiction. And as far as creating new guidelines to impose on contract holders, that would have to be done by Ingrid. She’s the only one the fool merchants will talk to.” The pain had changed now to include a dull headache. So much for getting to sleep in my own bed tonight.

“That may be, but something must be done.” Elena was determined to have the last word, and the Guildmaster was happy to let her have it. There was a long pause while they both sat in silence, pondering all that had been said.

“You said that it was trivial. Has there been no change in Dragiem?” The Guildmaster found it hard to believe that it was truly nothing.

“No other reports from the other floors.” She paused as she thought about everything that had been contained is Garter’s report, as well as all the others that flood through their offices. “Although….Garter’s report, as well as a few others, have mentioned that floor 38’s labyrinth is missing it’s archfiend.”

Each floor in Draghiem has a labyrinth, which leads to the floor above, and each labyrinth is patrolled by an archfiend, a monster with incredible strength that far surpasses the power of the other creatures on that floor, as well as other powerful monsters that are unique to that floor’s labyrinth.

“Well now, that is unusual, isn’t it.” Again they sat in silence, until, “and there has been no other mention of any changes?”

“None besides the missing archfiend. And no other room like the one described in Garter’s report has been discovered. Although, that doesn’t mean much. The room from the report was hidden behind a wall, and as far as I know no one has ever before been able to breach one of Draghiem’s walls.”

It was true. Even King Loqesh hadn’t been able to break any part of Draghiem. Half the capital was even built on top of the first floor’s labyrinth, as they couldn’t break the walls and needed the space. No one has ever been able to destroy a part of Draghiem. Something must have weakened it. But what? Nearly 300 years have passed since the thing was rizen. Maybe it’s just getting old? He very much doubted that. No one has ever been able to understand the magic used to create the Towers. The Guildmaster found it hard to believe that simple age could have such an effect.

“I’ll read over the report. Tomorrow, send for Garter Quin. I want to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. And, after you’ve done that, order an emergency meeting of the guild Heads. I want Ingrid and Rigot in my office tomorrow before noon.” The guildmaster rubbed his hands together, thinking about what he needed to get done before that meeting. “Oh, and get me a drink.” Elena consented and turned to leave the room. “And Elena, make it something strong”