Orwin nodded to the people, old and new, as he headed upwards to the newly dubbed ‘Watch-room’ to relieve Mons and Maia from Mirror-watching duty. The mood of the Spire had rebounded a bit after new arrivals started trickling in - a couple of wizards and their retinues, a pair of hedge witches, a handful of wandering mages and barely gifted, and even a renegade Paladin that was being interrogated by Master Garner and his two habitual advisers, Lowa and Chief. That must be a really interesting story as, as far as Orwin knew, the Order of Kalidor had positioned itself against the wizard, taking part in the Purge and bringing down a couple of Towers by itself already. Zealots were always terrifying opponents, as he well knew.

He still couldn’t wrap his head around the warped interior design of the Spire - nothing was as it seemed, and he would be perpetually lost if he couldn’t bother the Spire’s resident evil spirit for the way to his duties. The thing made his skin crawl, but at least it wasn’t an imminent danger like the thing that someone had locked up in the Dungeon , and then decided to thoew away the key. The warrior’s claustrophobia screamed just at the thought of passing through whatever that creature had experienced. For how long had that thing remained there, forgotten?

The warrior had to stop climbing the stairs for a moment when he saw the bizarre scene. “What the actual hell?” he said, mystified at what was going on. He had noticed that Master Garner’s majordomo was a slave-driver, anyone could realize that if they took a moment to watch his staff efficient work, with no wasted movements or lazing about. Still… This? The aggressive Giant drone that had been knocking at the door had been a terrifying opponent to fight since a single good strike of his could have killed a warrior. Now, its brother Golem was hunched, dusting off the walls with a ridiculously undersized feather-duster in its huge hands. Worse, someone had decided to tie a maid’s headpiece on the top of its head. He was expecting weirdness when Chief invited him to work for a wizard, but not this much. Did the wizards influence people around them to have a weird behavior? That would explain a lot of things on his opinion.

Breaking free of his light thoughts, he decided he should get back to the situation they were currently in, which was a lot darker, unfortunately. He did have a lot of experience in dire situations, though, many of the soldiers who fought in the Atalaïas would find themselves right at home at the siege he was going to pass, he expected. Only it would be mostly waves of men and steel, rather than creatures and magic. And the situation might end positively for a change - which would never happen back at the deadly Watchtowers of the Sea, locked in a perennial struggle due to the Red Tide phenomenon.

The stairs passed through the 3rd floor - or at least what he believed it to be - and there, the warrior found an argument to be taking place, two female practitioners arguing, Valena and Balmia, the green-haired Druid. That were two reasons to avoid getting involved in his opinion, and so he tried to keep ascending, but it wasn’t to be.

“Hey, Orwin!” Valena, who had rode and fought with him on the way here, called him. “Give me a hand here.”

Scratching his head, his attempt to escape foiled, he said, “What’s the matter?”

“She wants to leave the Spire now, after everything that’s happened!”

“Of course I do, Valena,” Balmia answered, exasperated. “You’ve seen it, we have rites to perform for the passing of the brothers. And then, vengeance.”

Wincing at the reaction he expected, Orwin agreed, “She’s right, Valena. She needs to go to her Commune, her people, I think.”

“What?! But it’s dangerous! The Lotharians are nearly here!”

“I know, but they are Druids, Valena. If they don’t want to be found in their woods, no one will.”

“That’s right,” agreed the druid, but Orwin received a wrathful look from his friend, and decided to try and even things out.

“Say, Balmia, I think the hunters were gearing up to go out again, why don’t you take the two of them with you for her peace of mind?”

“Fine! But I’m going now!”

“Ok… I’ll accompany you to the door, at least,” accepted the necromancer. She gave Orwin an uncertain glare, but then hurried after her quickly descending friend.

“That went well…” He grumbled before resuming his way up.

Reaching the Watch-room, he knocked on the locked door, and Mons unbarred and opened it, swearing at the weight and at the bad state of repair of the hinges, before greeting him, “Hey, old fart.”

“Hey, kids, anything interesting going on?” He said, flicking Mons’ forehead painfully.

Maia looked up from the chair she was sitting on and took her feet off the desk. “There were a few brief clashes, but it looks like Lamart’s men are exhausted. They’re retreating away from us, to gods know where. The Druids haven’t appeared again, I think they might be blocking our scrying, actually.”

“Tell me the Lotharians decided to fuck off to their boring city,” He jested.

“Nope, they’re closer than ever. Still coming. Everything is written in the report,” She replied, showing him a worn notebook.

“She didn’t let me write, Orwin,” Mons pouted ridiculously.

“That’s because no one can decipher your scrawls, Mons. I swear I taught you better than that.”

“No, you didn’t-”,”Yes, you did,”, the brothers contradicted themselves, and he shook his head.

“Well, then, piss off, kids,” Orwin said, motioning them out. Relieved of duty, Maia rose, but the twins simultaneously turned back to the scrying mirror before departing. They could do some eery shit like that from time to time, but Orwin got used to it since he took them under his wing at their second battle at the Atalaïas.

“It’s a shame that we cleared that golem field,” murmured Maia as the trio watched some Lotharians scout moving through the woods.

“I think that there are more Golems out there than you’re imagining, Maia. They are in a wide radius around the Spire, we just cut through a straight path.”

“That freaking specter is spooky,” commented Mons.

“Yeah, so maybe you should stop taunting him? Anyway, Master Garner will try to take back control of the Golems so we can prepare a nasty defense. After he finishes interrogating the paladin that claims to have defected from the Order of Kalidor.”

“Maybe we could conceal them among the golems we destroyed?” suggested Maia.

“Oh, that’s sneaky, I like it,” her brother beamed with approval.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea, Maia. Let’s suggest it when we get the ‘war council’ going.”

***

After the siblings were relieved, they went to see someone they had been neglecting for a while because of the constantly pressing matters they had to attend to. They went to see Rajpul, who was nearly completely healed from the concussion that had scrambled his wires for the last few days. They still didn’t know a lot about the mysterious rogue who they had met with several free mounts when they were in dire need of them, but fighting side to side created bonds surprisingly fast between warriors. The man hadn’t needed to intervene on their behalf, but he’d opted to do so repeatedly, and had gotten hurt when fighting the golems.

“Hey-a, stranger,” called out Mons as they reached one wide balcony up high in the Spire, full of plants grown wild during the long time without any kind of supervision. The page that had helped the rogue to climb the stairs was actually trying to trim the damned plants with a machete, though he was having a hell of a time. Rajpul, sitting on a small stool, turned his head and smiled a bit at them, though it was far from enthusiastic. Mons didn’t remember him truly smiling anywhere besides the battles they had faced.

“Decided to check on the invalid, did you, charitable souls?” Rajpul replied.

“Yeah, we heard you were looking like shit, so we wanted to ask if we should start digging your grave already,” riposted Maia.

“So nice of you,” the rogue replied sarcastically.

“That’s what friends are for!” added Mons cheerfully. A dark looked passed through Rajpul’s face, and Maia elbowed her brother for his faux pas. Though it was not like he could have known it, right?

“Sorry about him, he’s an idiot,” She said, scowling at her brother.

“No problem…”

Trying to change the subject, Mons began, “Say, Raj, happy you joined our band? Living the good life, with pretty maids looking after you just because you’re clumsy and were whacked in the head?”

Rajpul snorted at the nickname and the ribbing. “Yeah, we go to the nicest places. An abandoned tower inhabited by an evil spirit and ready to be besieged. What a nice vacation.”

“Regretting it already?” asked Maia.

“No, actually…”

“Do you want us to take you to your horses, Raj? You must love them, having so many,” said Mons.

“Nah, I’m sure that the majordomo’s people are looking after him. The man’s scarily competent.”

“We’ve fought together, Rajpul, and we’ll do it again it seems, but we barely know you,” began Maia.

“So we wanted to get to know you better, Raj,” completed Mons, producing a bottle of rum. “Straight from the Atalaïas,” He promised.

“That’s… nice of you,” he replied, accepting the bottle, breaking its seal and taking a swig. It went down his throat burning, and he felt like a mule had kicked his chest afterward. After coughing to the siblings’ smile, he said, “Why the hell would you drink that?”

“Reminds us of the good old days,” Maia said, spitting to the side and taking a drink of the foul alcohol that Rajpul passed to her.

“You’re clearly not from around these parts, Raj. What can you tell us about your past that you won’t have to cut our throats later for?”

Rajpul chucked, and began, “Well, I come from a land close to Savlan…”.

The trio started trading stories, and later even Valena showed up, having wished farewell to her Druid friend. The group was nearly complete, missing only Orwin, but they talked and laughed like they hadn’t done for a few days, sharing old tales.

***

“Tell us, paladin, what are you doing here?” said Garner.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to storm this Spire, son of Kalidor?” added Lowa, looking at the grizzled man sternly.

“Master Garner, Ms. Lowa, I still believe the creed of my people. Unlimited magic brings unlimited ruination to everything it touches. It has happened to Kalidor, and many others before and after our Empire’s time. But there’s something wrong with my Order…”

“What do you mean, Sir Eisenwill?” asked Chief, positioned behind the paladin, at his blind spot. Though they were willing to hear the man out, they would never do so without taking precautions. The man sat facing the two practitioners, a table between them, and the avowed warrior stood some distance behind him, a heavy crossbow cocked and pointed at his back.

“It’s true that the Wizardly Order is powerful, but I don’t believe you’ve reached nowhere near the level of magical corruption that would be required to declare the forced Extinction.”

Garner snorted at that, it was funny how fanatics could say such a thing with a straight face. But although the man was a fanatic, he seemed honest and straightforward, maybe there was even a shred of common sense in him. It was not everyday that you met a renegade of the Order of Kalidor, their zealotry was infamous. It was true, though, that their paladins did a lot of good deeds when they weren’t trying to extinguish one group of mages or other. That was why they had popular support throughout the Realm. Both Garner and Lowa had actually worked with Lance Eisenwill before.

“To align our noble Order with this political purge started by the Lotharians… It goes against the heart of my creed. The Order of Kalidor should never let itself be guided by such interests, it should only safeguard civilization against another Ruination like our forebearers experienced. That was our vow.”

“We want to trust you, Lance. We actually like you, but you can imagine why it’s hard, right?” said Lowa.

“I do, miss, I do. Still, I’m here to sworn my sword at your service even in the face of my brothers in arms and faith.”

“We will accept it then, Lance - provisionally,” said Garner. “You’ll have to be watched until you’ve truly proven yourself to us, okay?”

“That’s acceptable, Master Garner. And there’s something all of you should know…”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“The Order of Kalidor helped to build the Spires. I have a nagging suspicion that they know secrets you might not about it. This will be a terrifyingly hard siege, mages.”

The duo frowned their foreheads, and exchanged a worried glance.

“We’ll see what we can extract from the Guardian,” replied Garner.

“Have you had the displeasure of meeting it yet, Lance?” asked Lowa.

“No, ma’am.”

“I think he’s the kind of monster your Order should be truly worried about,” remarked Chief, who did not let his guard down, even if though he trusted the earnest paladin.

“You can follow us then, Lance. We’ll round up some golems.”

The man looked at the suggestion askance, but rose from his seat with them even so. He had to fight with some of the golems before Garner had rode out to meet him, and the paladin couldn’t say he had liked the creatures. Dangerous creation, that smelled of corruption. The Guardian was truly a dangerous being.

Passing next to the renegade, the wizard opened the door and said, “Let’s go, the lotharians aren’t far now, and we still have to have our war council later.”

Together, the foursome departed the Spire to do their task. The Guardian silently seethed at the new arrival. The Order of Kalidor were formidable opponents, and some of the main people responsible for his current state of imprisonment. The man’s arrival didn’t help any of his many plans, and neither would his comrades’ upcoming siege.