The steel door of the command post shuddered from a heavy blow outside.
The heavy steel plate gave way, crashing inward against the obsidian wall and sending shards of black stone flying. Four Iron Empire soldiers stormed the room, swords drawn, their eyes scanning every inch of the cramped space.
Empty.
The stone table remained in place, its relief map gouged at one corner. Splinters of a shattered wooden chair littered the floor. The oil lamp had been snuffed out, its glass shards scattered among the wooden debris. Deep reddish-purple runes along the walls pulsed sluggishly, utterly indifferent to the intruders.
Not a soul in sight. One of the soldiers kicked the heavy stone table, as if hoping to flush out someone cowering behind it. Nothing.
Only seconds earlier, Rianor had already slipped into the narrow passage behind the walls.
