Throne of Steel

Chapter 2 - High Authority

Even after the Charr's ancestors burned down Ascalon during the Searing, they fought hard to keep the land. First, they still had to claim it from the surviving humans that hadn't fled, first under King Adelbern who fought the Charr to the very last man, including himself. Then, when they wiped out most of those, their last king Adelbern unleashed a powerful spell, forever cursing the land and binding the spirits of the deceased Ascalonians, causing their restless ghosts to ascend from the ground again and again in a never-ending pursuit to reclaim their homeland from their murderers and the descendants thereof.

The ghosts never vanished to this day. But beyond that, an Ascalonian formerly prisoner to the Charr called Gwen Thackeray, rallied an army called the Ebon Vanguard in fighting the Charr successfully enough to build and reinforce the city of Ebonhawke. And on top of the gostly Ascalonians all over the country and the living ones at Ebonhawke, the Charr also fought to rip the land from each other's hands, in wars between four armies that would later become known as the legions.

The war between the legions over Ascalon was a meatgrinder in which all four legions had to toss in large amounts of soldiers in an endless battle of attrition that lasted for centuries. But because one legion was able to field many more assaults than the others despite its losses, the other three saw themselves forced to pool their forces and fight against it together. So the Blood Legion and the Ash Legion all fought side by side with the Iron Legion, took orders from the Iron Legion's Imperator Smodur and operated from out of the Iron Legion's capital, the Black Citadel in Ascalon.

When the Commander next opened his eyes, he found himself right inside the heart of Ascalon, far away from its borders with any other country.

The lands of Ascalon were always a depressing sight to behold. The trees were sparse and all of them so scrawny one could barely call them trees. It lacked the green and blue of Kryta's vegetation, its clean bodies of water and its clear skies. The spillage of oil and gunpowder tainted its waters turning their overall shade to a dark grey. The smoke and other discharges from fires and wasteful forges blended into the clouds, completely covering the sky in them. Even outside the beaten paths along the roads, the ground's overall color ranged from grey-ish brown to cream yellow, as upon the layers and layers of composted grass that grew and died before, only little new plant life could emerge and even what little did, soon thereafter gave in to the fumes of poisonous gunpowder, the trampling of Charr paws and the Charr's general lack of care for their surroundings.

He and Rytlock stood just about a few hundred feet away from the ramp leading through the great wall separating the village of Smokestead and a few smaller structures immediately adjacent to the Citadel from the rest of the plains outside. Rytlock looked around, examined the roads, the walls of the nearby headquarters, the path down to the leftover ruins of some human noble's estate, destroyed and haunted by ghosts. And then he spelled out the same question the Commander had on his mind: "Where is everyone?"

There usually were multiple pairs of blood legion soldiers posted along the ramp leading through the wall, now there were none. There used to be squadrons training recruits in the use of mortars just outside the walls at this time of the day, none of those were present. There were supposed to be patrols frequently marching up and down the road from here to the reinforced outpost southeast. And even on the roads, no-one was to be seen.

Stepping onto the ramp that would see them all the way past the inner gates made clear to the Commander that the living conditions of the Charr would take a lot of getting used to in the days to come. The Black Citadel was a giant fortress, built onto a foundation carved out of the broken ruins of Rin, the capital city of Ascalon from back before the Charr burned it down. It was made entirely of disjointed plates of metal, flimsily bent, nailed and bolted together to make up something vaguely resembling habitable shelter. All of which was very rusty all the way through, a result of using barely at all refined metals and long-time exposure to the elements. Parts of the platform they walked on creaked under their steps and the uneven wear and tear of its surface expressed itself so much that the Commander could feel it through his shoes.

The village outside the citadel - built of metal like everything else - was all but abandoned. As they passed by the cantina, no-one was present in either of the two floors. The fires roasting meat for the coming days were long put out. Most of its smaller forges were turned off, a single Charr had one running in a one-man workshop in a corner, with two more guarding him with a greatsword and a rifle. Unsure what they would find if they actually entered the Citadel, the visitors decided to approach the three villagers first. The Commander stepped closer to the blacksmith. "What happened to this place?"

The villagers shrugged. "Nothing. Nothing new happened. Same as ever. That's exactly the problem."

Rytlock rolled his eyes and before the Commander could continue questioning the blacksmith, addressed the guard to the right, a fully dressed Blood Legionnaire. "I am Rytlock Brimstone, Tribune of the Blood Legion. And as Tribune, I order you to give me a report on major developments from one year ago until now!"

"Tribune Brimstone!" The legionnaire put down his sword. "I'm sorry, I had assumed you were with Tribune Goreblade."

"I stayed in Kryta after the treaty was nullified. The humans had a major regime change and I helped make it happen. So now I repeat: What happened since then?"

Now the legionnaire shrugged as well. "It's like he said, nothing happened. The legions marched all the way back to Ascalon. And ever since, radio silence. Since the Imperator's speech before our departure, he hasn't been seen outside the Core a single time. He's apparently giving out orders, but only through those new 'consultants' he hired."

That word sprung out to the Commander. "Consultants?"

"You'd best ask the other Tribunes about that. They made Goreblade pack his bags and threw him out of the Command Core. He's since put together a new office outdoors on the perimeter, just outside the Imperator's Core. Just march straight towards the Core and you'll run into him."

"Why is Tribune Goreblade setting up shop on the streets?"

"To show people that someone's doing stuff? I don't know, I can only guess. The Imperator is still holed up in the top floor of the Core. And ever since those consultants showed up, he's even more isolated. The silence is making people uncomfortable. People are getting a little stir-crazy." He beckoned for the two visitors to come closer. "You didn't hear this from any of us, but more and more Charr are feeling like Iron Legion is losing its spine. People can't talk about it because Tribune Desertgrave has her Ash Legion subordinates pick fights with anyone who does. And some of the ones that do, just vanish shortly afterwards. But that doesn't stop people from noticing it. You can see what that did to this village, the legions' ranks are thinning out because people are getting the sense that the Citadel's a sinking ship. It got so bad, Tribune Goreblade had many local outposts cleared and most production and drills moved into the Citadel."

"Is he expecting an attack?"

"There's only rumours as far as I know."

"What rumours?"

"Flame Legion. Word has it, they've recovered from the Pact's occupation and are gearing up for war again."

"So quickly? How?"

"I don't know. Talk to Goreblade. I'm sure he'll be happy to fill you in."

Rytlock sighed and covered his eyes. "He's probably right. Come on, Commander. The sooner we talk to Bhuer, the sooner we get to the bottom of this."

Even the much more well-guarded mustering grounds, the broad road leading to the bridges above most of the citadel, were of the same barely refined metal as the rest of the city. Giant cogwheels stacked on top of each other and held together with a dried tar made up its 'pavement'. The citadel was built within a hole they had dug into Rin. Their path led onto the perimeter loop, a set of wide metal bridges hanging over the Cantons, the many smaller districts dedicated to legions' lodging, training, the forging of equipment and large, wheeled machines of war. A plethora of catwalks, ramps and slanted platforms connected the elevated squares and roads to the Cantons.

The perimeter loop's eponymous centerpiece was a giant, ring-shaped platform circling around the even bigger Command Core, a huge spherical metal structure which served as the seat of the Tribunes and the Imperator himself. The centerpiece was what the Charr used in lieu of public squares. With merchants and staff from many factories running market stands to sell their goods to passer-bys. But now, many of the stands were gone and just as described by the Blood Legionnaire, a wide array of tables had been set up right outside the entrance to the Core, where a crowd of Charr talked to each other over maps and paper documents.

At the very center of them, in front of a metal chair with a back lean, stood Tribune Bhuer Goreblade, a grey Charr clad in very plain, dark platemail and with two wide and sharply curved horns akin to those of a bull. His eyes lit up seeing the two of them approach the tables. "Tribune Brimstone! It's good to see you. I was beginning to fear the worst."

Rytlock grumbled. "It takes a little more than humanity's worst to take me down."

"When you told me you were staying in Kryta you were acting strange. I had a feeling that you had reasons you couldn't talk about. Is there more to divulge now?"

"Too much to cover all of it right now. Long story short: Countess Anise went crazy, the whole Shining Blade went crazy, so the Seraph and the Separatists formed a joint army and took them down. Now they're in charge of Divinity's Reach."

Goreblade raised his eyebrows. "That's not good. How'd you make it out alive through all that?"

"I wasn't on the Shining Blade's side to begin with."

"Well this is becoming more and more wild."

Rytlock continued: "Me and other Charr helped them with the coup. For the time being, we're the only Charr allowed near Divinity's Reach."

"Understandable. I'm assuming that's what the human is here for."

"Among other things, yeah." Rytlock gestured towards the Commander. "This is the Commander of the Pact. He was on the frontlines throughout the fight against Zhaitan, same with the fight against Anise afterwards. Commander, this is Tribune Bhuer Goreblade."

The Commander navigated around the table and shook the Iron Legion Tribune's hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

Rytlock continued: "He can act as a diplomat of sorts. The situation isn't as simple as you think. Explaining it all will take a while."

"I'd bet. So you're with the Separatists now? You know those are usually on kill-on-sight terms with us, right?"

The Commander took this as his cue to chime in. "I don't think the Separatists plan on being as hostile to you as you think."

"Interesting. Nonetheless, I'm sure you understand if I put you under supervision until I have the full picture."

The Commander nodded. "Of course."

In the company of only two Iron Legionnaires, Rytlock and the Commander were led inside the giant steel sphere behind the tables. Up two sets of spiral ramps in the Command Core to the second floor. One of the minor things that stood out coming up here was that the steel iris covering the entrance to Smodur's seat was not guarded by Charr, but by three Sylvari in civilian office clothes. Beside the steel iris barring the way to the Imperator's office, a smaller cylindrical corridor on the side led to Goreblade's much smaller office. "Here we are. Now you can tell me everything. I trust these two to keep anything confidential under wraps."

So the Commander and Rytlock proceeded to tell him the entire story of the civil war within Kryta. To understand the human side of it, they struck out further than Goreblade first assumed and went all the way back to the treaty, the day where everything went wrong. They told him about Anise's plot to have every princed noble except her favorite abducted and killed, they told him about the trial and how they prepared for it, they told him about the allies they made leading up to the war, how they ultimately overthrew the Shining Blade and what compromises they made with the Separatists following their takeover.

The Tribune's first question at the end of it all was: "And they really didn't restrict you at all? You didn't have to stay outside the gates or within the upper bridges or anything?"

"As long as it's me, Nightblade and his warband, and all the other legionnaires that helped us, we're free to go wherever we want in Kryta."

Goreblade was left scratching his head. "That's not nearly as distrustful as I'd expected. You said you had help from the Renegades?"

"Not just that," the Commander added. "The new Count said their ties were 'deeper than we expect.'"

These revelations appeared to alarm the Tribune. "That's…prescient."

"Why?"

Goreblade sighed. "You gave me a full account of events on the Krytan side, it's only fair if I return the favor."

"We heard there's rumours of the Flame Legion gearing up. Is it true?"

"Yes. It's actually worse than the public knows. They're arming up at full speed, they're taking heads and claiming territory fast. They've already retaken the entire east coast of Fireheart Rise. I'm starting to get the feeling that killing Baelfire was a big mistake. His cub, Garadin Baelfire - formerly Garadin Cinderclaw - has assumed the name of his sire, taken charge of Flame Legion and he's a thousand times worse than his sire ever was."

Calling Gaheron's killing 'a mistake' was outrageous to Rytlock. "Gaheron Baelfire was a madman who tried to become a god by sacrificing Charr."

"What Garadin lacks in insanity, he makes up for with cruelty. And he is no less ambitious than his sire. He has all the grand vision of Gaheron but combined with the pragmatism needed to see it through."

"What do you mean?"

"He's allied himself with the Renegades. The Renegades are back with a vengeance, recruiting and training new insurgents every day. And he's gone and done what none of the high legions dared do before!"

The notion was as preposterous to Rytlock as it had been to Bhuer. "The Renegades run counter to what any of the legions stand for, including the Flame Legion. What drove him to make a decision like that?"

"I don't know what Garadin hopes to get out of it - or what made him think it was a good idea. And some of the intel our spies give us only opens up even more questions."

"Anything you can tell us?"

"Little reason not to. We first assumed that Garadin was the leader of one of the warring splinter groups of the Flame Legion and simply reunited the legion through conquest. But that's only half true. When he first arrived in northern Ascalon, he had no faction or splinter group to call his own. He just appeared out of nowhere with strange allies from other races and swiftly defeated and annexed one faction after the other, all while the rest of us were preoccupied with taking Orr from the Risen. Then they went on the defensive and only acted through small strike teams after that. That was until recently, some of his Renegade allies returned to Ascalon. Ever since, they've been forging weapons, they're conjuring elementals, they're fashioning new effigies, they're rallying troops, they prepared for war in a way that shows confidence and considering their successes so far, that confidence was well-founded."

"You said they're already on the march. How much time until they get here?"

"Depends on detours, troop movements, skirmishes - but if they went straight for the citadel, maybe six months? Nine at most."

Rytlock asked the question that should have been on everyone's mind: "Enemy armies are joining forces and marching upon us and we're here twiddling our thumbs, this is the time where an Imperator is supposed to show strength and presence the most! Where's Smodur in all of this?"

"Holed up in his office as usual. We think he knows about the situation, but no-one really knows. We can't get past the Sylvari. The Imperator gave them the authority to issue orders on his behalf and they're not letting anyone get past them."

Rytlock snarled and began storming out of Bhuer's quarters. "You watch me get past those Sylvari."

With the other two in tow, the Tribune marched up to the Sylvari until he was only two steps away from the closest one. "I need to speak to Imperator Smodur."

From most of them, he only got dismissive stares. "His High Authority, Imperator Smodur the Unflinching, is very busy and doesn't have time for the petty concerns of regular citizens."

"Listen here!" Rytlock went closer and buried his claw into the chest of a blue Sylvari that soon backed away from him slightly while maintaining his posture. "I am a Tribune of the Blood Legion. My 'concern' is a serious matter to Blood Legion as a whole, so in the name of Blood Legion, stand aside and open the door!"

The Sylvari grabbed the Charr's hand and pushed it away. He responded with an aloofness in his tone and expression all too familiar to the Commander from the Shining Blade and the Sylvari 'expert' they brought in during the trial. "Like I said, regular citizens." With some more force, two other Sylvari pushed him away. "Now, please return to your post. We have important work to do."

"What work?" he snapped at him. "You're not even doing anything, you're just standing there."

"And you're in a position to make this inference - why exactly? Are you an expert on modern office practise, certified by the highest authority of Lion's Arch - hm? No? Didn't think so. A display of pure ignorance, you should be ashamed of yourself. Do not presume to comment on how we go about our work. Now scuttle along, before we have the guards drag you out."

And as if on cue, several Iron Legion guards came closer and took position next to the Sylvari at the door. Rytlock and the Commander began to understand why Goreblade was setting up shop outside the Core.