Flames licked all around them as black smoke curled various craters. The group looked disheveled, covered in both blood and ash.
There were only a dozen left out of the hundreds that had started the journey.
"We–we can't go on!" A heavily wounded young man began to scream but no one paid him any attention. They were all looking up at the floating people on top of 3 large platforms.
They were not in pristine condition but they were in far better shape than those on the ground.
They had dark green robes lined in black with the symbol of a lightning bolt striking a tower. They were the elite mercenary band, Broken Tower. Supposedly they had once been part of an imperial power but it had collapsed from treachery and total extinction of their leaders.
Few records of reliable nature were left to be certain but their abilities were not in doubt at all. Escort duty to assassination, they would do it all if someone had enough to pay.
