A few hours before,
There was a sombre mood in the Upper Ring. The Royal Houses flew their crests at half mast, as a sign of mourning for the passing of one of their own. The Iron Guards were out in full force as a show of strength.
Lady Valara of House Goldvein stood on the balcony of her spire, a crystal goblet of chilled nectar in her hand. From her viewpoint, the Lower Ring was just a smudge of shadow at the base of the mountain.
But tonight, the shadow was glowing.
Tiny pinpricks of orange light flickered in the depths of the Sump. To an uneducated eye, they might have looked like fireflies. Valara knew better.
"It burns quite brightly, doesn't it?" she murmured, taking a delicate sip of her wine.
"Yes, My Lady. The Captain has arrived. Shall I ask him to wait?" asked an impeccably dressed gnome servant.
"Right on time. Show him in Hedish."
Captain Varn marched in with an air of urgency. His eyes scanned the room, looking for unknown threats, and then faces the elegant lady of house. He clears his throat.
"The lockdown is absolute, My Lady," his heavy voice rumbled.
Valara took a seat on an ornate divan, encased in decadent gold leaf. She motioned to the Captain to continue his report. Captain Varn removed his helmet, revealing a face scarred by battle and slick with sweat. He looked out of place amidst the silk and marble of her gilded halls, like a weapon of war brought into an art gallery.
"The Iron Guards have been mobilised as per your orders, My Lady. No one moves without my word and all access to the Sump is under our control."
"You have done well, Captain," Valara said, gesturing to the view. "The city is paralyzed. The Council is terrified. By morning, they will vote to grant House Goldvein the security contract for the entire Lower Ring."
Varn didn't smile. He shifted his weight, his armor clinking softly. He looked troubled.
"There is... a complication, My Lady."
Valara's eyes narrowed slightly. "I dislike complications, Captain. The Prince is dead. The blame is placed. What is the issue?"
"The constables," Varn said, stepping forward. "The human tracker and the dwarf. Why did you send them?"
Valara paused, the glass halfway to her lips. She lowered it slowly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The Watchmen," Varn clarified, looking confused. "Dispatch sent a priority order to the crime scene. They arrived minutes before my cordon was fully set. I assumed... I assumed this was part of your plan. That you wanted a human witness to validate the scene, or perhaps a scapegoat to kill later."
Valara turned fully around, her face hardening into a mask of cold stone.
"I gave no such order," she said softly. "My instructions were clear. The Iron Guard finds the body. The Iron Guard controls the narrative. Introducing a tracker—especially a human—is a risk I would not take."
Varn's face paled. "But... the Dispatch crystal. It came through the official channel. 'Priority Response.' Only a High Lord or a Royal can override the Dispatch protocols like that."
Valara walked to her desk and set the wine down. Her fingers traced the edge of the obsidian surface.
"I didn't call them," she whispered. "And you didn't call them."
"Then who did?" Varn asked, his voice dropping. "If someone else knows..."
"Someone else is playing the game," Valara mused, her mind racing. "A third player. Someone who wanted those two specific constables at that specific body. Perhaps to catch us. Perhaps to create chaos."
She looked at Varn. The Captain looked ready to bolt.
"We have to kill them," Varn said. "They saw the wound. The human, Elian... he noticed the lack of blood. He asked about the sound."
"Panic is unbecoming of an officer, Varn," Valara snapped. She stared into the fire elementals dancing in her hearth. She needed to turn this anomaly into an asset.
"Where is the weapon?" she hissed.
Captain Varn reached into a hidden pocket in his cloak and produced a metallic cylinder about seven inches in length and tapered at the ends into sharp points. He held it up for Lady Valara to see.
"Money well spent, if I do say so myself. Hedish, go and keep it in the vault." Lady Valara gestured to her manservant, who quickly takes the weapon and stores it in a small lead box, and bows out of the room.
"If an unknown player put them on the board," Valara said slowly, "then we simply change their role."
She looked up, her eyes gleaming with malice.
"We don't just kill them, Captain. That looks like a cover-up. We make them the villains."
"My Lady?"
"Issue a city-wide alert," Valara commanded. "Use the Dispatch. Paint them as traitors. Say they were the ones who conspired with the human radicals. Say they lured the Prince into the alley. They are not investigators anymore, Captain. They are the prime suspects."
Varn nodded slowly, seeing the logic. "If they are suspects... my men can kill them on sight. No questions asked."
"Exactly," Valara said. "Burn the rats out of the sewer, Captain. And if you find this 'Unknown Player' who sent them... bring them to me. I want to know who else dares to move pieces in my city."
Varn slammed his fist to his chest in a salute and turned to leave, his cape swirling behind him.
Valara turned back to the balcony. She watched the glow from the Sump. The plan had changed, but the goal remained the same. However now that another player has joined the table, she knows that the stakes has just gotten higher.
"Could the old fool be up to something?" she mused. She turned her gaze to the Royal Palace, and smiled.
"If you want to play," she whispered to the wind. "I'm all in."
She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a smooth black stone. Varn would handle the brute force, but she needed insurance.
"Undertaker," she spoke into the stone. "I have a job. Two targets. Do not fail me."