The Old City

0.22: Puppets

First Ring Headquarters of the Enforcers, June 26th

"Sir, we just received a rather strange tip."

Sergeant Arturus was a well-built man with tight cropped black hair that had recently been peppered with white. His grey uniform was unbuttoned at the top and his hat was worn at the back where his fingers nervously tapped when he heard bad news. He closed a drawer that clanged with the sound of untouched medals, and preemptively reached now for the hat before nodding for the junior detective to continue.

The man reporting – the boy, really – was named Samuel, a middling recruit from the Enforcer Academy he had plucked for his squadron. He had a messier haircut with doey eyes that looked for orders instead of solutions. His one uniform remained nicely pressed despite frequently patrolling the streets. (This reminded Arturus he should requisition a spare for him). He was a smart enough kid, but he was too literal and needed to get used to the violence of the job.

"He said that dozens of soldiers have infiltrated the city and are plannin' an attack. The Crimson Lotus bribed the Harbormaster or one of his assessors to smuggle them in. Supposedly they are holed up in an abandoned apartment complex in the Redlight District. I sent a plainclothes mage to check the docks. There were two large crates with the Crimson Lotus insignia, and we identified several auric residuals. It was estimated that each crate could hold a dozen men with food and supplies for a monthlong journey."

"Who did you say reported this?"

Samuel checked his notes. "The man did not give a name. He was well-built and it was noted that he possessed magic we couldn't classify. I'm sorry sir."

"It doesn't matter right now. Has anybody been to the Redlight District?"

"No, sir."

Arturus leaned forward and surveyed the room. There were snakes all over. Marlow was the longhaired fast talking greenhorn who was rising the ranks a little too quickly. Byron was his contemporary who, despite sharing the same rank, enjoyed a far nicer lifestyle and always seemed to have more disposable income than Arturus. Few of them could be trusted.

His own team consisted of three men he trusted, barely. Samuel was too young to have been corrupted. He hoped to be a role model of sorts, as he had been with Vestrael, his second in command, had never failed him in seventeen years patrolling the First Ring. Warwick was the third man, a quiet and meticulous fellow who tended to stay in his corner of the bullpen. He did not socialize with the others for fun, and he clocked in and out at precisely the times he was ordered to. Arturus had tried to bring him out of his shell, but for now was satisfied knowing that no detail could escape him – hopefully that would rub off on their greenhorn.

"Surveil it with Vestreal but don't do anything stupid." He pointed at his lieutenant and then at Samuel. "Gather every detail you can as discretely as possible. If you find anything, get back here immediately, understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

He's adorable.

***

The Redlight District, that night

Two dozen Enforcers Arturus had roped into the mission were arranged in three rows on the north side of the building, while Warwick managed another six men to the south. He may not have trusted them, but if they were to fight dozens of enemy combatants, he required the manpower. None of the enemy could be allowed to escape.

At ten o'clock precisely, Arturus shouted, "Fortorging!" and a speeding ball of orange flames burst from his fingertips, cast long shadows across the street, and blew a twenty-foot hole in the side of the soldiers' hideout.