And so Emma Strider led the company down from Fort Longbriar under the watchful eye of General Sophia.
They were accompanied by several soldiers Emma had never met before. There was Lakshmi Bana, a crossbowman with an easy laugh and skin the color of mahogany; she was an excellent shot.
There was also Bartleby Gutentag, an Engineer who spent most of his time reading obscure technical works and scrawling notes in the margins. He seemed friendly enough, but said little.
Still, Bartleby was a chatterbox compared to Astrid Shadowhand, Sophia's silent and stalwart guardian. Emma had heard stories about Astrid. She was an assassin, dispatched by the Magistrate to quietly eliminate threats to the Empire. Shadowhand wasn't her real name: it was a moniker she'd earned from a long career as a covert killer. No one knew her real last name.
Whether from training, habit, or simply from the deadening weight of the dozens of people she'd slain, Astrid was stone-faced and inscrutable at all times. Rumor had it that she had killed every man who'd ever loved her. It was just a rumor, but Emma still made it a habit to give Astrid a wide, wide berth.
The march to the outskirts of Ploutos lasted several days. Emma was acutely aware of the General observing her, taking her measure as a captain. That suited Emma just fine. She had always been ambitious, studious--driven. This was a better opportunity to prove herself than she could have ever asked for.
On the morning of the fourth day, they arrived.
They were accompanied by several soldiers Emma had never met before. There was Lakshmi Bana, a crossbowman with an easy laugh and skin the color of mahogany; she was an excellent shot.
There was also Bartleby Gutentag, an Engineer who spent most of his time reading obscure technical works and scrawling notes in the margins. He seemed friendly enough, but said little.
Still, Bartleby was a chatterbox compared to Astrid Shadowhand, Sophia's silent and stalwart guardian. Emma had heard stories about Astrid. She was an assassin, dispatched by the Magistrate to quietly eliminate threats to the Empire. Shadowhand wasn't her real name: it was a moniker she'd earned from a long career as a covert killer. No one knew her real last name.
Whether from training, habit, or simply from the deadening weight of the dozens of people she'd slain, Astrid was stone-faced and inscrutable at all times. Rumor had it that she had killed every man who'd ever loved her. It was just a rumor, but Emma still made it a habit to give Astrid a wide, wide berth.
The march to the outskirts of Ploutos lasted several days. Emma was acutely aware of the General observing her, taking her measure as a captain. That suited Emma just fine. She had always been ambitious, studious--driven. This was a better opportunity to prove herself than she could have ever asked for.
On the morning of the fourth day, they arrived.