\--==Official Submission==-- FROM: First Sergeant Alexander Rahl RE: The Lady''s Hand: Part Five The Lady's Hand crouched in the corner of the dark storage room with a handful of pulled-up floorboards beside him. He reached under the floor and pulled out a small backpack and began to sift through its contents. First out was the cloak. It was made of the finest leather, black on one side, and a deep violet on the other; the colors of the House of Turon. He held it for a moment, reminiscing before setting it carefully off to the side. He then extracted a scabbard from the bag and drew from it a kryss sword, still sparkling after all these years. The workmanship was unparalleled. “Kendal...,” he whispered to himself, smiling and running his fingers down the blade. Next out was a small box containing wigs, moustaches, bits of jewelry, dyes, and rubber. Alexander couldn't help but smile devilishly at the sight of it. A small buckler, a handful of reagents, a battered and little-used book of spells, and a handful of Britannian crowns all followed. Alexander dug into a tiny flap in the bottom of the bag and retrieved a tiny bit of blue crystal, smoothed over so it wouldn't irritate the flesh of the inner ear when inserted. He separated the crystal into two halves, and picked at the tiny dials within with a needle. When he was satisfied with the settings, he places the device deep in his ear. He was immediately overwhelmed with the sound of com- traffic. Voices he vaguely recognized from years ago and many he didn't chattering at each other across the Society's communication network, carrying about the business of running an army. With a practiced click of his tongue, he switched over to a second, private network. “Jack of Diamonds to Ace of Spades, respond,” he whispered. “Ace of Spades, verify Jack of Diamonds?” “Jack of Diamonds, seven-indigo-tango commit.” “Umm...verified Jack of Diamonds.... Err...Welcome back to the living sir....” “Hardly, Ace of Spades,” responded Alexander with a grim chuckle, “I wouldn't go that far. I'm authorizing an immediate deployment of Project Muerdetta, I need three men, who will receive their-“ “Come again Jack of Diamonds...Project Muerdetta?” “I don't have time to hold your hand, just do it. I need three men who will receive their instructions once on the other side. Operational window is two hours beginning three hours from this transmission. Be prepared to extract them in a rush, once the window's closed, it's closed for good. Copy?” “Copy that Jack of Diamonds, be advised three hours is well below projected time to implement Project Muerdetta.” “You have three hours to get those men across or the world as you know it will be invaded by an army the likes of which Aluviel has never seen and I will hold you personally responsible. Copy that?” “Copy that Jack of Diamonds. Three men. Three hours. You have my word.” Silence returned. He quickly replaced the bag's contents and tucked the package under his arm and left the storeroom. He made his way to the Great Library and came up with an excuse for the old Annalist there to let him into the ancient archives. He searched there for some time, poring over scores of dusty tomes until he found the locked cabinet tucked away in the corner of the room. He quickly picked the lock and opened the cabinet, revealing five large tomes. Each one was bound in tanned and aged human flesh, their pages having survived the millennia by means of an ancient dweomer older than the Lady herself. He carefully removed the books, feeling both reverence and revulsion as he secreted them on his person. He left the library and began his long, slow climb up the stairs to the top of the Lady's Pinnacle. \--====-- Silent was sitting on a stool at the bar of Tablenhelm's Fall when he felt the disturbance; a minute tug in his head that accompanied the opening of a Way - and it was coming from the tower. Seconds later, he burst through the door of the Society's Headquarters, trying to pinpoint the source of the feeling. He rushed into the armory and heard the sounds...from beneath him. After a minute or two of frantic searching, he found the carefully concealed trapdoor and slid down a ladder into a basement he didn't even know the structure had. He traveled down a short hall, taking him out under the commons in front of the tower and to a heavy door. He opened it carefully and went through. On the other side, he found a large chamber with intricately carved spires of black rock poking through the dirt floor. It appeared to have once been the site of an archaeological dig, but now there were just five men, wearing the royal violet of the House of Turon, working frantically to assemble some sort of frame in the middle of the room. The tug in his mind came from there. He coughed, startling the men who had been too engrossed in their task to notice his entry. “What are you men doing here?” he signed, his fingers darting deftly through the Society's hand-talk,” Actually, come to think of it...who are you men?” “Sir,” one of the men began, striding towards Silent, “you've entered a restricted area, I have to ask you to leave immediately and inform no one what you saw here.” The man attempted to put a hand on Silent's shoulder but he ducked out of the way. The unmistakable click of four crossbow safeties stopped him in his tracks. “Sir,” the man continued, gently ushering Silent from the room, “we have a lot of work to do and no time. Please.” “On whose authority are you here?” Silent asked with his fingers. “Under the authority of the Captain of the Storm Guard, SIR.” And then the door was slammed shut, and Silent was left alone in the hallway, stunned. “Alex?” he mouthed silently. When he finally regained his wits, he strode back into the room bound and determined to find out what in the world was going on. There he found two men instead of five.