'We haven't got anything that can hurt them,' Mallory says redundantly. His anger boils within him, but he maintains a cool demeanour for the sake of his troops.

'Whatever, we send out a message,' Decebalus replies. 'We will resist unto death.'

'Very poetic, with an unnerving knack for premonition.'

The battle continues for fifteen full minutes. Across the city, buildings collapse and roofs are torn off. Many die. Finally the Riot-Beasts drift away as if they are leaves caught on the wind. The storm clouds follow, the thunder's rumbling decreasing, until the sun eventually breaks through.

'As soon as you have the figures, let me know how many died this time,' Mallory orders.

'Why do you punish yourself?'

'Because until I find a proper defence, I'm responsible for every one.'

They wait until their exhausted troops file off the rooftop before making their way down. There have been too many attacks, and little chance to rest.

Now the attack has passed, you prepare to move on. You are unsettled; the threat here is palpable. But you know there is still more to see. The Far Lands is a place of subtlety and intrigue, and many things shift behind the surface of all that you see.

5

In the ringing corridors of the palace, a woman staggers, blood streaming from a gash on her temple. Her name is Marie, a scullery girl in a large London house during the Regency period of George IV; ignored by those who believed themselves to be her betters, she gained renown as a brave Sister of Dragons. Here, though, she is disoriented, terrified; the world has shifted beneath her feet.

As Mallory and Decebalus come down from the roof, engaged in deep debate about tactics, she comes to a halt, wide-eyed. Seeing her wound, Mallory and Decebalus rush to her aid, but she only shrieks and presses against the stone wall as if hoping it might swallow her.