After two days of waiting, they had finally received a response from his master.
It consisted of only two simple words, but they had spoken absolute volumes.
“Follow orders.”
Richter forwarded the message to Dieter, who didn’t seem that pleased to hear them.
In turn, they had broken up camp and proceeded towards the massive stone-fortress city.
It would be too hard to hide his crows in such a densely populated city, so Richter had told them to stay put, wait and hide in the woods until they would depart again.
It wouldn’t be long, he had promised them.
Richter had grown up on a small, remote farm deep within the Anderslanden, and even in his early adulthood he had only seen some small, relatively minor villages of at most a few hundred inhabitants.
Now well-travelled and in his mid-thirties he had seen a fair share of the world around him, even having visited the sprawling Lands of Mer, now so terribly haunted.
In the almost eleven years since he had become a crow-keeper, and with all the amazing and sometimes mind-shattering locales he had seen, he had come to a profound conclusion.
One that had shaped him into the very person he was now, and one that had taken him much too long to reach.
Cities just weren’t his thing.
There were just too many people, and those that lived there were too loud, and too rude.
Like any other city, ‘cept maybe the summer-city of Noorland which he hadn’t had the opportunity to visit yet, nature had been forcefully driven away from within its borders, as if it was an uninvited and unwanted guest.
And with it went the calmth and wisdom that the real outdoors would bring, resulting in a dull, and at times depraved people.
But, he had to admit, Den Zollum was impeccably built.
As if cut from a single, white stone, the bursting metropolis stood proud and enormous, each of its five layers higher, more decorated and increasingly awe-inducing than the last.
Those rare buildings that revealed themselves behind the massively thick walls were tall, pointy and thin.
All of them adhered to a singular, rather monotonous color scheme however.
White, white, and then even some more white, with the occasional grey, red or rare brown to round things off, the latter colors mainly reserved for the roofs or the more unique landmarks safely guarded within its walls.
Getting into the city was rather easy, almost concerningly so.
The guards didn’t seem too bothered to do their jobs properly and felt purely ornamental as traders, commoners and other folk casually passed them by en masse.
Although it did make sense, with Den Zollum being so far removed from the front lines.
It was the city itself that was an issue.
No crow or man could approach Den Zollum without being spotted from a hundred, if not a thousand metres away.
As a result, Richter had felt rather isolated from the world and its happenings.
Surrounded by the many noises and the overbearing busyness of the street folk, with their laughter, screams and their general affinity for loudness, he felt very much out of place.
Not to mention that he missed watching the world through sharpened crow’s eyes, feeling that the subpar sight mankind was cursed with did not do justice to the true, stunning beauty of holy Terra.
No, that beautiful, humbling sight was only meant for birds of flight, angels, and those blessed enough to partake in their extraordinary journey upwards.
But he did not feel alone.
Grateful to walk alongside Old Fer’ and his newfound friends, he was enjoying their trip to the city immensely regardless.
Watching people through crow’s eyes was very different from actually conversing with them, Richter had learned since long ago.
The masks to their ego would always come off when they would think themselves alone, and so without ever meeting them, he knew most of his comrades better than they could ever guess.
But now, with a hundred eyes less, he walked around sightlessly in the midst of those who would enforce New Beginnings.
Even with his inferior, blurry eyes he had easily spotted the sheer number of ravens dominating the airspace, the many roofs and the ground.
That, Richter thought, was the most frightening aspect of the hidden war that bloodied the skies.
Even he lacked the means to know which raven would convey what to whom.
Normally, walking into a city with this many luring eyes would mean certain death, especially for someone as famed as Dieter, or even Lukk.
But the Thousand Eyed Conspirator worked his magic in unknowable ways, and none of the ravens bade them any heed.
Ignorant of his profound workings, his companions lacked insight on what wonders his master would perform on the daily to shield them from harm.
No matter, Richter thought.
We all have our part to play.
‘So, Bertrand.
Where did you say our contractor was waiting for us?’ Dieter said to him.
Grateful that Dieter had accepted his request to carry temporary fake names for as long as they were in the city, Richter answered, ‘We are supposed to meet them at some place called Mulloz Ned.
Although I have no knowledge of where the actual builders are supposed to be.’ Dieter stood thinking.
‘Don’t you think it’s strange, Bert?
Why would the contractor meet us in the middle of a busy city instead of somewhere nice and quiet, alongside his builders?’ He saw Lukk sigh.
‘I am starting to get the feeling that there are no builders to begin with, and that the architect has a different reason for bringing us here altogether.’
‘That’s the feeling I’m getting too.’ Dieter said.
‘Sometimes I tire of all the riddles and misdirections he so eagerly employs.
If he wasn’t so good at his job, I’d have surely set up my own construction company long ago.’
Navigating the city proved to be a struggle.
Its streets were confusing, going up and down and sideways like a snake, and some suddenly turned into dead ends or looped back into themselves.
Richter was not sure if this was yet another defensive layer of the city, or simply the poor designs of someone whose highborn, privileged status did not match their level of skill.
Luckily they did not need to explore the higher, more prosperous portions of the city, otherwise searching for their destination would have taken significantly longer.
Despite that, after an hour of searching they had given up and Fernand simply asked the locals for directions.
It was no wonder why they were unable to find the place they were looking for.
Apparently, a significant portion of the city lay deep below the ground, like an undercity, hidden and out of sight.
A Twin City, according to some.
They had been given directions on how to reach the place, but even they were vague and unreliable.
After asking around some more, they had been told that the best way to reach the sub-city was through the sewers.
Lukk and Cornelia had shared a quick glance at each other, but Richter could not discern its exact meaning, only that it had made them both chuckle.
Luckily the sewers here were built large, and meant to walk in without getting filth all over you, with footpaths and rails alongside the flowing water.
And most importantly, they were not filled with unwanted monsters.
Still, it was rather crowded.
If anything, the deeper they went, the busier it got.
After getting lost for what felt like the tenth time, the tunnels finally opened up to reveal the inner city.
An artificial sun hung high in the underground sky, seemingly unconnected to the ceiling slightly above.
It was a tad too red compared to the real thing, Richter found.
Slight, but definitely noticeable.
He could see countless open windows in the stone walls surrounding them, pointing inside.
Decorating those walls, bridges, pathways and bulges of houses were numerous, from the barely visible (probable) bottom to the very ceiling.
Half-carved into the walls and crudely made out of stone, wood and other more basic materials, Richter could not imagine a more unsafe place to live.
And yet, tens of thousands of souls seemed to have no issue with naming this darkened pit as their home.
Like rats, or ants mayhaps they crawled along the enormous hole, their paths lit up by countless torches, candles and indoor fireplaces.
Terribly dangerous, absolutely, but it did have its charm.
‘I had forgotten the name of this place, but I remember now,’ Fernand spoke as he followed Richter’s gaze.
‘Although its name is a mockery of its more presentable twin, Mulloz Ned is equally as important to its wealth.
But you know what makes this place truly special?’ Fernand grinned, all too eager to answer his own question.
‘They have no government of any kind.
Technically, they are not even part of the Niedling, nor do they belong to the city-state alliance.
A den of thieves and other lessers, prosecuted and whatnot, all come together to build their very own, albeit deeply flawed miniature state, far away from God’s divine judgement.
Or that of the Lion, for that matter.’
As they stared downwards into the perfectly round, maddeningly deep abyss from the safety of one of the forward extensions on the wall, Richter felt a significant dizziness coming up as his vertigo momentarily made him lose control.
Fernand noticed, and helped keep him steady.
‘Another dark, hateful hole in the ground.
Splendid,’ Cornelia joked, but her face was pale and not privy to its humour.
Down, deep below them, was an abyss seemingly without end, unlit by the false star.
Despite his absolute terror when it came to experiencing these heights himself, Richter could not help but stare.
And the more he stared into its all consuming blackness, the more he could swear that some primordial un-thing was staring right back at him.