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In a background thought process, Hector kept reaching out with the Scarf, trying to discern any movement or abnormal shapes, but thus far, everything seemed quite still out there. Piles of rocks. Collapsed buildings, maybe? Or just natural accumulations. It did strike him as a bit odd that he couldn’t sense any actual buildings around them. This was supposed to be the old imperial capital, right?

And if they were just underneath modern day Andeyal, then shouldn’t this place be pretty well-preserved?

Thankfully, Selena Cortes asked the question that was already on Hector’s mind. “What happened to this place?” she said. “How did it end up all... abandoned and haunted?”

‘This city has a long history of profound misfortune,’ said Garovel. ‘During the early days of the Mohssian Empire, Andeyal came under siege twice a year for... oh, two or three decades straight. The people here endured a lot, and it really affected the character of the city as a whole. The way they viewed themselves, that is. Andeyalans became a whole different breed, you might say. Tough of spirit, courageous and proud, but also pessimistic and somber. “Warriors of Sorrow” was what some called them. Even the civilians.

‘The reason they burrowed underground like this was to protect themselves from those very sieges, and then, even after the attacks stopped, much of the culture stayed down here, as it had taken on a life and identity of its own. Even some of the Mohssian emperors decided to remain down here, supposedly because they felt that this was where the true heart of the empire resided.’

‘Propaganda,’ said Voreese. ‘They just felt safer down here, since political assassinations were commonplace in those days. Everybody thought they could kill their way into becoming the next emperor.’

‘A couple of them did,’ said Rezolo.

‘True,’ said Voreese. ‘But that didn’t work out very well for them in the end, now did it?’

Garovel snickered. ‘It’s tough to rule with an iron fist for very long when us uppity reapers can convert any random civilian into a deadly, superhuman assassin in only a few short months.’

‘Yep,’ said Voreese. ‘And many of us are petty, grudge-holding bastards with strong political opinions and a lot of free time on our hands.’

Hector couldn’t help feeling slightly horrified at the picture they were painting.

‘But anyway,’ said Garovel, ‘my point was that things were turbulent down here from the beginning. Even “peace time” wasn’t really that peaceful. But that all changed when the Great Green Sickness came along.’