[i]Gods above.[/i] What Ioannes had always heard to have been a grand, shining city had been turned into a behemoth of a citadel, its walls black as night. From the top of the rocky bluff on which his cavalry forces sat, Ioannes could see sentries standing atop towers of twisted, hideous iron. None of the fractured [i]polis[/i] of Atlantis could have created such a thing, nor the fierce northmen or mounted hordes of the northeast. This was something else.

Ioannes turned to his gaping horsemen, and attempted to make his voice stern and confident. "It seems that things shall not be as easy as we hoped," he intoned, and gestured towards the back of the crowd. "You, there, ride for the main army and tell them what we have seen. We must encircle the city before they have word of our arrival." He could only hope that they had not yet been spotted; the outriders and sentries of Ioannes' host reported nothing but blackened hills and twisted, scraggly trees. 

"The rest of you, form into groups of ten and ride around the perimeter of the city. Keep well out of sight, and strike down any scouting parties that you come across. [i]Do not let them know that we are here.[/i] If that means that you need to spend hours creeping through the shadows of outcroppings, so be it. We must know what we face." 

In the end, when all the orders had been given, one hundred horse set off back towards the main army, while the rest began to pick their way down the bluff and into the valley that contained the horrific city before them. The sun had begun to set by then; with any luck, none would be seen as they made the descent.

Ioannes had also dispatched a rider to send word back to Acharnae, and command that his paltry fleet be brought up the bay. A blockade could hardly go unnoticed, but by then the main army would have surrounded the city -- and ships meant a reliable source of supplies to feed Ioannes' men and construct siege weapons for what might be a lengthy struggle. He did not, however, send word to the [i]polis[/i] -- better that they think he was putting another empty crown on his head than that his army was weakened against some unknown foe. If it was revealed that that citadel was swarming with foul demons and sorcerers, well, then it might do to have a few allies -- but until such a thing was discovered, Ioannes was content not to reveal all of the cards in his hand. 

The dawn had nearly come when Ioannes' own ten spotted a scout emerge from a postern gate, perhaps half of a mile away. He seemed to be heading towards their group, though with any luck that was sheer coincidence. Ioannes commanded his compatriots into the safety of a nearby forest of blackened trees, where they waited for the scout to pass.

Once the man had gone by, and Ioannes' party sat between him and the citadel, they emerged from the treeline, blades and lances in hand. The scout stood little chance against ten of the famed cavalry of Atlantis -- a lance plunged entirely through the neck of the scout's horse, and he was thrown from the saddle. One man dismounted and pulled him from beneath the dying horse, blade at his throat.

"Leave him alive," Ioannes said. "We shall see what he knows."