One of the things that Emmaline had always loved about Altdorf is that it never slept. Even as the hour moved towards midnight the streets of the upper city still bustled with rowdy celebrants staggering from tavern to tavern. Students still gathered in the platz and shouted at each other in drunken debates. Pie sellers and street vendors still hawked their wares at the street corners with well practiced cries. Whores called out promises of exstacy from balconies and knockingshop doors. The fog gave all this a very strange aura, refracting voices and seeming to materialize people a few feet ahead and vanish them a few feet behind. Emmaline was sure that Altdorf's legion pickpockets was making full use of the unusual conditions as they approached the Tower of Blackhaven.

"They call that an iron works?" Neil whispered derisievly. The street droped closer to the Reik here, houses and shops giving way to a network of armorers, blacksmiths, swordsmiths, coopers, farriers, gunsmiths and bell founders which lay along this portion of the Reik. By ordanance of the city, these had to stop work after sundown so that the clamor of their anvils would not keep half the city awake. Smoke still drifted from the brick chimneys of many, as most artisans chose to keep the fires low rather than let them go out entirely. The paving here was new and fitted together so tightly a knife blade could not be passed between any two stones. This was a result of the numerous dwarves who lived in this quater. They had grown so frustrated with the work of 'manlings' and the constant delays caused by wagon breakdowns that they had clubbed together to create what the locals jokingly called 'Backfire Pass' owing to the fact that the good road led to twice as many wagons thronging it and actually making the conjestion worse.

"How will we get the boys back to the farms once they have seen Nuln," Emmaline joked as she lead the way through the back alleys towards the distant shape of Blackhaven. The tower had once been a turent in one of the earlier citywalls that had long since been swallowed by Altdorf's growth. It had partially collapsed as a result of people scavenging for stones but had been saved by a wizard who had moved in and constructed a private Tower. The job had been done with more enthusiasm than skill, so that a rickety series of half timbered floors had been piled ontop of the original tower until it nearly trebled in height. A great iron chimeny ran from the top of the old stonework to the peak of the tower carrying the smoke from several floors up beyond the conical tile roof.

"Looks like it might come down at any minute," Neil opined as he gazed at it skeptically across the empty courtyard that surrounded it. A wrought iron fence sectioned off some wild looking gardens that were overgrown and forboding in the fog.

"That is a cheery thought," Emmaline agreed, still slightly bugged from the Bugmans. She crossed quickly to the fence but laid a restraining hand on Neil's shoulder when he made to vault it. Emmaline muttered several syllables and then pulled two of the bars appart as though parting branches.

"Neat trick," Neil observed as he followed her through. It was always better to pass through barriers rather than break them when it came to magic. Much less chance of setting off countermeasures.

"You aren't the only thing that is putty in my hands," she assured him as they reached the base of the Tower. Neil laid a hand on the heavy fieldstone and mortar construction.

"Do you have a way through this?" he asked. Emmaline pointed towards a window several stories above.

"I'll stay here and keep watch, you can lower a rope to me when it is safe," she said sweetly.