Walking the perfectly paved streets of this city, Fellaroth and Riegert felt a growing unease that seemed to be compounded by the disturbing silence of the city. Walking through a place like this that should by right be teaming with people, felt somehow wrong, almost as though they were doing something that they shouldn’t. The streets before them started to become slightly more ornate, with small, once well-manicured trees and flower patches lining the way, marking a clear change from what was now evidently the central business district and what was becoming the upper-classed residential area.

  “Are we sure we’re headed in the right direction?” asked Fellaroth.

  “I’m certain of it. It’s been a few years since I was last in this city, but I do recall once having had the pleasure of being introduced to the Head of The Order of Knights in his office in the palace of The Grand Duke. He was a monster of a man. Taller than Jackson and with the bearing of a vorpalbear. He was a truly just man who only ever saw things through the eyes of his duty.” Walking through the noble district, which despite being devoid of life and regular maintenance, still bore all of its grandeur that spoke of a place within Xenendoria whose wealth could truly rival even that of the capital city.

  With The Lord’s atrociously large mansion coming into view, the surrounding buildings grew larger and far more ornate, speaking to the wealth the city had attracted. A sudden gust of wind swept through the vacant street as Fellaroth laid his hand on the gate that granted entry to The Lord’s keep, causing him to pause as he sensed a foul, menacing aura being carried with it. Piering over at Riegert, it was clear that he had felt nothing but the wind, he hadn’t detected the malice that had for but an instant permeated the city. Had he only detected it because he was a God, or was this a presence that only a God could detect? Perhaps it had simply passed by so quickly that it had evaded Riegert’s perception. Either way, seeing that Riegert was none the wiser, Fellaroth decided that now would not be the best time to mention anything, particularly seeing as the presence had completely subsided, leaving no trace of its momentary presence.

  Upon entering the vast courtyard that lay before The Lord’s palace, Riegert quickly veered off the main path walking down a secondary yet no less grand path to their left, which led directly to a large building that was detached from the main building. “Over here. This building belongs to The Order of Knights.” He added, walking quickly to the decadent building’s main entrance. Having climbed the few grand steps that led to the main doors, Riegert found himself perplexed to discover that the door to the building was locked. “Considering that every person in this city seems to have vanished in an instant and without warning, I really expected to find this door open, or at the very least not locked. You wouldn’t happen to know how to pick a lock would you?” he asked, turning to find that Fellaroth had been standing a few paces away staring at The Lord’s manor. “It is pretty impressive, I have to admit that, but that is not the reason we’re here Fell!”

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  “Um, yeah, it’s… impressive…” said Fellaroth, clearly not paying much mind to what Riegert had been saying.

  “So, do you, or don’t you?” Riegert added, a little more impatiently.

  “I’m sorry, what now?”

  “Do you or don’t you know how to pick a lock? Did you sense something in the manor? I mean, it's not like you to space out like this!”

  “It’s nothing, I can’t be sure right now at any rate… ah the door, yes I can open it!” answered Fellaroth, snapping from his daze and walking over to the door with purpose.

  “Now wait just a minute Fell, you are going to pick the lock, right?” but before Riegert could fully finish his sentence, Fellaroth had walked up to the door and slammed the palm of his right hand into it, causing the door to burst open with tremendous force, banging loudly against the inner wall, sending a shockwave of sound that was only amplified by the emptiness of the city.

  “Wow, that door had a surprisingly strong protection spell placed on it!” he said, examining the palm of his hand with the echoing bang fading in the distance.

  “I asked if you could pick the lock Fell, not break the damn door down!” yelled Riegert, examining the door that was to his amazement, perfectly intact.

  “I’m pretty sure that no one is going to mind at this point Riegert.”

  “I guess you’re right about that one…” Riegert added reluctantly.

  “Do you remember where the head of the order’s office is?”

  “It’s right behind those doors at the end of the passage.” Answered Riegert, pointing toward a large set of double doors that could just be seen down a dark passageway.

  “That’s kind of surprising, I would have expected his office to be on the top floor. Isn’t that normally where important people like to be?” asked Fellaroth as they made their way down the long dark passage toward their intended destination.

  “I asked him about that when I met him. He said his predecessor’s office was in fact on the top floor, but that he had it moved upon taking office. He said that he felt that this was the best place for his office because, in the event of any kind of emergency, he would be able to respond far faster from here than he could if he were on any of the higher floors.”

  “You know, I think I might have liked this man.”

  “I think he might have liked you too, Fell. In the time that I knew him, he was always serious and methodical in everything that he did, and he always played his cards close to his chest. You never could tell where his thoughts were leading him.”

  “I can see as much from the state of this office.” Added Fellaroth on looking around the perfectly ordered room. “Everything has a place, and is in its place, just as it should be!”

  “Well, I’m going to assume that the papers on his desk will likely be the most recent ones that he would have been working on at the time when whatever happened here took place.” Said Riegert, taking the seat behind the desk and sifting through the perfectly organised papers, while to his surprise, Fellaroth started routing through the drawers in the desk. “What exactly are you looking for in there?”

  “This!” he answered simply, holding up a small black book. “From what you’ve told me of this man, he is, in some ways, a lot like me. And I have a tendency to periodically document everything that happens as a way to both clear my mind and order my thoughts. As it turns out, I was right. This little black book contains his thoughts and remarks that he felt he couldn’t put down in official paperwork, for one reason or another.”

  “Very well then. What does it say?”

  “Give me a moment…”