Once more the God-Kings, and now their new-found entourage, rise up into the air on winds of spell and sorcery, this time destined for the heart of the Realm itself, the Imperial City–and at its center, secret heart of the heart, the Imperial Manse, that inauspicious relic of the Age of Dreams, from which the Scarlet Empress once unleashed power to conquer all Creation. And so you fly downriver, the whirlwind keeping above the margin of the marmoreal clouds–Ivory Eyes knows better than to risk being sighted by the countless host of Dragon-Blooded in the city below, the very hearth of the Immaculate Order and the Wyld Hunt. And so it is that Ivory Eyes brings her spellwind to a half, after a few hours flight, dead above the center of the city, so high upon the azure firmament of the sky as to be unseen by even the scarlet ibises that fly among the thin breezes.

"We'll need to find somewhere to cache the warstrider, of course." Roseblack suggests, presuming to discuss strategy even with you. "That shouldn't be too hard; the entire city sought sanctum as soon word of the demon was spread. The Palace itself will still be adamant with guards, but the outskirts should be deserted. We ought leave it in one of the valleys, just a few hours' walk from the city. I have fangs enough to guard it. And then, of course, we have to find a way into the Manse itself." For all the confidence that shines through in her voice, there is the slightest quaver at the last sentence–Ejava has no idea how to penetrate the heart of the Realm alone, let alone with a circle of Anathema.