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     Thorns was worse than I had imagined it would be. Subdued and fearful in the shadow of the grotesque corpse fortress, known as Juggernaught. I stood in an alleyway as I watched a stilted patrol of dead men march down the street in rusting armor. The living huddled together in fear and scurried off the street to make way for the soldiers. Thorns had been a big trading partner, if not exactly an ally, of Lookshy. When word came that an army of the dead had risen and sacked the city, it was too late for our forces to do anything about it. We had sent agents into the city before, we knew the general condition but seeing it at this level, in the dirt and mud. It made me angry. A cruel anger that made me want to make everyone responsible pay in the most agonizing way possible. My gloves creaked as I tightened my hands into fists. I think I would have attacked that passing patrol if I hadn’t been interrupted first. 
    “You don’t look like you’re from around here. We don’t get a lot of tourists so who are you?” The voice was gruff, like someone who had done a lot of screaming lately. I slowly turned until I faced the crossbow bolt inches away from my face. The man behind it was my age, maybe younger, but his skin was weathered and his dark hair showed flecks of gray near his temples. 
     “I’m just passing through looking for someone.” I raised my hands in a nonthreatening way. “Maybe you could help. The Maiden of the Mirthless Smile?” Was it the smartest move to advertise why I was here? Maybe not. I had a feeling, however, that this guy was part of the resistance movement here. He had a heavy scarf around his neck probably used for covering his face. The crossbow he was holding on me was a watchman’s weapon, the old city crest on the stock was clearly visible to my eyes even though he had taken pains to cover it in pitch. He held it properly and it didn’t waver or shake. Yeah this guy was resistance. 
     “What do you want with that butcher?” His eyes hardened like steel and he snarled as he said it. Bingo. 
     “I’m here to kill her.” I looked him in the eyes, matching his gaze. The crossbow lowered just a fraction and he stood up a little straighter. 
     “You don’t look like an assassin.” He said, looking me up and down, his eyes lingering on my old service blade jutting out from under my coat. 
     “Today I am. Though I could use some help.” He stared at me just a little longer, and dropped his crossbow and slung it under his own coat. He turned and gestured for me to follow. After a few switchbacks and quick turns, I was almost completely lost. Then we stopped in a lane behind an old townhouse that had been gutted by fire during the invasion.
    “Do you think you could find this place again?” He asked as he scanned the alleyway.
    “Honestly I doubt it, You brought me here a pretty convoluted way.”
    “Good.”  Satisfied that we were alone in the shadow of the twisted ruins, he knocked on an old cellar door. The knock was rhythmic, but stilted, a pattern of some kind. It was returned and the doors were flung wide. He went down into the doorway and I followed. Behind us two equally massive and scarred men slammed and locked the doorway behind us. 
    The basement was simple. Just a big room filled with barrels and crates. This one also happened to be filled with weapons and about a dozen angry Thornites. Most of them were military or watch members, judging by the way they stood and regarded me. They rested their hands on sword pommels and leather wrapped cudgels hanging at their belts.  
    “He says he’s here to kill the Maiden.” Gruff said. A few of the assembled fighters laughed. It was a bitter laugh. I tried not to take offence. 
    “What nexus whore made you think your balls are big enough for that job redcoat?” The voice came from a tall, muscular woman with short hair; a nasty scar ran down her neck and disappearing under her collar. 
    “You’ll have to take my word for it. I was a soldier in Lookshy once.” I regarded them, I wasn’t sure where the people of Thorns sat in regards to Anathema. So I was hesitant to reveal the source of my confidence so soon.
   “Lookshy runs a tight army sure, but she’s a fucking monster. The only reason she hasn’t cut down every man, woman, and child left alive in this city is because she would get bored hacking up corpses that didn’t scream.” The woman slammed a knife into the top of a crate that was being used as a table. Everything on it jumped. I sighed and held out my hands in a placating gesture. 
   “Listen, I’m not here to cause trouble for any of you. I just want some information. My thoughts on it are, if I kill her, things get a little easier for you around here. If she kills me? Well, you don’t know me, so you keep on doing whatever you want. Your man was right, I’m not from around here. I need to know the lay of the land, where she stays, where she hunts. I know you keep track of that kind of stuff. You’d be fools not to.” They shifted around and exchanged glances. An older man stepped forward; he walked with a limp and was missing 3 fingers on his left hand. He was built like a warrior who had retired from soldiering long ago. 
   “What assurances do you give that when she defeats you, and she will, you won’t tell her of our help?” His voice was steady, but these people lived on the ragged edge. They fought where they could, and hid the rest of the time, they probably had warrens filled with men, women, and children dependent on hope… the hope that they could win someday. I had made my decision. Even if they thought me a demon, I was a demon with a cause they could get behind. 
   “I am Kerberos, known as the Duelist. Chosen of the Dawn. I will not fall, and she could not break me if I did.” I saw the light in the room change quality, the shadows ran from me. Eyes widened and caught the golden reflection of the eight pointed sunburst shining on my forehead. 

They backed up, some stumbling over barrels and their own feet. Everyone but the old man, in his eyes I saw what I wanted. Hope. “You’ve met the Exalted before?” I asked him. “I have. I don’t expect you to solve all of our problems, but I think you can solve this one after all. The Maiden spends her days overseeing the docks where our people slave away repairing the damage the dead army has done. She’ll be eager to break the monotony, I’m sure.” I gripped his forearm in a soldier’s handshake and met his eyes. “Thank you, my friend.” To his credit, his eyes only flicked up to my caste mark once.