Ryn identified the biggest problem in the plan. Even with their disguises now, they were just a bunch of nobodies in the ranks of Bloodmane.
What they needed was authority.
Sure, they could work their way up…
But who was he trying to kid—stealing someone's title works a lot faster.
And time was of the essence.
Ryn slipped into the administrative wing as the sun rose to its apex. Stone corridors filled with muted sounds. Most worked with their heads down, busy with their monotonous task.
No one spared him a glance.
And even if they had, no one would have cared.
Ryn watched the process unfold.
Documents entered at one end, were read, stamped, and passed along. Then stamped again. And again.
Almost like an assembly line.
Ryn had a thought, one that was so stupid that it might actually work.
He spotted an empty desk, probably abandoned by a late or overworked clerk, and sat down like he belonged there.
