The concensus seemed to be that the group should move on to Lord's Crossing. That said, they did need to catch their breath if they wanted to move forward. Cilia offered everyone something to drink and eat, so Fergus felt he should respond in kind. He took a couple swigs of the water and said [COLOR=FF8C00][B]"Thanks for that. Really hit the spot."[/B][/COLOR] before handing the waterskin to the next person in the group. Afterwards, he gave each person a handful of the bloodberry trail mix he kept with him at all times. [COLOR=FF8C00][B]"This should keep us going for a bit. Jerky and trail mix have kept a lot of travelers alive, right?"[/B][/COLOR] His tone of voice gave away that he had no idea and was just trying to keep morale up, but sometimes that did help.

All that aside, Fergus himself was visibly shaken. Where before he was confident and carried himself with an air of dignity; now he seemed nervous, unsure, and scared. Even as he got up to start walking again, his head hung low and he looked around several times before heading out. [COLOR=FF8C00][B]"Well then... let's get headed to Lord's Crossing. Better to start now than later, right?"[/B][/COLOR] His voice was shaky, but he was at least trying to keeo himself together. This war would be terrible, for sure. But if everyone fell apart, it would be much worse. In his mind, Fergus felt he NEEDED to stay composed. If even a representative of House Mnemon cracked under pressure, who could his new companions rely on for support when they reached the capital?

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In the Imperial Ruins, the carnage seemed to be tapering off. While the fires still burned and the undead forces continued their assault, the shelling had ceased and the Juggernaut stood motionless in the distance. Cackling Harlot stood at the ruined gate of the Imperial Manse, a mixed expression of anger and joy on her face. She had been told to assume control of the Realm Defense Grid, but there was no way to immediately access it with the Manse still a crumbling mess. That pissed her off, as she couldn't fulfill her master's orders. However, she still had a secondary objective... and it was one she could complete very easily. Calling out to a duo of ghost-blooded escorts that accompanied her, she made a few motions and directed them to the top of a mound of rubble. They complied, climbed the mound, and retrieved something from a case that Cackling Harlot had handed them. What were they doing?

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In his palace aboard the Juggernaut, Mask of Winters paced back and forth impatiently. He had heard the Imperial Manse was in ruins, but had incorrectly assumed it was "in ruins" much like the Imperial Ruins themselves. That is to say, damaged but serviceable. The Grid would not likely be easy to salvage. He would try, naturally... but that was no guarantee it would be in working order. For the time being, he would continue as planned. Issuing the go-ahead order to his trusted deathknight, Winters then gave another command to the cannon operators on Juggernaut's weapon emplacements.

The gunners fired one salvo into the air, and a quartet of yellow flares hung in the air in an arc over the Imperial Ruins. Another muted groan issued forth from the Juggernaut, and it began to slowly turn its back on the city and began to crawl back toward the coastline.