Orion and Ragnar, or more accurately, Orion made a difficult decision and deigned to keep away from the survivors of the battle. It could have been pure coincidence; perhaps an inner conspiracy that didn't reach the highest echelons of the Duchy. But seeing the woman he had recognized at court gave him a pit in his stomach, and he knew if he ever wanted to get Annika back alive, they needed to return to the Palace. But not as they were, or they would be taken back in chains. 

Orion and Ragnar had turned north, following the rougher terrain and the curvature of the city, leaving behind the boneyard of lost vehicles. No doubt the military and whatever junkyard scrappers were around would soon arrive to claim the armor for themselves. 

They traveled a few miles under the morning sun, keeping close to the factories that had popped up to their right and away from any roads that travelers might pass by. After an hour or two, the two men found refuge under what appeared to be an abandoned supply depot, likely evacuated from frequent Vuldrok attacks. The outside of it had shell marks from shrapnel, and it looked unclean and without maintenance for God knows how long. 

Making their way up the loud, iron utility stairway, Ragnar and Orion found a smaller room where they could rest and keep their voices from carrying across the small compound. The barbarian looked even surlier and grim than usual, setting himself down in the corner and huffing. "So, we are to enter the Palace grounds when we don't know where the girl is or even if she is still alive?" He voiced aloud, showing just how ridiculous the plan was. 

"Yes," Orion said, resting his head back against the wall, sitting across from the Vuldrok. "If you're too frightened to go, then I release you from my service." The statement was made with vitriol, and Ragnar was greatly offended at it. It meant either he was released and branded a coward, or he went and could not complain. Orion seemed apathetic at it, brooding over whether or not his confessor was still alive.

It irked him how much he cared about her safety. He felt if someone could read his thoughts, he would seem more like a worried puppy than the wolf he appeared. The thought of someone reading his mind only made him fret more, and with a growl he dispelled his thoughts and began to pray, asking for peace and tranquility to accept whatever life's reality was. Many good men had died today, and he was worried over one woman who might not even be dead. 

"We go at night then?" Ragnar grumbled, and the Knight nodded. 

"We go through the back tunnels." Orion said. "The Baron showed me a map of the city before I arrived here. It wasn't a blueprint of the palace, but there was marked transportation tunnels through the rear of the old city where the Palace sits. Likely there's little traffic, and even more likely there are sewers. We'll go into them and climb into the Duke's seat of power from below." It was the only plan he had. He prayed it worked. 

"Sewers?" Ragnar echoed, scratching his scraggly beard. "What are those?" 

"...Get some sleep. I'll take first watch."