Sparrow and Wolf

The view slowly fades in from blackness to reveal a small troop of five soldiers as they march down a lengthy corridor. All but the men is blurred, however there is evidence of portraits and tapesties lining the walls. The burly men come to a halt in formation before the tremendous dark oak double doors that marks the end. With a great creek the doors open, light floods blindingly into the dark hallway.  The world within the doors appears to be a great, glittering throne room. A council of masked men, each in their own solid colored robe, sits high above the floor of the great hall as though to remind those summoned that they are less worthy than their leaders. The most eye catching of the nine councilmen is the white-robed man seated in the grand throne. It could belong to a Tsar, if that Tsar liked to hide his face behind a mask with eight other men.  The soldiers enter the throne room proceeding to stop before the white-robed man. They cross their right fist accross their chests as they kneel down before him.  "Volkov." The white-robed man bellows, "Rise."  He gestures to the soldier to come forward.  "I have a mission for you and your men.", he says as he gestures to the group with a flourish of his hand. "You will depart from the gates before the sun rises. Your task is the retrieval of the Sparrow. She is a great threat to the Empire and must be brought back in our custody before any other catches wind of her location."  "Da, sire." Volkov replies.  "She has been hidden well, but you will be provided with a location as soon as you arrive at the gates. She is to be returned....unharmed." The white-robed man states.  "Are we to abstain from harming civilians in our pursuit, sire? What are your orders?" Volkov inquires.  "Kill any who stand in you way. Sparrow, however must be brought back ALIVE. Just be discreet, Volkov." The white clad man asserts.  The bright room begins to fade, replaced by sunlight fluttering through thick eyelashes, heavy on sleep ridden eyelids.