The collared Mage-Commandrum pulled aside a heavy curtain that hung in the inner doorway to the wagon’s interior, revealing…more black curtains. They hung along segmented rails on either side of a narrow aisle through the middle of the space, creating a dark tunnel to yet another curtain at the end.

Zaric chuckled at her expression.

“Well, this is…gloomy,” Talia said.

“Functional though,” he replied, pulling back one of the curtains to reveal a surprisingly cozy-looking pair of bunks bolted directly onto the wall.

Given the darkness of the room, she expected to see a cramped alcove with a small bed and little else. Fortunately, she was wrong in her estimation.

Oh, it was definitely cramped, but not as much as she had expected; there was ample room for an occupant to sit up against the headboard if they so desired. However, that was not what surprised her.

What surprised her was that the walls the bunks were attached to were painted with a mural of Karzgorad, from what she assumed must be the perspective of someone standing atop the Council Chambers on Deepmount Gorad’s peak. The painting was all oranges, greens, and light greys, with the artist seemingly attempting to inject as much colour into the rendition as possible. Even the faithful replica of the Maw was muted in its pitch blackness, covered with an artistic, fictional fog that essentially removed it from sight. It was, in one word…

Beautiful.

If a little unrealistic. Ok, more than a little, but still.

Talia could make out individual buildings with intricate gold inlays speckling the top of Deepmount Gorad, the Market Quarter and Magister’s Boulevard glowed with arcano-lamp streetlights that shone cool yellow down onto bustling, colourful crowds below. The artist had replaced the drab hues of the Mid and Low quarter with pigmented awnings of various shades.

It looked like a dream, like an idealized version of Karzgorad.

Which I guess is kind of the point. After months in the dark, who would want to remember the city as it is instead of…this. It still feels like a lie, but after a few weeks of colourless existence, I’m sure I’ll understand the appeal.

Artistic value aside, each bunk was, as Zaric had said, highly functional. The headboard, bottom of the top bunk and ceiling all functioned as surprisingly spacious storage spaces, and a warm orange lightstone was set into the drearwood in such a way that its glow would shine down above the occupant’s head. The bedding was soft and plush, instead of the plain, unadorned mattress she had half expected.

Guess I didn’t need to bring a bedroll after all. Oh well, I’ll find some use for it, I’m sure.

Talia looked over at the bald mage, who was sorting through some stuff across the cramped aisle in what she presumed was his bunk.

“This is pretty nice. Much nicer than I was expecting, anyway. Is every bunk wagon like this?” she asked.

“Hmm? Oh, well the officer’s bunks are tad more spacious than the others’, and we have hot water, but on the whole, yes. In its early days, the Delver’s Guild learned very quickly that in the right conditions, mage-madness isn’t the only flavour of insanity they needed to watch out for.”

Talia shivered and looked at the mural with new eyes.

Not the first thing I thought about but…it makes sense.

What was a small lie in the face of insanity?

“Right, that’s not bleak at all, but a very utilitarian explanation, nonetheless. Is this one mine then?” she asked.

“Yep, go ahead and put away your stuff and I’ll give you the ground rules for the bunk-wagons, any wagons really,” he replied.

“Sounds good.”

Talia sat her bag on the bed and began unpacking, carefully ensuring that Evincrest’s books were wrapped in a spare shirt as she tucked them into the headboard cupboard.

“The rules are pretty intuitive. Considering your outfit, you probably already know that light and sound are the biggest risks in the Deep Ways. The wagons are designed to mitigate that. The curtains, when used properly, combine to reduce any sound or light from inside to basically zero,” Zaric said.

He demonstrated by tucking into his bunk and turning the lightstone on, then screaming at the top of his lungs with the curtain drawn. Or at least she assumed he was screaming, as she barely heard a thing, despite standing right across from him. Similarly, when Talia took a peek at his bunk, she saw no indication of the lightstone being on. Her eyebrows rose into her short bangs, impressed, as Zaric pulled back the drape.

“With that in mind, rule number one is to always close the curtains. Always. Even if you’re just getting up to take a piss. Likewise, rule number two is to never leave the light on if you’re not using it. If, on the off chance you find yourself entering a wagon where both the curtains are open and the light is on, that means that someone is awake inside, which means that they should have heard your clicker call.”

“Clicker?” she asked.

“We’ll get to what clickers are when we get you your gear. Just know that rule three is to always use the ‘entering’ click when you are about to open the door to a wagon, then wait for an answering click…”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The rules continued on like that, about a dozen all told, mostly sensible stuff that was pretty intuitive, but a few that were more arcane, like the rule against fraternization when not in a haven. She thought the specificity odd, considering all the precautions already in place to mask sounds, but it didn’t really matter to her.

Talia hadn’t really felt attraction of any kind, sexual or otherwise since…well—ever.

She felt affection and love, sure, for her adoptive father, for Reggie and his daughter Isabelle, and for a few of the other apprentices at the workshop, but when the time had come in school where all of her fellow students had started pairing up, doing what young teenagers did at their age, she had simply…never felt the urge.

Nor had she ever really seen the appeal if she was being honest. Talia didn’t know what she was missing, and she was utterly ambivalent about finding out.

----------------------------------------

It took Talia around fifteen minutes to unpack and another five for Zaric to show her the shower and water closet, but her tour of the officer’s wagon was otherwise uneventful.

The young woman sat on her bunk, revelling in feeling light again. Her mother’s scale armor wasn’t heavy by any means, but added to the heavy pack and cloak, it added up. Now, she only wore her sword and gas mask on her belt, as she’d noticed that going about armed was the norm around delvers. In fact, the only unarmed individual she’d seen so far was Chronicler Calisto.

“Ok, I think I’ve covered everything so…if there aren’t any questions, we’ll go bug our friend Copperpike for some gear. You seem pretty well set up, but you’re missing a few critical pieces of kit,” he said as he pulled the curtain on his bunk back into place.

“Like a clicker?” she asked.

“Like a clicker.”

She waited for Zaric to explain. He didn’t. He just flashed her an enigmatic smile as he opened the door and hopped out.

As they walked, Zaric pointed out different wagons and their functions, each marked by a carved number on the door.

Wagons two through five were all bunk wagons, wagon two being the officer’s wagon and sleeping six, while three, four and five each had room for twelve crew. She’d already seen wagon number one, the command wagon. The remaining were number six, the foodstuff supply and kitchen wagon, number seven, the specialist wagon, which served as a hybrid healer’s station, smithy, and engineering bay depending on the need. That was where she’d do any repairs that were needed to the expedition’s runed equipment or conduct any experiments on the artefacts that they recovered. Wagon number eight was a dedicated supply wagon, which would be emptied and full of loot by the time they left the ruins of Karzurkul.

As they passed through the center circle of wagons, she saw who she could only assume to be Dhustrun standing where Copperpike had stood previously, holding a clipboard, and giving out direction in an admittedly softer and more hesitant voice than the surly quartermaster. If their methods differed, it didn’t show in the delver’s work; Talia picked up no noticeable difference in pace and efficiency of the crew’s work. In fact, the young dwarf’s tone and posture were the only real change. In every other measurable way, Dhustrun was the spitting image of the quartermaster himself.

Just—a little less confident, I guess.

Zaric waved jovially at him, but the dwarf was so caught up in his task that he didn’t seem to notice. Shrugging, he pointed Talia towards wagon eight, where she saw Copperpike sorting through a pile of crates with his back turned to them. He spoke to the pair of them without looking at them, gesturing at a few sacks of marked ‘DRIED FRUIT’.

“I dun know which of ye’s dimwits put foodstuffs in me supplies, but git this o’er ter wagon six quick as, then come back. Some ale-brained fool—” he said as he finally turned, intent on telling them off, “oh, it’s you.”

Hanmul Copperpike’s patois slipped back into the crisp, educated voice he had used in the officer’s meeting, and his expression morphed into one that you might expect on a man—or dwarf—who’d just discovered his boots were full of millipedes. Talia saw a slight frown crease Zaric’s face from the corner of her eye.

“Arcanist Talia here, needs a clicker, some runerope, a set of nighteye pills, a short pick and a bandolier of antidote pots,” the Mage-Com. said, “along with a copy of ‘Delver’s Kit’ and ‘Clicker Calls’”

Hanmul scowled further but began rummaging through the wagon, nonetheless.

“That cloak of yours have an obscuring enchant on it, girl?” the quartermaster grumbled.

“Yep, I’ll just have to get Zaric here to charge it,” Talia replied.

Copperpike muttered something unintelligible back, his mood fouling by the minute.

“If you also have a diamond tipped rune cutter, a magnifying lens, some ninety proof spirits, and bit of silver wire, that would be great as well. For the arcanistry, I mean. Silverite or mithril would be better, but I can’t imagine you keep those—”

“Yea, yea I know what you arcanists need. You’re supposed to bring your own tools with you. If you take these there will be no backups.”

“I uh, can’t really afford a full set of tools yet,” she said.

Technically true. Never mind the fact I wouldn’t have known to bring them even if I had them.

The quartermaster turned around and slammed a full belt of arcanist implements onto the crate in front of her. He rapidly stuffed the delver’s kit into a rucksack and tossed it on the crate with similarly unnecessary force.

“Anything else?”

Zaric’s frown intensified.

“Er—I guess not,” Talia said, throwing the mage-commandrum a questioning look.

“Away with you then, some of us have work to do.”

What the hell is this guy’s problem?!?

She went to leave, grabbing the toolbelt and rucksack, but stopped in her tracks.

You know what? Screw this. If he has an issue with me, we can address it right now.

Talia turned on her heal, putting on her best ‘dealing noncompliant patients face’

“Are we going to have an issue, Quartermaster Copperpike?” Talia asked.

The burly dwarf looked her up and down with distaste.

“You tell me, girl. Will it be a problem when the mapping enchantment breaks? When the quieting runes on the wheels wear down and the beasts come running?” he spat.

Anger flushed the young woman’s face red. Zaric opened his mouth to speak but Talia shook her head.

Better if I don’t start out by leaning on others to defend me.

“So, you worry I’m unqualified, is that it?”

He shook his head.

“No, Arcanist Talia, if there were an issue with your qualifications, you wouldn’t be here. Delvemaster Torval is no fool, but even he must bow to politics it seems. No, what I take issue with is some Clan Angrim foundling using mummy and daddy’s connections to go off galivanting in the Deep Ways like this is some game, bedecked in silverite and seeking glory like some storybook legionnaire wannabe. You’re out to get killed, and when you die, so do the rest of us, mark my words.”

The dying embers in the young woman’s chest flared at the mention of her parents.

Talia went to protest, to point out the inconsistency of his logic around Torval’s judgement. Instead, she fell speechless.

The worst part was that in some ways, the dwarf was right. She had used Evincrest to get onto the expedition. She was unprepared. It was all the assumptions that rankled.

I’ll just have to prove him wrong.

Before she could answer, the call went out for final checks, and the already frantic crew whipped themselves into a frenzy. Copperpike’s attention was drawn away by a scaly beastkin asking about a box of bandages.

Talia pulled at Zaric’s arm from where he stood in shocked confusion.

The expedition would leave in less than an hour.