Talia was the second to last officer to arrive in the command wagon. Lightstones shone warm light down from the ceiling down onto the map table, which was surrounded by the stools Torval had pulled out for their first meeting what felt like so long ago. It’d only been a little over a week.

The youngest officer examined her fellows as she took her seat opposite the delvemaster, on the only stool with its back to the door. Torval and Darkclaw looked exhausted, though the human was by far the worst of the two, with his arm in a sling and bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Long-drawn faces aside, the pair were hunched over the map of the tunnels, eyes aflicker as they silently gauged their options.

Zaric, while uninjured, looked like a hobgoblin had chewed him up and spat him back out. His dark skin was swallow and sweaty, and dark circles ringed his bloodshot brown eyes. The Mage-Commandrum had pushed his stool up against the wagon wall and slumped in his seat. He looked like he would fade at any moment.

Even Copperpike looked exhausted, his ruddy face coloured by dark bags, though Talia knew the quartermaster hadn’t participated in the fighting. He sat opposite Zaric with his right arm folded across his chest and his left holding his omnipresent clipboard.

The only one left apparently unscathed was Calisto, sitting next to Zaric, head bent over a thick tome in her usual leather reinforced robes as if nothing had happened, her hair neatly parted and her face impassive.

The delvemaster looked up from the map as Talia took her lone seat at the end of the table and graced her with a tired smile. The arcanist pulled off the hood of her cloak and gave him a nod in return, a tight grin stretching across her cracked lips.

The delvemaster cleared his throat.

“We’re all here for now, we may as well start. Neverin sent word ahead that he would be a little late. Talia, if you wouldn’t mind updating us on the status of the wounded in the case he can’t make it, I would appreciate it,” he said.

“Of course, I haven’t been back since before I got up, but I’ll give the rundown if Lazarus is too busy,” she replied.

“Alright. In that case, Mage-Com., why don’t you start us off with an estimate on the state of our mage complement, and what the timeline is on removing our unfortunate obstacle, so we can discuss our next steps.”

Zaric jolted up from against the wall at the sound of his title. The usual joviality had vanished from his face; his voice came out as a croak.

“I overstrained myself in the battle, and the manaburn is taking its toll. Osra is slightly better off, but we’ll see after she’s done charging up the enchantments,” he said.

Torval bobbed his head sympathetically, gesturing for him to continue.

“As for the cave-in, from what I could tell it’s a natural occurrence. The goblins simply tunnelled their way up when the rock fall cracked the ceiling to their warrens. Removing it will…take some time. It’s not a homogenous mass, and we’ll have to be careful not to cause further structural damage…”

“How long, Mage-Commandrum?”

Zaric thought it over a moment, looking more serious than Talia had ever seen him.

“If I push us hard, meaning I’ll be risking madness, mind you, I think we can get it done in twelve hours, all told. But I would be out of commission for days at the least—or dead from the kill switch.”

Talia sucked in a breath.

We’re not that desperate, are we?

Torval frowned.

“Give me the estimate with time to rest and recover, with enough leeway to leave us with two battle ready mages by the end of it.”

“Two days of rest, two days of excavation. The tunnel is collapsed for almost a kilometre and the cave-in has broken right through into the goblin warren below. I’ve sealed off their access for now, but if Osra and I aren’t careful…”

“Then we end up in a fight with a whole hive of the scum…” the delvemaster muttered.

“Exactly.”

“What if you take the time to recover from mana burn but push back to the brink?”

Zaric grimaced and shook his head.

“It’s doable, sure, but mana burn is compounding, not additive. Time wise, we’d be looking at two-day rest, twelve-hour excavation. But my apprentice and I would be out of commission for three days, maybe four after that.”

Torval pulled out his notebook and jotted down a few notes.

“Your estimate takes into consideration enchantment and artefact upkeep?” he asked the mage-commandrum.

Zaric shook his head, turning to look in Talia’s direction.

“How’s the state of our arcanics?” the mage asked.

Talia shrugged, considering the question.

“Osra should have taken care of the most egregious cases by now, the rest will last through the week at the very least. Wagon seven’s heater needs some love but…on the time scale you’re discussing, our enchantments should hold. I can tell Osra to hold off on recharging the crew’s artefacts even, if it’ll make a difference,” she said.

Torval shook his head.

“No, I want our defenders battle ready. Hopefully they won’t be needed again so soon, but I won’t have us caught off guard just because there shouldn’t be any hostiles nearby. We mistakenly assumed that there would be no enemies so close to the city once before and look where it got us. I won’t be so foolish again.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Darkclaw and Calisto nodded their agreement and Copperpike grunted.

“Well, either way, a few artefacts won’t make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things, we can have them charged without affecting my estimates,” Zaric explained.

Torval considered the issue, making more notes in his book, speaking without looking up.

“Copperpike, can I assume we have enough surplus to make the journey either way?”

“Hmm. Well, we have about a month and a half of wiggle room. A little over that, what with the dead. Shouldn’t we consider just going around, though? Seems a lot of fuss to make when we have other alternatives.”

“Calisto?” Torval prompted.

“We could go around, but at that point, we’d be better off returning to Karzgorad and resupplying. We’d have to backtrack for three days, and the other route is much longer, at least an extra week, and less travelled. Mostly because it passes through a magmamander breeding ground,” the chronicler informed them.

Copperpike paled at the mention of what Orvall’s bestiary called ‘firebreathing lavadwellers twice the size of a small building’. Talia shivered, herself.

“Ahem—right then. We can afford the delay for the commandrum to excavate, supply wise,” the quartermaster opined.

Torval bobbed his head, turning to the scarred beastkin at his side.

“Battlemaster, thoughts on our strategic position?”

Darkclaw’s grunt came out as more of a squeak.

“Battle made much noise. Hunters of sound will come from far. Narvak, uluthil, garbog. Dangerous. Deadly. Meti Zaric’s wall will stop most. Not garbog, but most. Expect calm if work fast. If slow…not so calm. Four days…”

Darkclaw waved a paw from side to side uncertainly.

“Four days not fast, not slow. Sixty-five percent safe, thirty-five fight.”

Talia understood every word the beastkin used.

When put in a sentence though…

Torval clearly didn’t have the same issue, taking rapid notes and nodding along. When he was done, he sat up, falling silent and pondering the issue. Quiet spread amongst the other officers, falling over the table like a pall, broken only by the muffled sound of the front door being pulled open like the top of a coffin.

Moments later, a bedraggled Lazarus, sweat beading his brow and green eyes numb, took his seat by Copperpike, pulling the black bandana from his head and running a skeletal hand through his blonde hair.

“That’s four dead now, we lost Erving to a fungal infection,” the elf said.

The silence beat like a funeral dirge around the table. Torval shook his head sadly. Calisto pulled a small grey book from a lanyard around her neck and wrote down the dead man’s name. The delvemaster sighed.

“We all knew the risks,” he ruled heavily.

Like a prayer.

The other officers each expressed their contrition in their own ways. Copperpike shook his head in disgust, Darkclaw muttered what sounded like an actual prayer for the dead in some beastkin dialect. Lazarus simply stared through the map table as if he could summon his dead patients from the magical clay that undulated softly atop it.

“Zaric,” Torval finally said, “get some rest and tell Osra to take it easy. You have two days to recover and then I want that cave-in excavated in a day. Darkclaw, set up a watch on the wall our good commandrum has put up for us. I want us ready in case something big enough to break through it rears its head. I’d like to think that a hive of goblins would provide a better snack for a garbog than we would, if one is lurking in the deeps below us, but you never know.”

Both officers nodded their affirmation. The delvemaster turned his attention to the healer, who hadn’t looked up from his stare.

“Lazarus. You need rest. Mirielle can handle the wounded that remain. I better not hear from her that you checked into the healing station before eight hours have passed. You’re useless to us like this,” he ordered, steel in his voice.

The elf didn’t even protest, nodding tiredly and standing up wearily. He left without a sound aside from the soft, muffled click of the door closing. When he was gone and the curtain closed, the delvemaster continued.

“Calisto and Copperpike, see if you can plot a different course, just in case complications arise. Shave off as much time as possible. The official charts may have missed something that our map here hasn’t, you never know. Maximal efficiency on both time and supply drain please. I will gauge morale among the crew momentarily, to make sure nobody is having second thoughts among our greener recruits.”

The pair nodded, gazes roving over the interactive map thoughtfully.

“Any questions?” Torval asked.

When none were forthcoming, he got up laboriously.

“Get to it then. I want us back on our way in three days, cave-in or no.”

Calisto stood and poked Zaric, who at some point had dozed off. Then the austere woman began perusing the shelves of books consideringly, while the quartermaster flipped through his clipboard. The collared mage stumbled towards the door, patting Talia on the back as he passed her.

Talia watched from her seat, unsure as to what was expected of her.

“Arcanist, a moment of your time if you please,” Torval called from the curtain to his quarters.

“Er—sure. In your office?” she asked and then winced.

Where else, Tals?

Torval winked at her.

“Yes, arcanist, in my office, such as it is,” he answered wryly.

Fighting an embarrassed blush, Talia made her way over, through the curtain he held open for her, ignoring the ill-tempered scowl Copperpike threw her way as she passed him.

Still doesn’t like me, I see.

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

Torval’s office was cramped, comprised of a pair of low-backed chairs, a desk covered in neatly stacked papers and a carefully made bed at the head of the wagon. The wall doubled as storage space, with a few shelves above the desk for carefully arranged personal mementos: an ivory dagger with a broken hilt, a patinaed bronze statue and a softly pulsating green crystal, among other things.

The delvemaster dropped into the wooden chair with a groan, looking her over. Talia stared back, unsure why she was being singled out. When the silence between them felt like it might begin to fray, he spoke.

“You saved my life.”

Oh, that’s what we’re talking about.

Ridiculous images of the delvemaster prostrating himself and declaring his undying loyalty to her flashed intrusively through her mind.

“Anyone would have done the same,” she dissembled.

“Perhaps. But you were the one in the right place at the right time. So, thank you. You had absolutely no need to face up against a half ton of hobgoblin lard when you yourself admitted to only possessing moderate training. None would have blamed you for retreating.”

Talia scratched the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Er—you’re welcome, I guess. I didn’t really think of running, I just acted. I’m a little surprised I survived, honestly.”

Torval raised an eyebrow.

“And yet, Darkclaw claims you handled yourself well. High praise, coming from him. In any case, if you’ve completed your duties, I would suggest you use this brief pause to study up on the gaps in your knowledge. Calisto tells me you’re learning quickly, but a little time to rest and truly focus on the manuals will have you up to speed much faster.”

Inwardly, Talia cheered, almost giddy.

Three days off! This is my chance to study those books Evincrest gave me. Hopefully the other officers will be too busy to need my help for anything. Calisto will definitely have her hands full with plotting a new course, and Zaric looked dead on his feet.

Her plotting was interrupted as Torval continued.

“Before I send you off, however, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss, now that we have the time.”

The delvemaster fingered a switch under his desk.

Around them, the air stilled, and the voices from the meeting room, already muffled by the curtain, fell completely silent.

Torval leaned back in his chair, pulling a familiar letter from his desk.

“What do you know of this expedition’s true purpose? Evincrest implied you would be of particular use to our goals, and from what I know of her, she’s not one to exaggerate the worth of others.”

Um. What?