As Trafin saw the squad of soldiers approaching through the trees he should have felt relief. This problem was on them now. He should be able to give his report and go home. Unfortunately, while he had complete faith in Master Sergeant Charles' abilities, he couldn’t say the same for most of the pimple faced youths and ex-tradespeople with him. The uprising meant all the armed forces were struggling with a disparity in levels and experience between the surviving former members and new blood recruits. Hells, the only reason he’d been drafted this morning was because a fresh-faced ranger thought he was next in command while the captain was out on patrol. Ordinarily Trafin might have taken that misconception as a compliment; today was turning out to be anything but ordinary. Might be time to get the Cap to officially name Vidan Vice-Captain, he mused.

After some greetings and the Master Sergeant giving the necessary orders to secure the area, Trafin gave his briefing. He was pleased to see the soldiers were generally attentive. Clearly they knew this could save their lives. They would have heard his relayed report already of course, but the level of detail he could provide with that skill was limited by mana. Speaking of which, no sooner had he completed the report than the sarge took him to one side.

“Thanks for the report, glad to have good intel on this one.” The sergeant's meaty arm covered in plate clapped reassuringly on his shoulder. “You’ve probably guessed this, but I’m hoping you’d go in with us. Some of this lot are still pretty green. Officially, it’d be to look for changes; unofficially, I could do with one less person to keep an eye on and one more good set of eyes."

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As Trafin looked at his old friend he couldn’t help but think there was a bit more salt in his salt and pepper hair and the thick stubble on his chin than he remembered.

“I can give you another set of eyes, but I may not be much more than that. My mana is still close to empty and not being able to throw my knives is a real pain.” Trafin spoke softly, tilting his head away from the group instinctively in case any of them could read lips. “I take it the kid’s arrowheads have been replaced?” He stuck a thumb towards the only chainmail clad soldier who was carrying a bow.

“That’s fine, that’s fine. I’ll tell them it’s escort practice, good training too. Just yank them back if they’re about to walk into a trap.” Trafin could see the relief flowing across his friend's face. “They’re a good bunch really, just need some experience and levels. We had some stone tipped arrows in storage, so Jeremy is gonna be usin’ those. You good to go now?”

“As I’m gonna be. Let’s not give the dungeon more time to add anything else.” Trafin rapped his knuckles on the sarge’s large square shield producing a faint clang with a goofy grin, “Besides I know you’re the danger magnet.”

The sarge guffawed, “That’ll be the day! Anything dangerous coming my way was because I jumped in front of you.”

“Yeah, yeah keep telling yourself that.”