Jack was reviewing the battle plans with S'haar and some of the chiefs again. They'd already gone over them a few times, but he wanted to ensure everyone knew their parts well enough to perform their roles with or without direction from himself or S'haar when the time came. He was so focused he didn't pay much attention to the clapping coming from outside the tent other than nodding to Lack'nul, who sent a guard out to see whoever was waiting outside.

However, his attention shifted when the guard reentered with Lon'thul in tow a moment later. Sitting up straight, Jack felt the pit of his stomach drop out. "Oh no! Don't tell me they're already here?"

For once, Lon'thul decided to alleviate his concerns rather than playing one of his games at Jack's expense. "Oh no, everything's proceeding as planned there. If anything, A'ngles is moving a little slower than anticipated. You were right; they're being methodical this time."

S'haar's brows furrowed in confusion. "Then why are you back so early? What other reason could you have for returning now?"

The hunter shook his head as if wondering how to word his following sentence before shrugging and just saying what he was thinking. "Because I ran into an unexpected guest who needed an escort to our camp." Then shifting to a surprisingly formal tone, Jack couldn't ever remember the hunter taking, Lon'thul bowed and drew the door flap of the tent open. "May I present, Lady Ta'miel."

In walked an elderly argu'n woman Jack couldn't recall ever meeting. However, all the members of S'haar's village bowed in respect as though she were the village lord. Even S'haar gave a little bow, though not so low or deferential as the rest, which made sense since she was more or less a village lord in her own right. Still, who was this Lady Ta'miel? And more importantly, what in the world was she doing all the way up here? Still, not wanting to seem rude, Jack stood and bowed slightly in return, though, like S'haar, his bow wasn't as deep as most of the rest.

After Lady Ta'miel bowed slightly in return, everyone resumed their original positions, and S'haar decided to voice one of the questions weighing on Jack's mind. Though he couldn't help but notice her tone and mannerism were more respectful than Jack was used to coming from her. "Lady Ta'miel, you honor us with your presence. But if I may ask, why are you here?"

The Lady in question took a seat offered by one of the guards, sitting with a surprising amount of grace for someone her age, especially given how far she'd evidently traveled. After a sigh indicating how much she'd needed the seat, Lady Ta'miel smiled and answered. "Well, I am here on behalf of several villagers who wished they could come and assist you in your time of need, as well as those they managed to win over to their side. That is to say, your side."

That didn't seem to resolve any of S'haar's confusion, as her brows only tilted inward further. "Well, as much as I appreciate the show of support, this is hardly the place for one such as yourself..."

Lady Ta'miel only smiled deeper. "Well, I find myself somewhat at odds with my husband and son's chosen hunt as of late. While I might not have much in the way of force of arms to offer, 'one such as myself,' that is to say, someone in my position, was the only person who could get past the line of warriors encircling your location. Anyone else would have been caught or turned away. As to why I'm here, I bring a present." Ta'miel waved back toward the entrance of the tent. "Back by your Arlack herd are a dozen of my own, each pulling a sled filled with spears and the armor of your design crafted by the workers back in the village, perhaps a hundred each, as well as a couple hunters eager to join the cause. Given how many argu'n I've witnessed in your camp, it might not be enough to arm and armor a significant portion of your force, but I was assured this would make a considerable difference in the coming fight."

Jack was more than a little surprised at that. If what she claimed was true, that would indeed have a considerable impact on the battle's outcome. But now it was his turn to be confused. His own brows furrowed, Jack spoke up; Angela's speakers mounted near his shoulders, translating for him now that he'd given up hiding who and what he really was. "That would be a most welcome gift! But I must ask, who are you to so casually walk through A'ngles' forces? I can't imagine simply being a village noble to be enough to pull that small miracle off!"

At that, Lady Ta'miel laughed, her voice surprisingly gentle for an argu'n. "You must be S'haar's little wizard I've heard so much about! Ja'ack was it? I'm sorry, no one must have explained this to you, and I simply assumed you'd know. I'm Lord A'ngles' bound partner."

Jack blinked a few times as he processed the information. It was a big enough bombshell that he didn't bother to correct her pronunciation of his name. Then, after a moment, S'haar leaned in to clarify a few points. "Lady Ta'miel is actually the daughter of the old Lord. It is by virtue of their bond that Lord A'ngles became the current Village Lord."

The matronly Lady in question nodded in agreement. "Indeed, and for a long while, it seemed I'd chosen wisely. Lord A'ngles led our village to unheard and unrivaled levels of prosperity while I entertained myself with my hobby of raising our arlack herd. Only recently have I come to question my choice of partner. His ambitions grew wilder and further reaching than I could have dreamed, and it all came to a head when he declared war on your little outpost. Like most, once he made his move, I expected you to be little more than a minor delay for whatever he had planned. But while village after village fell before his scheming, you've outmaneuvered, outfought, and outpaced his every move. So finally, it's come to a point where I can no longer sit back and allow things to simply unfold; I must make a choice. It just so happens that more and more that most of my favorite and most respected village members chose your side over his. You even won over the inscrutable and impossible-to-please Lady Fea'en." The older craftswoman nodded in acknowledgment of the Lady, to which Ta'miel smiled in response before finishing her thought. "It really seemed a simple choice to make."

Turning her attention back to Jack and S'haar, Lady Ta'miel shrugged. "Then, after a meeting with Jan'kul, who'd spent some time in your outpost, we came up with this little idea. He and a few workers made the weapons and armor, which I hid away in the arlack storage sheds. In the event of a battle, I'd do my best to get the supplies to you, and thus I'm here." Turning back to Fea'en, the Lady interjected, "He succeeded you as craft master, by the way."

Fea'en looked thoughtful for a moment and maybe slightly less grumpy than usual. "Jan'kul, huh? Well, you could have done worse. He's got the basics down better than most, I suppose."

Ta'miel nodded graciously. "High praise coming from you, Lady Fea'en."

Jack's mind raced to try and keep up with all the information being unloaded. If she was A'ngles' wife, could they use that against him somehow? Looking at the people from the village around him, he suspected that might be a bad idea. Still, even if they just accepted the help she offered, the extra arlack would feed the encampment for a couple days, and the weapons and armor would be more than welcome. And what of the workers back in the village? What were the implications of them acting behind A'ngles' back? Were there more rebels than just them? What would this mean for Jack and S'haar going forward if they won? What if they lost? Would they even be around to find out?

That was when Lady Ta'miel interrupted Jack's thoughts once more. "Though now that I'm here, I fear I'll have to depend on you for my security. I doubt very much that my bound partner will be quick to forgive this little transgression of mine."

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Angela sounded like she was stifling laughter as she spoke up over the headset. "I believe that's the Lady's way of asking for sanctuary!"

Realizing his best bet was to simply accept the help already offered, Jack nodded to S'haar, who answered on both their behalf. "Of course, Lady Ta'miel. A tent and supplies will be made available, though you will not be permitted to leave the camp until after everything is said and done. I hope that will suffice."

Lady Ta'miel nodded in appreciation. "That will do nicely. Now tell me, where is this young 'Em'brel' who's been getting along so well with my Sare'en? I wish to speak with her!"

That was when Lon'thul stepped back up. "I can help you track her down. Finding and bothering Em'brel is kind of a hobby of mine!"

Jack just sighed deeply as he watched the elderly whirlwind leave the tent. Of course, this didn't change their plans in any dramatic fashion, but there was still a level of refinement and adjustment now called for...

-

Em'brel peeled off her shirt and wrinkled her nose. As much fun as the chainsaw and the fire had been, everything now reeked of smoke. She almost smelled as bad as Jack after one of his exercise sessions! She'd kill for the shower back on Jack's ship. She'd consider minor violence for a good river. She might even throw a couple insults for a decent creek. But instead, she was stuck using a little water from a washbin and an old rag to give herself a bit of a wipe down, and she wasn't sure if it was doing a good enough job or if her nose was just becoming desensitized to the scent...

Of course, that would be when Lon'thul stuck his head into the tent, earning him an indignant screech and a used washcloth to the face. The hunter retreated quickly after that, but judging by the muffled laughter coming from outside the tent, he wasn't feeling too apologetic. Em'brel threw on the nearest half-clean shirt before storming outside the tent, spear in hand, to threaten the hunter. "How dare you shove your nose in my tent without permission? What have I told you about..."

That was when Em'brel noticed Sare'en and an elderly argu'n female standing with Lon'thul. It took only a moment for the teachings Em'brel was starting to think lost to kick in, and she recognized the female as noble of some status judging by her dress and stance. The younger noble was instantly aware of how she must look, her lower garments still covered in ash and smoke, her shirt rumpled from the previous day in need of a cleaning, her face and tendrils dripping water from her recent "bath," and running around waving a spear like some unhinged maniac.

There was no salvaging this moment, but that didn't mean her brain didn't insist she try. Em'brel instantly stood up straight and performed a formal bow. "My apologies Lady... um..." She looked up, only now realizing she had no idea who she was talking to.

Lon'thul grinned and winked. "Lady Ta'miel."

Oh great! This is the noble that Sare'en cared for so much. She was practically a mother to Em'brel's best friend, and here the younger noble was, making a total fool out of herself. She bowed again. Greetings, Lady Ta'miel! I apologize for my state of appearance. I had no idea we had a guest of such refinement in the camp..." That was when Em'brel stopped and wondered, why was a noble here of all places?

For her part, Lady Ta'miel politely covered her mouth to stifle her laughter before turning to Lon'thul. "You're right. You have made pestering the poor young one into an art form."

Em'brel's tendrils shook slightly in shame as Lady Ta'miel turned back to her. "Never mind dear. This isn't the meeting hall of a Lord's home. You're out in the wilderness, getting ready to fight a battle the likes of which no one has ever seen. I'd be more offended if you took the situation so lightly as to be in proper attire at any moment. So never mind all that. I just wanted to meet and speak with the good friend of Sare'en's I heard so much about until you were forced to flee into the wilderness!"

Somehow, the older female exuded calm and acceptance in such a way that Em'brel couldn't doubt her words. Of course, it helped that Sare'en was grinning in a state as close to bliss as Em'brel had ever seen her friend in. She could understand why the herder girl respected her mentor so much. Still, her current state wouldn't do. she could still smell herself, and she suspected the smell was even stronger to anyone who hadn't been working near a large fire for the better part of two days. Then there was the issue of the upcoming battle...

Turning to Lon'thul, Em'brel ignored her fleeting anger and simply asked the question on many people's minds. "How far out is A'ngles?"

The hunter's grin narrowed just a little, and he answered matter-of-factly. "Rough estimate would place him showing up later tomorrow or early the next day. So even pessimistically, you'll have most of the night to spend as you'd wish, though S'haar is ordering everyone to keep their weapons on hand starting this evening."

Em'brel nodded before turning back to Lady Ta'miel. "Then allow me a few moments to clean up at least a little more, and I'll be happy to speak with you and Sare'en over dinner."

Looking at Lon'thul again, she sighed. "And I suppose he can come too if you wish..."

Lady Ta'miel bowed slightly as she answered. "That would be lovely." Then turned to speak with Sare'en as Em'brel walked back into her tent to finish cleaning up.

-

Vox'thon had been quietly listening to B'arthon give orders all day. According to their scouts, Jack and S'haar were waiting for them in a large clearing with a sizable force. Estimates still placed them at less than half the force B'arthon commanded, but the noble wasn't leaving anything to chance. He'd spent the better part of the day issuing orders and battle plans and ensuring a clear line of command, with contingency plans for who would take charge of what if he and A'ngles were somehow disabled in the middle of the battle...again.

Finally, it was time to rest, but Vox'thon's mind was still a whirl of emotions. Fear, sadness, stress, anxiety, and even a little anger. This whole war was stupid. Why couldn't her father just let them go? Even if their empire was a problem eventually, it probably wouldn't be until after he was dead and gone. For that matter, why couldn't Jack and S'haar just join her father's empire? It might not be exactly what they were looking for, but it wasn't that different in the big picture. And what should she do about it? What could she do about it? There was only one thing she could think of, but it would come at a high cost, and she didn't even know if it would make a difference...

As B'arthon settled in for what would probably be a sleepless night, Vox'thon powered up her speakers to speak with him, but she couldn't think of where to start, so she just blurted out the first question that came to mind. "Why...why are you so eager to die for this empire?"

B'arthon's eyes snapped open, and he turned to look at the AI next to him for a moment before answering. "Now, that's a heavy question! What brought that on?"

Vox'thon paused momentarily before answering to let his brain process what she was about to say. "It's just that you seem so determined to rush into this battle, even knowing there is a good chance you won't survive. Why are you so eager?"

Settling back down, B'arthon took a moment to answer, indicating he was taking her question seriously. "That's not as easy to answer as it might seem. There's no single straightforward answer, but I suppose it comes down to this. A long time ago, I learned the importance of unity of purpose. I have a chance to bring that unity to my people, and Jack is the last obstacle to that unity. He proposes a future of chaos and individual motivation rather than a single sense of purpose. He may be trying to build a better world, and I can respect that, but quite simply, his ideals are flawed. If we win here and now, there won't be a real threat to our people for generations to come. To that end, I'm willing to risk everything."

The AI processed this information. It wasn't anything new, but he was at least getting better at distilling the idea. Now she came in with her next question. One that was indirectly related to the one that was really bothering her. "Would you...die to save me?"

This time B'arthon remained quiet for a noticeably longer moment. If Vox'thon's sensors didn't tell her differently, she might worry he'd fallen asleep on her. Then, finally, he took a breath to answer. "That...is not an easy question to answer honestly. I know you think of me as your father, and I would like to say what any good father would and just say, 'Yes, I would,' but the real answer is I don't know. That question is impossible to answer outside of the reality of the moment. I can decisively say I would risk my life for yours, but to throw it away on demand is something different. If someone were standing over me, blade in hand, and demanding I surrender my life for yours, as much as I'd like to claim I'd answer without hesitation, if I'm honest, I suspect I would have to take a moment to think, and I'm not sure what my answer would be."

He then raised himself back onto his arms and turned to Vox'thon. "Why do you ask these questions? What is really bothering you?"

Vox'thon went quiet herself as she contemplated how to answer. "I guess... I guess I'm just worried that after tomorrow, there won't be any answers to be had..."

B'arthon sighed and shook his head as he fell back into place again. "That is indeed a risk, but that could happen any day, at any time, though I suppose you are right. After tomorrow, many people's questions will go unanswered."

Once again, Vox'thon went quiet as she contemplated her options.