Vibrations and hums of movement emerged as I broke through entering the veil of magic.

Hidden away, behind a magic powered by the highest quality pixie dust was our stash.

Several smaller tents surrounded one massive tent

Gnomes and Dwarves and Elves scurried from ends to end.

Carrying on themselves all matter of objects.

Teetering and tottering under the sheer weight of our accomplishments.

Picking up and depositing silver, gold, crafting materials, gems, and everything of value into chests which corresponded.

Everything was meticulously slotted.

Every fastidious detail was included.

Not a spec out of place.

My entrance only caused a momentary silence, a stop, and then a return to their job at hand.

Like the inside of a hive, they buzzed with efficiency.

These were our inventory cleaners.

Our accountants of the guild stash.

The ones who wrote the bill.

Telling us just how much we had to spend.

Just how much we needed to keep everyone content.

Not all raiders raided for their own needs.

Most sent home their pay to provide for their families back in town.

Our accountants over saw the monotonous.

What investments to makes.

Which items will surely rise in price, so we stock pile accordingly.

While selling off that which would tank with the coming times.

Mundane to everyone else.

To them, they saw beauty in the logistics.

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In how one bit often makes all the difference.

Making sure I disturbed no one, I maneuvered around and to the tent where the man I needed to talk to resided.

In the far back of the camp there rested a small tent with a sense of calm urgency.

One that could be felt.

One that sent prickles throughout your body.

Bracing myself

I lifted the flap and went inside.

Presiding over a stack of papers, sitting atop a simple wooden chair.

There was a giant orc with petite glasses that circled his even smaller eyes.

Watching me come in

He made no motion to stop.

So, I waited.

After enough time, he put down his quill pen, patted his forward, sighed and said:

"It's about time captain."

I know Fredrick…

I apologize for my insolence

For my lack of leadership…

Slamming a gentle fist against an oak desk much too large yet much too small for the orc accountant.

He said:

Now don't spout that drivel.

You are a leader most capable.

You just can't let yourself know that, because then it's over.

Your plight is done once you realize you are indeed enough and the man most suitable for the grandeur that lay ahead...

His words rested in the air with a weight that crashed against my soul.

He was right.

I smiled.

I had surrounded myself with great men.

I'll cut to the chase.

Where are they and who are they?

Flipping through his papers with one finger he produced a paper.

Reading it out loud, he said:

"The Baldwin Brothers...and they should be a few roads over near the town of Greatsby with a wagon of our own.

All I needed to hear…

I said as I turned to leave.

He added

Captain…

Before you allow your morality to take over.

Remember this, the amount they have stolen is no pittance.

If they go through with the deal…

Well, there's a reason for the frenzy out there.

Pointing a monstrous digit outside to the digits that moved outside the tent.

My face felt taut

Anger rose from my core.

Wrath crept across my soul.

That's more like it…

Seems like you've realized just how much this all means now…

Go get em captain...

Once out of the camp.

I dashed into the direction of the traitors.

My heart beating wildly.