With a hushed yell Crimson falls out of his bunk and into Deidra’s arms. The warrior having put down her tea just in time to catch him.
“The guard rails are becoming far less ludicrous in my opinion,” She surmises as she places Crimson on the ground. “If anything it’s more absurd not to put them up, seeing as this is the second day in a row.”
“I don’t need a crib,” Crimson confirms with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll get over it eventually.”
“Like a child outgrowing bedwetting?” Deidra suggests with a slight smile.
Crimson thinks about it for a while, before nodding in agreement.
“Pretty much,” He says. “Just with less urine.”
“I would hope.” Deidra responds with a chuckle.
Just as Deidra hands a cup of tea to Crimson, Mon bursts through the door slowly followed by Echo.
“Oh, what now!” He yells as he puts down the tea. “It’s been two days, and I haven’t even had a cup this morning.”
“Calm down,” Echo says as she sits on her bed with Mon leaning over her shoulder. “Nothing’s come up, she’s just excited about my recent idea.”
“Really? Well, that’s a pleasant surprise,” Crimson remarks, picking his tea back up as he does. “I was expecting something bad; guess I need to relax a bit.”
“You really do; we aren’t going to be going after the materials until next week anyway.” Mon explains, assuming it to be a comfort for him.
“There it is,” Crimson says with a groan. “What do you need and why can’t you get it in the armory?”
“I was hoping not to bother you with it until later,” Echo says as she glares at Mon. “But I need more rutile, the armory usually has enough but their supplier’s convoys have stopped arriving.”
“Rutile?” Deidra asks questioningly.
“It’s the one of the forms titanium comes in before we convert it,” Echo explains to which Deidra nods. “I signed us up for a job to investigate why the shipments stopped. I was planning to just take Mon and leave you two to training but…I’m not exactly in pristine condition.”
Crimson takes a glance at Echo’s bandages, the burn marks and bruising healing well but still hampering even her basic movement.
“I had assumed you were completely fireproof, shows me for assuming.” Crimson states.
“I’m resistant to it. Most flames only leave basic burns, but Fey’s are something else,” Echo says as her hands hover over the bandages. “Still better than being ripped apart though.”
“So we just need to discover the reason as to why the shipments stopped?” Deidra asks, hoping to move past the dark tone. “Not solve the problem?”
“Exactly, the job helps all the other smiths and we get first dibs on material before we leave,” Echo explains happily. “A win-win in my book.”
“So how do we find the materials once we get there?” Crimson asks.
“Duh! You have me,” Echo says as she gestures to herself. “I’ll be able to find the materials easily once we get there.”
“You didn’t say anything about that.” Mon accuses as she looks at Echo concerned.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Echo retaliates. “I can’t make anything worth anything without it and none of you could find it with six hands, a tail, and a pictured diagram. Plus, it’s not even a combat job.”
“I’m agree with Mon,” Deidra says with a shake of her head. “I don’t like the idea of you moving so soon.”
“I’ll be fine, I can walk without issue and you can just carry me if need be,” Echo explains. “If anything we’ll find a few monsters on the way and we’ll deal with it. It’s only a day or so away, so stop thinking so negative.”
“It’s cautious thinking, not negative thinking,” Crimson piles on. “We only have so much time before we leave, I’d prefer we be prepared. I’d rather not be left behind by the senior members.”
“Which is exactly why we need more materials,” Echo suggests. “It’s best I work on the gear while I heal so I can train sooner.”
After a moment everyone nods in agreement at the assessment, though begrudgingly so.
“Thank you,” She says in a chipper tone. “Once we get there you’ll see; the materials will be well worth the danger.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Never mind, I regret everything,” Echo says as she sits down on the side of the road. “I’m done walking; I think I’ll just die here.”
“Oh come on,” Mon says as she drags Echo to her feet. “Consider this your punishment for not doing anything for a full week.”
“As if you can talk, all you do is sleep,” Echo retorts. “At least I was told to take it easy.”
Deidra walks up to them, currently holding her own equipment as well as Echo’s maul.
“I believe that implies less work, not the absence of it. That and Mon always completes her own training, with time to nap.” She answers, further destroying Echo’s point.
“Bully the injured one, real cool guys, nice team you all are.” She grumbles.
Dragging himself out of his thoughts Crimson notices what looks like a building peering over a nearby hill. He looks around for higher ground he could check on but finds nothing. The dense brush along the sides of the road they were on concealing any difference in terrain.
“I’d assume that’s our destination?” He asks Echo. “We aren’t supposed to hit any other villages on the way right?”
“Yup, you can see the smoke stack of the refinery from here.” She says, hoping to remove herself from the berating.
“Good, if that’s running it shouldn’t be a major problem.” Crimson surmises.
“Yeah, probably a cave in or something,” Echo agrees. “Might have it fixed by now if they’re already up and running.”
“Let’s hope, I’m not sure I can withstand much more of your complaining.” Deidra teases as she continues walking.
“Oh please, with that armor you could survive it and worse,” Echo shoots back without hesitation. “Maybe I should complain more, put it through its paces.”
“Spare us all the misery,” Crimson retorts. “That or make a gag that works on you.”
“Let’s see where all this bravado goes when your armor needs patchwork.” Echo threatens as she walks behind him.
Before Crimson can argue Mon’s tail spikes up in alarm. “Shield!”
In an instant each of them dive behind Deidra whose shield is already pointed towards the contact. Crimson drapes his cloak over Mon and himself while Echo braces herself with her bucklers. Less than a second after Mon’s warning dozens of arrow-like objects begin to rain down on them. The bombardment continued for nearly three full seconds. As it comes to an end Crimson peeks from behind Deidra’s shield and towards the origin of the attack. On the hill they were approaching stands ten or so people huddled around a large wooden contraption, the people currently loading the contraption with more of the projectiles.
“On the hill in front of us, about 200 meters. Echo, think you can make us enough cover to get over there?” He asks, placing his goggles on his head. As well as helping Deidra don hers due to her hands being preoccupied.
“We’ll see,” She says with a grunt. “Once we’re covered, move to the brush. We can sneak up from there.”
A vibration runs through everyone and into the ground and suddenly the dirt road they’re on erupts into a dust cloud. As soon as it came the dust cloud settled, revealing now empty spaces where they once stood. Up on the hill one of their attackers quickly began barking orders at the others, the disappearance of their target not sitting well with the temperamental leader.
As Crimson dips into the brush he pulls his hood over his head, the hood quickly blending into the lush green around him. Crawling forward, he eventually finds Mon’s tail in the brush. He crawls up next to her to find her tightening Echo’s bandages.
“Just a tear,” Echo tells him, the silent message putting his mind at ease. “Deidra is about ten meters to my right and crawling. Can you check the hill?”
Crimson nods and quickly pops his head over the dense brush. His eyes quickly identifying five people searching the brush with three still standing on the hill.
“Three on the hill, five in the brush.” He says quietly.
“Ok…Mon can take out a few in the brush. Crimson, get close enough to be able to take out the ones on the hill,” She says, then looking to her right to look at the newly appeared Deidra. “Deidra, if either of them get into trouble, jump up and draw their attention. I’ll stay here and if worst comes to worst I’ll dig up the dirt and we’ll retreat back up the road.”
Each of them nod as Crimson and Mon slink off deeper into the vegetation. Deidra drops Echo’s hammer next to the smith and shifts a few meters away from her. Quickly priming herself to jump up as a distraction.
Crimson continues to creep through the brush, periodically stopping to check for noise.
Eventually he sees the foot of the hill and crouches, drawing his bow as he prepares. Trusting his hood, he peeks out of the brush now easily in shooting distance of the three still on the hill. Two of them are less armored than the one in the middle, both of them in basic leathers and holding rather simple swords. The individual in the middle was clearly the leader. Well-crafted steel covering their body, leaving few weak points as well as masking their gender. A long polearm was at their side, the tip looking similar to a large scorpion tail. The craftsmanship of the equipment rivaling Echo’s.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Opting to take out the less armored targets he pulls two arrows out his quiver and aims at the left most. He waits for a moment; looking back towards the brush just in time for one of their attackers fall into the brush, letting out a hushed scream as they do. Another one quickly follows, the leader shouts at the rest of the them to leave the brush but watches as Mon makes quick work of the fleeing targets. None of them managing to make it out.
With a twang of his bow Crimson fires the arrows back to back at the two next to the leader. Before either can strike their target the armored leader catches one in his hand and jumps in front of the other one. The arrow plinks off of the armor, having little to no effect on it. Crushing the arrow, the leader readies their spear and searches the brush for the Crimson. Crimson lies entirely still, trusting in his gear to hide him despite being compromised. Just as he thinks he’s safe his eyes lock with the leader, hazel eyes peering at him through the slit of the helm. Rage envelopes the eyes but quickly dims, confusion overtaking it. The leader’s men look towards Crimson, but before anything else can happen Deidra rears up from the brush sprinting towards the hill. Despite Crimson’s effort he blinks, accidentally releasing the leader.
Blinking away the hypnosis the leader takes one look back to Crimson before moving an empty hand in a circular fashion, without any other signal the three of them quickly leave. Crimson also begins to hear at least four other pairs of footsteps leaving with them, as well as the spark of a fire starter.
After a moment Crimson stands, semi startling Deidra as she comes to a stop next to him.
“Have they gone?” She asks, her shield still at the ready.
Crimson nods as he begins walking back to Echo.
“Surprised they didn’t fight,” He says, his guard still up. “They had us outnumbered.”
“Mon made quick work of a large portion of them,” Deidra reasons. “Perhaps they understood they were outmatched?”
“Maybe.” Crimson says, thinking back to the lightning fast movements of their leader.
Before he can delve too deeply into that line of questioning, he reaches Mon and Echo. Echo is relatively fine aside from the slight limp she regained. Mon seems to lack any injuries other than a bruised lip, her gauntlets covered in enough blood to indicate her success.
“Any of them alive?” Crimson asks.
Mon shakes her head as she flicks excess blood off the gauntlets.
“Too risky, needed to make it quick,” She says with a shrug. “They felt…almost nothing if it makes you feel any better.”
“Doesn’t matter,” He said, slight discomfort in his voice. “Any idea who they were?”
“No insignia or anything, probably just bandits,” Echo surmises. “Never thought they’d attack a Stena protected refinery.”
“The armor their leader was wearing didn’t make him seem like a regular bandit.” Crimson argues.
“Let’s search for anyone else before we make any guesses,” Echo suggests. “See what they did with the workers. There should be a group from Stena here to protect this place as well.”
Climbing up the hill, Deidra assisting Echo, they immediately see a burning pyre.
“That’s the thing they were using to fire at us,” He quickly realizes. “Why’d they burn it?”
“Asset denial,” Deidra answers immediately. “Odd thing for bandits to do.”
“All right, my theory isn’t off to a great start…” Echo mutters.
Past the burning mechanism was the refinery. Three total buildings made up the main area. A rather large bunk house with a watch tower that Crimson assumes is for the workers, the actually refinery building, and what looks to be an outhouse.
“Mon, keep your ear to the ground,” He asks as he approaches the bunk house, the large wooden door hanging wide open. “I’d prefer not to be ambushed again.”
She nods, then ironically begins climbing up to the roof to get a better vantage point.
After watching her climb for a moment, he steps through the door of the bunk house. The entrance led into a large sitting room, multiple coat racks lining the walls. Atop the racks were name plates of the workers, at least seven of them occupied by an article of clothing. To the left and right of the room were two open door ways; to the left were the bunks and to the right was a kitchen and mess hall.
Crimson peers into the mess hall and sees little in there, half eaten plates of food and a bucket of fresh water being the only indication of activity. One plate being shattered against the ground, most likely from someone dropping it.
“I’m really going to miss running water when we leave for our mission.” He says as he looks into bunk area.
Walking in he sees many of the covers on the bunks are bundled unmade, as if the occupant quickly left. Seeing nobody in the bunks he walks to the back of the room and spots a small cabinet. Deidra walks up next to him and shrugs as she pulls open the door. What greets them is bodies of two Stena Butchers slumped against the cleaning supplies. Acting quickly Crimson drags one out of the closet with Deidra moving the other, laying them on the ground softly. Crimson goes to check for a pulse but notices line like marks tracing his neck.
“What happened to him?” Crimson asks, pointing at the marks.
“Strangulation,” Deidra says, “Same as this one.”
He looks over to see similar markings on the other Butcher’s neck, hidden slightly by the man’s overgrown hair.
“Think they got them while they were asleep?” Echo asks as she walks into the room, having just left the kitchen.
“No, look at the finger nails on this one.” She says, pointing at his canine like claws.
Looking closer Crimson can see freshly dried blood underneath the nails.
“This one struggled at least,” Deidra determines. “How did they sneak up on them though?”
Having no answers Crimson stands up and walks out of the bunkhouse, looking up to see Mon hanging off of the edge of the watchtower.
“Did anyone you kill have fresh claw marks other than your own!” He yells up at her.
Hearing him she climbs back down, landing next to him with no sound.
“I wasn’t really looking,” She admits. “Want me to go check?”
Crimson nods, sending Mon dashing back to her kills.
Crimson waits for a moment, Deidra and Echo eventually walking out of the bunks with the bodies in tow. Just as Deidra sets the bodies down Mon comes out of the brush, dragging an additional body with her.
“She’s the only one.” She says as she drops the body.
Crimson kneels down and inspects the woman’s forearms. Deep claw marks still fresh in the skin.
“How long have they been here?” He asks no one in particular.
“The caravan was scheduled for a week and a half ago,” Echo informs. “So at least that long.”
“Go and check the rest of the buildings, we still have the workers to find,” Deidra says as she removes her helmet. “I’ll begin digging the graves.”
“I’ll stick with her, I’m done moving for a while.” Echo says as she sits down next to Deidra.
Crimson shrugs as he begins walking to the refinery, quickly followed by Mon. Crimson looks up at the intimidating building, the metal walls and reinforced doors giving it a bunker feel. With no windows, funneled roof, and a large smoke stack it didn’t sit well with him.
Opening the door, he was immediately blasted with intense heat, the refinery well insulated to lessen energy waste. Before he can walk inside he’s stopped by Mon’s hand on his shoulder.
“Listen.” She says as her ears flicker, looking for sound.
Doing as she says Crimson listens closely and notices a slight shuffling sound from within. He nods at her discovery and watches as she slinks into a four legged crawl. Crimson slowly draws his short sword as he waits for her move. Edging up to the door Mon waits a moment before jabbing her hand inside of the building and dragging it along the right side of the door. Her claws catch onto something and she quickly drags it out, a very startled man flailing as he’s dragged. Mon stops him in front of Crimson, the man still holding onto a rather large wrench. The man attempts to swing the wrench but its quickly kicked away by Crimson who levels his blade at the man’s throat.
“I suggest you explain.” Crimson threatens as he looks at the man.
Before either could say another word, ten more people armed with an assortment of tools come rushing out of the refinery. Crimson and Mon ready themselves but before either side can draw blood the man previously threatened raises his hands.
“Wait! They’re Stena,” He says, stopping the would be attackers. “We’re Stena…”
Crimson looks them over and notices almost all of them have smithing attire on. Sooty aprons and goggles on many of their heads.
“You’re the workers then?” Crimson questions as he lowers his weapon.
“Yeah, I’m guessing you got rid of our captors?” The man asks as he stands from his prone position.
“You didn’t look all too captive to me.” Mon says accusatorily.
“They told us to keep working or die,” The man says with a bit of shame. “We aren’t fighters, and most of us have families. Wasn’t a hard choice.”
“How’d they take this place?” Crimson asks, partially to save the man from his own embarrassment.
“Pretty sure they took out one of yours during mess time,” He explains. “No idea how they got inside, most of us just thought it was a fight until all those bandits appeared.”
“Mon, can you go get the body, the one with the claw marks?” He asks, sending Mon back towards Echo and Deidra.
After waiting a few moments in awkward silence Mon returns with the body. Crimson waves the man over and before he can ask anything the man throws up in his mouth.
“Ugh, I’m not made for this,” He says as he swallows it back down. “Why’d they have to go and kill Gin? She was such a good woman.”
“She killed the Butcher in the mess hall,” Crimson surmises. “Claw marks on the forearms, probably wouldn’t be seen as a threat. Got him by surprise?”
“No, no way she could do that. She’d been with us for nearly half a year,” He rejects quickly. “The pay we receive is more than anything a bandit could offer her. There’s no point.”
“I’m not a tracker, nor am I all too smart, but that’s the best guess,” Crimson continues. “Maybe money wasn’t the goal.”
“She wasn’t boring at least,” Mon says with a huff. “The only one that managed to hit me when I took them down.”
Mon motions to her lip as she says this, the bruise already beginning to fade. The smith goes to argue again before Crimson puts his hands up stopping him.
“Is anyone else missing?” He asks.
The smith shakes his head, causing Crimson to sigh in relief.
“Then we’re done here,” He said looking towards Mon. “Should we take them with us or what?”
“We’d like to return; we were supposed to return home last week.” One of the other workers yell out before Mon can respond.
“Then get your stuff together, pack up a caravan of Stena’s materials as well,” Crimson commands. “But make it quick, I’m not sure if those bandits will come back.”
The workers immediately begin scattering to collect the supplies. Watching them for a moment Crimson walks back to Echo and Deidra, two fresh mounds of dirt next to them. Deidra looks up to him and away from cleaning her shield as they approach.
“Do I want to ask how you did that so fast?” He asks.
“Practice.” Came her simple answer.
“I see you found the workers,” Echo says. “They coming back with us?”
“Yes,” Crimson answers. “And before you ask, they will be bringing the promised supplies.”
Echo does a semi fist pump but stops short as she groans in pain.
“Did you discover what happened?” Deidra.
“Nothing definite but these clearly weren’t bandits,” He confirms. “They wanted the workers to keep producing.”
“So a takeover?” Deidra asks.
“I guess. They knew the person who killed that hairy Butcher,” He explains. “She’d apparently been working here for a while.”
“So she was mole.” Deidra says with a nod.
“A what?” Mon questions with a confused face.
“A spy.” Deidra rewords.
“Well that makes sense, she had the right body type for it,” Mon. “Limber and quiet. Not to mention she went for a weak spot first, clearly not an amateur.”
“You have experience in being a spy?” Crimson questions.
“You don’t need to be to do what she tried but yep, Fey trained me,” She answered. “Said that’d I’d have to be able to kill silently in any environment, both urban and natural.”
“So what would you use if you couldn’t use your claws?” Echo asks.
Mon pulls out a small spool of wire from the satchel on her hip, holding it up for them to see.
“I never leave without it. An untraceable, common, and replaceable tool for quiet killing.” She says proudly.
“Well, this isn’t good.” Crimson says.
“Let’s not overthink this,” Deidra recommends, standing as she does. “Let’s return and explain our findings.”
“To who? You think one of the janitors would understand?” Echo questions skeptically. “Doubt they could understand the gravity of this, if we aren’t overthinking this that is.”
“One of the senior members then?” Crimson suggests.
“Who? I’ve never seen any of the senior members, other than Fey of course but she’s gone.” Mon interjects. “I guess we could tell Grunt or Vulture. They could probably find one of them.”
“Then we’ll do that, I’ll ask one of the janitors where Grunt is when we get back.” Crimson plans.
“Do you think they taught the other initiates what to do with valuable information?” Deidra asks suddenly. “We seem to be lacking a lot of basic knowledge about the workings of Stena.”
Each of them shrug not particularly knowing.
“I guess I’ll ask Grunt that too.” Says Crimson.
Before they can continue the workers return with a full four wagon long caravan of materials. The one who they’d mostly spoken with motions them into the wagon he was riding. Grabbing their gear, they pile into the back amongst the crates of ore, which Echo immediately begins sifting through.
“Never actually thanked you all for saving our skins,” He says as they settle themselves. “Not sure what they would have done with us if you hadn’t shown up…sorry about those Butchers. I wish there was more we could have done.”
“Yeah,” Crimson says as he glances at the graves. “Me too.”
With that somber note the conversation ends and they begin traveling back to Stena HQ. The only sounds being the clopping of horses and turning of the wheels, as well as occasional snores from Mon.