It did not take Oak very long to realize they would not be making it to the fifth floor before they had to stop to eat and sleep. When he reached the fourth floor landing, Oak saw that the stairs leading up had utterly collapsed.

Large chunks of rubble covered the bottom of the stairs, and only a few feet above that, there was only empty air. They would have to cross the entire floor to reach the staircase on the other side and hope that it was still intact.

Luckily, the fourth floor of the Imperial Library seemed much like the first and the third. Just endless rows of tall bookshelves filled with scrolls, tomes and books of all kinds. Oak could see groups of books walking on top of the shelves in the distance, but nothing moved close by.

Standing next to the rubble gave Oak an idea. He scooped up some rocks and stuffed them in his pockets. That tile he had thrown at one of Jarl Shaw’s carls back in Spoke had worked like a charm, and you never knew when you needed to rattle someone's skull from far away.

Ur-Namma and Geezer made it to the top of the stairs and Oak turned towards them. The elf was gasping for breath and his legs were shaking. Getting to the top of another set of stairs would have been a tough ask for the elf already, but there was no way they could cross the fourth floor if Ur-Namma was this tired.

“How are you doing?” Oak asked.

“I have seen better days.” Ur-Namma croaked.

“As you can see, we will have to head to the staircase on the other side. Something or someone has destroyed that one,” Oak said, and pointed at the collapsed stairs behind him.

“I don’t think I can walk much further,” Ur-Namma admitted. “Can we search for a place to rest our feet?”

“I was about to suggest that. There are a lot of doors leading to who knows where on the walls of the library hall. Let’s see if we get lucky,” Oak said. “I would rather not sleep in the open and wake up to find a book gnawing on my toes.”

“Me neither,” Ur-Namma said, and wiped sweat from his brow. “If it was up to me, I would like to keep all of my limbs far away from anything looking to gnaw on them.”

“Shucks. We really chose our route poorly then, didn’t we?” Oak said, and Ur-Namma cackled in response. Oak took that as a sign the elf was not about to pass out on him and ventured out into the hall.

Let’s find that shelter before I actually have to start carrying the elf.

Oak turned left and started systematically opening every door he ran across, while Ur-Namma and Geezer followed. He kept his ears open in case of any trouble, but for once luck was with him and he heard absolutely nothing.

The first door he opened was some type of small supply closet, and the second door led to a dark hallway Oak did not want to venture down, but as they say, third time's the charm.

Behind the third door, Oak found some type of large reading space filled with desks and chairs. There was even a single, working magical lantern on the wall. It was perfect. He beckoned Ur-Namma and Geezer inside and closed the door behind them.

Ur-Namma grabbed the nearest chair and collapsed into it with the type of boneless exhaustion Oak had only seen before during the war. Men could march so long they started seeing things and sleeping on their feet, falling asleep between every step. Ur-Namma was not quite there yet, but based on the elf’s expression, he was pretty close.

Working quickly, Oak took some food out of his rucksack, and forced Ur-Namma to eat something. The elf would be useless tomorrow if he fell asleep without filling his belly.

Ur-Namma grumbled, but ate the hardtack and corned beef without complaint. Having finished his supper, the elf laid down on the stone floor and started snoring immediately.

“Seems like I will take the first watch,” Oak said and threw some salted pork Geezer’s way. “Keep me company for a while, would you?”

Geezer grabbed the meat from the air and settled next to Oak. They ate in comfortable silence. Oak did not dare to disturb the hellhound too much when he was finally showing signs of forgiveness, but he gave Geezer a couple of scratches and hoped for the best.

At least the dog did not move away from him.

Some time passed, and Oak could not for the life of him keep his eyes open. He did not have the heart to wake Ur-Namma either, so he devised a solution. It did not take too long to pile some tables and chairs against the door leading out of the reading room, even if he had to mostly rely on his right hand. Oak was fairly sure nothing could open that door without creating a massive racket, and if something could manage that they were all probably dead, anyway.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

When Oak was happy with his improvised barricade, he laid down and called for Geezer to join him. They went to sleep side by side and, after a brief moment of hesitation, Geezer snuggled right against Oak’s side.

I could cry right about now. Even the dull ache of his stab wounds wasn’t able to bring Oak’s mood down. I am the luckiest bastard alive. He had not even realized how tense he had been before all the muscles in his shoulders finally relaxed. The hellhound had forgiven him.

“I love you, Geezer,” Oak mumbled. The quiet snuffling of the hellhound lying by his side was the best reply he could have gotten, and the familiar sound carried him to sleep.

***

Something warm and wet licked his face. Oak opened his eyes a tad and found himself nose to snout with none other than Geezer. The hellhound gave him one of his glorious doggy smiles and got back to licking Oak’s face.

I guess Ur-Namma was right in the end. Sometimes a good night's sleep, and a new dawn make all the difference.

Since the elf was still asleep, Oak just lay there and petted Geezer to his heart's content. The short time the hellhound had spent avoiding him had been pure torture, and he was going to enjoy this moment to the fullest extent. Sadly, all good things came to an end at some point.

Ur-Namma yawned so widely it looked like he was about to dislocate his jaw and sat up. “I am awake,” the elf declared, and rubbed his eyes.

“Nice of you to join us. You won’t believe what’s on the menu for breakfast,” Oak said.

Ur-Namma was probably about to admonish him about being more grateful for having any food to eat in the first place, when the elf noticed the barricade Oak had built in front of the door and the words died on his lips.

“You…you did not wake me for the second watch,” Ur-Namma said. “May I ask why?”

“I figured there was no point. If something could get that door open quietly, I doubt either of us would have noticed it anyway in our current condition,” Oak said. He opened the rucksack and started pulling out food and water for the three of them. “Better we slept well.”

“I can’t be too mad about this, since we are still alive, but let’s discuss these things in the future beforehand,” Ur-Namma said. “Dying because of laziness might be even worse than dying because of incompetence. At least the incompetent tried.”

“Duly noted,” Oak said. “Hardtack?”

“My favorite!” Ur-Namma shouted and accepted the package of hard biscuits.

The elf started eating the biscuits with relish, while Oak watched, utterly disgusted by the display. A good soldier hated field rations with all his heart. Not to be outdone, Geezer excitedly dug into his own breakfast.

Oak shook his head. “You are both hopeless. When eating field rations, one should emit an aura of suffering and general apathy towards life itself,” he said. “Observe.”

Like putting on a well-worn cloak, Oak settled into a slouch and pulled on an expression of utter depression to his face as he bit into a biscuit.

“Your bearing would make a child cry out of sympathy,” Ur-Namma observed. The elf stared at Oak in utter fascination. “As unlikely as it would be, do you perhaps have stage experience?”

“No. I’m a natural,” Oak said and forced down another bite. “Natural at expressing the horror of these molar breakers made of flour and water. Did you know that they sometimes don’t even add any salt to these things, and they bake them up to four times?”

The mere idea made Oak shiver.

“No, I have never taken an interest in the manufacture of field rations,” Ur-Namma said. “Have you ever considered that sometimes it's better to not know how the sausage is made?”

“Yes, yes. Ignorance is bliss. Blessed are the stupid and the incurious for what is an open mind but an open mouth, waiting for someone to shit inside of it,” Oak said.

“Now you are speaking my language,” Ur-Namma said with a grin on his face. “I love the common people and the more common they are, the more I love them.”

“Can’t form a shieldwall without em, eh?” Oak asked.

“In my experience, it is one of their best uses,” Ur-Namma said without a hint of irony.

“Considering how long you and your sister reigned, I suppose you kept those feelings to yourself.”

I don’t know which would make me more disappointed in my fellow man. If he hid such casual contempt for centuries or if he openly expressed it and people did not care a whit.

“Of course. The trick is to truly love their usefulness and express that love. You should have seen me kiss a baby during a triumph,” Ur-Namma replied. The elf clicked his needle-like teeth together and smiled like a fox.

“I can’t believe I have to tell you this, but those teeth should never get close to a baby,” Oak said. “You might get hungry and take a bite.”

Ur-Namma waved away Oak’s concerns. “I would never eat a baby. A good commoner pays taxes for over fifty years and makes more commoners,” the elf said. “A reproducing resource like that must be cherished. After all, an empire is made up of its people.”

Oak did not know if he should be afraid or comforted. Suddenly, rescuing Ur-Namma felt like a terrible mistake.

What the fuck were you thinking, Ashmedai?