"Cal! Elena!" Jaxon's bellow sliced through the open door, a note of panic lacing the urgency in his voice. Jabor echoed him, their calls dragged Cal from his thoughts and Elena from her meticulous inventory of newly acquired knowledge.

"Out here, now!" Jabor's command was sharp, edged with an undercurrent of barely restrained stress.

Cal exchanged a glance with Elena, silent communication passing between them—a nod, a tightening of lips. They moved in tandem, Cal's hand reaching for the hilt of a concealed blade while Elena's fingers brushed against the quiver strapped to her back.

The door swung open.

"Take a look!" Jaxon's voice cut through.

"Jaxon, what happened?" Elena's voice sliced through the cacophony, demanding answers.

"Attack," he replied tersely, gray eyes flicking towards the wounded. "Look over there.” He pointed to the distance.

Cal could see the makings of a group. A large group. They set up camp on the wall a close distance. Between them and Cal there was the lava lake. Perhaps that was the only reason they hadn’t ambushed them yet.

Jenna's form tensed, her fingers curled at her sides. Her chest heaved with the rapid breaths of a caged beast ready to pounce. "Cowards," she spat, her voice a venomous hiss that seared the tension-laden air.

"Easy, Jenna," Jaxon warned, stepping forward with Jabor flanking him. Cal could tell that they knew the signs of her wrath all too well. Muscles bunched like coiled springs, they were readiness embodied, prepared to thwart the tempest brewing within her.

"Let me at them, I’ll give them what they deserve for poor Joe!" Jenna's snarl was a serrated blade, threatening to cut through reason and restraint alike.

"Jenna!" Jaxon's command was brusque, his hand clamping down on her shoulder with an iron grip. Jabor mirrored the gesture, both brothers anchoring her fury as firmly as if she were tied to the earth itself. "We can't afford more bloodshed. Especially not against so many."

Through the crowd, a figure emerged. Tobin Rill, his red hair camouflaged in the lava light, advanced with hands raised—palms open, fingers splayed. His eyes sought theirs, reflecting a calm that bordered on the edge of a storm.

“I’m here to talk.” He said.

"Talk, Tobin," Jaxon barked, his stance unyielding. Jenna's fire simmered beneath the surface, her every muscle straining against the brothers' hold.

"Words before weapons," Tobin intoned, his voice carrying the weight of hard-earned wisdom. "I come alone. No traps."

"Your presence is trap enough." Jaxon's reply was laced with skepticism, but he did not move to strike.

He made his way over by the cliff face. Crossing the narrow path to the cave entrance.

"Listen," Tobin continued, each syllable deliberate. "The wolf horde—"

"Spill it!" Jenna snapped, though still restrained, her rage a barely contained inferno.

Tobin looked skeptically at the new member of the team then turned to Cal. “We are hurt after facing the scouting party and the first wave of wolves that followed. Most of the teams here just want to survive this and get out.”

"I know your brother is dead. But mine are dead as well," Tobin finished, locking eyes with Jaxon. "I'm here for parley, not war."

"Parley?" Jaxon echoed, his expression granite. "After all that bloodshed?"

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"Because of it," Tobin said, lowering his hands slowly. "There's a path forward, one without further loss."

"Speak your piece, then," Jaxon grunted, his gaze wary.

"Peace," Tobin murmured, almost to himself. "That's the aim. Always has been. Carrying those treasures, you summoned danger. You all should know how this works. You’re a target, and you were weak… At least that was what we thought…" Tobin said, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "I warned of the weight it would bring, the eyes a treasure would attract. Now look at what’s behind me. I didn’t want this, but a mob can’t be controlled, it can barely be directed."

Jaxon's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. "Warnings? You call that ambush a warning?" he spat out, venom lacing every word.

"I gave you a way out. I could’ve prevented all of that. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been another party," Tobin replied, his stance firm yet open, seeking understanding where there was none. "But valuable things draw bloodshed as honey draws flies."

Jenna, still quivering with barely contained wrath, threw a scornful look at Tobin. "And you're the fly now, aren't you?" she hissed.

"Enough!" Jabor growled, stepping forward, his silhouette bulky and menacing in the waning light. "We should end this talk and start with—"

"Easy, Jabor," Cal interjected sharply, his blue eyes scanning the faces around him, searching for calm amidst the storm. "Violence breeds only more of the same. Let’s hear this out before we wage war with them."

Elena nodded, her violet eyes reflecting the flicker of the lava below.

Greg, having just arrived, caught between Jenna's fury and the need for reason, stepped up, his scholarly demeanor a stark contrast to the warriors around him. "I’ll just stand over here. Out of the way." He stood next to Jenna, whispering something to her, obviously questioning the situation.

"Conflict is the shadow of desire," Tobin said, his green eyes holding each of theirs in turn. "I seek no harm. Only safe harbor and access."

"Access," Jaxon echoed, the word bitter on his tongue. "Access to what?"

"Don’t play games," Tobin replied, his voice low. "The avians had one. I know the cervidians were saving mana crystals to plan their exit. We want to teleport out, and some of us are willing to pay for passage."

The standoff hung heavy in the air, pregnant with the possibility of peace or the certainty of blood.

Cal's gaze drifted to the cluster of wounded in the crowd. They were wounded, but their eyes showed greed. Some showed fear. He leaned in, his words for Elena alone. "The wolves – and that was the first wave." he muttered tersely.

Jaxon's brow furrowed, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth despite the gravity of the situation. "Teleporter?" he scoffed, arms crossed in defiance. "You think if we had such power, we'd be standing here parlaying with you?" His gray eyes glinted with scorn. "Check your sources. The dead had nothing on them. No devices. No tricks. Just cold flesh and crystals."

“Ha. HAHA. HAHAHA. Fuck you Tobin. Why the fuck would we have a teleporter? The cervidians didn’t have a teleporter, they just had a pile of crystals.” Jabor added, fire in his eyes.

A muscle twitched in Tobin's jaw, his hands clenching and unclenching as if grappling with invisible foes. The encampment was still in the distance, all eyes fixed on the two towering figures.

“I think I know why.” Temp suggested.

Tobin shifted, his boots scraping against the stony ground. His face was a mask of controlled anguish. Every muscle in his body seemed coiled, ready to spring or collapse.

"Once, I had brothers," Tobin's voice broke through, brittle like thin ice. "They're dust now, because I couldn't protect them— you killed the cervidians, didn’t you?"

Jaxon looked on, stoic.

"Nothing?" Tobin's question was almost a whisper, disbelief and frustration warring within him. "Then what was the point?" He stood there for a moment, a warrior robbed of battle, his red hair like a flame extinguished.

“No matter. If you don’t give me something as concession, there will be war. I have no reason to believe you, and neither does the rest of the encampment.”

With no words left to broker peace or incite war, Tobin turned away. His departure was a silent storm, each step heavy with the weight of consequence. His frown etched deep lines into his face, a testament to the disappointment that clawed at him.

Suddenly a glint of a blade appeared and an assassin covered head to toe in bandages appeared behind Jabor. Jenna responded instantaneously and punched the assassin off the cliff. He fell face first into the lava pond below.

“Fuck those guys. I really needed that.”

The crowd seethed at the violence, and prepared their weapons for war. Cal could see the mana, silver rivers, gathering in the distance.

The night seemed to hold its breath as Tobin's silhouette merged with the shadows, the sense of his presence lingering like a ghostly afterimage. There was no other choice, his retreating form seemed to say, no other path but this confrontation. And as the space between them grew, so too did the chasm of unresolved tensions, ready to swallow them whole.

[Escalation, stage 2: Survive the entrapment of hungry predators. Time limit: 150 hours]