Of course, it wasn’t only Kierla, the hard-to-understand, yet strangely peppy Elf that was joining the expedition.

  The entirety of the Dwarven woodcutter’s camp was going to be tagging along. I was told this by a very matter-of-fact Maria, accompanied by a nervous-looking Vallejo, not long after I finished meeting Kierla. Apparently, she had told the headman that our expedition had a method of not only of personally surviving the corruption, but that we had a moving caravan capable of such a thing as well. Vallejo’s wife had, accordingly, outright begged Maria to allow them to accompany us on our mission, at least until we reached another settlement, and my Captain had agreed.

  Without actually asking me first.

  At first, I thought to protest being dictated terms by my own subordinate, but…I was generally okay with this, I believe. These people weren’t going to last much longer out here, stranded in the middle of the woods as they were. They couldn’t leave the safety of their wards to go hunt and forage. I had no doubt they were going to be running through their winter supplies before long. As it turned out, their personal vegetable farming plots they had used to sustain themselves, had been outside the wards and had been lost to them with the coming of the Skyfall.

  In retrospect, not a great plan. But, to be fair, how could you ever expect a worldwide phenomenon like the Skyfall to come along and cut you off from them?

  The point being, we couldn’t just leave them out here to die from starvation, trapped within their wards as they were. Not only that, but there was no telling if their presence wouldn’t attract another mutated monster horde to their doorstep, and then they’d be truly screwed. Kierla had been their best fighter, and with her gone, they’d likely fold within hours. They’d been lucky that the monster presence in this area had been low enough up to now that a horde hadn’t stumbled upon them so far.

  To leave a bunch of innocent civilians to die in the middle of the woods, when we had the chance to save them…

  It was antithetical to the founding ideals of the Order of the Polaris Reach.

  Luckily, they had their own carts and wagons that could be added to the caravan whenever they caught up with us. It was a good thing I had ordered Marcel after us, just before the assault group had left, because we had no way of escorting these refugees back to the caravan if they didn’t either come to us, or send along some spare APDs. Nobody, myself included, had thought to bring along a sack of spare devices. In which case, I sent those same two scouts who had alerted us to this situation back to the main column to either better lead them to us or to send the magical pins along. In the meanwhile, I ordered my men to help these poor people help load up their belongings, and then joined them in the effort. Honestly, it really was only another forty or so more people, out of the thousand-plus we had in the expedition.

  Not really a big deal.

  ……………………………….

  Several hours later, we heard the rumbling of the Ashen Bride as it rattled along the dirt path that led to the woodcutters' camp. When the entire procession finally rolled into the clearing that the woodcutters' camp lay on the edge of, I felt a little gratified by the awe I could see in the eyes of the gathered Dwarves.

  Mostly, though, I was frustrated from having to argue Marcel down.

  Again.

  “We cannot feed them, Marshall,” Marcel growled, clenching his hands in frustration. I think if he hadn’t had a Status, his claws would have punched straight through his palm. As it was, he had pulled me to the side after we had gotten the woodcutter Dwarves settled into the column. After that, we had immediately set out back along the road the caravan had arrived on, and currently, we were alone in the meeting room of the Ashen Bride, where he had been ranting at me for nearly five minutes now. Visible through the small window of the land-ship, I could see the trees of the forest rattling on by, backlit by the eternal grey skies of the Skyfall.

  If nothing else, I appreciated that Marcel had saved this tirade until we were alone. It was better for morale if the men didn’t see their leaders fighting.

  “I…applaud your philanthropic nature, but you must see the bigger picture here!”

  I stifled a sigh, instead choosing to fold my hands over one another from where I was sitting at the table. Meanwhile, Marcel continued to pace up and down the other side of it. “They will not be a burden, Captain Marcel, as I’ve repeatedly told you,” I said tiredly. “They are a small drop in the ocean that are our forces. Forty more mouths will not tax our stores, especially when our scouts have been growing ever used to the realities of hunting, in our current conditions. Yes,” I raised my voice to cut Marcel off when it looked like he was going to speak again. “It is dangerous, considering the new mutants. But everything we do is dangerous. Our entire mission is dangerous, and our scouts signed up knowing that fact full well. No, Captain. The Dwarves stay. Besides, I doubt they’ll be with us forever. They’ll either be dropped off at the first amenable settlement we find or in Rhoscara when we reach it. They will not be accompanying us into battle with the Mad God...whenever that may be.”

  The older Gnoll opened and closed his mouth for a moment, visibly grasping for a new protestation, before he seemed to find one. “And what of their loyalties? They are Velancian, after all. They would betray us at the drop of a hat!”

  This time, I was the one growing frustrated. I took a deep breath before I blew up at the Gnoll, and only then spoke. “First off, Velancia as a whole isn’t our enemy,” I said with a forced calm. “The Principality is, headed by the Savoy, the Venier, and the Luminari. Your average Dwarven peasant holds no more ill will for us than I do you.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Well. That’s probably not totally true.

  “Secondly, these Dwarves are even more unlikely to betray us,” I continued. “They were completely abandoned by their own government, with the advent of the Skyfall. I find it hard to believe they’ll turn on us at the drop of a hat, like they’re the villains in some kind of…stage play, or something. As we’ve discovered, and informed headman Vallejo of, the Principality has some form of travel through the corruption like we do-”

  (And, apparently, the Elves of Sancthaven. It was still blowing my mind hours later that Alveron could just cast a Spell and protect people from the Skyfall. I guess that was a Paragon for you, even one that was undergoing Core Collapse.)

  “-and that means they abandoned the people of that camp, and likely many others, to the monsters. This does not engender loyalty, Captain Marcel. No, the Dwarves stay, end of discussion. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check up on one of our new guests.”

  I left Marcel stewing there, in the meeting room of his own ship, and I didn’t care a whit.

  It was really easy to understand just why Renauld was so frustrated with his Father. The really frustrating part, though, was that the Gnoll was a competent enough commander.

  Just a bit…callous.

  I shook it off as I navigated the wide corridors of the Ashen Bride, feeling out the connection I had with Fade as I did so to guide my path. I wasn’t even trying to speak to him, just brushing a mental finger over the bond. After all, I had left Kierla with two people that I trusted implicitly.

  I found all three of them in the galley, with Fade and the other watching on in fascinated horror as the Kierla the Elf demolished a frankly impressively sized tray of food from our kitchens. I couldn’t tell if the stares from the surrounding soldiers directed at her were from the sheer amount of fare she was putting down, or the Elf girl’s long, exposed ears. I had told her, after all, that she needn’t fear the reactions of my troops as to her lineage.

  I hadn’t been lying, either. Most people were used to the strange sight of my own mutated ears by now and had ceased questioning it. Honestly, I don’t even know if they thought she was an Elf. Maybe they just thought she was someone under a curse like me.

  Either way, I approached the trio at their table, and laid a hand on the shoulder of who I had asked to watch over her. The young man jumped, and when he looked up at me, I just smiled down at him. “Hello, Walter. How’s our guest getting along?”

  My Squire, whom I typically used as a messenger if I was being honest, blinked up at me. I hadn’t seen him in a few days because I’d assigned him to one of the squads that dealt with the monsters that gathered at our wards. The young man could do with a bit more practical battle experience, and he didn’t need me hovering over his shoulder all the time. Still, I had plans to make time for a little personal time for the two of us.

  I was just so busy these days.

  “She’s doing…well? I suppose?” My fellow former slave said weakly, before shaking his head. “She’s been eating for a solid half an hour. I didn’t think anybody could eat so much at one time, much less a girl so slight.”

  “It’s kind of impressive,” Fade piped up across our bond. “I think I’d struggle to do the same thing.”

  I shook my head at their words and cleared my throat to catch Kierla’s attention. It took me a couple of tries to get it, and when I did, she was still chewing. The Elf girl blinked her large eyes and then narrowed them at me in suspicion. She then began to stuff absolutely everything on her plate into her mouth at record speed, to the point I was worried she might just choke on it. In fact, she almost did, if not for a last-second gulp of water from her glass. Then she went right back to shoveling food down her gullet at impressive speed.

  I blinked at the feat.

  “I think I’m gonna be sick…” Walter muttered to himself, looking a bit queasy.

  “You don’t have to do that!” I said hurriedly, holding up a hand to stop Kierla. “Nobody here is going to try and take your food away from you!”

  That finally managed to stop the Elven teenager. Still, she took the time to finish the very last piece of food on her plate before addressing me. “Precursor. You…need me?” Strangely, she then lit up, looking excited. “We fight something?!”

  “Ah…no,” I said, deflating the girl. I sat down at one of the spare tables across from her and did my best to smile comfortingly at her. Unfortunately, I think I just confused her. Maybe it was the teeth? “I have a few more questions for you, if you don’t mind. Now, you said the Elder is to the east, correct? Do you know precisely where Alveron is?”

  Kierla once more tilted her head at me in a distinctly avian fashion, something I was finding was a common movement from her. Her long, almost strawberry blonde hair followed the gesture, cascading down one side of her neck. She blinked a few times, nodded, and then shrugged. “Somekind maybe. I…own this.” She said, digging in the pocket of her somewhat…ratty cloak. From it, she took out what looked to be…

  A sharpened stick.

  I blinked at her as she beamed at me proudly. I was knocked out of my confusion when Fade reached up and laid a paw on my thigh, drawing my attention. When I looked down at him, the Spirit Wolf had a strangely serious look on his face. “Nate.” He said in a faux-grim tone. “I’m going to bite you if you throw that and say fetch.”

  When I rolled my eyes at him, my Familiar lost his composure and began a chuffing canine laughter. I ignore the wannabe comedian and instead directed a strained smile at Kierla. “And that is…?”

  She blinked at me once more. “Is finding stick. Is finding things. This one, Elder. Toss up!” Kierla said, and then lightly tossed the plain, unassuming twig up into the air. I, and more than one other pair of eyes around the galley, tracked its ascent…

  And then it’s descent, when it clattered to a rest on the table top, just barely missing a dirty plate. I stared at it blankly for a moment.

  “Points way to Elder,” Kierla said smugly, pointing at one end of the stick. “See? Sharp end is where Elder is.”

  Wait.

  Now that she mentioned it, it did look like one end of the stick had been sharpened. Hmm.

  I flicked my eyes up to meet Kierla’s once more. “Do that again.”

  The Elf shrugged and did as I asked two more times.

  Each time, the stick fell in the exact same orientation, and when I realized that…

  I felt a smile cross my lips. “Do you mind if I borrow this?” I asked the girl, gesturing towards the ‘finding stick’. When she just shrugged and nodded, I picked up the fragile piece of wood and stood from my chair. “Thank you. I’ll leave you to your gorging, I suppose. But before I go…Walter.”

  My Squire straightened up in his chair, from where he had been watching Kierla immediately begin stuffing her face again in fascinated horror. “Ah…? Yes, Sir Nate?”

  I smiled at him. “When she’s done, take her to the quartermaster. She needs some new clothes.”

  At his assent, I turned and left the galley, heading for a very particular room here on the Ashen Bride.

  The navigation room.

  We had our next bearing, after all.