Hump stood straight and stiff as a statue as he tried his best to look inconspicuous. Considering the company, that was no difficult task.

He was in the command tent, surrounded by all the party leaders of the encampment, including those of the major guilds. These were the decision makers. The people that commanded the most men or power in this small corner of the world. They were the Chosen. The lords and ladies. Dungeon veterans that had long since established names for themselves through their efforts to clear the king’s land of monsters. Compared to them, Hump was a nobody.

Lantheer of the Silver Spears was present, Joslin of the White Peaks, and a handful of other smaller names that Hump had heard mention of in his years travelling with the old man. Gerard and Sanya were amongst them, positioned out of the way at the back of the tent.

Hump found himself grinning at the thought of the old man seeing him now at one of their meetings. A hedge wizard at best, a gutter wizard in the eyes of many others. Suffice it to say, he was in well over his head. And while he was never very good at understanding the right moments to keep his mouth shut, he was pretty sure this was one of them.

“What are you grinning about?” Celaine whispered, sounding annoyed. They were standing at one end of the large table that ran through the centre of the room, out of the way.

“Just pleased to be here.”

“Well cut it out before someone notices.”

Hump looked at her and widened his smile. “I didn’t realise my smile offended you.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about,” she said. “Does it look like they’re having a pleasant conversation?”

Hump glanced over at the gathering of dungeoneers. They’d taken up sides around the table, those aligned with the Silver Spears on one side, and those with the White Peaks on the other. They were poised over a map of the dungeon, arguing over which of the kobold strongholds were most vulnerable to attack, and by what methods.

“Oh,” Hump said. “No. They don’t look too happy.”

“Exactly. So, I suggest you stop smirking before someone gets the wrong idea.”

Hump sighed but did as she told him. She was right, of course. He needed to get on the good sides of these people. An opportunity like this hadn’t come along before, and it might never again.

Gods above, he thought. I might get into the White Peaks. He’d be set for life. How many spells would a guild that size have? He’d have battle magic for every day of the week. Hump was practically salivating at the idea when he became suddenly aware of how he was standing. He straightened up and adjusted his collar. Their spot at the end of the table was dead in the middle of both sides. They weren’t exactly surrounded by the two rivals, but it was close enough that Hump felt all eyes were on him.

Play it cool, he told himself. Nobody likes a man that’s too eager.

When Lord Oswald strode into the tent, the chatter died down. Like everyone else in the command tent he was dressed for battle. For him, that meant polished plate armour over chainmail.

Hump felt a chill run through him as he realised just how much respect the man commanded. Even here, in a tent full of young and up-and-coming Chosen and nobles, there was silence.

Entering the tent beside him was a man Hump didn’t recognise, but the pompous, arrogant smile plastered on his face told Hump everything Hump needed to know. Spoilt, noble, arsehole. Three words that were best kept separate but seemed to fit far too many people.

He was a man in his thirties, with blonde hair that put Bud’s to shame, and plate armour polished to such shine that it made Oswald’s appear dull beside him. It was no ordinary plate, it moved with his body like liquid, soundlessly, more like a second skin than armour. The metal glistened with golden swirls and runes. Hump could only imagine the enchantments that must be contained within to give it such a property. He seemed weightless, as if he were strolling around in silks rather than steel. A single piece was no doubt worth more than Hump had ever owned, though that wasn’t exactly saying much.

“About time, Oswald,” Lantheer said. He was a lithe, bushy haired man, with deeply sunken eyes. Armoured in a thick cloth gambeson and a chainmail chest piece, he carried a thick, heavy staff that seemed just as suitable for bashing things over the head as it did for casting magic. He was a sorcerer, a Chosen wielder of magic. The runes along the shaft glowed orange like the sun, making clear his fire affinity. “What kept you?” He eyed the other man up and down and scowled. “And who’s this?”

Oswald frowned at the man. “It was nothing personal, I assure you. This is Kassius Malar.” He gestured toward the man at his side, who waved cheerfully.

Lantheer’s scowl was gone in an instant. If anything, he seemed to have gone slightly pale.

“Good to meet you all,” Kassius said. “My men and I arrived last night, and I just had to meet those poor villagers before we started today’s meeting. Oswald was kind enough to escort me. Nasty business, really is dreadful.”

There was a round of introductions. Whoever the man was, everybody but Hump seemed to have heard of him, and kept their tone respectful.

Hump glanced at Bud to find the knight grimacing. “You know this guy?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, I know him. Surely you’ve heard of the Malar?”

“As in the duke?” Hump asked.

Bud nodded.

Hump paused, his eyes went wide. “Oh,” he said finally.

“He’s nephew to the king,” Bud said. “He passed through our estate, Blackthorne Hall, less than a month ago.”

“So what?”

“I’m not supposed to be here. If he realises it’s me, it will be just a matter of time before news—”

“Robert! Is that you?” Kassius called, strolling over.

“—gets back to my father,” Bud finished. Suddenly all eyes turned on him. He let out a sigh and relaxed his shoulders. “Good to see you again, Kassius.”

“It is you!” Kassius beamed. “I thought as much. What are you doing in that old armour? You had me thinking myself mad. You look like a bandit!”

Hump smirked. “Told you,” he muttered.

Bud smiled tightly, pointedly ignoring Hump. “I left in a bit of a hurry,” he said to Kassius.

“Did you now?” A sly smile crept upon his face. “What did you do? Was it that girl, Sela? She seemed to be cosying up to you. And just after your engagement was announced. Your father must have been furious!”

“It was nothing like—”

“—Ah, don’t worry.” Kassius waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve all been there. Right Oswald you old fox? Bet you’ve ruffled up a few feathers in your time.”

“You do me a disservice,” Oswald said dryly. “I’m twenty-six years married. Anything like that is long forgotten.”

“Of course, of course,” Kassius said. “I suppose that’s the way of it.”

“What brings you here, Kassius?” Bud asked. “When you left us, you were on your way to Elenvine.”

“Indeed I was, but when news of the dungeon reached me, there was no turning away. Not when I thought the good people of Bledsbury might be in need. And of course, how could I miss out on the chance to claim the king’s prize for myself. Imagine it, Robert, presenting the dungeon core to his majesty personally. Think of the honour!”

And the rewards, Hump thought dryly. This man was as fake as a stage performer. Though he could relate, what’s honour worth compared to a big bag of coin.

“And we’re pleased to have you here!” Oswald said, doing his best to hide his impatience. “Especially now of all times. May I suggest we move onto business? Time is pressing.”

“Of course, of course,” Kassius said. “My apologies. I’m here to help, we all want the people of Hursdale safe. Please proceed.”

Oswald nodded his thanks. “Firstly, I believe congratulations are in order. Vamir, you and your team have done a great service for this community. Our scouts followed the markings you left behind and believe they have found a number of tunnels likely connected to the kobold den’s inner chambers. I believe this information will be vital to our swift victory going forward. Well done to you all.”

“The kingdom thanks you,” Kassius said, clapping his hands. Others joined him around the room. “When news reaches your father, Robert, he’ll be over the moon, I’m sure.”

“Thanks,” Bud said back, though there was no cheer to his tone.

Hump scratched the back of his head and tried to look gracious as he nodded his thanks toward the applauding audience. He was never much good at these things, and that was when he was surrounded by his own people. Ordinary people. Not Chosen and nobles. Celaine hardly reacted, but Vamir appeared as though he were completely at home. He shook Oswald’s hand with an easy smile.

“Surely that’s enough of this,” Lantheer said. “Tell us why you gathered us here. We’ve waited long enough. Get on with it.”

“My, my, aren’t you in a hurry,” Kassius chided.

Lantheer clenched his jaw. “I simply don’t want to waste any more time, seeing how little of it we seem to have.”

“Then we best get on with it,” Kassius said. “Go ahead, Oswald.”

Oswald glanced at the man and took a deep breath. This clearly wasn’t going as the man had planned. Even Hump could tell that Kassius’ presence had disrupted things.

“Very well.” Oswald strode up to the table and took his place standing at the centre. “I suspect this will come as no surprise to any of you, but there are more prisoners inside the dungeon. The villagers are irate, and they’ve asked for our help. I intend to give it to them.”

Joslin sighed reluctantly. She was a tall woman, dressed in heavy armour, though unlike Bud’s her’s wasn’t spotted with rust. If the rumours were to be believed, she was some hybrid form of cleric. A large shield rested against the table leg beside her foot, decorated with three mountains with snowy peaks. “How many prisoners are you suggesting?”

Oswald paused. “The villagers said that all of Hursdale was either killed or captured. That's four hundred and eighty-three men, women, and children. I'm sure some escaped, but gods know how many were killed in the raid, but we can be certain many more are inside. Those saved yesterday had lost half their number by the time Vamir’s party reached them. If we see similar results elsewhere, optimistically, there could be over a hundred still alive inside.”

Hump tightened his grip on his staff. Hundreds of people locked up like cattle, waiting and watching their friends and families butchered around them. Their children…

“Emirai’s mercy,” Joslin muttered. She placed her palm to her heart then touched her forehead; the ritual blessing of the goddess of love and grief. “How could they have made it past our blockade?”

Oswald sighed. “If they have tunnels through the mountain pass, it would have cut the distance in half. It’s the only way they could have moved so many people without us noticing.”

“How do you propose we help them?” Lantheer said. “We’re already launching assaults at the kobold fortifications. It’s just a matter of time before we breach the inner chambers.”

Oswald unrolled a large map and sprawled it across the table, putting brass weights on each of the corners. It depicted a series of tunnels and ovular chambers, much like the map Hump had purchased from the field station the day prior, though this one had new additions further into the dungeon’s depths.

Oswald pointed at a section with three large chambers about halfway down the map. “These are our most forward fortifications.” He jabbed a finger at one of the chambers lower down. “Here is where Vamir’s party found and rescued the villagers.” He pointed at a few nearby chambers. “These are the chambers our scouts have identified as likely entry points to the inner chambers during their work last night. Below that is the speculation of our cartographers based on what the villagers recounted of their time inside.”

There wasn’t much below where Hump had already been. A series of tunnels connecting to four chambers, and a web of tunnels that veered off from them. Wherever they led, the map didn’t show.

“These two chambers are known to hold more prisoners,” he pointed at the two furthest to the bottom. “Three days ago, they each held as many as fifty. At the very least, I want to get them out.”

Joslin was frowning down at the map, rubbing her chin. “This isn’t exactly a lot to go on. I take it that these tunnels lead even deeper into the dungeon?”

Oswald nodded. “Correct.”

“Are they wide enough to launch an attack?” Joslin asked.

“Kobolds don’t like wide tunnels,” Lantheer said. “They will be single file, and too short to stand in. And every damned step will be trapped to oblivion. There isn’t a chance in hell we can launch any substantial attack down them. It is too easy to defend, and too easy to collapse a tunnel the moment our forces are noticed.”

“What do you suggest instead?” Oswald asked.

Lantheer frowned down at the map, then shrugged. “We could smoke them out.”

“Are you mad?” Joslin snapped. “That’s more likely to harm the villagers than the bloody kobolds. No. We should infiltrate the tunnels and extract the prisoners quietly. If it’s worked once, it can work again.”

“They are in the den,” Lantheer growled. “It’s suicide. And even if you got close, they’d simply slaughter the prisoners and scamper off into their tunnels.”

“We won’t take actions that will harm the villagers,” Oswald said. “Smoke is out of the question, humans will be far more susceptible to that kind of attack. The chance of a team infiltrating the den undetected is nil. There will be a fight, there’s no avoiding that.”

“There won’t be a fight,” Lantheer snarled. “The men won’t have it. You forget, Oswald, they aren’t soldiers. They won’t die for the cause. They’re here for the coin.”

“The villagers have offered up a reward,” Oswald said, but from the expression on his face Hump could tell he didn’t think that would be enough of an incentive either.

Lantheer laughed. “I’m sure they have. How many sheep are they offering? Or is it a barrel of their best wine? I’m sure we could find a man or two that would die for a few of them.”

Oswald’s frown hardened.

“You’re a Chosen man, Lantheer,” Joslin said. “Grow a pair.”

Lantheer turned those hard eyes on the woman. “Don’t push me.”

“I’m just calling it how I see it,” Joslin said, meeting the gaze without the slightest hesitation. She folded her arms, the metal of her armour clinking as she did. “There are people in need, and you’re too afraid to help them.”

“Are you looking to start something?” Lantheer growled. “There’s no need for all this prancing around. Just say it. You White Peaks are all the same. All high and mighty until the tough decisions come along. I won’t let my people go to their deaths on a whim.”

Joslin snorted. “You’ll wait up here instead, will you? Wait until we find the dungeon core then sneak in and steal it from under our noses, just like in Varbose.”

The other guild leaders added their shouts, until the entire tent was hurling insults back and forth.

Hump leant closer to Bud. “This isn’t working out,” he whispered, softly enough that just the two of them could hear.

“No,” Bud growled. Not at all. “There isn’t time for this!”

Hump’s eyes widened, and he glanced back to the rest of the room. Everyone was staring at them. “You, erm, forgot to keep your voice down there, Bud.”

The knight ignored him and stepped closer to the table. “There are people dying in there and you are arguing like children.”

There were murmurs around the room, but if anyone agreed they didn’t dare voice it. Oswald watched silently, face wrinkled.

“Remember where you stand, boy,” Lantheer growled back. “Monsters taking prisoners is nothing new. We can’t always help them.”

“I won’t stand here and do nothing,” Bud said, not turning away. “Not while there are people that need our help. We’re going to do more than wait here squabbling.”

“Then go on in there and get yourself killed,” Lantheer said. “I won’t stop you. But I certainly won’t send my people to die with you.”

“Is that it then?” Bud asked, looking around at the others. “You’ll do nothing?”

“We’ll do what we’re already doing,” Lantheer growled. “Attack their fortifications, clear the dungeon as quickly as we can, and save those we can save.”

“You didn’t see them,” Hump found himself saying without thinking. He stepped up to Bud’s side. “They were held like cattle—worse even—their cages were too small for them to stand or lie down, so they cramped inside, hugging their knees to their chests. Children, women, elderly, all locked up in full view of each other, waiting to be butchered while their friends and families watched. Then they were sent to the boiling pools, from where the stench of stewing meat drifted in. These people were trapped in hell, and there could be hundreds more of them still inside. So perhaps you could spend a few more moments trying to figure something out before deciding it’s impossible.”

When Hump finished, his heart was racing. He felt out of breath, so he forced himself to breathe deeply to try and calm down.

There was silence. Hump felt all eyes on him, and only after a moment did it set in just who those eyes belonged to. Party leaders, Chosen, Overseer Oswald, and a bloody prince.

He gulped, then said quietly. “Well, I just wanted to offer my piece, seeing as I’m here and all.”