When the king of Nerlia had declared war on the elves in their forest, and later the king of Cernlia had joined him, he might have thought that the Delvers would be the first to take up his banner. Certainly he would have thought that they would flock to join his army and offer their swords to his cause. After all, it was common knowledge that the Delvers disdained anyone who did not have pure human blood, be they demihumans or civilized folk like the elves, or even the very rare halfbreed.

If he was in the king’s shoes, Owin mused while staring into the fire, he probably would have thought the same. The details of the Delvers’ beliefs and attitudes were generally not very clear to the uninitiated. Which might, a part of him admitted, be because they were somewhat ambiguous, uncertain and even contradictory, in some cases. In any case, Owin thought that the king must have been disappointed.

The Delvers had had arrangements with the elves, ones that had actually lasted quite a long time, all things considered. Perhaps that had been inevitable, given how likely they were to come into contact during delves. The Delvers had not been particularly eager to fight and bleed against them for the benefit of a grasping king.

Of course, there was more to it than that. He didn’t follow politics closely, but he knew there were schemes and alliances in play. His people did have some political clout in Nerlia, even if it was perhaps less than in Cernlia. Not that they could influence the Cernlian king, he imagined — he’d heard others complaining about his general intransigence often enough. Perhaps that was simply spite.

But now here he was, sitting in front of a campfire a very short distance from the soldiers of the Nerlian army. Owin sighed, staring into the fire, a little morosely. How did he even end up here? It was certainly not because he’d wanted to. But while his standing in the order might be nothing to sneeze at, he still was not among those who made the big decisions. More’s the pity, he thought, then shook his head at himself. He did not want to be among the politicians and diplomats. Give him a fight or an exploration mission any day, or even a stint working with the marvels in their workshops; he much preferred that to trying to weasel around slimy merchants or nobles. And the upper echelons of the Delvers were more politicians than he would have liked, even if he knew they couldn’t all be simple fighters.

“Are you still brooding?” A playful voice ripped him from his thoughts. He looked up to see Gwen sitting down and giving him one of her looks. “It’s a nice day, Owin. Do you want to spend it sitting here and moping about your oh so unlucky situation?”

He gave her a rueful smile. “I suppose not, Gwen. Thank you for interrupting me. I don’t know how I would have ever noticed the nice weather without you.”

She snorted lightly, leaning forward to punch him on the shoulder. Owin turned away a bit, not enough to completely escape the blow, but to send it glancing off his arm. It didn’t hurt, since her strength was not very much compared to his Constitution.

“Do you want the next battle to start already?” Gwen asked. She now looked thoughtful all of a sudden, too. “I know some of the others do. Many are getting frustrated with all these sneaky, hide-and-seek tactics the elves are using, the skirmishing and the way they’re keen on harassing us without giving battle properly.”

“Well, we are in a forest, Gwen,” he pointed out reasonably. “Of course we are not going to have field battles the way we might in an open, well, field. But no, I’m not craving the next battle. Despite what people may say, I am really not a battle maniac.”

She sighed softly, and he quickly straightened his expression and made sure it wouldn’t give his thoughts away. Despite her put-on cheer, he knew that she actually liked fighting in this war even less than he did. Unfortunately for her, as someone with a rare and combat-oriented Class like hers, she had little chance of getting out of it.

“Look at it this way,” she said, and he felt like she was talking to herself as much as to him, “at least you don’t have to put up as much with some of the others who are more enthusiastic about this, and keep volunteering and going out.”

“Right,” he agreed, stifling a chuckle as he thought of a few others she might mean. “I guess Egon and his ilk have been acting a bit differently recently.”

“Hmm.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “Sure, I was thinking of some other people, though. He’s not that bad, really, compared to a few men I’ve met back at headquarters.”

“Really? I suppose you do know him better than me.” He’d only met the man a few months ago, and they hadn’t even been on a mission together, so far.

“Well.” She uncrossed her arms and shrugged. “Egon Trito is a true believer, no mistake about that. But he is still reasonable about it. At least in most cases. I would not trust him to hide his disdain of demihumans, but he would not just attack whoever he meets, I don’t think.”

Owin nodded. That described quite a few of his fellows, really. It felt a little uncomfortable to hear her talk like this, however. Even though he had been the one who had gotten the ball rolling in her questioning the Delvers’ traditional views on some things. She had been as bad as how she described Sir Egon when she first joined them as a bright-eyed young woman. Which was, granted, less than ten years ago. By now, the way she talked about another Delver made him think she had gone farther than he might be comfortable with, and almost certainly farther than was wise.

“Don’t look at me like that, Owin.” She sat up straighter and frowned a little. “I still believe in us, in what we should stand for. I still strive to remember and respect what our people did and lost. I just don’t think we can blame today’s demihumans for what happened so long ago.”

Owin sighed. He just couldn’t argue with her. “Alright, I’m sorry. Not that I actually said anything …” he mumbled.

The sharp look she threw him made him suspect she still caught his words. But then the sound of footsteps quickly coming closer captured his attention. He turned around and rose to his feet right away when he noticed the second in command of his squad, Joren, approaching them. He did not like the look on his face.

“Sir, the Commandant has called a meeting.” He came to a stop and nodded respectfully at Gwen before facing Owin again. “You are required to attend. You both are, I’d presume. It looks like there may have been some news.”

Owin exchanged a look with Gwen and quickly patted his side, ensuring he still had his dagger. Then he also gave himself a once-over, glancing at his jerkin, and decided he was presentable enough for a meeting. If they wanted him to attend in fancy dress, they should have given him more notice.

The two of them quickly made their way to the pavilion where the meeting was going to be held, the same as several briefings they had attended here before, mostly together. Owin didn’t really care much for being a leader of men (and some women), but since he had reached his second Class Progression, it had been hard to avoid. These additional demands were just one more reason why he disliked the recent developments.

The camp was unusually quiet around them. It might be due to the time of day, or perhaps the way the war dragged on was wearing on the soldiers. They all sent him and Gwen curious glances, but they didn’t interfere or try to stop them. They would be able to tell that the two Delvers had a relatively high level, and they were obviously not some common soldiers. Owin still looked around, trying to assess the state of the camp. It was relatively orderly, but the tents and even a few simple huts weren’t set up quite in straight lines everywhere. The campfires were rather big, considering their location, but also still some distance away from any trees, and trying to hide the camp’s position would most likely be futile, anyway.

Owin saw people of several nationalities. A few of them might even be mercenaries from further away. But there were essentially no demihumans and no one of any other humanoid race, of course. They weren’t likely to join the human kingdoms in this war, but that suited him just fine. There were a few clerics of various gods, and even what might be paladins or the like. Owin kept well away from them and had no intention of getting near them in the future, either, although he kept his expression bland and neutral. Beside him, Gwen did the same, but he knew she would feel the same way.

When they finally arrived and entered the Commandant's pavilion, he greeted them with his usual boisterous manner and broad smile. Owin nodded at the others gathered around the conference table, his smile fading away when he saw the senior Delver he had just been talking about, engaged deep in discussion with the Elite Blade of Light. Sir Rodrick was one of those men who seemed to combine all the worst of the Delvers’ philosophy and the outside world. For Owin, it was apparent that no Delver should uphold the rampant misogyny plaguing the latter, but somehow, he seemed to manage it.

“Forgive me for speaking up when I’m both junior and the last to arrive, Commandant,” Gwen said when it seemed like no one was going to start the meeting, “but may I ask why you have called us here? I’m sure the others are wondering the same.”

Owin nodded in agreement, as did a few other people present, and looked at him expectantly.

The Commandant cleared his throat. High level did not equate leadership positions within the Delvers, but it did correlate, and according to the rumors, he had risen from a similar position as Owin. He didn’t seem entirely comfortable being the center of attention. But Owin also knew from experience that he would do his job competently, anyway.

“Of course, I’m sorry for the short notice,” he responded. “Actually, I just came from a meeting with the General, and we’ve also recently had some troubling intelligence reports. I hope you are all familiar with the issue of members going missing while delving under the forest?”

Someone snorted softly, though Owin hadn’t been looking in their direction and wasn’t sure who. “What did Eric and his men get into this time?” Rodrick asked. “Don’t tell me the idiot got another squad lost or stirred up some monster nest?“

Owin frowned to himself. The man hadn’t really struck him as an idiot, for all their points of disagreement. But he wasn’t surprised Rodrick talked this way. In the first place, going down into the tunnels this close to a war being fought, and one they were participating in, was a foolish move. And assignments to the cave system or to search for people who had probably wandered off and gotten lost, or been eaten by some monsters with little evidence remaining, did not go to the people you wanted to shine or to rely on. The unfortunate had probably messed up considerably or angered someone important. Like Sir Rodrick (loathe as he was to admit it, but that seemed like something the twit would do), or even the Commandant.

“I wish it were that simple.” The Commandant shook his head. The lines on his face somehow seemed deeper than normal, and his hair to have more gray in it. “We have not had any sign of the squad that first went missing, although the elves’ movements have changed - as we previously discussed - in the area around this time. What our Seer has seen is, shall we say, not promising. The second team also failed to report in.”

Owin grimaced. Someone with a Seer Class was a strategic asset, one of the most valued ones for the Delvers. His predictions lacked some specificity, but his information was always good, even if gathering it had severe limitations.

“In any case, this is only part of what concerns me,” the Commandant continued. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind any of you of the rather, ah, spontaneous Nerlian movement in the direction of where the scouts say the new demihumans’ nest is. Which is, let me remind you, close to the entrance our squads must have used. They are certainly involved, that much has been seen.”

“So, they’ve survived this far?” Gwen asked. She leaned forward a little, looking intently focused. “This is leading up to something, isn’t it?”

Their leader nodded and even spared her a small smile. “Indeed. Either we previously underestimated the degree of their attachment to the elves - and vice versa - or recent events have changed it. The elves appear to have sent them troops, and, as it turns out, those were not only for defending their territory.”

Owin frowned. He’d heard of most of this already. Then he blinked as he realized what it must mean, but he managed to keep his silence and let the Commandant continue. An attack?

“We just received a communication from Cernlia,” he continued. “Apparently, the alarm in their defensive outpost closest to the forest and the elves’ city here has been triggered. There was no follow-up information, and, in fact, no one has managed to reach them since with any of the enchantments they might use. This only allows one conclusion: They have been attacked, and have likely lost the ensuing fight.”

There was a short silence in the room as everyone digested this news. Owin looked at the other senior Delvers he was familiar with, seeing his own concern mirrored in their expressions.

“Considering how you led into this information, Commandant, am I correct in assuming that you believe the demihumans and elves are behind this?” he asked.

The Commandant nodded. “Precisely. The elves are almost certainly involved in some form. They might have decided to attack alone, but I also wouldn’t discount the possibility of the demihumans being involved, considering the reports I mentioned. They are also both closer and presumably more expendable to the elves than their own soldiers, so I would assume that they would have tried to use the demihumans or at least get their help for such an operation.”

“The elves aren’t really known for that kind of vicious pragmatism,” a senior Delver who’d come in armor and looked like he’d arrived straight from a patrol objected.

“They’re also not cuddly idealists, or we wouldn’t be getting our butts kicked this often,” Rodrick retorted.

The Commandant raised a hand to stop the argument before it could devolve into bickering. “You both have a point, but I was only speculating. We certainly don’t know their motivations or reasoning for sure.”

“Are we going to try and find out what happened?” Owin asked. “I assume the Nerlians want to send scouts, right?”

He nodded. “The Cernlians will certainly react as well, and they’ll be first, since they’re closer. Still, I would prefer not to be blindsided or to have to rely on the generals’ information. I intend to pick several people to send to gather more information.”

“As scouts or with other means?” someone asked.

“Both are possible, but the latter would likely be safer.”

Owin suppressed as sigh and popped his back as the discussion continued, the gathered Delvers debating several people and the merits and disadvantages of getting them to gather information.

His gaze crossed Gwen’s, and the way her eyebrows shifted fractionally almost made him smile. This was an important development and it might herald a shift in the war, but right now, he knew they were both thinking the same thing. This was going to be another long meeting.