Cherna didn’t have a lot. Moving her was more a matter of navigating the tunnels and showing her around their home. Deli and Frank’s house was made of thick stone, like most houses in Blighttown. With the light runestones Frank had scattered around the rooms, it was “Lit up as a noble’s home” as Cherna put it.

The bottom floor held the pantry, a kitchen/common room, and a closet for clothes, armour and weapons. The entry way was built somewhat like an airlock, with double doors and a cramped pass through the thick wall, that served as an extra cold room during winter. The top floor was a big living room/communal bed room type thing, with a work room in the back for crafts.

Cherna didn’t mind laying out her bedroll next to the fireplace. Most of her day would be underground anyway, caring for the gardens in the basement and tunnels. She’d be taking over from another Grower. Some kind of trade of territory and responsibilities was involved, but Cherna told Frank she’d take care of that.

“They’re my duties, my worries. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble.” Frank had told her.

“Then don’t meddle.” She’d rebuffed, acting more like herself.

Frank let it go after that. He felt watched, judged as he did. Some kind of custom was involved, but he wasn’t that familiar with all of them to remember which one off the top of his head.

Of course, just as they were done with helping Cherna move in, Lilijah dragged Deli and Frank to her house, to pick up her cousin. There she got into a loud argument with him. His name was Klar. It was easy to pick up on, when Lilijah was berating him loudly enough to hear from the other room.

It was while they were fighting that Frank finally realised that Deli was not the exception, in her attitude towards parties. Brar was.

“She’s moving in, isn’t she?” Frank asked to confirm, already resigned to it.

“Of course.” Deli replied, as if it was normal, expected. “Parties stick together.”

“What about Brar?”

Deli frowned. “I’m unsure. He may consider this winter a test- a way to see if we work well together. Or have other plans for spring. It would be best to ask him that.”

The answer wasn’t pointed, but Frank still swallowed a wince. “Obvious answer is obvious.” He was just used to asking Deli about her culture.

“You don’t need to let her treat you like dirt anymore!” Lilijah shouted, angry.

There was a pause, a soft male murmur.

“What do you mean you like it!?”

Ah, embarrassed surprise. That at least was a more familiar type of talk. One less likely to end in real bad blood.

Frank and Deli looked at each other. “I think we’re going to be here for a while.” Frank told her, to which she shrugged.

Deli was still tired from her training, and walking around hadn’t helped. They took to their crafts, Frank carving away, and Deli weaving. It was something to keep their hands busy, while they talked.

Speaking softly, Deli dropped a bomb on him after a bit of small talk: “When were you going to tell me you wanted to learn how to call up demons, Frank?”

His chisel slipped. “Oh boy.” It was fortunate this was just for practice, not for real, or it would have blown up.

Frank had meant to talk to her about the demons.

Eventually.

He considered how to answer, and how to frame that answer. “Probably once I knew enough to be able to prove I wasn’t a danger to myself, or others. With that in mind, likely after we left Blighttown.”

“You honestly thought you could hide this from me?” Deli asked, exasperated with him.

“Uh, yes?”

She shook her head. “Why? Why conceal this?” Unlike the previous questions, this one was weighty. Meaningful.

Frank gave the question the consideration it was due. How to best explain his interest in demons…

“I’ve already had this talk with Kierulf the Deathless.” He began.

“And lived to tell of it. That’s a good start, but not an answer Frank.” Deli insisted.

A chill went down his spine at how casually she’d implied Deathless could have had him executed over a bit of curiosity. “Why are demons such a big deal anyway?”

“The Captain suspected me of hiring the spy to steal some manuscripts.”

The immediate reaction from Deli was outrage, but it was followed by a wince. “Go on.”

“Empire plots.” Frank understood. He didn’t like the reputation his nation of origin on this world saddled him with, but he understood where it came from.

“Look, there is a cycle to everything.” Frank began. “Start with something simple. Like snow.”

“Let’s take snow, water. Water falls from the sky, as rain, or snow. It flows into streams and rivers, and eventually, into lakes, or seas. There’s the whole groundwater cycle as well, but let’s not complicate things.”

Deli nodded along.

“But where do clouds come from?” Frank asked, hypothetically.

“From the north and south, mostly.” Deli answered. Her answer was the both practical and likely true. It also completely missed the point.

“Right, But where do those clouds come from? They have to come from somewhere.”

She shrugged. “From further away? Perhaps there is some river that flows into the sky, somewhere.”

Frank shook his head at such an answer. It was silly. Not impossible, not in a world with magic, but not sensible either.

“Well, when the sun is bright, or the air warm, water evaporates Deli. It turns into mist or fog. Like steam from a cookpot. The water gathers in the sky from all over, from rivers, lakes, plants, even our breath. The steam rises into the sky to eventually become clouds. Clouds that then turn back to rain or snow, when they hit cold air again. We call this the water cycle.” Frank explained.

This was harder for her to accept, from what he could tell. “It’s a fancy dream.” She denied. “And only that.” was clearly implied.

“No. Deli this is not a theory. Not a Legend or a story. It is how water works. We know that is how it works. It can be demonstrated, proven, modelled in miniature. The whys of rain and snow, of glaciers and rivers, understood by mortal means. That’s important.” he insisted.

“Understanding the natural world is how we manage it, predict it.”

“Next you’ll say you can predict the weather. It’s a silly claim Frank.”

“If we had enough people working together? We could.” Frank told her frankly. “But that’s neither here nor there. It would take the backing of an Empire High Noble, or one of the local Confederation Kings for something like that to get off the ground, and be the effort of decades. Not relevant for this talk. What matters is that it can be done, if we know what we are doing. If we understand the world we live in. That’s the whole point of natural science.”

“Science?” She asked, as if hearing the word for the first time.

“The Sciences are a series of Logic Skills, like Smooth, or Grace are for Agility.” Frank elaborated. At least, that was the best way to fit them into her reference framework.

Deli’s eyebrows climbed in disbelief. “Frank, Smooth is an advanced Skill, and Grace an Artform. Are you claiming these Sciences are the same, but for Logic?”

She didn’t believe him. Or more like, she didn’t understand enough to disbelieve him, but wanted to. To her, Science wasn’t a real word. And Artforms did not come quick or easy.

“How do I explain? Examples, you need relatable, easy examples Frank.”

Frank went over everything Deli and he had talked about, trying to dredge some up.

“Give me a moment.”

His carving forgotten, he went over many talks on gestures, bonds, debts, obligations, laws. Legends and stories too. There Frank found something he might be able to use.

“You know the difference between Building and Construction? From the ‘Epic of the Broken Sun’?” Frank asked.

“Yes. Building is for homes and tunnels, farms and gardens. Construction can raise bridges, turrets, castles and city walls. Channels too?” Deli replied, a bit unsure at the end. “Letting a Builder work on what should have been left to a Constructor led to disaster.”

“Right. And the clever man, Rogulf the Rock Thrower, he had Siege. It let him build machines that could throw bolts or stones further than any regular warrior.”

“Yes?”

“Both are advanced Skills, like Smooth, or Quick.”

“Yes.”

“Well, like Grace would cover both Smooth and Quick, so Physics would cover both Siege and Construction. What Siege and Construction do, is built on a base of principles covered in Physics. Momentum, force, gravity. It would take a bit longer, to work it out from first principles. The result wouldn’t be ideal, not perfect, and we’d need some Engineering as well for the practical aspects, but the Sciences are, at their base, on the level of Artforms. Or so I believe.”

Deli was still sceptical.

“Deli, I know enough Physics to probably cobble together a working rock thrower, and I don’t even have the Skill.”

“Let’s say these are real, let’s say they exist.” Deli allowed, begrudgingly.

Frank tried not to feel offended at that. She didn’t know any better.

“Why bring them up, here? I was asking about demons, not walls.” Deli brought the talk back to the beginning.

“Ecology. It is my Science, my Art. What I am, what I trained and studied for years, before becoming a Hero. It is the study of life, in all its forms and expressions. Including monsters and demons.”

Deli gave him a sharp look. “If so, why would you need to learn of them now? Shouldn’t you already be a Master, or at least journeyman, Frank?”

He winced. Weighting how much to share, and what not to. Lilijah and Klar were still going at it in the other room.

“I am. But my lessons focused more on animals and monsters, not the dead or demons. The cycle of souls, how we come here, where we go, wasn’t part of the curriculum.”

Deli looked confused. It took Frank a moment to go through that sentence again. “Not covered in my lessons.” He re-phrased.

She huffed. “Well, there’s good reason for that. Gods and Priests tend to our souls, not mortal masters. When common women and men dabble in such, woe betides all.”

That sounded like a direct quote.

“Maybe.” Frank acknowledged. “But if Hellspeakers can exist, not all applications or use of demons is evil or doomed to fail, is it?” he argued.

“Perhaps.” Deli agreed. “But theirs is an ancient, storied tradition, enshrined in both law and custom. You do not seek their path, Frank, or you would have gone to the Landkarls.”

She pressed on. “Why do you want to meddle with demons? What do you want Frank?” she asked, bluntly.

“To understand the world I live in, as any Scientist.” Frank told her honestly. “Gods, Angels, dead, Demons, magic, souls and all.”

“Being curious is a poor reason to meddle with forces beyond us.” Deli advised him. “You could doom yourself or others.”

At least she’d refrained from saying he would doom them.

“I’m as curious as a smith is interested in metals. It’s professional curiosity. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” She challenged.

Frank answered the challenge directly: “In Science? Yes. With demons? I’d like to find out.”

Deli considered him. “There are a lot of stories of fools who thought they knew better, diving into Sin and doom on this path. Being Cursed for their foolishness.”

“That’s alright.” Frank told her, grinning. His grin confused her.

“First rule of Science:” Frank explained. “Know and admit when you don’t know something. The first step to learning about something is admitting we don’t know or understand what we are seeing.”

“It’d be admitting weakness.” Deli warned him.

“It’s a show of strength.” Frank rebutted. “I’m sure enough of myself and my standing, to admit to being an ignorant fool in need of instruction.” After a moment, he added: “On this subject.”

Deli laughed. “That’s ridiculous.” she denied. “No one thinks, acts in that manner.”

Frank smiled at her.

Deli met his eyes for a long moment. Snorted.

“Some days Frank, you’re infuriating. I can’t tell if you’re a fool, or wise. I know you for stubborn, and too curious for your own good. You’ll seek this path, no matter my objections.”

“Not if they’re well-reasoned. I’m open to being convinced otherwise, but vague “this is risky and dangerous” warnings will hardly dissuade me. I’ve done many dangerous things, and not always for the best reason.”

“Besides, I have a way to deal with Curses. So as long as the consequences fall on my shoulders, I will learn and recover. And with two Science Skills at four, I would argue there’s some wisdom to my lessons.”

Deli blinked, her hands slacking. She looked at him, at the stone in his hands. “How many Logic Skills do you have?” Deli asked in a hush, like she was speaking of something scandalous, or a conservative woman speaking of something lurid.

Frank counted them, feeling just a bit smug.

Logic = 4

-Ecology 4

+Biology (5) 4

+Science 2 (0/30)

-Mathematics 4

-Tactics 4 (0/50)

-Strategy 2

+Runes (Red Sun) 3

+Runes (Eversnow) 1 (4/20)

“Eight.” Frank told her, aware he was bragging, and struggling to keep his own voice down. It felt good to tell someone. “With four at four.” Well, one was at five, but…

”It doesn’t work right now.”

Deli gaped at him. In a strangled whisper she asked: “You’re a Master four times over?”

“No.” Frank denied. “Masters are fives and sixes, right?” He checked.

“Maybe in the Empire. Not here, they aren’t. Four is enough. Granted, Master’s true will not consider one a part of their order before they advance, but Skill four is a Mastery, for most folk.” Deli denied.

“Oh.” Huh.

“Guess so.” Frank concluded.

So there was a gradient, at work here. One where the Confederation had less Ability and Skill.

Frank was so deep in thought, it was only his Awarness that allowed him to duck the thrown cup. “Hey!”

Deli was, once again, not happy with him. “Guess so! I’ll give you “guess so” you, you, impossible utter Frank!”

It was impressive, how she’d managed to make his name a curse.

***

Lilijah moving in was a lot more involved. Frank had to give up some space in the work room. The Hunter put in a worktable and a shelf filled with various poisons, a chest under the table with samples and tools of the trade.

Sharing their home with two new additions would take some getting used to.

Deli was taking to it like fish to water, but then, it was her way, her people.

Lilijah was upstairs. She’d thrown Frank out of the work room while mixing a new batch of some kind of acid. Deathroot extract, she called it. It was what she used to trigger his runestones.

He’d asked Lilijah why it was called Deathroot on his way out, and she’d slammed the door in his face.

Frank was carving away, filling up new bomb stones for Lilijah, downstairs, to go along with the acid. Deli was laying back in a chair by the fire, resting. Waited on hand and foot by Cherna. The two were talking, Deli recounting the fight in the tower. She was bragging and embellishing as she went, the number of Bones, Demons, and Ice Shades all raised by one, but Frank let her have her fun.

Cherna was enjoying herself, trying to pick apart Deli’s grandstanding. As time passed, it looked like they’d have a quiet afternoon in, before their midnight watch.

After a bell, Frank finished a couple of runestones, and asked Cherna if she had any experience cutting beards.

“Not much.” She admitted, “but I’m willing to try.”

Well, that would probably be better than if he tried shaving himself again.

***

Between a shave, and drinking the last Health Brew, Frank had a lazy afternoon in, resting. Cherna didn’t do a great job with his beard, trimming it to about a centimetre. His new cut was somewhat uneven in places, but Frank made peace with that.

“She didn’t nick me once.” and that was what mattered.

It would have been more relaxing if Deli hadn’t taken his orders seriously after a bell of rest. She was deliberately prancing around in a dark grey two piece string bikini that did not help Frank relax.

Cherna had been scandalised when Deli came down in the outfit. Nakedness for sex was fine apparently, or for training, but just flaunting her body was unseemly, unbefitting a warrior.

Deli was more than happy to point the finger at Frank. While he was going between shivers, and fevers from the Brew.

Health = 29/50

Mana = 4

The discomfort was worth the extra nine points of Health Frank got from drinking it, but Cherna kept grumbling just out of earshot of him, giving him judgemental looks. Frank had a feeling there would be new rumours about him tomorrow. Depending on what they were, he might have to act.

“I’m not looking forward to that.”

He had asked if the same applied to men, about going around in the buff. It did.

If they weren’t wearing one of those knotted belts, walking around bare-chested or without pants was considered rude for a man. From what he gathered, if someone wasn’t interested in sex, the custom went, they shouldn’t be showing off skin. It was misleading, dishonest. Or so Cherna explained to him.

The Empire didn’t believe that, and neither did Frank, but when in Rome.

Frank, in turn, informed her that this was a kind of training and to consider what she said about it in that light. He wasn’t sure Cherna believed him, about the training. She left them to it, to tend the gardens.

***

Of course, eventually Lilijah came down and things got really awkward.

Deli was not about to go back on her word, and stayed nearly naked. And Lilijah couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances. Each one of which made Deli uncomfortable, so she’d snap at Lilijah. Who would, in turn, flush with shame and promise to try to do better, while being angry at herself and Frank.

Lilijah would try to keep the conversation going, like nothing was wrong, or snipe at him. Only to fail to keep her eyes off Deli, five minutes later. The cycle would repeat.

The two of them would be funny, if they weren’t so sad.

“But hey, at least I’m not the only one training my resistance to temptation.” Frank pointed out reasonably. Because misery loved company, “and if I have to suffer through this, they can suffer with me. We’ll all be one miserable party together.”

Neither one of them were happy with that. But they couldn’t actually say he was wrong either.

The discomfort of being watched by a woman was a constant distraction and irritant for Deli, while Lilijah got to struggle with her own urges, much like Frank.

After a while, Cherna came back from tending to the garden to find all three of them sitting in sullen silence, not looking at each other.

“Right. You three done training, or will I suffer this foolishness regularly?”

No one answered her.

Frank did agree he’d need to rethink this training. He didn’t want discomfort to be a constant at home. Everyone needed time to unwind, or they’d break. Or just consider the house a work area, and go elsewhere to relax. “Either of which would be bad for teamwork.”

Before Frank could raise the issue, a runner knocked on the floor hatch. Deli covered herself with a blanket, as the boy’s head popped up:

“The Fellhanded and Captain Ilias want the Mageling and his party to report in. They’re in the hall of war. There’s trouble.”

With that, the boy disappeared. Cherna turned back to them, looking worried.

There was only one real kind of trouble expected to show up, this late, on this of all days.

Frank sighed. He got up and started collecting his gear. They all did. Deli went back up to change.

Armed and armoured, they came down the hatch. As they each landed downstairs, Cherna was waiting for them. Lilijah had gone down first, so she got the first hug.

“Fell night, dark sight.” Cherna, no, the Firekeeper, intoned.

“The dead come. Empty quiver, silent night, my Hunter.”

Lilijah was surprised, but after a moment, she hugged Cherna back.

“Ever-warm, everhearth.” the Hunter whispered, sounding chocked up.

Deli was next. “Fell night, dark sight.” Cherna intoned again, and her voice echoed.

No, Frank could hear other Firekeepers, speaking the same line. Like a choir, echoing down the tunnels, again and again. Their voices ringing out in something like a dirge or a march.

“The cold comes. Break the Bones, drive back the Ice, my dear Axe.” Cherna charged her, hugging Deli as well.

“No Shade shall escape my sight.” Deli promised. “Tend the flames and the wounded, Firekeeper.”

Deli was more excited, than scared or touched. Frank worried about her Health. She couldn’t have much left, after the beating she’d already taken in her Challenge today. Deli however didn’t seem worried at all.

Frank wasn’t sure if he’d get a hug as well, but Cherna didn’t hesitate.

“Fell night, dark sight.” she repeated.

“Death cares not where you are from, stranger. It comes for all.” She hugged him too.

“I know.” Frank told her. He had a feeling this was more a speech meant for visitors less willing to risk their lives.

Cherna held him by the shoulders, as the hug parted, weighing his sincerity.

“You do.” She whispered. “Burn bright, Mageling. Rain hell.”

Fist going to chest, Frank took his orders with formal precision. “Yes, Ma’am! We’ll deal with this.”

“Hold down the home front. We’ll be back.” He reassured her.

Frank couldn’t actually promise their return, not for sure, but they should be fine. “Or so I hope.”

There’d been multiple reclamations of Blighttown, stories went, and in most of them, the actual effort failed after a year or two, but they survived failing. It was the taint that made them leave, not disaster. For most of the attempts.

Frank wasn’t superstitious. He didn’t believe in jinxing himself. But something told him that if the day had been one of Challenges, this would be a Night of many Trials.

***

When they got to the warrior’s hall, he was not disappointed.

The dead were massing for an assault, on the surface and below, the Fellhanded informed everyone gathered. The coordination was somewhat unexpected, but easily explained: demons were coming with them.

Hell, the basted demon claiming to have arranged this whole thing had outright taunted some hunters with why it was happening.

“If its words can be trusted.”

The wannabe Warlock they’d killed had used her demons to speak to the Snow King and his Dead Court and negotiate with multiple other demons. She’d arranged for the attack to come after most had undergone Challenges and were weakened by them, likely as a distraction to help her escape.

“It’s a mite concerning.” The Fellhanded admitted, before the gathered party leaders.

“But we’re ready for this, if not as well as just an assault by the dead.” He told them.

“Our trouble: the new expansion isn’t as secure as our inner compound. All the firekeepers and children are being pulled back to the old grounds. We can retake the new addition again, if needed. It will be crowded, and not everyone can fit into our barracks. That is where you all come in.”

They were at a gathering of caravan guards. The Reclaimers were probably having their own meeting.

“Your duty is to hold the other barracks building. We’ll keep the nasty ones off you, for the most part. But if all the beasties work together, some will get through. Such an attack can’t last. Demons are famously factitious. They’ll start fighting each other soon enough.” he told them.

“The fight will get ugly, before they start infighting. Assignments will be handed out immediately. Anyone that needs Health, visit the main chapel on your way out.”

And so it was. Brar showed up about half-way through the briefing.

The chapel was one Frank hadn’t visited before, near the heart of the Reclaimer section. The stone room was covered in faith runes, and filled with Light that felt almost alive; hostile to him, dangerous. There were shapes in it, glowing ghosts and hateful faces that did not like Frank.

Lilijah and Deli each grabbed an arm, and Brar pushed him from behind, when Frank hesitated in going in. They weren’t surprised.

All three spoke together, Brar somewhat off beat. “Our leader is from beyond this land. He is a pilgrim true, a Mageling that served with both guards and hunters. Ancestors, accept his presence, in this, our time of need.”

Then they crossed the runeline in the floor without hesitation. It felt like being plunged into a sauna. The light was near blinding, and Frank could barely make out the shape of the Priest in the back, leaning heavily on the altar. He was bleeding, from his nose and eyes, standing with his eyes closed, chanting something Frank couldn’t make out. The runes and light waxed and waned with his voice. In his hands, clasped on the altar was a golden tree, as tall as his chest, shining with inner silver light.

“No, not gold.” It was gold and silver, the tree, a silver so pure and shining it reminded him of the Pale Gate, the gold as warm and radiant as sunlight.

Frank didn’t have much time to consider the Artefact further, as he felt like he’d been pinned in place by the sudden attention of hundreds of eyes. As if he was suddenly on a stage, or standing before a firing squad.

Begrudgingly, they approved, and the light speared through him, his stomach cramping badly, the pain and heat radiating from that point leaving Frank nearly senseless.

Deli was worse, she had to be dragged out of the circle, while Frank managed to stumble out of it on his feet.

But after a few breaths to recover, they both regained their bearings, and were quickly ushered out of the chapel.

“Now this is what I call a miracle.” Frank thought, seeing the line in front of the chapel door. Feeling awe as more and more parties came in, some going in whole, some sending in only a few members.

Health = 50/50

Mana = 6

Not that so many could be healed, but that the kind of Artefact an Empire Noble would hoard and keep in their collection, was out on the front lines.

Deployed where it was needed, used to push back against the dead. Saving the lives of warriors and hunters, helping prune back monsters. Supporting efforts to try and cleanse Blighttown.

Not placed on some pedestal, all the better to rub in the faces of rival nobles.

It was another line in the sand, drawn between the Empire and the Confederation. There was no way that thing was there without approval from the Cult, or the Landkarls. That was a strategic asset, if it could heal dozens, hundreds, in a single bell.

As the miracle Artefact seemed to be doing as they left.

They passed Deadbeat and her party in the hall. Clasped hands, and kept moving, not stopping for more. Sent a runner to Cherna, to tell her what she needed to bring with her, when she left their house for shelter with the others.

Lilijah was not willing to leave all her poisons out, and Frank felt similarly about his supply of wands.

Frank wanted to go back and help Cherna move their things, but they had orders. Dusk wasn’t far, and they could still work on raising temporary fortifications. Those had already been planned in advance. Frank would have liked to get his hands on a shield as well, but now wasn’t the time to make a fuss.

***

Or so he thought. Deli noticed his looks towards the passing merchants once they were at the worksite and pulled the idea out of him.

Frank got a shield to go with his staff. It put the party in even more debt, but they didn’t seem to mind, not now. They might regret that, later.

It was a medium, circular thing. Made of hard wood, reinforced with steel in the middle, and around the edges. It was unadorned, painted a dark brown. A bit wider than his chest, covering Frank from shoulder to waist.

It was not his preferred kind of shield. That was a square one used by the Legions. While Frank had slotted the Spearman style Skill back while waiting for Deli to finish her trial, it wasn’t active yet. Still, there was skill, and Skill.

“With three Strength, at least I’ll hit harder, if I run out of mana again.”

And Frank could help out more, with raising the Barricades. By unanimous decision, Deli was forbidden from contributing.

She didn’t like that, but she sat her ass down, and watched.

Deli found her own way to help, after a few minutes. She started singing a working song that helped them pass the time, and keep a steady pace.

***

As dusk came, scouts sounded hunting horns in the distance. Their break was coming to an end.

“ ’Here come the dead’, indeed.”

Monsters were expected to partake in the fighting. They were more a threat for the dead army, then for the living, but some had a taste for living flesh as well. “We’ll have to watch the night sky.”

It wasn’t a great night for a fight. While the day had been calm, as night came on, the winds had picked back up again. And so had the snow. It wasn’t a storm, not yet, but nor was it pleasant fighting weather.

Frank was really happy he had both heatstones, and furs on. Even if they didn’t fight? It would be a long night out in the cold.

“But hey, at least we have each other.”

“What’s so funny?” Liijah challenged, angry.

Frank knew being angry was easier than being scared. But there were better ways to pass the time, on a night like this. Ways that kept guards alert, without making them twitchy.

Their party was positioned near the tip of the defences pointed towards the centre of town. From there, Frank had good coverage and range. If a large group showed up somewhere, he could probably blast them. He’d been warned to conserve his mana tonight. Lilijah and the other scouts were his spotters, while he was playing artillery. They’d tell him where to throw.

His range might be limited, but Frank still had some reach, in crowded town streets. Within the confines of stone walls, the blast of a fireball going off could be nasty.

“Just wondering if old Deathless will leave some for us.” Frank told Lilijah. Bravado, always a good fall back for soldiers.

Brar scoffed. “If it was up to him, he’d take them all on himself. Get them in a neat, orderly line, and knock them down one by one. There wouldn’t be any left for anyone else. Gods be good, we’ll see battle tonight.”

Deli chimed in: “I hope we get something good. A swarm of Burrowers? A Northern Skydancer? Oh, maybe we could fight a Gorgodar? With the walls breached, one might make it to us.”

Lilijah looked at them all in disbelief. “Why do you all have to be such warriors?” She groaned, full of regret. “Why couldn’t I find a nice, sensible hunting party?”

“I don’t know.” Frank mused. Lilijah started to tense. “I think you’re too tall for them. No one wants a Hunter that sticks up above the treetops.”

Deli chuckled, while Lilijah looked at him as if he was mad.

“No, no.” Brar denied. “It’s the humming. Why would anyone take a hunter that makes so much noise while hunting?”

For the record, Lilijah was by far the quietest of them all, on patrol. At that point, she figured out they were just fucking with her. “I hate all of you.” She grumbled.

Deli wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and while she wasn’t entirely comfortable with her, pulled Lilijah in for a quick hug. “Now that we’re thoroughly defeated your hubris.” Deli began.

Lilijah snorted, but didn’t pull away.

“What say you we work on the men a little?” Deli finished. “Now Frank, if one of the Wailing Women tries to hug you, that’s bad for you, alright?”

Frank closed his eyes, exasperated at the tone. Deli was speaking to him as if she was addressing a child. Frank knew what she was doing, but it still grated.

Lilijah jumped on the chance to turn the game around: “Yeah. Don’t get us killed thinking with your dick, oh glorious Leader.”

Frank knew he wouldn’t get anywhere with those two, they were both in on it. Frank turned to Brar for support, man to man.

The Shield Guard looked him up and down, dead serious. “I don’t know Frank. I can see it. You have a problem.” He delivered in a deadpan.

Laughing at the ridiculousness of how seriously Brar delivered his agreement, Frank managed to speak out: ”I am not! So far gone. As to try to bed; one of the dead!”

Nearby warriors from other parties gave him strange looks, while some got it and laughed at his woe.

“Eh, good enough.” At least Lilijah’s mind was off their impending and inevitable doom.

“That’s how it always goes, in the stories, doesn’t it? Let’s not make this a desperate last stand, saved by some divine intervention at the last moment, can we? I mean, if we do end up needing one, I’m not saying not to deliver, if any angels or Gods are listening, I’m just-“ ”

A snowball hit the back of his hood.

“You’re right.” Brar noted. “He does get lost in his own head.”

“Who threw that?” Frank asked.

It was ridiculous that he had kept track of every dark street out there, but not his own party members. He hadn’t considered them a threat, but he knew better now. They all feigned innocence.

“Who threw that.” Frank repeated, far more seriously, letting his Command voice leak into the air.

He suspected Deli, but it was Lilijah who stepped forward. “I did.” She told him, defiant.

“Good job.” Frank praised her. “This is no time to have my head in the clouds. If I wander off, do it again.”

Not that he would. “The banter was just a bit too relaxing.” His party wasn’t a risk to him, but something taking the appearance of one of them could be. Alert meant alert, not alert except for “X”.

It wasn’t the banter, really.

Frank knew why he was so relaxed. There was no one here to catch him, if he fell. But he’d spent so long with someone to watch out for him, Frank lacked proper appreciation for risks. If nothing else, getting himself nearly killed on that field of fire had proven that.

It was one of the reasons that, despite his Ability and Skill, he didn’t try to take a wider command. Why he still kept Strategy and Tactics at bay. His judgement of risk was compromised, and the only real way to rebuild it was from the ground up.

“Start with a small party, work my way up.”

That way, fewer people would pay for his mistakes, next time.

Frank ducked under the second snowball, keeping a sharp eye out.

They all settled down, watchful, but not so on alert to tire themselves out.

The night deepened.

***

There were shouts in the distance. Calls, horns, bows thwacking, and jeers from the walls.

The fight was starting.