"You know-" Shifty started, only to interrupt himself briefly with a long pull of liquor from his newly refilled mug. "I'm starting to think we might just make it through this."

A chorus of groans rose up from the mirror laid out on Valserys' desk as his fellow players scolded him.

"What? I'm just saying that it is starting to feel like we might have this in the bag."

"Dude." Cayden pleaded."Stop."

"At least find some wood to knock on." Celia chided.

Shifty rapped his knuckles on the desk, nearly toppling the mirror, and drawing an odd look from Valserys before he continued. "Look, all I'm saying is that things are going better than we expected. ."

Despite their complaints, even Valserys agreed that Shifty's optimism wasn't entirely misplaced. In the two days that followed their last strategy session, things had largely gone their way. Mostly.

As expected, the final attempt to open a hole in the Warden lines to get at the vulnerable siege equipment had proven fruitless. The stone soldiers were no longer willing to take the bait. They stood firm and impassive as a single Elan rider rode into their hex, made a series of rude gestures, and then galloped off in full retreat. Once had been enough, Temujin would not be so easily tricked.

With that tactic exhausted, they had moved on to Valserys' plan.

Given the plainly suicidal nature of the order, Valserys had organized a lottery system to determine who would be ordered into each individual hex in front of the advancing Warden army. He had expected some small number of volunteers willing to sacrifice themselves for their comrades, but to his surprise, they had received so many that the lottery system ended up being used not to determine who would be ordered to the front, but who would have the honor of the frontlines.

That his men were so willing to lay down their lives for an untested plan was at once complimentary and terrifying. They knew what was at stake and were willing to risk and even sacrifice their lives for his strategy. In the hope that his plan would bear the fruit needed to bring the war to a decisive outcome in their favor.

Valserys wished that he had their resolve. While his men had faith in him, his own faith had wavered substantially in the hours leading up to the first Warden turn.

To say that the plan had been a success would be an understatement.

His estimate that the Wardens would learn and adapt to the tactic within one or two turns had been far too conservative. They attacked the width of the line, destroying the first three Potemkin units without effort. Then they stopped. The afternoon turn began, and again the wardens advanced a single hex and halted once more. The evening turn, the following morning, each time the army took a single step forward and let the turn pass.

At full speed, the Warden column could march eighteen hexes in a day, in keeping with the lowest movement speed of six amongst their composition. Valserys' strategy had cost them twenty over the course of four turns, delaying their arrival in Bastion by a full day's march. That by itself was a stunning success, but if the Wardens continued to flounder, if they simply could not adapt, then the war could be over in days.

It was hard not to share at least some of Shifty's good cheer.

"Yeah, yeah." Cayden agreed. "But let's not count our chickens until they've hatched."

"Cayden," Celia said. "Your rural is showing."

The young man scowled across the table at her."Okay first, only Des gets to make that joke. And second, it is a very common idiom."

"Even I understood that one." Valserys agreed. He rolled his eyes at the incredulous glances cast his way and pushed through. "Field Marshall, how much longer do we need to delay them."

"That is a good question," Cayden replied.

"I know. That is why I asked it."

"I-" Cayden started, about to argue, before he thought better of it. "Silver?"

"I have a week left on my timer, but we don't have to delay them that long. It's what, a three-day march from where they are?"

"Four days for them, since they're slower. But yeah." Shifty said.

"So if we can delay them another three days, then it won't matter, they'll get here and I'll be waiting for them."

"I don't believe they will be that forthcoming, even if they seem to be having trouble with the strategy for now. But if we buy even one or two more days, that should make it possible to hold Bastion against a siege."

"I'd rather not cut it that close." Silver mused. "But beggars can't be choosers. Do we know why they're still limping along?"

"I've had goons going back and forth along the back of their route." Came the surprise interjection from the normally silent Bammer. "If they have some backup hanging behind that they're waiting for, I certainly can't see it."

"Could be that their 'AI' is glitched out," Michael said. "We don't know what the event looks like from their side, maybe they just don't know how to deal with it at all and can't adapt. It wouldn't be the first time something in Babel has glitched out so severely."

"Definitely a thought. I don't think we're that lucky, but it would be nice." Cayden said. "Could be that they're scared of an ambush, or that they have some counter-move that we can't see."

"You just don't like it when things are going your way," Shifty observed.

"It just feels wrong," Cayden confirmed. "Like we're dunking on a boss that is about to grow another health bar."

Celia gave him a look.

"What?"

"You're going to give him sass for jinxing us, then say something like that?"

"You are right." Cayden conceded quickly. "Shifty, are you heading back tonight?"

Shifty nodded. "One of the goons is going to swap in before the morning turn in case you need to have a strategy session. I'm going to head out fairly shortly, and I should be back in bastion early tomorrow."

"One nice perk of all this warfare. Really clears out the trash mobs." Cayden grinned.

Shifty snorted. "As if I need the help."

Valserys cleared his throat. "Field Marshall, if we are about done?"

"Duties to attend to, right?" Cayden said, apologetically. "We'll speak again in the morning."

"Certainly."

Valserys gestured to the mirror, waiting at attention until Shifty killed the feed with the press of a button. Once he was certain that it was safe to do so, Valserys reached for his wine bottle once more. He filled a long-stemmed glass before topping off Shifty's mug and finally allowing himself a heavy sigh.

"You know, I used to feel the same way every time I had to conference call with my boss."

Valserys shot the man a glare, but he couldn't hold the expression against the quick snort of involuntary laughter. "Do you have to leave this evening?"

"Probably not. They want me back so we can clear out a low-level dungeon before the Wardens get to Bastion, see if we can find Cayden even a middling shield to replace the ones he keeps breaking. I can be replaced if they need to."

"They still assume they'll have to fight?" Valserys asked after a sip of wine.

"I think a lot of them probably want to by now," Shifty admitted. "You and yours have done the bulk of the fighting by any measure. Even when we interfere directly, like in Islo, there aren't enough of us to fight an army. Most players are used to holding their own lives in their hands, I think waiting to see who wins the clash of armies is probably killing them."

"Is that why you volunteered for scouting duty?"

"No, I was just sick and tired of being cooped up in a castle with a bunch of kids a decade my junior. Not a lot in common with them." Shifty shook his head. "I'm real glad that they've somehow managed to avoid dragging relationship drama into the mix. Cayden has what, three girls at or about his age? That right there is a recipe for a harem comedy or a murder-suicide. And that is before you throw another handsome guy into the mix."

"Perish the thought. All of them are too young, and none are my type beside."

Shifty crooked a brow. "I uh, meant Michael. But... you know that and are pulling my leg."

"I may be." Valserys sipped his wine. "Stay for one more drink? I'm not much of a gossip, but it seems you might benefit from a bit of venting about our 'boss', so I'll make an exception."

It was well into the evening turn before Valserys saw the back of Shifty. The man held his liquor well, not even remotely unsteady as he mounted his horse and rode out of camp toward the distant keep.

The last few hours had been genuinely charming. Good wine, good company, and another successful turn to gloat over. The Wardens had spent the afternoon predictably. Another kilometer forward, three more lopsided victories, then nothing. The loss of any soldier under his command was a bitter pill to swallow, but delaying an overwhelming force by several days at the cost of less than twenty of his men was beyond Valserys' most wild expectations.

"Some tea," Valserys instructed his equerry as he returned to the command tent. "And the updated reports as they come in please."

Without the War Frame or a direct communication link by way of Shifty, Valserys would be limited in his information regarding the Warden's evening turn. He'd be forced to rely on direct scouting reports, and those would not be in until at least an hour or two after the Wardens began to move.

With luck, they would be more of the same. One step forward and hold. If the strategy held true he'd only lose what, another fifty or sixty men before they could retreat entirely, let the Wardens walk the rest of the distance to Bastion and be destroyed by Lady Silver.

Valserys knocked on the desk with his knuckles, then caught himself with a smile. Shifty had explained the superstition amidst their 'airing of grievances. A cute little tradition from a people who had never struck Valserys as particularly pious or superstitious.

They weren't all bad, Valserys had decided. True, his category of 'good' humans was limited entirely to Shifty, at least for the moment. But if one was a decent enough man, then it stood to reason that the rest of their species had redeemable qualities. That they didn't all live such reckless and disrespectful lifestyles.

The first set of evening reports were on his desk within the hour, and to his delight, they were more of the same. Three units destroyed, followed by no movement at all. They made for light reading, but with so many units out in the field, the sheer volume of the reports added up.

Valserys didn't even look up as the fourth set of reports were set on the corner of his rapidly filling desk. He was only partway into the second set of reports and his third glass of sobering tea. It would be a long night.

Or at least, that was what he thought before he noticed the distinctive sight of crimson dripping from the paper down onto his desk.

"So. Do you think you still have a chance?" Asked Temujin.