It took Weaver a moment to gather his wits. He clearly wasn’t used to getting this level of pushback to his attitude. Valkar probably just let him do whatever to keep the peace and avoid hassle. Len had no such considerations to slow her down.

“I’m waiting,” she said.

His face hardened.

“What do you want me to say? You know this is a dumping ground for the unwanted. We’ve got no chance of having better, so why shouldn’t we just wait around for the end to come for us? Do you really expect me to give a damn about any of this?”

“Not really, I suppose,” she said after a moment’s thought. “But I do expect you to do what I tell you to. You may not like the idea of taking orders from me but you don’t have a choice on that. If you’re that eager for the end, you’re more than welcome to march out into the cold and die for all I care, but if you’re interested in seeing tomorrow, you damn well better pay attention when I have something to say.”

“Well go on, then, oh great leader. Tell me what it is that you think will turn this camp around. Tell me how you’re even a little bit different than all the other schmucks that have come before you.”

“I’m… still working on that,” she admitted.

“Oh, well if you’re working on it,” he threw his hands up into the air. “That makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it, mate,” she said, keeping her glare locked on him. “Congratulations on moving up to ‘example’ status. Get your ass over to the mine and pick up an axe or you’re going hungry tonight. You’ll keep going hungry until the miners are satisfied with your haul.”

“What? Valkar agreed that we didn’t have to work the mines.”

“Cool, great. Not Valkar. Move it now or you’re done here.”

Weaver stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. Basic concepts of discipline had become so foreign in the Hovel that he really didn’t seem to know how to react. She just held his gaze as long as he chose to keep it, then looked at the others when he finally let his shoulders sag and walked out of the tent.

“All right, the rest of you lot. In case it wasn’t clear, your ‘day off’ has been cancelled. I get that I’m probably coming off as a massive hardass after the cooler intro I gave you guys this morning but what the hell? Don’t you guys have even an ounce of pride? You get that this situation is completely hanging on a couple of folks working their asses off and you’re just sitting there? Hell, the fact that you were sent here to fail should light a fire under your asses. Prove them wrong, don’t just lie down and take it!”

Her stirring words had precisely zero effect on the broken down sods in front of her. They all rose as instructed but took no real interest in rushing to action. She sighed, spirits flagging. Then an evil glint crept into her eyes.

“You know what, Larry?” she asked her mischievous goblin companion. “I was wrong to demand you fight against your instincts. For the rest of the day you have complete freedom to act however you wish with these guys. No killing, mind you, but other than that? Have at it. If they can’t muster an ounce of self-interest, I guess it’s up to you to remind them what real misery is like.”

Larry grinned a particularly unkind smile and looked eagerly at his new victims. She considered laying down some ground rules but decided not to bother. This camp was in desperate need of some serious overhauls. Odds were that Larry would fail miserably, but it’d be a good learning opportunity for him and a useful reminder to the rest of them that they could be in far more serious trouble if they refused to put in at least a little effort. And who knew? It was entirely possible that this would be his true calling. One never could be certain what would happen when an untested individual runs into the challenge of their lives.

Yeah… she wasn’t buying it either, but that was a problem for later. Right now, she needed to talk to Curly.

Curly didn’t return for another hour. During that time, she mostly put herself to work getting the tent more in line with her personal aesthetics. Rearranging some of the furniture, checking the desk for anything useful. It had a few maps, basic information about supplies, estimated locations of the humans in the area. Nothing too specific. As for the rest, she finally settled in to read the letter from the Demon Lord. She was dreading seeing whatever gloating might be present, but she supposed it would be unwise to completely ignore it.

“All right, Queen Bitch,” she muttered. “Let’s see what you have to say.”

Cracking the seal, she cocked an eyebrow. A number of minuscule glowing red runes skittered away from the wax, creeping into the envelope even as she opened it. The paper inside glowed for an instant, then went dark.

“That’s… unconventional,” she said to herself, then began to read.

Lenore, you’ll have to forgive the theatrics, but I’ve got appearances to maintain. Assuming you’ve actually bothered to open this letter, I suppose you’re owed some explanation of things. You’ve managed to piss off some high-ranking folks around here. No exaggeration, they wanted you dead.

While I can’t say that I’m all that fond of you myself, death seems a bit harsh for the level of aggravation you’ve brought to me, so I’ve decided to get you out of their way long enough for either their heads to cool off, or for you to come up with something yourself.

I looked into your first fights, and I’ve gotta admit that they were impressive. Taking out two trolls with your bare hands? Not many dark elves could pull that off.

I don’t know why exactly they worked so hard to get you out of the Proving early, but they were pulling no punches on it and I really think their next step would have been assassins. Thankfully, being the Demon Lord comes with some advantages, so I was able to convince them I was sending you to Grenus’ Hovel as punishment for annoying me. That’s mostly what that display was about before I sent you on your way. The look on your face was pretty worth it, though.

Len paused, what the hell? How could she have predicted that? Probably magic of some sort. It was nifty but not, she supposed, the most pressing detail of the moment.

Anyway, the place is a shithole, you’ve got good odds of freezing to death or facing mutiny, and the actual objectives of the area are deliberately designed to be impossible. Try not to disappoint me by letting those inconveniences keep you from making the place your own.

Best Regards,

Astrid

Len stared at the letter, baffled. She reread it several times to make sure that she wasn’t missing some strange joke that she just couldn’t grasp. No, it really seemed that Astrid had sent her to this godforsaken place for her own good. That had to be the strangest circumstance she could imagine, and she could imagine a lot. Chuckling slightly, she folded the letter up and put it back in the pack. Something to think about later.

It was as well that she had decided that, because just as she slipped the letter away, Curly strode into the tent, looking cold as hell but mostly satisfied with himself. She let him warm up by the fire for a bit before pressing him for details.

“Well,” she asked. “What’s it like out there?”

“Not quite as bad as the snowstorm we showed up in made it seem. It’s no tropical island paradise but it’s not a barren wasteland, either. Some edible berries, a bit of game. It’s all pretty basic, but it’s manageable. Found some bear tracks while I was out there. I didn’t really feel like following them.”

“Good call. Any other exciting developments while you were out there? Don’t suppose you found a sand-packed beach while wandering.”

“Err… no, nothing like that. Did see some smoke off in the distance. Might be random travelers, might be some folks from that human tribe that we were told about. Didn’t look like a large enough troup to be much of a threat, so I figured just leave ‘em be.”

“Yeah, for the moment, I don’t see much use in picking fights that we don’t need to. We’ll keep an eye out for them and deal with them if they become a problem, but for now? We’ve got more important work to be doing here.”