Corvayne was busy.

He had hover-cycles to repair. Weapons to forge. Plans to make on his little roll-up computer, and now he was working out maps of The High Plains, his old desert senses coming back. He spoke less, staring off at the brown and blue of land and sky while old lessons were swirling in his head. What troops did he have? Twenty one of his group, ten villagers and the fifteen imperial demolition troopers he had saved. He was surprised they hadn't left for safer lands yet, instead doing tasks around the camp under the direction of Lady Blood Claw and Mosh.

He patrolled between doing everything else. Every foray out had him fighting a few of the stragglers, using his weapon techniques to wipe them out. There was a decent running fight that turned to a rout when he took on a bunch of scouts.

It wasn't enough. He could make three copies of himself and send them out into the plains and it wouldn't make a dent in the army The Raven had pushed up to Ebolt. They might make enough bullets to take out a few thousand men... and if they kept hitting and running they might win. Except, they had no counter to the beam weapon in The Raven's hands. The days after returning were blurring together. Sometimes he went out looking for hints alone on his cycle, dodging the wyvern riders as he watched The Raven's troops move. Trying to see if he could spot the man without being seen himself.

He knew he was becoming disconnected, remote, cold. Grunt, Mister I, and Nyx were patient with him. He owed them better then sitting on his ass away from everyone and so their patience just made him mad at himself, especially when the understanding came from Nyx whom he had always pegged as reliably self-centered. Seru and LBC and Spears came by camp too, usually taking turns bringing dinner and sometimes trying to get him talking by just telling him what people were up to. Stories of weapons found, new powers, sometimes of fights with horsemen on the plains.

During the day he was often alone at camp, as Bell had started to go off to train or help with tasks, taking with her his finished projects and bringing back new things for him to work on.

A few nights after coming back Bell sat down near him. “Corvayne, I wish to admit something shameful.”

He did not want her to go ahead, yet his mouth said, “Go ahead.”

She hadn't talked much about nearly dying, or that Corvayne had saved her, which had been good. He wasn't in the mood to do much besides fix little things, spar with LBC, and do whatever odd exercises The Spider had been coming up with him to do... something with a bunch of weird muscles. He should have kept helping Bell, as she had started acting like a better version of herself. Instead, Corvayne was staying out of her way, guessing that he might also drag her on downward trajectory. Yet he couldn't tell her that, because some part of him (perhaps that pesky [[Understanding]]!) knew he was some sort of milestone she was striving to reach.

More evidence: Bell couldn't look him in the eye as she started talking. “I have been considering... if I was to go into The Raven's camp... and bed him... if it would solve my problem.”

Corvayne stopped spooling another Anti-grav unit and couldn't help his tone of voice from coming out shrill even to his own ears. “What? What the fuck?”

She looked up. “I assumed you understand the logic of it. The fact is, if he can use those weapons like the empire used, he might be the next emperor. Our bloodline is spent, otherwise. I would rather not hand my lands to a madman, so... if I had an heir, if I stole away with his seed... I might skip whatever trials I had assumed finding a true solution would entail.”

Corvayne had to control his own temper, leaning into a gut feeling she was not going to follow through with that terrible plan. The Bell from before might have done such a thing. That, or she wouldn't consider lowering herself to do so at all. Hard to say how thinking before acting had changed her.

Seeing her really thinking through what she was saying reminded him that he was failing her too, and that lead to how some of the people he loved had failed him. So no, the sleeping with the enemy solution, Bell probably wouldn't do that, but maybe she was actually asking him permission, or feeling out what he thought about The Raven.

“You don't want to do that.” Corvayne said, leaving the meaning ambiguous between advice or observation or threat.

She nodded, looking embarrassed. Which made Corvayne really want to ask her why she brought it up at all. Bell continued, perhaps not noticing Corvayne's sour expression. “I shouldn't because... It is the easy way out. The simpleton's plan. Having a child and crossing my fingers that the last vestiges of the gift would manifest again... it would just delay the collapse, wouldn't it?”

Corvayne let a out a breath he had been holding. Not as bad as he had worried. “Yes. I don't have good ideas on how to fix it, and the ideas I have are in very poor taste, ones that I'm sure plenty of terrible people in your family who understand genetics tried breeding the line true...”

He regretted saying that as her expression quivered. Oh no, they really tried that didn't they? “I mean to say I would never wish that on anyone.”

Bell took a deep breath. “Our family tried that, in the past. When the power of the blood was growing cold. I bear my own sin too, one I try not to think of. It's why I asked you such a terrible question. To be sure it's another foolish solution, but I wished to hear it from you.”

“Let me really sink it... I can almost be certain it wouldn't work. He's from a high tech society, so it's likely his weapon is some sort of technology rather then impressive magic.”

Bell had a gun on her and put a hand over it, perhaps for reassurance. “I'd rather it was, but any sufficiently powerful magic is indistinguishable from technology.”

She had to have had someone feeding her those lines wrong! It was so CLOSE!

Bell continued, “Someone like you would need to watch what he does to command my empires holy light to determine if it is, in fact, a trick or real magic.”

“And to do that? I'd have to be close to him. I'm sneaky, but not-”

“You are a shadow Corvayne. When you want to be, you are impossible to see. Why are you a hero in everything but your confidence?”

“Not much of a hero in bed, either, these days.” Corvayne said as he tossed another log onto his fire.

“If I thought all you needed was another warm pair of loins to stand up straight, I would offer my own. Hari tried and is far better company then I.”

Corvayne looked at her. “That's problem number two, which should have been my first objection. You also price yourself too cheap.”

She snarled. “That's the exact opposite of what you told me for weeks!” Then she breathed in and paused, her face turning neutral impressively fast. Wait, was that what everyone saw Corvayne do when he calmed himself down? “I know Corvayne, I am worth more then my weight in gold, otherwise the 'fucking' adventurers guild would have taken me home already.”

That made him smile. “You're learning to swear in Cascadian?”

“It sounds like a nasty, base, solid word. I would take it, therefore, as my own to be spit out at my enemies. And the reason I wanted to talk was... I was thinking that easy way did not work for my empire. It had never worked for me. You have helped me feel confident in my decision.”

“Would you have changed your mind if I said go ahead?”

She took a deep breath. “I would not ask you if I thought you were the type of person to dismiss me so easily. Nor would I ever have respected you if you were not dogged in doing what you felt right.”

“It sounds you've been talking to Mister I.” Corvayne noted.

“More Mosh. Mosh from a place where every man lives like a king.”

Corvayne twisted his lip into a small smile. “Not an emperor then? Not quite that good?”

“No Corvayne, emperors are busy all the time. Kings sit on their fat asses.”

Corvayne took a deep breath. “So, what about me Bell? What am I doing wrong here?”

“Every person I've treated with in your company, including the reclusive Wick and cowardly Hari, are exceptional. But, aside from The Spider Queen, they are being reactive, hoping that guns will fix the problem or that a solution will come from the dungeons they keep running. Which they might, if we had an army of them. As impressive as rockets are, they are nothing compared to the Empires bloodline weapons.”

Corvayne sat there, thinking over her words. Start backwards. If that weapon was the one big problem, how would he go about taking it away? He didn't know what the trick of it was. Maybe he really was able to use Bell's weapons against her.

“... As you said, we need to get into camp and watch him fire it, right?”

Bell thought about it. “He has powerful allies, and a million men circling him.”

Corvayne stood up. “Who are you betting on then?”

She must have seen it. Seen the thundercloud inside Corvayne starting to swirl, all the lessons he had never used before on how to fight an army.

“A stupid question, Corvayne. An empress does not roll dice.”

Again! Just a little wrong Bell.

Corvayne focused. Right now, he needed to consult with someone he trusted to fight dirty as hell. He started walking over to where Grunt did his watches atop the truck. From that conversation, he had more ideas.

He ended up talking to pretty much everyone, with Hari awkwardly passing a few of his questions along to Wick. He tried his best to be civil, not to just sound civil. He loved them both, and even if they were hurting him, he didn't really want to hurt them back.

On the tenth night after the fall of Ebolt, he addressed his friends and family. “I got a plan to take this bastard down.”