Eary dusk, Camp a Few Miles from Eldermire
The forest stretched wide and empty, the wind stirring the trees like whispers through the dark. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a dull golden light over the valley, but no one in the camp looked at ease.
Too much had happened. Too many had died in the last 12 hours.
Delwyn crouched near the campfire, rolling her stiff wrists from combat, as she traced a finger over Mira's map that lay on their makeshift table from a fallen tree. The rough parchment creased beneath her touch; the ink faded but still legible.
Vaelor sat across from her, his sharp gaze drifting over the terrain markings, silent as ever.
The others—Joren, Talia, Elias, and Mira—rested nearby, drinking what little water they had left, their movements slow and stiff. Their wounds weren't fresh, but the weight of exhaustion had settled in deep.
They needed to keep moving.
But they wouldn't get far on foot.
Delwyn exhaled at the thought. Then - "We need horses."
Mira nodded, rubbing a hand over her face. "Agreed. But unless one of you has a big bag of gold stashed away, we're not buying any."
Elias scoffed. "And where exactly are we supposed to steal them then? We're in the middle of the goddamned wilds."
Vaelor, still studying the map, finally spoke. "What about Brimholt."
Delwyn glanced at him. "The mining town?"
Vaelor nodded, tapping the map. "It's small, rough, isolated. Not a place loyal to Blackreach. But it's got working horses. Carts, too."
Joren grunted. "Dwarven territory."
Mira sighed. "Great. So not only are we stealing, but we're also stealing from dwarves. That'll go well."
Delwyn smirked. "You sound like you've done it before."
Mira rolled her eyes. "No, but I know dwarves. Stubborn as hell and twice as mean when you piss them off."
Vaelor nodded. "Brimholt isn't a full dwarven city, but it's in their land. Humans settled there generations ago, built alongside the dwarves. They tolerate outsiders, but only if they bring coin."
Elias grinned. "And we're bringing trouble instead."
Delwyn leaned back, crossing her arms. "Sounds like a challenge."
****
Before they moved, they needed more than just a plan for horses. They needed answers.
Delwyn tilted the map toward the firelight, her eyes drifting toward Eldermire's marking.
She couldn't shake it. The weight of that place. The feeling that they had left something unfinished.
Vaelor was already watching her. She looked up at him, hooded probably from the cold night air biting at him
"You're thinking about it too," she murmured.
Vaelor leaned back slightly, arms crossed. "Hard not to."
Mira's gaze flicked between them. "Whatever happened in there—those things we fought? That wasn't just old magic. That was… something else."
Delwyn exhaled, tapping her fingers against the map. "The murals in the chamber—the ones we saw before the dead started rising—they spoke of a pact. A bargain made in blood."
Joren grunted. "Sounds like something Galborn would be interested in."
Delwyn nodded. "The symbols carved into the walls—they weren't just ancient. They were familiar. I saw similar markings in Blackreach. In the dungeons."
Silence fell over the group.
Elias ran a hand through his dark hair. "So what we're saying, the bastard king isn't just hoarding armies now? He's hoarding… what? Corpses?"
Vaelor's voice was quiet. "Something worse."
Delwyn met his gaze. "You think this connects to the Rift?"
Vaelor's jaw tightened. "I'm not sure…it's possible."
Mira exhaled, rubbing her chin. "And we're just supposed to waltz into the rebellion with this? 'Oh hey, turns out the king of Varfaun is dabbling in things that should've stayed buried?'"
Delwyn's lips pressed into a thin line. "We need leverage. If we figure out exactly what Galborn's after, we gain something he doesn't want us to have."
Mira scoffed. "And what the hell would that be?"
Vaelor glanced toward the fire, his expression unreadable. "A way to stop it."
The fire crackled, throwing embers and shadows across his soft elven face.
Delwyn studied him. He knew more than he was saying. But now wasn't the time to press him.
She rolled up the map and stood. "First, we steal some horses."
****
The Road to Brimholt
They set out before the sun fully dipped beneath the trees. Only gaining micro rest to save on time. It would be easier to steal under the cover of night.
The path wound through valleys and dense underbrush, forcing them to keep low and quiet. Every snap of a branch sent a ripple of tension through the group.
Joren, lagging slightly from his wound, grumbled but kept pace. Mira moved beside him, her grip firm on the hilt of her blade.
Vaelor walked just ahead of Delwyn, his movements as silent as ever.
Delwyn smirked. "Are you always this quiet, or is it just for dramatic effect?"
Vaelor didn't look at her. "Would you prefer I talked more?"
Delwyn chuckled. "I'd prefer you be a little less mysterious. Maybe tell me exactly how you know about Eldermire."
Vaelor's lips twitched. "Maybe later."
"Of course."
Mira rolled her eyes. "Devine Gods help me, I can't take the tension between you two."
Delwyn grinned and turned her head to Mira. "What tension?"
Vaelor exhaled sharply. "We should focus."
Elias snickered behind them. "That's what people say when they're losing an argument."
Vaelor didn't dignify that with a response.
****
Brimholt in Sight
Nightfall, Outside Brimholt
Brimholt sat nestled between the rocky hills, built along the mouth of an old dwarven mine. The town was half stone, half wood, sturdy and rough, shaped by both human and dwarven hands.
Lanterns flickered along the muddy roads, casting shadows over short, stocky figures moving between stone buildings. The air smelled of coal, iron, and stubbornness.
Dwarves didn't trust easily. And they sure as hell didn't like thieves.
Vaelor crouched beside a fallen log, scanning the settlement. "Looks quiet enough."
Mira frowned. "Too quiet."
Delwyn watched the movements near the stables, tracking the guards.
"Two men near the corral," she murmured. "Another near the well. Doesn't look like a full garrison. More like a town militia."
Elias grinned. "Militia means we can take them if we have to."
Joren grunted. "And if we don't have to?"
Delwyn exhaled. "Then we do this clean. In and out before anyone notices."
Mira nodded. "And if things go wrong?"
Delwyn smirked. "Then we improvise."
Vaelor gave her a look. "I hate that word."
Delwyn winked. "I know."
She stood, rolling out her shoulders. "Alright. Let's do this."