Chapter Three-Hundred Forty-Two

____________________

Knight-Captain Ross

____________________

Atop a well-groomed pristine white horse, sits an elf with longer hair than most, and piercing blue eyes.  His armor is immaculate, his posture perfect, his lance gleaming and deadly sharp.  He is Knight-Captain Ross, and he takes to his new orders as he does with all things: with dignity, grace, and precision.

He’s aware his company is not the largest, nor the most elite, but that has never stopped him nor his men from rising to whatever orders they have been given.  He would admit he has not been given the most strenuous orders over his career.  Some Knights-Captain would lament the lack of glorious battle, but Ross would love nothing more than for he and his men to remain unbloodied by true war.

Peace is worth he and his men being bored.  But that is no excuse for being found lacking.  They may have never taken the battlefield against another political power, but they still do their drills daily.  He will not allow His Majesty to draw the sword that is his company and find them pitted, rusted, and useless.

He will find them oiled, sharpened, and more than ready to fight whatever battle is needed!  Even the transfer of garrison is an opportunity to whet his men.  Camp is pitched efficiently and broken cleanly, the signs of their respite carefully hidden away as much as possible.  Scouts keep an eye; ahead, behind, and all around.  They need to know where they are going, ensure nobody else knows where they have been, and be wary for those hoping to ambush them on the way to their sacred duty.

Of course, the trip has been uneventful.  They are solidly within the borders of the kingdom, and though he ensures they can be stealthy when they stop, there is no need to hide their banners as they travel the road to Fourdock.  Even the most desperate or powerful of brigands would not want to test the strength of a full company of His Majesty’s finest.

And today, they should be arriving at Fourdock.  They may have been able to make it last night, but the orders are not so urgent as to require drastic measures like that.  He may have done so anyway, if only to test his men in a low-stakes situation, but his orders stated the Earl if’Gofnar will be awaiting him, as well as his son.  The younger if’Gofnar is the Lord Mayor of Fourdock, and so ostensibly in charge of the town, but he is also supposed to be assumed to be executing the will of the Earl.

For the Earl to be there personally is unusual.  He’s not privy to the details, though he knows the Crown Inspector is supposed to be vacationing in the town.  If anything needs to be done, he is certain Olander Wideblade will pass on any contingent orders.  For now, he will get his men situated and look into the local dungeon.  He’s expected to train his men in it, and though he has read the reports, he’s still uncertain if he’s been given false information by a bad actor.

He’d ordinarily not be suspicious, but the details seem… ludicrous.  He supposes he’ll learn the truth soon, as he spots one of his scouts hurrying up the road.  He keeps his men marching as he brings his horse to a stop, letting the scout catch her breath as the company marches.

“Report,” he orders once her breathing steadies, and she gives a crisp salute.

“Sir!  The area appears to be secure, though we are seeing a lot of expedition activity.”  He nods and motions for her to continue.  The dungeon is supposed to have a Marshal, so enhanced expedition numbers is no surprise.

“There’s also…” she hesitates for a moment, catching Ross’ attention.  “There’s… a gigantic tree, on the scale of a mountain, Sir.  I know the reports said the dungeon was planning an expansion, but…” She trails off, clearly shaken, but maintains her composure enough to not wildly speculate, at least out loud.

She’s not the only one surprised.  His own orders said there may be a large tree, and he may need to review the details of the expected expansion, but to see Julour shaken… it must be impressive indeed.  “Any indication of hostility?”

Scout Julour snaps another salute and shakes her head, her composure restored.  “No Sir!  Fourdock appears to be bustling with activity.”

He nods.  “Good.  The tree isn’t unexpected, though I gather the reported estimates don’t do it justice.  Ensure the other scouts return shortly so we can proceed as a full company to the estate of the lord mayor.”  He salutes her in dismiss and she runs off to follow orders, crisp and efficient.

Before too long, he crests a rise and gets to witness Fourdock and the enormous tree himself.  The estimations truly don’t do it justice.  At a glance, it seems like some sort of willow tree, but the mountain beside it for scale truly hammers home just how gargantuan it is.  What kind of dungeon could create an expansion like that?

Evidently, the kind of dungeon described in the reports.  He calls a brief rest atop the crest, letting his men gawk at the sight and hopefully get it out of their system.  It wouldn’t do to have them stumble on the road because they’re too busy staring at a titanic tree instead of minding their own feet.

The landmark earns more than its fair share of looks as they resume, but Knight-Captain Ross can’t begrudge their fascination, especially as everyone continues to keep appropriate vigilance.  As they enter the town, the folk give them curious looks and respectable distance, which suits him just fine.  Curiosity is to be expected, while intense scrutiny would be a sign of something untoward.

At the manor, he and his men are greeted by the young if’Gofnar, his butler, his guards, and the Crown Inspector himself.  He salutes the Mayor and his entourage, his men following suit a beat later, as practiced.

“Knight-Captain Ross and company, reporting for garrison, Sir!”

The young elf smiles and gives a small bow.  “I’d salute in return, but I’ve never been in the military.  Would you like to discuss your assignment, or get your men settled in first?”

“I would like to get my men situated first if possible, Lord Mayor.”

He nods easily.  “Ah, of course.  We can talk at length while they get comfortable.  Our garrison isn’t ready for a full company, unfortunately.  It’s hardly enough for the city guard, something I hope to remedy soon.  For now, there is a large public works project that I would like your men to set up camp around, if that’s agreeable?”

The Knight-Captain nods.  “Yes sir.  We have our camping equipment with us.”

“Wonderful!  The area for your camp should be clear and level, and we will of course ensure you and your men have fresh food to prepare and eat, instead of travel rations.”

Ross smiles at that.  “Thank you, sir.  Our cooks do well with rations, but they do even better with fresh produce.”

The young Mayor smiles with humor.  “At least as fresh as we can provide this early in spring.  Still, cellars allow for better fare than backpacks, I’m told.

“Indeed, sir.”  His eyes flit over the Lord Mayor’s group, wondering where the Earl is, and is surprised that the young elf picks up on it.

“My father won’t be joining us today.  He doesn’t wish to upset noble jurisdiction, and he has an adventuring guild to establish.  He sends his warm regards,” he assures, before turning to motion at the Crown Inspector and continuing.  “Olander has been kind enough to offer to escort you to the site while I prepare for our meeting after.  Say… two hours?”

Ross salutes again.  “Yes sir.  I’ll send a scout if I need more time, but that should be enough to get everyone started.”  The younger elf gives another small bow before returning to his estate, leaving the Crown Inspector to escort.  He simply nods at the military men and they follow behind him, not needing any words.

The area for the camp is rockier than Ross would prefer, but the specific camping area is mostly clear, thankfully.  It’s also, as promised, dry and level, which already beats more than one of the campsites they had to settle for on the journey.  It’s cooler than he would prefer, but there is also plenty of lumber stacked nearby, cut as firewood rather than construction timber.

“It could be a lot worse, eh Knight-Captain?” speaks up the Crown Inspector as the men easily file out to start setting up camp.  Ross eyes him for a few moments before responding.

“We’ve had much worse.  A proper garrison would be preferable, but not all towns are prepared to host a full company,” he answers diplomatically.

“You guys will probably get to move inside as the work on the Hold progresses, too.”

“I… had heard about the project, but only the basics.”

Olander Wideblade smirks at that.  “And I bet some of the details seemed strange to you.”

Ross carefully weighs his words before answering.  “I wouldn’t dare question a project His Majesty approved.”

The Crown Inspector laughing throws Ross off his game, as he had been hoping to not cause offense, but he didn’t mean to inspire comedy!

“That’s a nice way to say nothing!  That’s fair, though.  If I hadn’t delved Thedeim, I would wonder why anyone would allow his denizens and scions to help with a construction project like this.”

“I… read the reports, but reading them is a lot different than seeing that tree.”

Olander grins.  “And you’ve only seen it at a distance.  The Tree of Cycles and the Forest of Four Seasons.  Thedeim still calls them a work in progress, but they’re already some of the most impressive parts of a dungeon I’ve ever seen.”

Olander laughs again as Ross fails to hide his expression, shock and confusion warring with interest across his face.  “I’ll take you and whatever lieutenants you want to meet him after the meeting with Rezlar, if you like.  He likes having new delvers, so long as they play nice.”

“I… would appreciate that greatly, sir.  My men are strong, but I must admit there is little delving experience among them.  If we are to train ourselves in the territory of this Thedeim, I would like to know how to minimize casualties.”

Olander smiles wide, throwing an arm over Ross’ shoulders.  Ordinarily, he would glare at someone being so bold, but one doesn’t glare at Olander Wideblade.  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.  For now, let’s make sure everyone is settling in properly, yeah?”

“Yes sir.”  He does his best to keep his mind on ensuring his men pitch camp properly, but it keeps wandering to Thedeim and the reports.  Zero deaths.  He thought it was some artificial technicality, or maybe the dungeon is particularly good at hiding any bodies.  But with the Crown Inspectors confidence… is it true?

Could he actually get his men the experience they need, without having to pay the price in widows and orphans?