REFORGING THE EDGE

Summary: Tiffany and Fiona read Edge of Destiny, to confusion and hilarity. The next morning, Fiona meets Sieran and the Priory team and they start southwards. Forgal is told about the mission to Ascalon, and he accepts. Meanwhile, Tiffany thinks about the Vigil and its capabilities. Later in the day, Fiona's group arrive at Sorrow's Embrace and set up camp. The next morning, Tiffany and Forgal meet Vargok in Smokestead and head north.

Chapter twenty-one: Separation

Author's Notes:

EEeee! I love this story, it's going so well!

This chapter is mostly traveling, but there's a bit of other stuff as well.

By the way, I do get attached to the weirdest things. Even the following line in bold and italics has sentimental value now. I know, I am crazy.

Okay, here's the story now:

As it turns out, they do read Edge of Destiny that night.

Tiffany picks up the book, identifies the name of the new section as Part 3 - Battling Dragons and the following chapter name as Chapter 26 - Seeking the Sanctum, and begins reading.

The grandiose opening entry describing Destiny's Edge - their full names and titles ("Caithe of the Firstborn,") - is indicative of something promising coming next.

Eir notes the far-off ridge in the distance, and Caithe realizes they have to cross through a defile. When Rytlock grumbles about rockslides, Fiona laughs. "It's referencing itself," she notes. "I like it when books do that."

"It means the person who wrote it was paying attention to what they were writing," Tiffany smirks. "That, or they're being realistic."

Destiny's Edge approaches nearer to the ridge, and when they get there, Rytlock grumbles about going into the canyon, but he follows in with the rest anyway.

"Wow, it's hot," Eir said, her voice echoing from the walls. Then, in italics, it says Those two asura are like chestnuts in an oven. Not-italics, it continues, "Very compassionate," Snaff replied tersely.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Must have. I heard it out loud," Snaff said. Italics again, You're brain's so close to the sun, it's probably getting baked. Not italics, "It's hot enough, we don't need to be sniping at each other," Eir replied. Italics. And don't even start making tall jokes. You don't know how many short jokes I've suppressed. New paragraph, but still italics - this is getting weird, Fiona."

"I think they're talking mentally," Fiona returns. "Italics always means mental talking."

"Yeah, that's my guess too. Okay, new paragraph, still italics - Short jokes! Oh, yes, you're above us all, Miss Titan! Another paragraph, not italics this time. "Leave her alone," Zojja put in. Italics, You can't stand having someone else in charge of you. Not italics. "Would you all just shut it?" Rytlock snarled.

"That's just the thing," Eir said. "We haven't been talking."

"Oh you haven't?" the charr roared. "News to me."

"Rytlock is awesome," Fiona chokes out between giggles.

Tiffany just nods, an uncontrollable grin on her face. "Alright, italics now - Rytlock's paragraph - You never stop talking. All these soft races, all they do is talk, talk talk - talk you to death." No italics now, new paragraph. "Soft races?" Logan spat. Italics. What about short races - Runtlock and the striplings?

I'm twice your height now.

Yeah, and four times my weight, Gruntlock.

Gruntlock!"

Fiona laughs. "You are an awesome voice-actor. I'd never be able to get that degree of shocked incredulity."

Tiffany smirks. "I practice."

"Of course you do," Fiona retorts. "Go on."

"Not italics. "Don't you see what's happening here?" Eir asked. Italics now. Oh, I'm sure you're about to tell us.

She knows everything.

Yes, quiet everyone! Let us listen to the mighty norn."

"Who said that?" Fiona asks, gasping in laughter. "Who said that?"

"It - it doesn't say," Tiffany manages, trying to stifle her own laugh. "Not italics now. "We're hearing each other's thoughts," Eir said. Italics now, new paragraph: Brilliant!

Thanks for explaining the obvious. Not italics. "The things we would never say to each other are coming right out."

"Well, maybe they should come out," Rytlock growled. "I gave this guy a Blood Legion pendant, and he's calling me Gruntlock."

Logan replied, "It was a private thought. And I wouldn't even have thought it if you hadn't called us soft."

"I was talking about how you people won't shut up!" Rytlock roared.

"It's not a matter of shutting up. You're reading our thoughts!"

"Well then, stop thinking!" Italics now, Easy for a charr. Not italics. "What kind of place is this?" Caithe wondered.

"It's the kind of - sorry, that's italics too. Um, they're talking in a mix of thoughts and words the rest of the page, can I just skip saying - "

"Yes, yes," Fiona agrees. "It's messing it up."

Tiffany nods. "It's the kind of place we have to get through, Eir reponded, which will be easier if we all take Rytlock's advice and stop thinking. How do you stop thinking? Oh look, Snaff and Zojja say the same exact thing. How do you stop thinking? Snaff and Zojja wondered simultaneously."

"Because they're asura!" Fiona realizes with a giggle.

"Yup," Tiffany nods. "You haven't heard anything from me in a long while, Rytlock put in. Do what I do.

Grunting keeps you from thinking? Logan thought. When Rytlock turned to him, he said, "Sorry. It was there in my brain before I could stop it."

You think of me as an animal! Rytlock raged.

Garm shot him an angry look. Oh, the detail in this!" Tiffany laughs. "That must be the funniest thing this whole conversation. "Oh, that's hilarious."

Fiona just nods.

"Not an animal," Logan said. Then, in italics again, "More like a monster. Rytlock's eyes grew wide. I mean - a good one. A good monster that will fight on our side.

So, you think I'm a traitor to my race?

You're fighting beside a human being. You're supposed to be killing me -

I may yet change my mind.

Eir broke in. You have to shut down your thinking. Or, if you can't do that, think nice thoughts.

In other words, don't think about Klab, Snaff told himself.

Zojja threw her hands up. You're obsessed with him.

He makes iceboxes!

You don't respect anyone but yourself.

I respect you.

Yeah, right - genius in training.

Haven't I promoted you?

No.

Well, now you're an almost-genius.

Thanks a lot!

You just jumped a whole level!

An imaginary level! I just helped defeat three dragon champions, and everyone still sees me as your assistant!

Is that all you can think of? What I call you? The whole while that we're working together, you've been thinking that you're the real genius!

Now we both know it! And what's all this "working together" crap? You order me around like I'm no better than Garm! Youch, I wonder what Eir thinks of that," Tiffany grimaces.

"Or Garm," Fiona points out.

"Right. Garm turned angry eyes toward Big Zojja.

So, I should worry about this cockpit weld, should I? Snaff wondered. Put some kill feature in it, did you? Something to get rid of the master so you can take his place?

Is that what you think? That I would compromise a design like that? That I would try to kill you?

It's the secret desire of every apprentice, Snaff thought, adding, but not so secret now.

Eir yelled, "why can't you two just stop thinking?"

Snaff and Zojja both thought, We're asura. Perfect response."

Fiona giggles. "Absolutely."

"We're being tested," Caithe said softly."

As Destiny's Edge realize that Glint is trying to figure them out, Tiffany's frown is increasing. "Didn't Glint help them?" she asks finally. "I don't remember my research too well, so I might be forgetting, but I was fairly sure Glint helped them fight Kralkatorrik."

"Well, we'll wait and see," Fiona shrugs. "Nothing we can do about it now."

Tiffany nods and reads on. Destiny's Edge share unifying thoughts - having fun together, celebrating together, fighting together - and soon they are out of the odd ravine.

"Do you think we'll finish the book tonight?" Fiona wonders. She isn't sure if she wants to - she and Tiffany had had a lot of fun reading together, more than Fiona had thought she would when they started out - but they also need to move on and deal with present-time Destiny's Edge.

Tiffany shrugs. "We'll see, I guess."

Destiny's Edge, now free of the thought-sharing enchantment, talk over what had just happened and apologize for some of the things that had been thought. Rytlock even admits he liked it when Logan called him a monster, and Snaff tells Zojja that she'll be her own master any day now, despite not wanting to let her go. Eir notes that Caithe didn't think anything unkind, to which Caithe responds that she doesn't have any unkind thoughts - and if she did, she'd say them.

Then, they settled down to their task. Zojja scanned for Glint's magical signature… but they were going in circles. Eventually, they came to a stop. Rytlock's joke about the sanctum being in Logan's boot brings several laughs from Tiffany and Fiona, and then Destiny's Edge settles down for the night.

Next morning, they awaken, unsure what to do.

"Why do they think Glint's sanctum is in a grain of sand?" Fiona asks.

Tiffany shrugs. "No idea. Glint's kinda famous - for humans, at least - maybe there's some legend about her sanctum being in a grain of sand?"

Tiffany reads on - Snaff realizes that Glint's sanctum is like Sandy the golem, and the enchantmend hiding the sanctum vanishes. The description of the high domed archways is enthralling, but the members of Destiny's Edge draw their weapons in readiness, while still taking in the sancturm. The book notes the glowing spear on the wall.

"That must be the Dragonsblood Spear," Tiffany tells Fiona. "Rytlock used that to try and kill Kralkatorrik."

"Right," Fiona nods. "If the Spear is here, then either Glint gives it to them or they kill Glint."

"Glint dies either way," Tiffany points out. She glances back at the book and continues reading.

Glint makes her presence known, and Destiny's Edge forms up, Eir nocking her arrows and Garm's eyes blazing - but they can't see her, and Glint speaks again, saying she knows why they are there. Eir retorts that they are here to stop her from waking her master, and Glint returns that they can't stop it. Rytlock attacks and Glint retaliates.

"Destiny's Edge skidded like toys across the floor. Ouch, that's indicative of Glint's power."

Fiona nods. "Youch."

Destiny's Edge come together again - haphazardly, but they're still kicking. Glint downs them again. Eir manages to stay upright, and nocks three arrows specifically for dragons, declaring that Glint would not raise her master.

Glint retorts that she has no wish to do so, but Eir informs her that she will not be deceived. "I can't, but a wretch from the Nightmare Court can?" Glint asks scathingly.

"Right," Fiona recalls. "Faolain sent them. I think Glint's on their side."

"Me too," Tiffany nods.

Glint informs them that soon they will kill a true dragon. She then proceeds to give a minor history lesson about some of her other interactions with humans. Eir asks whether Glint knows who Destiny's Edge is, and insists that they will not let Glint raise her master.

Glint acknowledges that she does know the damage Destiny's Edge has inflicted on dragonkind, telling them that the fight ahead of them has little hope of success, but they can succeed if they stand together.

Glint finally explains that she is on their side, and Eir demands to know the name of the dragon she thought Glint had intended to raise.

"Wait, she didn't know?" Fiona asks in confusion.

"Apparently not," Tiffany shrugs.

Eir wonders why Glint is telling them this, and Glint tells them of Tyria when the dragons ruled, and how she came to fear Kralkatorrik. She ends with informing them that "if you call me a dragon, you must call him a mountain. If you call me a dragon, you must call him a god. […] we will be fighting a hurricane." Next chapter, do you want to go on?" Tiffany asks.

Fiona ponders a moment. There's still plenty of time, and they won't get another chance for a while. "Yes," she says.

"Alright, then!" Tiffany says cheerily. "It's called Dragonrise. Chapter twenty-seven."

"How many chapters are there?"

Tiffany flips back, looking for a table of contents, but there isn't any. "I don't know. Probably several, given the amount of pages between here and the end of the book. Anyway. Chapter twenty-seven, Dragonrise."

It starts off with explaining why Tyria should have known a dragon was rising, listing other things like the Great Tsunami that happened to Tyria. then, it switches to the perspective a charr named Ferroc Torchtail.

"Oohh, Torchtail," Tifany says. "Torch warband or Tail?"

Fiona snorts in laughter. "I'd say Torch."

"Yeah, prolly. Anyway."

Ferroc seems to be the only smart charr in several warbands - he has the sense to run when Kralkatorrik rises, unlike his warbandmates who run to their deaths. Ferroc is Branded, but he actually gets to comprehend what is going on first.

It skips back to Glint and Destiny's Edge, planning their moves against Kralkatorrik. Glint gives the Dragonsblood Spear to Rytlock, saying that she will pin him down for Rytlock to get to. Snaff inserts that he can help with that - yes, despite (and mostly because of) Kralkatorrik's sandstormy nature. Because, you know, Sandy! Snaff explains that he can wrestle Kralkatorrik's mind to the ground, by use of blood crystals and powerstone laurels.

At Glint's doubt that he could fake down Kralkatorrik, Zojja retorts (in true Zojja fashion) that Snaff stared down Jormag. He can stare down Kralkatorrik. Glint presents several problems, all of which are overruled by Destiny's Edge. Yeah, Kralkatorrik won't let her put the laurel on him - big deal, fight him off. Minions will come. Yeah, yeah, that's what the rest of the team is for. But there's thousands of them! There's only three entrances, we can guard them easily enough.

And then the chapter is over.

"Wanna go on?" Tiffany asks.

Fiona frowns. "I think we should be ready to get an early start tomorrow. I'd love to finish the book before we both go our separate ways for a few weeks, but I have no idea what's gonna happen tomorrow."

"Alright," Tiffany nods. "You get to sleep, I'll be downstairs doing random weird stuff."

"Now you've got my curiosity," Fiona returns. "What'll you be doing?"

"Alright, I was telling you in Tiffany language, now I'll tell you in normal-people language," Tiffany jokes. "I haven't the slightest clue - maybe I'll talk to Deborah, or maybe I'll help out in the tavern, or maybe - "

"I get the picture," Fiona laughs. "You go do your random weird stuff."

The next morning, Fiona hops through Tyria on the asura gates - from Divinity's Reach to Lion's Arch to Hoelbrak.

"Fiona!" Sieran calls.

Fiona glances to her right and sees a group of people - a multiracial group, of course - standing in a group. She makes her way over and introduces herself.

"Magister Fiona, this is Scholar Leon Traydor," she says, gesturing at a sharply dressed male human, who runs a critical eye over Fiona. "That is Explorer Kazakh Grimefur," Sieran continues, nodding at a charr with yellow fur, reminding Fiona of a lion. "And Explorer Izza, who mentioned the Aspect of Deception," Sieran finishes, glancing at an asura with an axe and an unlit torch tucked into her belt. Team, this is Magister Fiona."

"You're a mesmer?" Izza asks immediately, eyeing the staff and greatsword slung on Fiona's back.

"I am. How well can you handle the Aspect?" Fiona asks.

"Fairly well - I'm not as proficient as you, but I'm better than a thief. I've also got just a touch of Natural Fire to balance it out a tad," Izza grins ferociously. "Nobody expects a mesmer to blast fire at them."

Fiona grins. "I think we'll have fun." She turns to the rest of the team. The disregard of one's race in the Priory is evident - two humans, a charr, an asura and a sylvari, all with differing strengths. There aren't any norn, but the lack of care or concern about this just enhances that the Priory cares about skill, not race. "What can you tell me about yourselves? I want to know what you're good at and where you'll need support."

"I've got a touch of Deception in me," the human - Leon Traydor - shrugs, "but not much. Not more than enough to blend in and shadowstep, really. I'm an assassin - just a far-off, safe one," he grins, touching the pistols at his belt.

Fiona turns to the charr - Kazackah? He shrugs. "I'm more of an investigator than a fighter," he shrugs. "I can use a blade to some extent, but I'd rather leave the fighting to you."

Fiona nods with a smile. "I think this'll work out great. Sieran's more of a healing support person, so we're a well-balanced team. I just hope we don't appear too threatening to the dredge."

Leon Traydor's eyebrow goes up in a sharp curve. "We won't threaten the dredge?" he asks dryly. "That's a new one. We've always tried to hunt them down."

Fiona frowns in confusion. His voice had dripped sarcasm in the first sentence - as if the dredge normally threatened the Priory, but then he turend it into curiosity in the next sentence. She shrugs, though, and answers his question. "We're going in soft. Diplomatic-like, we'll convince them to let us investigate the place, and perhaps develop relations between them and the Durmand Priory. They could be useful against the Elder Dragons."

Leon shakes his head. "At least somebody's got their priorities straight," he grumbles.

"Well, let's get moving!" Sieran beams. "We want to get there and have time to set up camp before sunset, after all."

Fiona's eyebrows jump up. "Is that the timeframe we're working on?" she fishes her map out of her pocket and sighs at the distance between Hoelbrak and the green star. "Well, let's go. Sieran, you know this place best - you want to lead the way?"

Sieran nods cheerily and starts toward Southern Watchpost. The rest of the team pick up packs of supplies, and Fiona picks up the last one and follows after them.

As they walk, Leon sidles up to Fiona. When she looks at him askance, he shrugs. "Nobody else even mentioned the potential for dredge to help against the Elder Dragons. I had been starting to think the Priory had gotten sidetracked into simply gathering knowledge. I'm glad to find somebody who knows the danger."

Fiona smiles at him. "You should meet the Vigil sometime - or my sister."

"Who's your sister?" Leon asks.

"Tiffany's a Vigil Warmaster, and she is very dedicated to fighting the dragons. It's her main focus. She's… obsessed." Fiona chuckles at the use of the word, recalling the numerous times she had called her sister 'obsessed' with the game.

Leon grins at her. "I suppose you don't hold as much to the whole fighting aspect of defeating the Elder Dragons, then?"

Fiona frowns. "I wouldn't say that… it's more that we both agree that more than just fighting or just knowledge is going to beat them. I wasn't offered a place in the Vigil, anyway, and Tiffany wasn't offered one in the Priory, so we decided we'd split it up this way. Honestly, I've already become an honorary member of the Vigil."

Leon raises his eyebrows. "You're more serious about this than I thought."

"I'm glad to see you appreciate the need," Fiona returns with a smile.

The group continues in silence for a while, leaving Hoelbrak and the first few steadings behind as Sieran, consulting the map, leads them in the shortest route to Sorrow's Embrace.

Forgal is called by General Almorra to meet with her. Another charr is leaving the room as he goes in, and Forgal acknowledges him with a nod and continues in.

"Warmaster Forgal reporting, General," Forgal says, saluting.

"At ease, Forgal," Almorra tells him. "I called you here to ask your input on a mission. The Iron Legion needs help dealing with a particularly difficult Flame shaman. I had been going to send you and Warmaster Tiffany - "

"Tiffany's a Warmaster?" Forgal asks, shocked, belatedly realizing that he had just interrupted Almorra.

She doesn't seem to mind. "You didn't know? She played a pivotal role during the centaurs' attack."

Forgal just shakes his head mutely. "Excuse me for interrupting, General. Please continue."

Almorra watches him thoughtfully, but she continues, "I had been going to send you and Warmaster Tiffany, but you are both alienated at the present time. I have already briefed Warmaster Tiffany, and she has accepted the job, but I want to know if you would like to go with her."

Forgal pauses. "Does she know I could be there?"

"I informed her it could be a possibility, and asked her opinion. She said that while her guess would be that you would rather stay behind and think about things, I should ask your opinion on the matter. Take your time and think it over, Forgal."

Forgal nods slowly, considering. While he would rather not be sent on any mission with Tiffany and Fiona at the moment, Almorra had not mentioned any other Vigil being sent. Flame shamans, he knows, are nothing to be trifled with, especially Flame shamans that the Legions need help from the Vigil to defeat.

He is not worried about Tiffany and Fiona, but more about putting down this threat and moving on to the next one. The charr are a society of fighters - there is no such thing as 'civilian' or 'innocent,' particularly not in the warzone with the Flame Legion - but if the charr can stop fighting the Flame Legion they can focus their attentions on the dragons.

"Will there be any other assignment while - if - we're there?" Forgal asks.

"Likely you'll be asked to stay for quite a while," Almorra nods. "After the Flame shaman, you will be free to return, so it is up to you."

Under normal circumstances, given the choice, Fogal would have gone to help the Iron Legion defeat this Flame shaman. Tiffany and Fiona, however, complicate things. Tiffany's response to the question about Forgal coming along had been spot-on… mostly. Forgal would appreciate the chance to think things over without the possibility of seeing Tiffany, but he does prefer the idea of getting it all over with quickly, and having a long stall in the middle of their… negotiations is not entirely good for it.

And he can watch and observe her, and see how she behaves. Being with somebody all the time is a good way to tell if somebody is genuine or not… except for Asvor. But he knows now that Asvor is different. But watching cannot be a bad thing.

"I'll go," Forgal says finally. "When and where?"

"You'll meet Legionnaire Vargok in Smokestead, just outside the Black Citadel, on Monday morning. It'll likely take a day and maybe a bit more to get there. Forgal, will you be able to avoid… conflict with Warmaster Tiffany?"

Forgal frowns. She is obviously referring to his outburst when Tiffany had told him his secret, but he feels no desire to hurt her now. He thinks of her as an aquaintance now, somebody he can fight with on the field of battle but go separate ways afterwards. She is… mostly neutral to him, actually.

"We'll be fine, General," Forgal replies gruffly.

Tiffany is wandering around the tavern, feeling slightly lost without Fiona. Fiona has been with her since they came to Tyria - very little times they were ever apart - and now she won't be seeing her sister for weeks. She feels slightly lonely.

'Well,' she reasons, 'all the more motivation to get the Pact started. We can work together.' Thinking of the Pact puts her in a good mood, and she begins humming a random tune. It does make her wonder what Trahearne is up to right now - in Orr, researching its history or exploring or something. Maybe he's found the ruin of an old castle or something. Maybe the Dead Ships are taking off from Orr and coming to Lion's Arch, led by Blightghast the Plaguebringer.

Tiffany frowns as a thought occurs to her. How does Trahearne get to and from Orr anyway? He has to have a ship of his own, right? But one person can't sail a ship. Sheknows that much. So there must be a crew to sail it. She decides there might be an interesting story behind that thought. Who sails it? Why?

"Hey, Tiff," Deborah calls, interrupting Tiffany's thoughts. "Why didn't you go with Fiona? You two normally go everywhere together."

"I've got a Vigil mission tomorrow," Tiffany shrugs. "I couldn't be back in time to get there if I went with Fiona."

"What'll you be doing?" Deborah asks with interest.

Tiffany smirks at her. "I'm going up to help the charr fight the Flame Legion. They've got a rowdy Flame shaman blocking their progress."

Deborah frowns. "It's still so… weird, knowing we're at peace with the charr now. We've been at war since… since forever."

Tiffany nods. "It expands our horizons. While the people of Divinity's Reach might still be hostile toward the charr, everyone knows that if somebody attacks a charr then the Ebonhawke Treaty is shattered. The problem is that humans rarely go anywhere but inside Kryta, unless they join an organization like the Vigil. Same for charr. So it is doubtful that the animosity will go away anytime soon, and that is… well, it's sad."

Deborah nods. "I know what you mean. But there isn't actually that much resentment here - the war with the charr was always far-off at Ebonhawke, and people were focusing on the centaurs. I'm sure it'll clear up."

Tiffany sighs. "I hope so. I just don't like seeing the races so divided. There's only four crossing points - the Orders and Lion's Arch. Like two pieces of fabric held together by four strings - if those strings are cut, most people will never see anyone not of their own race. But the dragons are coming. There's Risen in Lychcroft Mere, and it isn't because of Kellach anymore. They're spreading, and not much we can do about it - the Seraph don't know how to handle undead."

"What about the Vigil? They handled it last time."

"And I told General Almorra about it. But…" Tiffany sighs in frustration. "There's only so much that can be done by beating the minions. Zhaitan'll just raise them again, or create more. The most the Vigil can do is protect the innocents, and that will keep getting harder as more minions come. They won't let up and they won't sit still. There's nothing we can do for now, just hold them off as long as we can until we find a way to kill the Elder Dragons. But the Vigil can't…" Tiffany sighs again.

The Vigil can't fight Zhaitan alone. The Priory and the Order of Whispers need to be involved too. The Vigil had provided the bulk of the army, sure… but the Vigil alone does not have the knowledge to fight Zhaitan. They don't have Trahearne or the Priory's extensive study. They don't have the Order of Whispers devising sneaky, efficient ploys to get into Orr. And the Vigil doesn't have any of the other two Orders' technology - the asura in the Vigil are fighters, not inventors.

There is no way anything but the Pact can ever be effective against Zhaitan. While Tiffany has a firm view that the Pact will happen - it can't not happen - holding off the Risen and ensuring people stay safe is the Vigil's job until the Pact happens. She is slightly frustrated with her assignment - the Flame Legion are not dragons. But if the charr are free from fighting the Flame Legion, they'll have more people to send to help the Pact, at the same time as maybe making advances on the ghosts and Branded - and the charr only divided between three things will be a lot more effective than the charr divided against the humans, Flame Legion, ghosts and Branded. Half the targets, twice the firepower per target. And the charr had been brutally effective before.

Tiffany sighs. Yes, helping the charr fight the Flame Legion will help, and massively… she just wants to feel like she is doing more that directly contributes to her goal.

"Tiffany?" Deborah says again, jerking Tiffany out of her thoughts.

"Sorry, I was thinking."

Deborah rolls her eyes. "Of course you were thinking. You're always thinking."

"So are you," Tiffany retorts. "And be glad of it."

Deborah raises a quizzical eyebrow, and Tiffany rolls her eyes. "Thinking is better than not thinking, right?"

"But who wouldn't be thinking?"

"Dead people. So be glad you're thinking. Actually, I'm sure some dead people still think… hmm. Arggh, Deborah, stop it!"

Deborah laughs out loud. "You're weird, Tiffany."

Tiffany gasps. "You admit it!" she crows, pointing at her. "You admit I'm weird!"

"Yes, I do, and I'll say it again if you don't stop bouncing around like that," Deborah jokes.

"But I like being weird, and nobody ever acknowledges it," Tiffany grumbles. "Not even Fiona."

"But you see, she's almost as weird as you, so it's less apparent to her," Deborah explains. "You stay here and think your oh-so-deep thoughts about whether dead people think or not and about Risen and beating up the stupid things."

Tiffany blinks once, slowly. "You summed me up in a single sentence!" she protests, flabbergasted. "I think deep thoughts - mostly about dead people - and I also think about Risen and killing dragon minions, and I'm totally weird! How'd you do that?"

Deborah laughs as she starts downstairs. "I know you, sis," she calls over her shoulder. "If you're bored why don't you come down and talk with the family? You'll be away for several weeks."

"Coming, coming," Tiffany grouches.

Fiona and Izza had been comparing notes about the Aspect of Deception, and Izza had been teaching Fiona about how she can twine Nature and Deception together. It is all very interesting.

Then, Sieran pulls Fiona aside. "The Granite Citadel is ahead. They're studing dwarven artifacts there! The people there know so much about the dwarves, its overwhelming. I've been many times, and each time they have new stuff to tell me about the dwarves."

"I'm sure they do," Fiona informs her, but, guessing her intent, says "I don't think we should stop there, though. The information will get back to the Priory regardless, and you can look it up in the archives later."

Sieran mock pouts, but she can't hold it for long and she soon brightens again, something else catching her attention.

Fiona is starting to get slightly worried about their goal - convincing the dredge to be nice. Sieran isn't much of a diplomat - she is terribly blunt at times, and she doesn't like dredge in the first place. Inevitably, she knows, the burden of diplomacy will fall to her. She is not good at talking and being subtle and convincing people to do things when they don't want to. That's what Tiffany is good at, not her.

And Tiffany isn't here to even advise her. Fiona is not adverse to learning how to talk people into things, or learning in general, but most things are learnt with a teacher. And something like this can only be learnt with experience. She turns to Izza.

"It must require a lot of maneuvering to get Nature and Deception to work together," she comments.

"Oh, yes. They don't like each other all that much, and it takes a long while for me to work any magic that involves them both, and its rather exhausting."

"Huh," Fiona nods.

Later, after the group locates the entrance to Sorrow's Embrace - Izza found it, using her limited Nature affinity to dampen her smell and her Deception to muffle her footfalls - they find a ravine to set up camp in. Kazakh arranges a makeshift covering for the entrance of the ravine, and Fiona makes it look like solid stone instead of a ravine.

As the others scurry around setting the new camp in order, Fiona slips out through the illusionary stone wall and sets off for the entrance to Sorrow's Embrace. She left a portal near the ravine, and is ready to portal out at any sign of danger.

The dredge, however, seem to rely more on their noses than any other sensitive organ - their work with sonic equipment probably deafens them to some degree, and they're blind to begin with - and Fiona finds herself quickly popping out. She'll need Izza to dampen her scent. She returns to the ravine as the sun sinks below the horizon.

"Alright, team," Fiona says. "We'll start work tomorrow. For now, let's all get a good night's sleep."

"Who stands watch?" Leon asks.

Fiona blinks, but Sieran takes care of it. "There's five of us," she explains. "We'll divide the time equally."

'But… how?' Fiona wonders. 'We can't see the sun at night.'

It seems that Kazakh had asked the same question.

"The flowers!" Sieran beams, producing a red-petaled flower from somewhere. "This one changes during the night and day cycles." As Sieran explains how the flower works and when the next shift begins, Fiona finds herself wondering how the flower is still fresh. Sieran is a sylvari; she could have grown the flower out of herself, or maybe she just uses magic - she can touch the Aspect of Nature, so combining earth and water to make a suitable environment for the flower might be easy enough.

It turns out that Fiona's shift is to be near dawn. She crawls into her bedroll and quickly drifts off to sleep.

Monday morning, Vargok is waiting at Smokestead waypoint for the two Warmasters assigned to his unit at Cowlfang's Star. The Flame shaman has already killed a company of charr - three warbands, all crispified. Including his own. The Forge warband had survived longer than the others - they knew how to deal with the rogue flames from Scorchy, his flamethrower - but they had been cut down, as well. Only Vargok's quick thinking and the ever-so-slight touch of the Aspect of Fiery Nature that made him so adept with Scorchy had saved him.

The Vigil Warmasters, however, he is certain can beat this shaman. He'd seen the horde of centaurs that Warmaster Tiffany had held off. He can respect that kind of ability. And Warmaster Forgal is known as the strict and militant norn that can power through any enemy.

'He fights Icebrood, though, not Flame Legion. Maybe he can't handle them.' Vargok smirks in amusement at the thought. Of course the Warmaster can handle the Flame Legion. They have to - for his warband's sake. He should have squirted Scorchy at them more often and made them more adept at managing flames. The Forge warband had taken on the challenge of this Flame shaman. He had promised his centurion, as the legionnaire of the Forge warband, that they would take down the Flame shaman. Now his warband is dead… but he can still defeat the shaman with the help of the Vigil.

He hadn't exactly told the truth to General Almorra - the Iron Legion isn't requisitioning Vigil soldiers, they are requiring Vargok to kill the Flame shaman. Close enough, with his warband's honor on the line.

Warmaster Tiffany and her bear appear from the direction of the Black Citadel, charr every which way staring hard at her. She does have a Vigil rank insignia displayed on her shoulder, however, and they leave her alone more than if she hadn't. Vargok nods. She's smart. He hadn't seen enough of her in General Almorra's office to know much about her, but he'd trusted the General, and hopes that trust is not in vain. And not being stupid is the first test.

As his centurion sees it, the two Warmasters will be under his command. He has to make sure they understand that before something goes wrong.

As Warmaster Tiffany approaches, she looks curiously at him.

Right. His fur is still singed from that stupid asura blasting fire at him. Maybe she should blast fire at the Elder Dragons instead. She's perfectly capable of doing so, and the fact that she isn't is infuriating.

He addresses the Warmaster, pushing his grouchy thoughts about Zojja aside. "Within the Vigil, you are my superior, Warmaster," he informs her. "As a temporary ally of the Iron Legion and the Forge warband, you are under my command."

The Warmaster nods easily. "I see. Where is your warband?"

"The Flame shaman we're going to take down killed them," Vargok replies shortly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says instantly, wincing.

Vargok huffs. "You're not here to be sad about the deaths of people you've never met, Warmaster. You're here to take down a threat to the Allied Legions, and if desire for revenge for the deaths of people you've never met spurrs you on, go right on thinking that." Despite his words, Vargok is slightly touched at her concern, at the same time as irritated at her softness. People die. It happens. The best anyone can do is live up to their example and continue honoring their name.

"Understood, Legionnaire," The Warmaster nods, saluting.

Vargok nods sharply. At least she understands charr culture. "Remember, you are not a member of the Forge warband - merely allies in the fight. Address me as Legionnaire, but I am not your Legionnaire."

Tiffany nods again.

The two stand in silence until Warmaster Forgal arrives. Vargok tells this Warmaster the same thing about authority he had told Tiffany, and then the three get moving.

Vargok had heard from General Almorra that there was tension and distrust between the two Warmasters, and he is slightly resentful that he had been saddled with such a problematic pair, but he is determined to keep their minds on the task.

Author's Notes:

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Also, writing from Vargok's perspective gave me a new clue for the betterment of my writing - I shall endeavour to write from other people's perspectives as much as possible, to give the people personality. Imagine how fun a chapter from Legionnaire Aelius's perspective would be? Or the perspective of Sieran?