Niko awoke with what felt like cotton in his head and a pulsing headache. Not the worst condition he’d ever awoken in, but enough that Niko’s first thought was, ‘Ugh… is this a hangover without the drinking? That’s unfun.’

His second thought jolted through him like cold water down his spine, ‘Oh, peck me, that just happened. What did Venris do? What did Bant do, or, no, what did he try to do!?’ Niko panicked, trying to determine what had changed in his body. He certainly remembered Venris doing something, and so he did his best to focus inwards. The familiar sensation of sinking beset his mind, but this time it was rapidly over, his awareness of what he now recognized as the outer shell of his soul coming in clear.

‘This… what is this?’ Niko balked at what seemed to be a brand that marked his soul. It thumped in his awareness whenever he concentrated on it like a beating heart, and somehow he could feel sensations from it. It smelled like copper and smoke, the scent of barbecued meat, and felt like cold steel, running over with warm blood. Yet, for all the touch of what Niko now knew as Bant’s forte, there was a strange distortion that rang out from it. Like a beltone that cut through the din, there was a sense of direction to it, something that orchestrated the chaos of the brand.

‘But what does it actually do!?’ A frustrated Niko cawed at it frustratedly. Nothing happened at his outburst, however, and Niko felt his frustration mounting as he prodded and poked it. ‘Still nothing. There must be some other activation method, right?’ Niko sighed, before begrudgingly doing a once over on the rest of his soul. His two blessings from Alterra and Venris were larger, much more active, but he found them no less indiscernable than they’d been before. Feeling thoroughly defeated, and finding no other oddities, Niko kicked and weakly flapped his wings in dismay, as he came out of his mindscape.

“Don’t move around too much,” Niko heard Skye’s voice beside him in reality, “You bottomed out on essence on top of Mithel’s potion overdrawing your body’s reserves.”

He opened his mouth to ask a question, and instead succeeded only in rasping his exceedingly dry throat, painfully. Skye put a bowl of water in front of him that vaguely smelled like berries before saying, “Drink slowly. There’s a little bit of essence enriched berries crushed up in it.”

Niko wordlessly nodded his thanks and began to do just that, finding that it tasted vaguely like strawberries. While he did so, he began to take stock of where they were. They, along with much of the rest of the guilders and guards that had come down with them, were all laying in one of the larger intersections, that had been made at least functional to reside in by what looked to be spare blankets and whatever other materials had been found. Niko noted that Sasha and Thokk were nearby, gathered around with the rest of the Wyldwalkers, with Niko resting next to the pillar.

“You’ve been out for thirty minutes,” Ronald informed him, “We’ve been instructed to stay put. Camille judged that no one in our group was going to be much help to anyone if we went topside, and she’s watching the tunnel to be sure nothing comes through in spite of the gas. Crowe and Oum are helping to evacuate people.”

Niko nodded before trying to talk, the words coming out roughly, “How well is that going?”

Skye’s expression turned grim as she relayed the news, shared by several others. “The Guildhouse stands, but we’ve lost some people. The Baron’s estate suffered a major breach and the hornets managed to steal away a lot of people,” even as Ronald spoke, he looked ill, “The last of the populace is getting underground now, though.”

The news sat heavily on Niko’s mind as he lightly clucked in thanks for them sharing it with him. The words ‘major breach’ resounded through his ears, and Niko didn’t want to imagine how many people had been lost in all. If nothing else, he didn’t think they could have worked any faster than they had.

“On the flip side,” Dachna started, “Most of the goblins are cleared out or scattered down here, enough so that dealing with them isn’t going to be that much of a concern. Killing that Shaman did wonders for driving them off.”

There were a few scattered, mild cheers at that, but the atmosphere was still predominantly morose.

Feeling the beleaguered atmosphere, Sasha stood up and roared. The sound surprised Niko and the others, and was still echoing throughout the waterways as Sasha addressed their remaining group, "Come, this is not how warriors are supposed to be after emerging victorious! We successfully defeated a tier four Dawr Shaman and secured these tunnels, did we not?"

Niko, in spite of himself, shook his head with some cheer. “What’s she saying?” Skye asked a question clearly on a lot of minds. Niko relayed her words, and after Skye finished doing the same, she smirked, “Well, I guess that’s true, isn’t it?”

“It’s not that simple, though.” Ronald frowned, “We lost a lot of people, that’s not something to be happy about.”

“A battle without casualties isn’t a battle,” Thokk rumbled, “The celebration of a victory is not only for those still among the living, it is done also to give meaning to those that passed while fighting.”

There was a long silence before someone started to laugh. Niko searched for the source, finding a woman surrounded by her team. It was the same team that Niko had helped, though he realized that the air around them seemed heavy. The woman’s teammates looked at her with confusion, and concern, like they feared their friend had just come unhinged.

“Y’know, it’s funny, but he would have said he d–” her voice hitched as she started to say a word, and instead changed it to “–had a warrior’s end.”

The rest of her team nodded and chuckled sadly at that, before she pulled out a flask, “To Burke!”

She then placed the flask to her lips and chugged down several gulps, only to level it back out again with a long and dramatic hiss of her breath. Niko would have thought the sound was fake if she didn’t wheeze during it and tear up, “By Mohr, Burke, what the fuck did you put in this flask?”

One of her companions frowned at that, before wordlessly holding out a hand. She passed the flask to the companion, who took a deep swig and passed it over to someone else. But, not before doing nearly the same thing, “Pox my arse, how much cinnamon did you put in this…”

Niko didn’t feel like he was intruding on this moment of theirs somehow, feeling, instead, like it was shared.

Ronald shuffled loudly in his armor, half lifting and half dragging the team's pack over to him. He pulled out a large bottle, just as the overly-cinnamon’ed spirit made a full circle around the other team. They said something too low for Niko to hear, and laughed, a kind of bittersweet sound to his ears. While they did, Ronald set the bottle down, frown deepening as he looked into the pack with confusion. He pulled out two cups, and looked around while blinking, “I don’t have enough cups.”

“I got some,” a familiar man said, the one who had the large sword and had given Ronald lip while they were fighting goblins, “And booze. But… uh… fair warning, it’s homebrew and is a lot better chilled.”

“I can do chilled,” Niko looked over to the frost mage, who scooted inwards, “We have some food.”

“We’ve got some rations we can share,” a party of guards said, “It’s hard tack, but it’s pretty good hardtack.”

“You’d eat rocks, Tabby.” Her companion said with a note of dismay.

“In lieu of the captain,” a third spoke up, “Shut up, Terrance.”

The three chuckled as they scooted tiredly towards the guilders, and Niko felt warmth as more and more people began to share what little they had. Tears flowed, but whenever someone began to cry, anyone around played along, not making a scene of it. A few people started to talk about what they’d accomplished, and Niko found himself intensely curious whenever someone began to talk about his own interventions throughout the day.

Everyone made sure to keep their intake mild, but Niko was fairly certain that most of these people could work through at least a little intoxication.

“Thanks, you two,” Niko chirped at Thokk and Sasha.

“It’s nothing,” Sasha said, though given how pleased she looked, he was certain that it wasn’t nothing, “This is just how things should be.”

‘How things should be, huh?’ Niko thought to himself, no less self-satisfied than Sasha. ‘I think I like it.’

For several minutes Niko simply basked in the celebrations, while Skye sat beside him. They occupied themselves in cleaning some of the filth off of their bodies where they could. Skye had a bucket of water and a scrub brush, along with a very mild soap. Partway through, Mithel joined in on helping comb out the combined goblin and hornet ichor and filth from both Niko and a suddenly very interested Sasha. Thokk was more or less clean, aside from his claws and front, which he simply coated in sand and gradually groomed out with clever essence manipulation.

It wasn’t the best cleaning job Niko had ever had, but considering how bone tired he was, he doubted he would have done any better in his current state. Several times he became aware of injuries he hadn’t even realized he’d taken.

His neck, especially, hurt every time he swallowed water, the bruising from the champion’s fist slowly but surely coming in beneath his plumage. With light applications of bandages and salves, Niko realized that he had severely underestimated how much damage he’d taken. Much of it was superficial, but there were a few injuries that were deeper punctures, cuts, and otherwise that Mithel and Skye helped to stitch up. Though, considering how much he’d been on the frontline, Niko wasn’t that surprised with how much he’d been wounded. Though, comparing himself to Ronald, it looked almost like the big human had been mostly untouched, save for a few new scrapes on his armor and gore from his attacks.

Dachna, on the other hand, sported just as many nicks and scrapes as Niko did, though thankfully he lacked anything more severe. Aside from a hearty bruise on his backside from landing on the stone beneath both the shaman and Niko’s weight.

“How many times have you landed on me today, Niko?” Dachna groused while he tried to stretch out, only to whimper lightly instead, “Ugh, that’s going to hurt so much more tomorrow.”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Mithel said as she gently placed a large, padded bandage over the bruise, with plentiful salve beneath it.

Dachna jerked with a yelp, “Wow, that’s cold.”

Mithel snorted, “It’ll warm up. Here, drink a little of this,” Her words were accompanied by a small flask of some pale white liquid, “Only a little bit, though. It’s a painkiller and anti-inflammatory.”

The rogue did just that before letting Mithel resume her ministrations, while Skye spread a salve over her own arms. Much of the burns had been outright blocked by the bark that had grown on her arms, but Niko saw that some of it seemed to have blackened onto her limbs. One particularly large cluster of bark covered where she’d been stabbed through the shoulder, and Skye surprised Niko by being able to use the limb at all. Gingerly, she wrapped her arms and shoulder in bandages as best as she could before tying them off. All the while, she made no noise of protest at the pain, and–to Niko–annoyingly refused to ask for help in treating herself.

Ronald spoke up, then, “Seems that the last of the groups are being brought down. The Guildmaster is locking down the entrances.”

Niko perked up at that, before trying to decide if he wanted to stand or not. Skye, beside him, let out a brief sigh before lifting herself off of the ground. With a low groan, Niko lifted himself up as well. The other Wyldwalkers also picked themselves up off the ground to the sounds of Dachna muttering under his breath.

“We don’t have to go to see him,” Ronald said even as he continued to pick up his things.

“No, we don’t,” Skye nodded, but left unsaid the same thing the rest of them felt in their bones.

‘It feels like we should be there.’ Niko thought to himself, imagining the same thing going through the other’s heads.

The group moved onwards, only a scant few other teams or their representatives willing to come with. They were hardly fit for duty, but they felt something in the air that called them to witness.

It was strange, Niko really could feel something in the air pulling them to the guildhouse exit, but he couldn’t tell where exactly it came from. ‘Omnipresent, that’s the word I’m looking for…’ Niko thought to himself, ‘This must be some pilgrimage deal. I guess the only question is if that’s a good thing or not.’

They moved through cramped and crowded tunnels, full of people, while trying to avoid stepping on anyone. More and more people passed by on the other side, trying to get farther out into the waterways where it was less cramped. A handful of guilders, mostly spent or wounded, sometimes both, passed by occasionally, doing their best to herd panicked, stressed people into areas with lower density.

By the time they reached the exit, Niko had seen more people in the tunnels than he’d personally seen in the city above ground. He couldn’t help but fear how many they’d lost during the evacuation, and seeing every face filled with anxiety and a low, smoldering terror worried Niko.

‘Soon, hopefully, we’ll get support and be able to drive the hornets off and retake the city.’ Niko thought to himself, before they arrived in front of an area cleared of debris and people around the exit. No one else came down the stairs, and only the sound of crashing stone announced the arrival of the person that their gathered number had come to see.

Orson and Crowe came down the stairs, Crowe was holding a wide metal crate, currently open, that resembled the larger communications crystals that Niko had seen before. Orson's tired eyes swept over the gathering with confusion, before settling on the Wyldwalkers. A glimmer of realization followed by acceptance flashed across his face, before a more neutral expression took its place.

They stepped into the room, just as another heavy crash of stone resounded from higher in the stairwell. Orson turned and closed the door behind him, the heavy bulkhead moving easily in his hands as he turned the crank.

“I have been the Guildmaster of Greenleaf for over two decades,” the man began with one turn of the crank, “I’ve seen it change hands and governance three times in that span.”

He cranked the door once more.

“Before that, I was a high ranking guild member in the capital. I’ve been in the army, fought in three border wars, two up north, and one with an imperial upstart.” Orson cranked the door fully closed with a loud clang that rang with a certain finality to it, “And in all that time, I’ve never lost sight of the bigger picture.”

When Orson turned to face the guilders, guardsmen, and citizens of Greenleaf, his expression carried a certain resolve to it that looked very similar to what Mithel had looked like, when she activated that gas. “I’ve lost battles. I’ve lost people and prestige, but I’ve always had my eyes on the bigger picture, the war to win. That means that sometimes I’ve had to choose what to give up,” his eyes swept the assembled people, “And where I drew my bottom line.”

Niko glanced to Crowe, seeing the man with an uncharacteristically grim expression on his face.

Orson continued, “The hornets will be able to dig through the stone and brick of the sewer in less than two days. As of the last communication I’ve received, help is coming in three days. The tunnels outside of the waterways are filled with poisonous gas, due to the constant invasion of Dawr Goblins and other creatures that my high tier companions tell me are beyond their ability to deal with while protecting everyone.”

The statement met absolute silence, and instead of the panicked screams that Niko expected to hear, he could almost hear the dread in every heavy heart around him.

“I tell you this because I have my bottom line. People are my bottom line,” Orson looked at the assembled citizens, “You people are my bottom line. Greenleaf is my home, but it’s just a home. It’s replaceable. I hope you all can agree with that, and can see that what I’m about to do is for the sake of the bigger picture.”

Orson took the case from Crowe, before nodding to the man. Crowe stood away from Orson, joining the crowd next to the Wyldwalkers.

Ronald was the one who spoke, breaking the silence, “Sir, what are you planning?”

Before Orson could answer, Gram Magra put a hand on Ronald’s shoulder, having come up from within the crowd, “What needs to be done. Nobody needs to know anything more than that.”

Orson nodded in thanks to the guard captain at that, before taking a deep breath and placing a hand on the communication crystal in the console case. Niko saw the moment when essence built in the device, before it dispersed in a rapid wave.

“A city can be rebuilt,” Niko heard Orson’s words, “It only needs its people to survive.”

Immediately after his words, the world shook violently, the roar of sound penetrating from high above their heads into the earth. Niko felt a torrential essence wave more powerful than anything he’d ever felt ride along the percussive blast wave, just before he crashed into the floor. An aura blasted out from Crowe and Orson, accompanied by other more distant auras that covered as much of the waterways as they could.

It was just enough that Niko didn’t lose consciousness, but the same couldn’t be said for much of the tier one populace. They were thrown from their feet and didn’t rise again, and it was only the sight of their still thrumming essence that reassured Niko that they weren’t dead.

The thunderous rolling continued for what felt like minutes, until Niko began to feel incredible heat come from above.

And then, it stopped, the assault vanished as quickly as it had come. Orson and Crowe’s auras remained active, bolstered by anyone who was nearby and present of mind enough to know what was going on.

“Anyone who can move, start checking for wounded,” Orson called out, “Anyone with an ability to shield or bolster other abilities, help to maintain the shield above us for at least thirty minutes.”

Niko looked up, wondering what Orson was talking about, when he realized that the stones overhead were glowing with heat.

‘What the feathering peck just happened up there!?’ Niko swallowed hard, his wide eyed gaze shared by others, many of whom immediately began sharing in the load of blocking the heat and holding the ceiling to form.

“Gram, would you please ration out the last of the essence-potions to anyone willing to remain active?” Orson stated as a request.

The guard captain nodded gravely before turning to Ronald and the others, “Come on, follow me. I’ll answer whatever questions I can.”