Olimpia

Kathren jumped forward in small hops as she marched, trying to settle the weight of her armor and make it comfortable. Letting out a sight, she had to give up.

It was a futile effort. The armor was sitting fine, but Kathren had never felt right wearing armor when covered in grime. And this wasn't just grime.

The level of filth on her body would need to be scraped off with a knife before she bathed a half-dozen times and then cleaned her now filthy armor. She was throwing out a lowball number of bathing attempts, too, trying not to flinch at the level of work it would take to finally get clean.

It wasn't even her own mental hangups about being clean while wearing armor that was at play here, either. Putting armor on with all of the filth still on her skin was trapping it between two layers.

Experience told Kathren that her skin would be the losing side between the makeshift sand and the leather and steel shell pressing down. Which was slightly more annoying than the fetid puffs of air she occasionally got when the air between her skin and armor was pushed out.

There was no choice on her part. The legates decided the best option was a sudden and frontal assault on the slums.

The dark elves have been hiding for who knows how long and doing who knows what to who knows who… soo, throwing all subterfuge out the window seemed like the best choice. There was no shame in admitting when one was outclassed.

The Senatorial Guard legions were being placed on high alert for an attack or being called on for support, while the 15th was marching into the slums of Southtown to clear them out. Every building was to be scoured for secrets no matter what they were or who they belonged to.

Even the cavalry attached to the legions were taking part in the operation as they were being sent outside the walls of Southtown on patrol, looking for tunnel exits that any rats might come bursting out of.

Kathren was part of the first wave being sent into the slums. While the whole legion was ready to march, there was a big difference between fighting on the walls and searching a city.

And ensuring they did it right without creating holes for the rats to slip through was a genuine concern. It would take time for a proper plan to be developed and implemented.

Part of the time could be made up by the cohorts being stationed at the edges of the slums in preparation, but more than that could cause more problems than it would help.

But there was a real need for speed, as the dark elves probably already knew they were coming. So Kathren was sent out as something of a guide for three centuries to find and attack the dark elves' headquarters. A small enough force that it might be looked over but large enough to threaten pretty much anything that should be in a town.

Kathren was sure where the dark elves 'territory' was, as it took up the southwestern section of the third ring right next to where the Butcher hunted and was bordered on the other side by the old docks. But she never heard anything specific about it during her time in the slums.

Meaning she had nowhere to lead the centuries as they marched to attack the headquarters. After direct knowledge, she had the next best thing, though.

While she did not remember in the heat of the moment, the thought popped into her mind when she marched back to the fort with the century that saved her hours ago. Not that it was surprising she thought of it then, as Kathren was given plenty of time to reflect on her recent life choices.

After the first devastating attack on the 8th century of the 7th cohort in the 15th legion, there were only two more disordered ambushes, which were falling apart before they were even starting to charge.

Their path was eerily empty and left plenty of time for everyone's mind to wander into distraction. It was a bad situation where every second mattered when combating an ambush, but an attack never materialized to take advantage of it.

So Kathren was left to remember a gang that had recently burst into prominence in the slums. The Knife Ears. And she knew what tavern their mine base was. It was pretty obvious.

Kathren wasn't one to put too much stock into coincidences, but many gangs were named after their leaders. And it just so happened that she was led through alleys like a trapped rat before "escaping" right in time for a half-elf to wink at her as salvation appeared.

And her saviors were easily— no, it was worse than that, the 8th century was effortlessly dealt a devastating blow, taking over ten percent casualties, and then nothing. Kathren caught people shadowing them, but they never attacked.

There were just too many anomalies to brush off her conjecture as baseless.

Pounding on the door she just walked up to with a closed fist, Kathren stepped back and to the side past the doorframe. There was no need to stand in front of a door you had no idea what was on the other side of.

Seconds passed, and something behind the door thumped as it was moved, followed by the scraping of wood inside the room. Then, the surprisingly thick door slid open with not so much as a creek, and the gray light of the early morning lit up the figure's feet before he stepped onto the street.

It was the half-elf, a slight smile curling his lips. His arms were crossed over his loose-fitting, clean, white tunic. Slowly, he raised his left hand, holding a pipe up to his mouth, clamping the stem between his teeth.

Kathren's eyes flicked up and to the side, focusing on the image painted onto a wood square carved with intricate vines at its edges above the door. It was two knives, their hilts angled toward each other and separated by what would roughly be a head. The style of the knives and how they were angled… They really do look like ears.

Pulling her thoughts back to the present, Kathren said, "I believe you have a proposition for us."

The smile spreading over the man's face was smug as he breathed out a puff of smoke, then said, "Indeed." Slowly, the man half-turned, giving a sharp tilt of his head out of the building before turning and walking down the street.

Kathren heard the creaking of leather and shuffling of feet as the legionaries around her braced themselves for an attack that never came. Four other figures stepped out of the building, following the half-elf.

Three of them were big, burly men carrying small trees, but the fourth sent a shiver of fear down Kathren's spine as he slinked out of the shadow of the building into the light.

It was the wiry, knife-wielding man. He looked mildly annoyed, and his movements were sharp as he seemed to lash out at the light around him. When he saw Kathren, he gave her an amused smile and chuckled to himself.

Turning, Kathren quick-stepped to catch up to the arrogant, pointy-eared man, who was all but ignoring the line of legionaries next to him as he walked down their ranks.

As she stepped up beside him, he slowly spoke, "I will show… you their main base. I want my territory… to be left alone."

Kathren studied the man from the side of her eye as she looked ahead. "Why you jumping ship now? You had plenty of time to come forward." While sending through the mental network to the commanding tribune, she said, "I believe he is acting in good faith." She received a pulse of skeptical agreement as the centuries started marching.

The man let out a scoffing huff, "A rat cannot make peace with the snake in its burrow."

It was the longest sentence Kathren had heard the man speak, but she focused on the analogy, agreeing with it. Then her lips quirked as she asked, "So you're a rat?"

"Humph." The man snorted with amusement, "I am many… unsavory things… but not a traitor."

"At least you have some line that you won't cross. I have met many who would do anything for more power. Or money. Nothing is considered sacred to them but their own lives." Kanieta watched him from the corner of her eye, looking for any signs of unease about leading them into a trap. He has to know that if we are betrayed, he will be one of the first to be killed.

"Not much of… a choice."

"Why is that."

"I can feel… their emotions. They despise us all… their rule will… not be pleasant."

Kathren's eyes were pulled from the rundown buildings they were passing as they headed to the southwestern portion of the third ring. He can feel their emotions? That must mean he is quite the strong telepath… Relaying her thought to the tribune, he agreed to be on the lookout before she returned to the conversation.

"I met the Butcher," Kathren said, her voice filled with disgust as she spoke of the beast in the shape of a man. Her upbringing had beaten a healthy loathing for that type of monster into her. She wouldn't go out of her way, but if she happened to chance across one, she would happily slit their throats. "I know how they think."

"Haa," Scoffed the half-elf, "He is the kindest… of them. At least what he does... only lasts a night."

"Explain," Kathren said evenly, her flare of rage at his dismissal dropping off the cliff and into the hole forming in her gut at his words.

"You will see," His lethargic voice grew empty at those words, and Kathren could not suppress a shiver of fear from running down her spine. It was like a monster's slow, steady breathing suddenly stopped as you walked by their cave. There was a chance it could have spontaneously died, but you know those holes suddenly boring into you weren't just the rocks.

As suddenly as it came, the oppressive feeling he was giving off vanished. The desire to talk was gone, and without asking, she knew he would not answer more questions. They traveled in silence.

The sound of thudding feet was the only noise on the street, but few came out to look at them as they passed. The few dirty faces that Kathren caught sight of poking out around a building or through a curtain were filled with fear and hatred.

Their procession soon came to an area that Kathren was familiar with. It was the spot where she met the Halfelf, and soon after, they were walking along the border of the deserted portion of the slums where the Butcher hunted.

When the half-elf stopped walking, a wave of unease and tension washed over Kathren from the Union. Everyone expected archers to pop up on the roof and a mob to storm out of the alleys, but nothing happened.

The man turned to Kathren, and the tension in the air became palpable, but the only response was a twitch of the man's lips in amusement before his hand flicked to the north. "Their base is two… streets to the north. An old merchant's manor… surrounded by a small wall."

Kathren's eyes flicked to the north, then looked to the southwest, where the rumors on the street said the dark elves were based.

Before she could voice her thoughts, Halfelf said, "It's a trap. You think a bunch of… reavers could be found… so easily?"

Closing her mouth with a small click of her teeth, Kathren had to admit that it made sense. Why would she…

Flaring her psy pool, she wrinkled her brows as she felt a slight twinge of pain behind her eye, as he felt a weak resistance that vanished all at once.

All she had ever heard were rumors that their base was located in the southwestern portion of the third ring. And yet she was ready to lead an attack in that direction…

"I'm inclined to trust him," Kathren said into the mental network.

"On what grounds," Rumbled the tribune angust that was in overall command of their force.

"I was too ready to believe and act on information with only rumors to prove its authenticity. I believe I was under the influence of a wide-ranging telepathic casting."

"Are you compromised?"

"No," Kathren sent with absolute surety within her thoughts. "But I welcome you to check."

Taking the invitation, Kathren felt a weight upon her mind, and she let the watcher look past her mental shields and into her inner thoughts. The tribune didn't try to tear her memories apart, only checking to ensure there were no scars within her mind, suggesting that her mind had been ripped apart and fiddled with.

"We will trust him, but he will be kept close." replied the tribune before moving his attention elsewhere.

Seeing that they were going to trust him, the half-elf pointed down the street two blocks and said, "That alley to this one... has straight paths… to the manor. As soon as you… step foot into… them, they will know."

Passing the information along, Kathren watched the centuries move into position to charge down the alleys without breaking their opening. A single squad broke off the circle around her, the half-elf, and his men.

"Not the most… trusting." the large man commented.

Her tone flat, Kathren asked, "Would you be?"

The annoying man only smiled to himself in response.