The first rays of dawn filtered through the gaps in the wagon, casting a soft golden glow over its occupants. Garrok stirred first, the weight of slumber slowly lifting from his mind. On one side, he felt Tink’s familiar warmth, her face peaceful in sleep, lips curled in a faint, satisfied smile. On his other side lay Leandra, her ash-smudged skin glowing faintly in the early light, hair tousled across her shoulder.

  The memories of the night before returned vividly—the way Leandra had stormed into their wagon, the tension of her intent, and the passionate chaos that had followed. The rings he’d crafted for her, meant simply as practical tools, had been accepted as something far more personal—and her answer had been undeniable.

  Careful not to disturb them, Garrok leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on Tink’s forehead, then pressed the same to Leandra’s brow. Both women stirred, eyes blinking open slowly. Tink, always the first to rouse with a smile, gave him a lazy grin and yawned. Leandra stretched like a lounging cat, then met Garrok’s gaze with a sly smirk.

  “I hope,” Leandra teased, “you’re half as good with a hammer today as you were last night.”

  “I’ve always had steady hands,” Garrok replied, the grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

  Tink, sitting up, shot them both an exaggerated glare. “Gods above, I’m gonna hear about this all day from the others, aren’t I?”

  “Oh, almost certainly,” Leandra chuckled.

  The three began dressing and washing up, the lingering heat of the night softened by the easy rhythm of shared smiles and quiet laughter. The bond between them, however complicated, had been tempered in the fires of passion—and forged stronger.

  When they stepped out of the wagon, the fort was already alive. Soldiers bustled about their duties, repairs continued on the walls, and the scent of breakfast drifted from the mess. A few heads turned as they passed, and here and there, a knowing grin or an elbow jab exchanged between comrades.

  Tink, predictably, kept her eyes down, cheeks flushed red enough to match her hair. She muttered curses under her breath about “bloody gossiping dwarves” and “loose-lipped elves.” Garrok walked beside her, doing a poor job of hiding his grin. Leandra, ever the bold one, walked tall, ignoring the teasing smiles.

  Captain Torvald Firebeard met them near the forge, arms crossed and a brow raised. His voice, deep and gruff as ever, held more amusement than reproach. “Well now. If only love-making could hold the walls like our cannon fire, I’d have put you three to the task sooner.”

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  Garrok gave a curt nod, playing along. “We’re just keeping morale high, Captain.”

  Firebeard gave a rare chuckle, then waved a dismissive hand. “See that it doesn’t drop again, then. We’ll need your best work soon enough.”

  X---X

  The mess hall smelled of fresh bread, thick stews, and coffee strong enough to strip paint from a hull. The trio seated themselves quietly, but it wasn’t long before Engvyr and Sgt. Ironheart approached, steaming mugs in hand.

  “Sleep well?” Engvyr asked, with the grin of a man who knew exactly what had happened.

  Garrok gave him a sidelong glance. “I’ve slept worse.”

  “Oh, aye, we can tell,” Ironheart snorted. “The whole fort’s humming with it. Not every day a half-orc, a gnome, and a wood elf make the wagon creak loud enough for the miners to hear it underground.”

  Tink groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Kill me. Right here.”

  Leandra, still smirking, leaned in toward the sergeant. “I’ll have you know, Sergeant, we made excellent use of those creaks.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Ironheart grinned back. “But keep the noise down next time—or charge admission.”

  Their laughter was brief but warm. It softened the hard edges of the morning, though all knew the day ahead would bring more grim work.

  X---X

  Beneath the fort, where the air was thick with earth and the faint glow of mushroom lanterns bathed the tunnels in pale blue light, Bram Ironfist and his mining crew moved like shadows.

  The silence here was heavy. Every footfall, every scrape of stone against boot echoed down the narrow passageways. Bram pressed his listening rod against the wall, eyes closed, the cool metal conducting even the faintest tremor.

  There it was—a faint, deliberate tapping beneath the bedrock. Goblin diggers, working steadily, unaware they were being hunted beneath the ground.

  “Thirty feet,” Bram whispered. “Northeast passage.”

  The miners exchanged grim nods. There was no need for words—each man knew his role. Durnik, the explosives master, carefully prepared charges of black powder wrapped in dampened cloth to minimize excess sound. Their tools were sharp, their movements precise. Every step they took was calculated to avoid alerting the enemy below.

  The soft murmur of goblin voices grew clearer as they crept closer, the diggers too absorbed in their work to sense the danger above.

  Bram signaled the count. Three fingers held high.

  On the final beat, Durnik triggered the first charge.

  The explosion, muffled beneath tons of soil, sent a crushing wave of earth and rock down upon the goblin sappers. A chorus of panicked shrieks echoed up the shaft before falling silent beneath the weight of the collapse.

  Without waiting, the miners set the second charge, sealing the shaft entirely. Dust hung in the air like smoke in a battlefield, but their work was clean—merciless.

  Bram exhaled slowly, lowering his rod. “They’ll dig no tunnels here.”

  Durnik spat into the dirt, giving a satisfied nod. “Let them keep trying. They’ll only dig their own graves.”

  The patrol moved on, their boots leaving quiet imprints on the earthen floor, listening for the next tremor, the next threat beneath the stone.

  Sounding/Listening Rods: Defenders used sounding rods or stethoscope-like devices to press against the walls and detect vibrations caused by enemy mining. These rods were made of wood or metal and conducted vibrations from the wall to the defender's ear, helping them identify areas where tunneling was taking place.

  Countermine Tunnels: Defenders sometimes dug their own tunnels underneath the castle walls to intercept and counter enemy mining tunnels. These countermine tunnels were constructed in a way that allowed defenders to listen for enemy activity, break into the enemy tunnel, and engage in close combat.