Sharing the slightly larger cell was a significant improvement, though the underlying reality of their confinement remained unchanged. The constant presence of Kaelith was a grounding force for Lunrik, chasing away the worst of the isolation and the whispers of Alaric's paranoia. Even Eryndor, though still deeply traumatized and prone to fits of shivering terror, seemed marginally calmer having other non-dwarven, non-Ashfang individuals nearby.
They spent what felt like a long cycle – perhaps a full day and night, though telling time was impossible in the windowless cell – mostly in silence, resting, recovering. The dwarven guards brought nutrient paste and water at regular intervals, their interactions minimal and professional. Lunrik's ankle healed rapidly thanks to his werewolf physiology and the potent dwarven poultice, the throbbing reducing to a dull ache. Kaelith's bruises faded, her energy returning. Only Eryndor remained physically weak and mentally fragile, often lapsing into long periods of terrified stillness or muttering fragmented warnings about ice passes and shadows under his breath.
Lunrik and Kaelith spoke quietly when Eryndor seemed asleep or lost in his own fear, comparing notes, analyzing their situation. They discussed the dwarves – Thrain's calculating wisdom, Borin's grudging pragmatism, Gyra's intense scientific focus. They debated the motives of the unknown hunters – were they truly allied with Magdra, competitors, or something else entirely? Their advanced technology, their specific targeting of Banehallows, their mysterious phased entrance… it didn't fit any known pattern.
"Solaris seems most likely, given the Banehallow focus," Lunrik mused, keeping his voice low. "Moriveth's legacy… perhaps a faction there seeks to monitor or even reclaim control over the curse she unleashed? Or perhaps they see it as a weapon?" Alaric's memories offered tantalizing hints about Solaris's isolationism and powerful, potentially unstable elemental magic, but nothing concrete about energy rifles or phasing tech.
Kaelith frowned, considering. "Their movements felt… too disciplined for rogue mages, Lunrik. More like… soldiers. Highly trained. Following strict protocols. And the technology…" She shook her head. "It felt different from magic. Colder. More controlled."
"Maybe a blend?" Lunrik suggested. "Techno-magic? Something developed in isolation on their island?" The possibilities were endless, and deeply worrying.
They also discussed Magdra's objective. The Whispering Ice Pass. Eryndor's fragmented muttering confirmed its existence in Frostmane lore, likely a secret route known only through guarded family legends or perhaps marked on ancient maps passed down through generations. Why did Magdra want it so badly? Access to Grimfang Deep bypassing the main gates seemed the most obvious answer, offering immense strategic advantage – resources, technology, a potential flanking route against Lykandra.
"If Magdra gets that pass open…" Kaelith murmured, her expression grim. "It wouldn't just be Lykandra threatened. Grimfang Deep itself could be vulnerable, despite their confidence. A surprise attack from within…"
"Which is why Thrain and Borin are taking this seriously," Lunrik concluded. "Our goals align with theirs, for now. Prevent Magdra from accessing the pass. Identify and understand the hunters." He sighed. "But we're still just pieces on their board."
Their relative quiet was interrupted on what felt like the second cycle of their confinement. The cell door hissed open, and Master Artificer Gyra stood there, flanked this time not by wardens, but by two dwarves clad in similar practical overalls, carrying toolkits and scanning devices. Gyra's eyes gleamed with barely suppressed scientific fervor.
"Surface-Gamma-Three, Surface-Gamma-Two," she addressed Lunrik and Kaelith briskly. "Your presence is required in Analysis Chamber Seven. Further assessment of Artifact RX-7 and associated hunter equipment is underway. Your input regarding operational parameters and potential weaknesses observed during hostile engagement is necessary." She glanced dismissively at Eryndor, huddled on his slab. "Subject Gamma-One remains… medically stable but psychologically unproductive. He stays."
Lunrik exchanged a quick glance with Kaelith. More interrogation, disguised as technical debriefing. But also, perhaps, a chance to learn more themselves. They rose and followed Gyra and her technicians out of the cell, leaving Eryndor alone with his fear.
Analysis Chamber Seven was clearly one of Gyra's main labs within the Kinetics Guild sector. It was larger than her workshop, filled with complex machinery humming with power, holographic projectors displaying intricate schematics, and analysis tables covered in disassembled components. The two dead hunters' armour lay carefully laid out on one table, sections removed to expose underlying layers. Their energy rifles, including the damaged one Lunrik had used, were mounted in diagnostic clamps, wires and probes connected to monitoring consoles. The atmosphere crackled with focused energy and intellectual curiosity.
"We have bypassed some of the external locks on the rifle mechanisms," Gyra explained without preamble, gesturing towards the weapons. "Internal power cells utilize a condensed crystal matrix resonance I've only seen theorized in obscure pre-Schism texts. Highly efficient, remarkably stable… until subjected to incompatible bio-signatures, apparently." She shot Lunrik a pointed look. "The sonic discharge you triggered was likely a defensive overload, a feedback loop venting excess energy non-lethally when forced activation was attempted by an unauthorized user. Crude, but effective."
Lunrik felt a grudging respect for the weapon's design, even as its alien nature unnerved him.
"The armour," Gyra continued, moving towards the other table, "is equally fascinating. Layered composite weave, incorporating energy-dispersive filaments. Explains its resistance to standard particle projection. However," she indicated the scorch marks left by the dwarven Gate Warden weapons, "it is vulnerable to sustained, high-energy thermal-kinetic impact. Our standard Gate defenses proved… adequate, eventually." She then pointed to the damaged neck seal on the hunter Kaelith had killed. "And traditional methods, applied precisely to structural weaknesses, remain effective." Kaelith met Gyra's look coolly, acknowledging the compliment without expression.
"But the source remains the critical unknown," Gyra pressed, turning back to them. "You observed their arrival via a localized phasing distortion near the Gate. Describe it again. Precisely."
Kaelith provided the detailed description – the shimmering static, the rock seeming to dissolve, the silent emergence, the rapid resealing. Gyra listened intently, cross-referencing Kaelith's words with sensor logs Borin must have provided from the Gate's external scanners during the event.
"Localized spatial warping… short-range teleportation… or dimensional phasing?" Gyra muttered, tapping commands into a console. Holographic projections shifted, showing complex theoretical models. "Requires immense power, precisely controlled. Suggests a nearby emitter, or a technology integrated directly into their suits… yes, power readings from the armour's internal core spiked just before the distortion field collapsed…"
Lunrik watched, fascinated despite himself. He was witnessing the forefront of dwarven science grappling with technology potentially centuries ahead of anything on the surface, perhaps even surpassing their own.
"We need more data on their origins, their base of operations, their hierarchy," Gyra stated, her focus absolute. "Their tactics suggest military training, but whose military? No known surface nation possesses this capability. Solaris remains a possibility, their mastery of elemental resonance could theoretically be warped towards such ends, but direct evidence is lacking." She looked at Lunrik again. "Your fragmented memories, werewolf. Do they offer any clue? Any symbol? Any name associated with forces possessing such technology, particularly forces hostile to the Banehallow line?"
Lunrik frowned, casting his mind back, sifting through the chaotic fragments of Alaric's knowledge. Most memories centered on Lykandran politics, clan rivalries, the curse itself. But there were whispers, dismissed court rumors Alaric had overheard… tales brought by merchants from distant southern ports… stories of an incredibly wealthy, technologically advanced, isolationist human empire far across the southern seas, known only as the 'Argent Imperium'… said to possess wonders and weapons beyond imagination, ruled by an unseen Emperor… rumors Alaric and his father had dismissed as fanciful sailor's tales. Could there be a connection? It seemed incredibly unlikely, geographically impossible almost. Yet, the level of technology…
"There were… rumors," Lunrik said slowly, cautiously. "Dismissed as legend. A human empire far to the south, across the wide ocean. Called the… Argent Imperium. Said to possess… advanced arts. Machines." He deliberately kept it vague, uncertain if the memory was reliable or just court gossip.
Gyra's eyebrows shot up. "The Argent Imperium? From the Veridian Archives' 'Myths of the Outer Continents' volume?" She sounded skeptical but intrigued. "Considered apocryphal by most scholars. You suggest these hunters might originate from a literal overseas empire?"
"It's merely a fragment," Lunrik stressed. "A possibility based on the level of technology you describe, which seems beyond any power currently known on this continent, including Solaris."
Gyra fell silent, contemplating this new, unexpected data point. An overseas empire? Intervening in Lykandran affairs, specifically targeting Banehallows? The geopolitical implications were staggering, if true. It added another, potentially massive, player to the already complex board.
"Interesting," she said finally, her voice thoughtful. "Highly speculative, but… worth investigating through archived long-range sensor logs, perhaps." She made another note. "Regardless of origin, their presence here, coinciding with Magdra Ashgrim's actions, demands a proactive response."
She turned back to Lunrik and Kaelith, her expression hardening back into professional efficiency. "High Loremaster Thrain concurs. Your reconnaissance provided vital confirmation of the Ashfang threat. Now, we move to the next phase of the arrangement. Counter-measures."
Counter-measures? Lunrik felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with dread. What did the dwarves have planned?
"Forgemaster Borin is mobilizing a detachment of the Iron Guard," Gyra stated. "Their objective: intercept Grakkus's forces before they reach the Whispering Ice Pass or any sensitive areas. Neutralize their leadership, scatter their forces, deny Magdra her objective decisively." She paused, her sharp gaze locking onto Lunrik. "And you two will be accompanying them."
Accompanying a dwarven military detachment? Into direct conflict with Grakkus's forty Ashfang? Lunrik felt his blood run cold again. This wasn't reconnaissance. This was frontline combat, dwarven style. The conditional arrangement was escalating, pulling them deeper into the dwarves' preemptive strike, deeper into the violent heart of the conflict tearing the Skyrend Peaks apart. The glimmers of hope offered by their temporary sanctuary were rapidly being overshadowed by the looming gloom of impending battle.