The aftermath of the battle in the ice canyon was grimly efficient. Captain Brokk oversaw the securing of the area with practiced stoicism. Wounded dwarves were tended to by designated field medics carrying compact kits filled with potent salves and tightly wrapped bandages. The dead – both dwarven and Ashfang – were accounted for, though handled very differently. Fallen Iron Guard members were treated with quiet reverence before being prepared for transport back to the Gate. The Ashfang corpses were searched cursorily for any intelligence (maps, orders, unusual markings) before being efficiently disposed of – likely pushed into deep crevasses or perhaps even incinerated by steam projector bursts to prevent scavenging or later discovery. Lunrik watched the process, a cold knot forming in his stomach. It was the brutal calculus of war, dwarven style – efficient, unsentimental, final.
Kaelith rejoined them shortly after the canyon was secured, slipping down from the ridges as silently as she had appeared. She gave Lunrik a quick, worried once-over, noting his exhaustion and the way he favored his ankle, but her expression remained outwardly calm. She reported briefly to Captain Brokk: no immediate signs of other Ashfang forces regrouping nearby, the main body seemed to have routed completely after Grakkus fell. She also mentioned seeing faint, indeterminate tracks high on the western ridges, possibly the fleeing hunters, but they were moving away rapidly, not towards the current conflict zone.
Brokk received her report with a grunt, his primary focus clearly on consolidating his position and reporting back to Forgemaster Borin. Lunrik activated his communicator again: one pulse. Status stable, objective achieved. He hoped Borin would understand the implied message: Ashfang threat neutralized, awaiting further orders or extraction.
The wait felt long, punctuated only by the low murmur of dwarves tending their wounded and the eerie sighing of the wind through the now quiet canyon. Lunrik found a spot out of the main traffic flow, leaning heavily against an ice wall, the borrowed axe resting beside him. Kaelith came and sat nearby, cleaning her crossbow mechanism with meticulous care, the familiar, repetitive action seeming to center her after the chaos.
"You fought well," she said quietly, not looking up from her work. "You surprised them. You surprised me."
Lunrik managed a weak smile. "Alaric's memories have their uses, I suppose. Remembering how to swing an axe helps when cornered." The ease with which the combat instincts had taken over still disturbed him, the line between himself and the ghost king blurring uncomfortably in the heat of battle.
"It was more than memory," Kaelith insisted softly, finally meeting his gaze. Her moss-agate eyes held a searching look. "There was… focus. Precision. Even when Grakkus had you down." She paused. "You are changing, Lunrik. Not just the memories. You."
He didn't know how to respond. Was he changing? Or was Alaric simply becoming more dominant, his personality slowly overwriting Lunrik's? The question terrified him. "We survived," he deflected. "Thanks to your timing."
"We survived together," she corrected firmly. "As pack." The simple declaration, offered amidst the carnage and uncertainty, felt more solid than the mountain around them.
Their quiet moment was interrupted by Captain Brokk approaching. "Communicator signal received from Gate Command," he announced gruffly. "Forgemaster Borin acknowledges mission success. Orders are to return to the Gate immediately for debriefing and extraction." He looked them both over critically. "Can you travel?"
"We can," Kaelith answered for both of them, rising smoothly. Lunrik pushed himself upright, ignoring the protest from his ankle. Showing weakness now felt like a bad idea.
Brokk nodded. "The detachment moves out in five minutes. Stay with the main group." He turned and began issuing orders to his squad leaders to prepare for departure, leaving no further room for discussion.
The march back towards the Cog Gate was slow, hampered by the need to assist the wounded dwarves. The Iron Guard moved with the same disciplined efficiency, but the atmosphere was subtly different. The earlier suspicion towards Lunrik and Kaelith seemed to have lessened, replaced by a kind of neutral, professional acceptance. They had fought alongside the dwarves, proven they weren't immediate threats, even contributed to the victory. They hadn't earned trust, not yet, but perhaps a measure of grudging respect. Several dwarves offered Lunrik curt nods as they passed, acknowledging his role in the fight, particularly against Grakkus. Alaric's ghost might have sneered at such minor recognition, but Lunrik felt a flicker of something akin to pride, quickly tempered by the grim reality of their situation.
Reaching the ledge outside the Gate felt like reaching sanctuary, however conditional. Brokk signaled their arrival via his own communicator. After a tense few moments, the now-familiar grinding sound echoed from within the mountain, and the colossal Cog Gate began to slide open, revealing the warm, yellow light and humming depths of Grimfang Deep once more.
Forgemaster Borin was waiting just inside, his expression as stern as ever, but Lunrik thought he detected a fraction less hostility in his sharp eyes. Master Artificer Gyra was beside him, practically vibrating with impatience, clearly eager to debrief them and analyze any new data regarding encountered hostiles or technologies.
"Report," Borin commanded as the last of the Iron Guard filed inside and the Gate began to seal again.
Captain Brokk delivered a concise, factual account of the operation: vanguard neutralized, main force under Grakkus engaged in the ice canyons, kinetic resonators and steam projectors deployed effectively, Grakkus eliminated (with mention of assistance from both surface dwellers), remaining Ashfang routed, dwarven casualties minimal. He made no specific mention of Lunrik's direct kills or the use of the energy rifle, focusing on the overall tactical success.
Borin listened intently, nodding occasionally. Gyra, however, honed in immediately. "The surface dwellers engaged directly? And the Dravenwolf provided effective ranged support?" She looked at Kaelith with renewed interest. "Did you observe any unusual Ashfang tactics? Any sign of external influence or non-standard equipment amongst them?"
Kaelith shook her head. "Standard Ashfang aggression. Brutal, but predictable. No sign of other technologies or unfamiliar markings."
"And you, Banehallow-marked?" Gyra turned to Lunrik. "You fought Grakkus directly? Did you sense any amplification of his curse-driven rage beyond typical Ashfang levels? Any resonance suggesting external manipulation?"
Lunrik hesitated. He recounted the fight briefly, focusing on Grakkus's ferocity and the killing blow delivered by Brokk. He deliberately downplayed his own role and avoided mentioning the sonic blast from the rifle. Admitting he'd gotten the alien weapon to function, even sporadically, felt like opening a Pandora's Box he wasn't ready for. "He was strong, consumed by rage," Lunrik said carefully. "Consistent with powerful Ashfang Alphas under the curse's influence during battle."
Gyra looked slightly disappointed but made notes nonetheless. Borin seemed satisfied with the outcome. "Grakkus eliminated. Magdra's immediate thrust towards the passes blunted. A successful operation." He looked at Lunrik and Kaelith. "You fulfilled your assigned task. The conditional arrangement holds."
He then issued orders for the wounded to be taken to the main medicae facility, the detachment to stand down, and for Lunrik and Kaelith to be escorted back to their shared cell on level seventy-two. He also instructed that Eryndor Frostmane be moved to a separate, secure location for "recuperation and assessment," under the direct supervision of High Loremaster Thrain's staff.
Lunrik felt a pang of unease at Eryndor being moved separately again, but protesting now seemed pointless and potentially counterproductive. They had bought themselves continued sanctuary, proven their utility, but they were still very much subject to dwarven calculations.
As they were led away back towards the lifts and the detention level, Lunrik felt the immense weight of consequence settle upon him. They had survived another brutal encounter, helped achieve a dwarven military objective, and potentially earned a slightly less hostile status within Grimfang Deep. But they had also shed Ashfang blood, confirmed the reactive nature of the Banehallow curse to Gyra, and were no closer to understanding the true motives of the silent hunters or finding a way to break the cycle that plagued their lineage. They were safe, for the moment, within the stone heart of the mountain, but surrounded by cold calculations and ancient distrust, their future still utterly uncertain, balanced precariously beneath the gears of the Cog City.