Tales of the Wastelander Ch 41 - Teaser (Patreon)

“What’s going on?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with curiosity. The tension in the group was palpable, and he could feel there was more to the afternoon’s events than what had been said so far.

Ylva glanced around the streets, her sharp eyes scanning for any potential eavesdroppers before responding. “I’ll explain back at the apartment,” she said firmly, her voice low. “It’s better we talk about it somewhere safe.”

Ben nodded, recognizing the weight in her tone. Whatever it was, it was serious. Without another word, the group moved through the streets, their pace quick and purposeful. Achilles and Vesna trotted along beside them, their ears flicking at every sound, ever-watchful as the group made their way back to the apartment building.

Once inside, the door was secured, and everyone gathered in the main hall. The atmosphere was tense, but Ylva’s steady presence kept them grounded. Looking about, the group ensured no one was there to eavesdrop, as a stray ear could ruin everything. She stood at the center of the room, her gaze sweeping over the group before she began to speak.

“Here’s what we know,” she started, her tone measured and authoritative. “Dohlrak and Maggie managed to capture a pair of slavers and have been… persuading them to talk. From what they’ve learned, we’ve got a lead on the Flesh Fair and the people behind it.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling heavily over everyone. Ben crossed his arms, his expression serious but focused. “And Dohlrak and Maggie?” he asked.

“They’ll be joining us shortly,” Ylva replied. “For now, we’ve got our orders. We need to gear up and be ready to move out in a few hours. This isn’t going to be a simple skirmish—it’s going to be a full-blown fight. We’re going in to stop this thing at the source.”

Byanka exchanged a glance with Ben, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her shortsword. Zandyr and Byrgyt nodded, their expressions hardening with determination. Elyse checked her gear, a flicker of excitement in her eyes.

“Everyone knows what to do,” Ylva continued, her voice firm. “Get your weapons, pack what you need, and be ready. We won’t have time to regroup once we leave.”

Ben nodded, his jaw tightening as he felt the familiar pull of battle settle over him. “Understood,” he said simply, already mentally preparing himself for what lay ahead.

The group dispersed, each heading off to prepare in their own way, the apartment building buzzing with quiet but focused energy. There was no telling what the next few hours would bring, but they all knew one thing: this was their chance to strike a blow against the darkness consuming D’troi—and they intended to seize it.

As Ylva moved about their apartment, preparing their gear for the mission ahead, Ben found himself lingering near the window, his bow resting against the wall beside him. He gazed out at the darkened streets of D’troi, his thoughts turning over the weight of the conversation. A question burned in the back of his mind, and finally, he turned to Ylva, who was checking the straps on her gear across the room.

“So,” he began, his tone casual but edged with anticipation. “Am I in on this fight, or am I getting benched?”

Ylva glanced up, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She straightened, resting her hands on her hips as she met his gaze. “You’re in,” she said firmly, “but you’re long-distance support. With that bow of yours, you’ll be covering us from the back. No need to throw you into the thick of it when you can pick off targets from a distance.”

Ben felt a surge of relief, mixed with a flicker of excitement, as a grin spread across his face. “Good,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. “I was hoping you wouldn’t leave me behind. I’m eager to help put an end to some of these slaving scum.”

Ylva chuckled softly, nodding. “Didn’t think you’d want to sit this one out. Just remember—stay sharp and keep us covered. We’ll need your eyes and your aim out there.”

Ben nodded, his grin turning more determined as he adjusted the strap on his quiver. “You’ve got it. I’ll make every shot count.”