"Miss Torin? I've got a report for you."

  Saras looks up from her desk, looks beyond the monuments to bureaucratic sin around her, to the woman attempting to lurk in the shadow of her doorway. Unsuccessfully, on account of being a gryphon and also the time of day, but nobody gave her reports te or early enough to ever be successful.

  She's not that terrifying, surely. That'd be her idiot brother's job, whenever his head was removed from his arse.

  "Is that any different from the st twenty times, Ellie dear?" she drawls, pstering a smile across her face. "You can just set it on the desk."

  Ellie's wings rustle nervously, spying out and clenching, as the letter bends subtly in her talons before she gathers herself again. Her beak ccks, parted just wide enough for her tongue to poke out before slipping back in. "It's urgent, miss."

  "Guild politics urgent, my brother urgent, or urgent urgent?" Saras replies automatically, looking back at her work. Gods, it had better not be Uther again, and Saras dreads yet another jumped up report from someone who couldn't hit a grand march without bleeding from half their orifices.

  "Ah. I'm not... sure?"

  Saras' pen comes to a stop, and she bites back a sigh. Another day, another urgent nothing. "Go on."

  "It's a Delve Report from Ivy Crawford, miss."

  Saras blinks, squints, and remembers that she still can't read microexpressions from gryphons. Birds were always just a bit too tricky. "She sends us one every other week. What's the problem?"

  "She called it an, uh, irritating experience."

  "That's how she opens every report, Ellie. Why is this urgent?"

  Ellie clears her throat, which is a decidedly odd and fnged noise. "Because she said she didn't enjoy it at all, miss. I haven't read further, but—

  Saras' eyes snap wide open. Dame Crawford not liking a Delve? Gods. "Who died? Hand that over immediately."

  EKHOSIA GUILD OF DELVING AND DELVE RESEARCH- DELVE REPORT

  Delver - Ivy Amelia Crawford, Depth Rating 2,000 m.

  Locale - Craumont, Ayldom of the Free Kingdoms.

  Dates - 12 m.o. Eda to 15 m.o. Eda, 355 a.c.

  Purpose - Fixing the Wards. Deep-yer boundary reinforcement to encourage mending of World substance.

  Comments: Irritating experience overall. Did not enjoy myself in the slightest.

  "Well, there you go," Saras murmurs, checking the calendar by her desk. "And it's only the thirtieth of Eda's month now. She paid for urgent mailing."

  There's a sinking feeling in her gut, worse than any foreboding of a sibling prank— not just at Ivy's ck of enjoyment. "Ellie. Remind me why she's fixing wards?"

  Ellie blinks, cocking her head and scratching her beak with a cw. "No idea, Miss Torin? I… ah, I don't usually process records for Ancadis. Justine is out today."

  "Anniversary with her wives and husband, right. No worries." Saras muses, raking her memory for details. "I think I can… ah."

  Left side, bottom drawer, near the front of section C. She flips through the folder, bleeding a touch of Wind into her eyes to catch each page as it blurs past, then thumbs back to Ivy Crawford's rather thick record. "Right, right. She'd reported an unusually high frequency of Delve emergence, that'd damage the wards. If she was worried enough to mention it, then the risk of colpse was high, and…"

  She stops, fixing Ellie with a look. "You didn't hear any of this, by the way."

  "No, Miss Torin," Ellie shakes her head, beak ccking. She makes no move to leave. "So…"

  "Back to not-hearing for you, yes," Saras says with a fanged smile, "Business as usual. I could use the company, anyway."

  Pre-Delve Pn - Had a Padin of Adamantine look over our wards to start. Picked up on a slow-healing Delve running beyond two g.m., estimated we could dey the colpse of the wards by two months.

  Pn was to reopen the Delve on 12 m.o. Eda, then descend in reys of 500-670 marches depending on Heart avaibility, yer thickness, etc. Sealing each yer on final ascent to encourage rapid Delve colpse, mitigating damage to wards. Given my own rating and durability, I pnned to push past 2,000 m. in shallower increments as needed.

  Padin of Adamantine would attend and assist in Delving until her rated maximum (Depth Rating 1,500 m), lengthened rest cycle for myself following that. While not discussed, I would have asked her to attend ter Delves for the descent Delve and wait at 1,000 - 1,300 m. to provide protection and lower strain on myself.

  None of this happened, obviously, and at this point I don't know why I bother writing these damned pre-pns.

  Probably better to have a pn, though.

  "Oh dear," Ellie chirps, sitting down with a thump behind Saras' desk. "She's writing the report, and she's said worse, but… Oh. I really want to skip to the end. I'm terrible with suspense."

  Saras sighs, quelling the twinge in her chest. A few decades in the chair hadn't worn the empathy out of her, only sharpened the feeling of dread that came with every damned ominous report.

  That's all to say that she's sorely tempted to flip to the end as well, praying that she'd see everyone getting out uninjured.

  …no. Tempting, but no. She'll just have something sweet ter to make up for it.

  Exhaling sharply, she snorts. "At least she's got a Padin with her. Adamantine's hands in the world aren't to be trifled with, even if they're… odd."

  "Odd?"

  Saras points at the next line.

  Execution - Bit morbid a term, if you ask me. Central office never does.

  Verity certainly tried to execute me with her puns, even after things went sideways.

  Ellie makes a strangled giggling noise. "Odd," she agrees. "Like Delvers, really."

  "Given Ivy's made that exact compint about execution in every report for the st three years, yes, they're evenly matched," Saras drawls, tapping her cw against the parchment.

  Delve re-opened with no issues, early morning of 12 m.o. Eda.

  Contact with the portal, however, caused nausea and the sensation of being grabbed by rotting fingers. Felt strong urge to vomit. Not a great start.

  "Oh, that's awful. Sorry, Ivy." The scute-covered skin around Ellie's eyes crinkles, an expression that Saras had long learned meant frowning. "There's, hm. I'd need to check, but there's reports out of northeastern Ducros about mild paranoia from Delves, and sunburns from southern Yggdria, but…"

  Saras winces. "Nausea's up there with the worst. Justine would've fgged it if there was a trend in the Ayldom. See if you can colte some reports on nausea as a Delve sensation ter?"

  "Yes, Miss."

  What she doesn't say, of course, is that she'd never heard of anything that could be compared to "rotting fingers". Not in her decade as a Delver, not in her decades as Guild Master. Sharp pain in the gut, yes, headaches and eyebleeds, several times, but… well. Of course it was one of the eccentrics like Ivy that found it.

  "Ah, looks like she put together a shielding for it. Pushing out ambient magic?" Ellie trills, pointing at the next paragraph.

  "It'd muffle the sensations she gets from the Delve itself, but limit any sort of ambient magic intake. Rough, but workable," Saras nods, lips pursing in thought. "See if we can get a report from Grey in Ducros about a more advanced solution, he hit three grand marches without succumbing to the paranoia. No need to put Ivy through more risk than necessary."

  Ellie lifts a wing, delicately plucking a list from her satchel and resting it on the corner of Saras' desk. "Of course, Miss. I'll need to borrow your pen?"

  "Take the gold one. It's got a rune circle on it to limit ink sptter."

  The dread remains as Saras reads on, anticipation without closure throughout the first descent. The snake-horse had posed a mild challenge, the stone bats barely slowed the two down, and she turns around well within the expected safe range from her pn.

  "The yer thickness isn't out of the usual range, at least for sub-grand march depths," Saras says with a frown, "But it's pushing the higher end, and the Hearts are pushing the lower end of their frequency."

  "It's enough for the rey tunnels, at least?" Ellie offers, pointing at Ivy's rough sketch of the Delve depths and yer stacking. "Nothing here screams of a risk Ivy would call unenjoyable. So…what happened?"

  Saras grimaces. "I suppose we'll find out."

  Something still felt wrong about the Delve. Nothing actionable, couldn't separate it from general dread about the state of Craumont's wards.

  When we exited the Delve, there was a mob group of people outside it, compining about the Delve's re-opening. I left, but Verity told me ter: they didn't like that we'd re-opened a Delve. Talked with Winston after everything wrapped up (16 m.o. Eda), he thinks they might've been riled up by someone else. Given they did it again the next time I descended, I agree.

  Second descent began the morning of 14 m.o. Eda. Extremely pretty morning, wish I hadn't lost the damned day trapped in a Delve.

  Controlled descent from 0 to 600 marches went without issue. Sensation of rot remained, but was manageable.

  Third yer was a gravel expanse (ft horizons) with a perception-based sky and a river with a red cy bed. I didn't realize the sky was reacting to expectations until it was pointed out by Lena H. on our third descent.

  I will get to the nonsense with Lena ter. Don't feel up to expining it twice, or out of order.

  Monsters were composed of cy and behaved as such, being slow, heavy, and easily destroyed. Continues a trend of cy monsters emphasizing mouldability over any sort of sturdiness—

  "She brought someone else down on the third descent?" Ellie's beak ccks, cws drumming against the side of the desk.

  Saras frowns. "Evidently. I like to think she's learned her lesson from the first Delve she did in Craumont— we'll find out the reason soon enough. Third descent, maybe."

  Her gut twists, squeezing free several decades worth of instincts into what she can charitably call a bad feeling. "But…"

  "But there's no time for a third descent, Miss," Ellie finishes quickly, reaching for the first page of the report. "She started this descent on the 14th. She lists the 15th as the final day, and she was reviewing it with… I think that's Lord Craumont? On the 16th."

  "Exactly." Saras pauses, "This sounds like it's turning into something we'd update the handbook for, isn't it? Regutions are written in blood, or in this case, a drake's grousing."

  "I wouldn't know, M-miss," Ellie starts, stumbling over Saras' raised eyebrow. "But, probably?"

  She scribbles down another item on her list.

  Something tells Saras this list is going to get quite long.

  …spider exhibited reaction times to attacks possibly exceeding my own. In retrospect, it was likely reacting to tremors in the web. The exoskeleton was tough, which was unexpected given the monster's fungal traits. Likely drawing more from spiders than mushrooms, but my assumption led me to erroneously draw my knife.

  As usual with spiders, joints are an easy weak point. Verity's fire worked well against the spores, and we experienced no issues repelling them. Current documentation on fungal monsters and spiders is probably still adequate. My guidebook is out of date, haven't gotten this year's.

  Damned gd I never had to find out what those would do. The rupturing of the sacs was unpleasant enough as it was.

  During the fight, I felt a sense of… no sense, I suppose. Like something abruptly stopped being there, couldn't pin down what. Verity and I discussed it after the fight, but I made the call to wait until the yer was over before ascending— which was, in retrospect, a idiotic choice, but also critical to our survival.

  Still, we picked up a Heart, then turned around at 1,000 m. and began our ascent.

  Saras is going to strangle Ivy Crawford when she sees her next. The decision materializes sometime between the second and third casually ominous statement, and crystalizes into a growl.

  "Survival," Saras repeats, ignoring the bck fur creeping down her wrist. "Ivy Crawford, what Mireise-damned twist did you get yourself into?"

  Bitgarm Dongbaek sealed the Delve with us still inside.

  According to Winston, the group used the cover of the crowd to get in close, then pushed through all at once.

  Lena Harkness attempted to stop him, and was shoved inside. I'd call it attempted murder, given Lena has no Depth Rating to speak of, I want to rip his throat out.

  Bah. I'm not rewriting this.

  She didn't d

  Winston Craumont and Elizabeth Tousavon intervened within thirty seconds, but the Delve was sealed by the time they reached him.

  Sealing a Delve that quickly is, to my knowledge, unprecedented. I have suspicions as to how he did it, and given he can open Delves as well, he could've gotten the Hearts anywhere and at any time.

  I have no idea why he escated to this. Verity and I were at minimal risk, but—

  The pen held between Ellie's talons creaks. Saras can hear Ellie's heart thudding in her chest, and it's only a series of deep, calming breaths that keeps her own heart in check.

  "I really wish she'd led with that," Saras says evenly. "Given she's writing the report, I assume she managed to get herself back out, and I don't see any fatalities listed, so…"

  She reads further, tearing past a dozen small compints and setting aside the combat notes as irrelevant.

  "And the Restoration intervened, of course," she mutters, drumming her cws against the desk. "Why not."

  "I did check Ivy's public record before coming in. I-I know she's capable of breaching a Delve from the inside, but…" Ellie shakes her head, trilling a few words in a nguage Saras never got around to learning. "Oh, Gods. I'm gd she's alright."

  "I've done more than my fair share of breaches. They're not pleasant. With a Padin on hand, though—"

  Saras stops herself. "She's going to need help, after that. Do we have any Delvers that could fill in for her?"

  Ellie tilts her head. "Most of our Ancadian Delvers are in southern Caliburn, or in Ard Judicia still. We'd have to send them through…"

  "Through the civil war, yes," Saras curses under her breath, "Sentos-damned wars. Gah. I'm just going to read the rest of the report."

  …the ascent, following the colpse of the fourth yer, was surprisingly quiet.

  Small mercies, I suppose. Verity was dead on her feet with ~1,000 marches of Delve sickness, and both of us were severely limited in our magical throughout. My fall into the aAbstract will take at least a month to recover from.

  No further notes on that, I'm done talking about it.

  Breaching went well. Used up all avaible Hearts, and was able to seal the Delve correctly on the other side.

  According to a reliable source, possibly which I believe was an avatar of Adamantine, the wards have three months before colpse. I'm pnning on chasing Dongbaek once I've had a week to recover.

  Areas of Improvement - Saras won't write me up for skipping this.

  Just send another Delver. Five or six, actually.

  End of Report.

  "Ellie?"

  Silence. A long, furious pause.

  "Yes, Miss Torin?"

  "You saw none of this, am I clear?" Saras says the words softly, almost tiredly. Gods, why couldn't Ivy do something normal for once.

  Ellie warbles, wings pulled tight against her frame. "Of course, Miss. Will Ivy be getting…"

  "Of course she'll be getting help, Ellie," Saras smiles, baring her fangs as gently as possible. "It's my duty as Guild Master. Why don't you take a quick break, too?"

  "…thank you, Miss Torin."

  The door closes with a click, and Saras is alone.

  "Ivy knows how they did it," says a voice like velvet-wrapped steel, and Saras remains alone.

  "I'm not an idiot," Saras counters, leaning back in her seat. "And Ivy isn't either. What could they be looking for, if they're willing to murder a Padin for it?"

  A blood-red glove reaches over Saras' shoulder, plucking the report from her desk without a whisper of sound. "Ivy and the Padin would've survived, and the bystander was just that— a bystander caught in the net."

  "To draw the Regent's ire, though?" Saras shakes her head. "She's occupied, but her Padins are everywhere."

  "I don't doubt that one's already on their way. Must be something good, then."

  "Bad, you mean."

  Papers rustle behind Saras. "Same thing, with the Seekers."

  Saras exhales sharply, pressing air through pointed teeth. Caliburn. "True enough."

  The papers drop back onto Saras' desk. "Ellie was right. We can't move anything up to the Ayldom on short notice, and things are only going to get worse."

  "And if we do nothing?" Saras scoffs. "They'll bet on selfishness, like always. We'd be pying into their hands."

  A pause.

  The voice hums. "We would. And they've been there for however long Dongbaek was priest, likely far longer… Perhaps they're desperate?"

  "That's worse."

  "I didn't intend to imply it was better."

  And then, "I'll see what I can do. If they want the wards down, their prize is under them."

  "So we won't let them get it, simple as that," Saras says simply, looking over her shoulder.

  The room is empty, save for Saras.

  Origami_Narwhal