Thoughtful Preparations

The days after Tarmen’s audience with the Duke were quite calm given everything that had occured as of late. Most of it was spent on his preparations for returning to the caves, though he still wasn’t sure the purpose of such a venture.
Useful knowledge for sure. To know its paths would allow the Empire an unparalleled advantage against Arcadia, especially with Fang’s superstitious fear of the place. He knew that fear well enough though, so there was definitely more logic in the clansmen’s fear than he had believed.
Several times he had needed to stop because of it, one moment in the room over his notes, the next trapped back under the earth hearing the boar-worm. There had even been a time he had almost lashed out at one of the men sent for an update, only stopped by the comfort of the lone claw once again hanging from his neck. Rubbing its surface reminded him of the blood that had been spilled to set them free from that hell.
It was something that made him doubt going back. No other ruin or cave had been like this. Sure he would see Zin’s Vision, especially for the more dicey escapes, but they had never been this clear, this…real.
He wished Voah was here. He wanted to know if she was having the same issue, if she was still trapped in those caves with him. She would also make far better company than what this town had become. After the Creed’s slaughter, the unrest he had heard whispered in the streets had been locked up tight. The same soldiers he would have tried to win over to his plan were now straight laced lads, still lazy and bored from guard duty, but lacking all previous discontent that now could only be drawn out with enough booze. It made the place ever more dull and cage-like.
His plot to murder the Duke was seemingly slipping away from him yet again and it infuriated him that he had so little time. Being sent back to Fang and the war already starting left a small window indeed.
He also wasn’t fully sure of himself physically. Even if his arm was able to move again, it would lack the skill and flexibility it once had. Just like the caves, this wound seemed set to haunt him for the rest of his life.
Swigs of liquor dulled these concerns and he was grateful to have this comfort for the time being. A lone friend as he continued preparing to become a potential enemy to all around him.