“Untimely intervention from the tinbacks has forced the Graftmaster’s hand.” Ilorath shared once the armored woman stepped close. Her blank eyes gazed through the narrow hole, whispers and strings of her listening magick barely audible. “They will flee soon, to-”
“Cowardice.” Valencia coldly cut in.
“To preserve whatever relic they found.” Ilorath continued softly.
“And damn the rest to rot on these barren wastes once the tinbacks overrun us.”
Ilorath shrugged. “I would do the same, in their stead. An object of great importance was wrested from its cradle here, and they see its return to human lands of absolute importance. A few are sacrificed for the good of many.”
“The stink of cowardice reeks too hard to be covered by a perfume of petty justifications.” Valencia uttered, voice hard. “If they will not render us aid within the very pit they dug, their corpses will at least serve to slow the breach.”