Chapter 88: Homecoming, But With Extra Luggage
The gates of Ashring were open wide when we came up the path. Not thrown open, just that steady "open" that says yes, we’re here, yes, we’re waiting, and yes, if you want trouble, you’ll get it. Which is code for: welcome back, please enjoy your complimentary chaos.
Splitjaw let out a low whistle. "Haven’t seen it this busy since... ever."
He wasn’t wrong. Kobolds hustled everywhere. Two new watch platforms, stone foundations solid and freshly etched. The forge wasn’t panic-gray, but working-smoke, with the air tasting of bread, steel, and an optimistic pinch of burnt swords.
Bitterstack was already barking from the logistics awning, clipboard in hand, asking if everything is going well.
Relay zipped by with a string of runner tokens, almost tripping on a garden stone. "System notification—Relay node ping successful! I got signal to the eastern pass, boss!" The last part aimed at me, too loud and proud to be humble.
A small cluster of Gen-2s argued near the well: Tinker holding up a snapped gear, Cinders brandishing a soup ladle like a scepter, Flick already halfway up a storehouse wall, definitely not listening.
If I squinted, it almost looked like organization.
If I squinted harder, I remembered I had a concussion once and this felt similar.
Stonealign spotted us and strode over, limping just a bit, dust on his hands. He didn’t do big greetings. Just tapped his chest and nodded. "You’re back. Good timing. Structural review is tomorrow, and the south granary needs eyes."
Stonebite followed, scowling—the sort of scowl that meant "I missed you, but I’ll never admit it." He shoved a wrapped bundle at Quicktongue. "New flame-retardant gloves. Tell the boss they’re not fireproof, just heat-dumb."
Excellent. Perfect for kobolds. Like mittens, but designed for poor decisions.
I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched. "Thanks, Stonebite."