After finalizing the division of personnel between the two scenarios (which didn’t take long, for obvious reasons), the eighteen members of the third scenario team departed the ruins. Walking in groups of twos and threes, they exchanged idle chatter for a while until Fey’s sudden explosion of laughter gave them all pause.
“I still can’t believe it, honestly...” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “One person he desperately needs to stay behind with him, and it turns out to be Vesta? I do wonder what’s going on in that brain of Allen’s sometimes...”
Jewel giggled. “I have to agree, his name really was the last I expected to hear... Poor Vesta, he looked so nervous when we left. I suppose Allen’s finally decided to offer the Dialemacks an opportunity to make amends.”
“I don’t know...” said Al dubiously. “I don’t think Allen really cares about stuff like that. You heard how passionate he was about beating the other classes—maybe he just actually thinks Vesta’s the secret to success in the second scenario?”
Fey laughed again. “Well, you’re probably right, Al—it’s hard to imagine Allen caring about noble politics. Still, the idea of those two spending so much time together is making me rather uneasy. Who knows? By the time we get back there, the future of Yugria might have changed in ways we could never have predicted...” She grinned widely, the lone spot of cheer among seventeen identical frowns.
Allen and Vesta didn’t seem to be on particularly bad terms, as far as any of them knew, but there was nothing about their interactions that suggested friendship either. Plus, reinforcing a defensive stronghold was a task that ostensibly required the use of hammers and one’s muscles, neither of which Vesta seemed capable of wielding with any notable proficiency. And yet, Allen had picked Vesta and sent the rest of Class A on their merry way without so much as a second thought. After Fey’s comment, the remaining members of the group now found themselves plagued with a vague sense of foreboding similar to that which might sweep through an audience upon realizing two feuding actors have been forced to share a stage.
“Let’s get this over and done with and get back as soon as we can. I’m worried about Vesta.”
“Yeah...”
After a few of the others voiced similar agreement, all eyes turned to Char, the designated leader of the third scenario. “Well, in terms of personnel distribution, we obviously have no excuse for failure here. The Melmarshes look something like this, as far as I remember,” she said, trailing her finger along the rough sketch she’d drawn as they walked. “They’re not too wide, overall—a full circuit around them wouldn’t be more than two kilometers. While the ambush team is getting into position, the perimeter team should probably wait here, and here, and...here, I think.” According to her sketch, the Melmarshes seemed to comprise a handful of smaller marshes of various shapes and sizes, with the points she’d identified being stretches of land wide enough to semiefficiently traverse.
“Hmm...” Leo frowned. “Char, we didn’t go anywhere near the Melmarshes during the first scenario. How do you know the terrain so well?”
Char smiled wryly in response. “It was a stroke of luck, really. When we took that short break at the seventh waymark, it had a really good view of the landscape down below, and the Melmarshes were right in the center. Seeing the marshes reminded me of hunting darkpherrets back home, so it just kinda stuck in my memory.” She shrugged. “But really, I’m nowhere near as amazing as Coco. Everywhere we go, he’s memorizing the entire landscape as we walk. He’s probably got a map of this whole domain in his head by now. I try to do the same, but he’s still far better at it than me... Right, Coco?” she said, holding out the paper and pencil.
Coco sighed, shaking his head slightly as he took both from her hands. “Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be better than me in no time.” Within minutes, he’d fleshed out the rough sketch, detailing the hills, basins, and other landmarks of the surrounding terrain.
“Since Master Godolphen’s making us use a two-team herding strategy, like I said, our best bet is for the perimeter team to divide into three groups, and drive the darkpherrets toward the ambush point while taking advantage of the terrain.” Char traced her fingers along the newly added hills, as though testing out prospective routes in her mind. “One group drives them through here, and the other two should probably aim to go through here and here... I think,” she said, not sounding particularly confident in her proposed plan.
Coco frowned down at the map, rubbing his chin worriedly. “We’re going to struggle with the number, though. Twenty darkpherrets...” He sighed. “They’re not a pack monster by nature. They’ll each have their own territory, and will have made countless hiding spots within—hollow trees, exposed roots, that kind of thing. Finding them in the first place isn’t going to be easy. Plus, the timing’s all wrong. It’s a little past ten in the morning now, and it’ll take us about six hours to get to the Melmarshes from here. Basically, it’ll already be getting dark by the time we arrive. Spotting them in the daytime is hard enough, but it’s a lot more difficult at night. Actually, it’s almost impossible. We could wait until morning, but when you factor in the hunting time and the return trip, we definitely wouldn’t be getting back to Allen and Vesta with much time to spare. We might not even complete the scenario at all.”
Hearing Coco’s explanation, the others finally began to understand the true difficulty of the scenario they’d been set. “Master Godolphen really likes to push us, doesn’t he? Not that I really expected otherwise...” Kate said. “The one advantage we’ve got is having this many people to tackle it. Allen must have realized we’d struggle—that’s why he only asked for one person to stay with him. But still... Isn’t there anything else we can use to our advantage?”