The assembled six sat in respectful silence as Emily explained the looming threat.  Except for Diver their gaze never deviated from the speaker, though clearly some held more interest than others.  Salvadore fixed his sad gaze on Emily, either unhappy with what she was saying, or unhappy that he had to hear her out in the first place.  Sen-sen treated the newcomer with civility, but nothing bordering cordiality.  If black-eyed Marowit felt anything as a result of Emily's anecdote, she gave off no impression of it.  Elvilika and Udo Koro Kai seemed, as was usual, in accord: they had nothing better to do, so they bestowed upon Emily their undivided attention.  Meanwhile, Diver alternated between an encouraging show of interest and wistful looks toward the flooded Pearl District.

When Emily's piece was done, the various Journeymen took a moment to consider.  Salvadore was the first to break the silence.  “Marowit, can you confirm that Emily here is not among the living?”

Marowit turned her humorless, owl-like gaze upon her fellow Traveler.  “My domain is space, not spirit.  I believe I have said this before.”  At that, Salvadore looked away pointedly, but whether he was upset at himself for forgetting or at Marowit for contradicting him, it was difficult to say.  Kai was quick to pick up the leftover slack.  “A very impressive tale.  Were we told more of them, we might have cause to doubt, but as it is we have little enough to occupy us.  I for one believe that Emily is telling the truth, and if these Keepers run afoul of Monolith, we may be in trouble.  Far better to sort out the problem before it becomes a mess.”

Diver jumped in with her own two cents.  “Yeah!  Plus, these Keeper dudes might have all sorts of poison and heat magics that might ruin the waters!  Offense is the best defense; let's teach these home-wreckin' sons-of-bitches what happens when you try to take over!”

Though it was difficult to tell, some of the Journeymen seemed surprised at Diver's outburst.  Perhaps she did not usually act with such vehemence.  Sen-sen replied, “Patience must be our guide.  Even the largest boulder can be broken when rolled down a tricky slope, but planted firm it can stand thousands of years.  The Cypriots -and their bodies of water- are not our concern.  Keep in mind that we are nearly unable to act outside our own city, so little is our united power.  Our only option would be to supply Emily with resources, and give her letters of recognition to show to any Travelers she might encounter on her quest.  And that is providing we agree the Keepers to be an immediate threat.”

Salvadore called for a vote.  Kai and Diver voted to help Emily, while Salvadore and Marowit voted against.  Sen-sen abstained, preferring to impart his advice the best he could rather than make the decision, and Elvika didn't want to vote.  “A perfect tie,” she whistled.  “What shall we do now?  Please tell me it's trial by combat.”

“Yay! Combat!” Diver squealed with a laugh.  “How about me versus Marowit?”

When nobody responded, Elvilika shrugged.  “Sure.”

Quicker than a flash, Marowit materialized in front of Diver and dealt her a backhand that sent the cloth-armored Traveler spinning over the edge back into the Pearl District, yelling, “wheeeeeee!”

Both Sen-sen and Salvadore put palms to their facemasks.  Kai laughed out loud, and Elvilike could barely speak through her merriment.  “Voting...” she gasped, “...to help Emily.  Motion carried.”

“Looks like we'll have your back after all, little one.”  Sen-sen removed himself from the Sestet and approached Emily, while Salvadore walked off in a silent huff.  Elvilika and Kai resumed chatting, and Marowit was nowhere to be seen.  “I can write your letters of recognition for you and take any preliminary orders for supplies.  We can give you two automaton-pulled chariots to carry them in, and I know of one fellow Traveler who would be happy to join you on your endeavor.”  He towered over the young woman, but his manner was surprisingly noble.  “Come with me to the Aries Foundry and we'll find him.”

-=-=-

“What!?”

Lieutenant Bigley quailed.  For a man so utterly hyped up a few seconds ago, needing to deliver a very important field report to his commander, he managed to be stunned into silence very quickly.  Naturally, this only served to further inflame Dahlia's anger—an anger that neither suited her nor was normal for her.  Luckily, Bigley found his tongue before Dahlia could let loose on him.  “The bridge team is in full retreat!  Mounted spearmen overwhelmed their position, just charging across the bridge.  Raphael was impaled instantly, and Antony fell covering the others' retreat.”

The news wrought a fresh surge of rage from commander Dahlia.  Antony had been a knight, heavily armored and backed up by years of experience.  Losing him was a severe blow, but now was no time for an epitaph.  “Take Bryony's Four and shift them to that side,” she growled.  “If we cannot regain the bridge they'll have us trapped between two front and will crush us.”  [i]The only crushing done will be by you.[/i]  Dahlia smacked her helmet to try and get rid of the voice, but it was persistent.  She opened her eyes to make sure that Bigley had gotten the message and found him already halfway down the hill.  After a moment of further analysis, Dahlia reluctantly realized that she had no choice but to do exactly what the voice wanted.

On foot, she raced to the front lines, despite the huge, polished mass of her new armor. “All of you minus Keto and Seward, shift to our lower flank to retake the bridge!  Archers,” she said, referring to those she had left out of her former command, “Cover me.”  Dahlia snapped down her helmet, felt the flow of strength through her body, and charged.

-=-

Ten minutes later the battle was decided.  With the vast majority of Dahlia's forces focused on the bridge, that objective had fallen easily.  The spear-toting cavalry was wiped out, though two more of Dahlia's men were sacrificed to do so.  Meanwhile, with only two archers supporting her, Dahlia had held the front line against twenty foes.  Encased in the Tower and wielding both a steel lance and a bundle of iron-tipped javelins, Dahlia was a whirling cyclone of death.  Keto and Seward could hardly believe their eyes, and indeed, began to feel a little fear herself.  In the end, the enemy had retreated instead of being scythed down like grain in autumn.  When she walked between them, covered in blood but without a scratch on her, a simple “tell nobody” was enough to convince the archers that the commander of the Iron Brigade was a demon...and they were having trouble deciding whether that was a good or a bad thing.