If the outside of Eastwatch is frigid, then the inside is simply cold; nobody makes a move to remove cloaks or mittens as their breath puffs out in wisps of smoke, noses still pink and chilled.

The man who stomps down to meet them is a gray, barrel-chested creature, a strong nose and heavily lined jowls hanging out above a fur-lined, high-collared jacket and between a grizzled tangle of mutton chops.

Two gloved fingers bring up a fat, sausage-like cigar, plopping it into the jagged line he might call a mouth and General Grismen gnaws on the unlit thing for a moment before saying: "Welcome."

"Thank you, General," Allayria says, stepping forward and extending a hand. "My name is Allayria. I am the Paragon."

It feels strange to say it aloud, openly in this wide, carrying space, and suspicion crawls along her spine, a slow shiver of darting glances and tense bones.

Who heard? it seems to whisper. Who saw?

He harumphs, a hand swinging out and clasping hers as he bows low over it.

When he straightens up, still chewing on that cigar, he says: "Quarters and food, then."

He shows them to four icy rooms, all tucked up along the northside of the base.

"Warmest side," he boasts as his breath puffs out in front of him. "Gets the most sun."

He then takes them down to the mess hall which, with the crackle of fire and steam of boiling soup, is fractionally toastier than the rest of the place.

"Fill up," he says with a nod. "Get some sleep, then come find me in the morning. Pod will show you the way."

He nods toward a pimply-faced, gangly boy who hovers toward the side. Pod starts when seven pairs of eyes turn toward him and he flushes, nodding feebly in response.

"Don't wander off," Grismen tells them, eyes sharp, and he leaves.

Pod lingers as they eat, unable to decide who to stare at—the Smith-caller, the oddball boy with his jacket inside-out, the alarmingly handsome Solveig man, or the Paragon. The Paragon. His gaze flits several times toward her, but Allayria resolutely ignores this.

When they are done he leads them down the hall, glancing back so often Allayria wonders if he will get a crick in his neck. The thirtieth, or maybe fortieth, time he does it she realizes he's counting them. Constantly counting and recounting them.

"Don't wander off," Grismen told them.

Allayria's gaze flits to the side and catches Caj's, who holds it for a moment, his dark eyes sharp and in agreement. He carefully glances back while she looks forward, past Pod.

Allayria picks up her pace a little and the Smith-caller falls back, just behind her, at the tail end of the pack where she knows he'll let a small, metal knife slide along his palm and sit, obscured but ready.

With him watching the rear, Allayria carefully glances to the sides. As she looks to the shut doors and winding hallways she catches Tara's confusion and Hiran's look of mild pain at the social blunderings of their inept guide. No one, aside from Allayria and Caj seem to have pieced together what is happening, though she can feel the weight of Lei's gaze as he becomes suspicious of her actions.

"W-we can go to the library," Pod is saying when Allayria cuts him off, and he squeaks with surprise.

"That is not necessary, Pod," she says, keeping her voice even, pleasant. "My team is very tired and I think it best we turn in early tonight. If you could show us back to our rooms?"

He stutters something incoherent but does as she asks and Allayria keeps her eyes on the corridors and the windows, looking out at the steep drop to the icy tundra below.

Not ideal.

When they reach the rooms she leans on years of etiquette training, flustering the boy with enough flattery that he's a stammering, unresisting mess as she suggests he can leave them here and go resume his duties. He's gone, and she lingers in her room with Fae only for a couple of minutes before quickly exiting to the hall, Fae staring after her.

After a firm rap on the door, Caj answers immediately, his dark eyes casting around either ends of the corridor, and Finn's small face peeks over his shoulder as the boy leans up on tip-toes to get a look at their visitor.

"What's going on?" the boy demands just as Fae asks the same thing from behind Allayria. Hiran's head pokes out of the door next to them and then so does Tara's.

"Are we switching around rooms?" the Roften girl asks hopefully. "I'm going to die if I have to sleep in here alone. It's freezing—"

"What's going on?" Lei demands, late to the whole conversation, his head poking out behind Hiran's.

"Just—" Allayria huffs and then she points to Finn and Caj's room. "Everybody in."

"Oh, great idea," Tara says as they walk in. "There's some hideous curtains in my room we can use to start a fire..."

Caj lingers next to her at the doorway and, when she shuts the door behind all of them, she asks: "Did you see anyone?"

"No," he mutters. "No one was following, as far as I could tell."

"Following?" Hiran repeats. "Seriously, what is going on?"

"The kid was counting us," she tells them. "Every time he'd look back he was counting us to make sure we were all there."

"He took the General's orders very seriously—" Finn wonders.

"A little too seriously for some guests just spending the night," she answers.

"General Grismen—" Lei begins, a frown stamped on his face.

"Doesn't want us finding something," Caj interrupts, voice flat. "Or..."

"Is leading us into something," Allayria finishes.

There's a lot of arguing about this—Lei immediately becomes offended, launching into a long tirade about a code of honor and other nonsensical things while Fae looks confused and Hiran surprised.

"I just thought he was an idiot," he says. "And flustered by my beauty."

"No, that was just about the greens stuck in your teeth," Tara throws back and alarm quickly floods the Nature-caller's face.

"But, you think he was going to do wha—?"

"You have no proof—"

"There aren't really, Tar, right?"

"You should have never told them," Caj says in a low voice, but it is not low enough.

"No, no, you should," Fae interjects quickly. "I want in. What are we going to do?"

"Going to do?" Lei spits.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Finn and Fae echo.

"We're going to sit tight, keep our eyes peeled, and set up a watch," Allayria says firmly. "First though..."

She beckons to Caj and they move over to the window. It's got long iron bars across the front of it but they look easy to Skill off. Allayria removes the glass and Tara immediately begins to complain as a blast of frigid air rolls in.

She sticks her head out to the wall of iron bars and looks down.

"It's steep," she tells him and Caj looks over too. "But not impossible, if we have to."

"Are you really considering—?" Lei demands.

"I'm making sure I know our options," she shoots back. "In case of any kind of emergency."

That shuts him up.

Much to Tara's satisfaction, they move all their bedding into the room, Caj sitting at the center with a pool of flames in his hands. There's even minimal grousing when they establish a watch schedule—with soft mattresses and blankets, a dry roof over their heads, and four almost insulating walls, the idea of disrupted sleep is not so intolerable.

They settle into the long night.

The General is much the same when Allayria sees him the next morning, though her teammates are much more on edge. He notices.

"Eager to go?" he grunts, glancing around at them all as he stomps down the hall, Pod trailing nervously behind. "Come on, girl, let's talk."

She looks back and, set in the middle of the group, Caj nods as she and Lei continue down the hall alone.

He'll keep an eye out, she tells herself, but her fingers continue to roll the metal balls in her pockets.

"You've got a couple of days travel ahead of you," the General says as they enter what must be the library—a drafty, pale room with cold morning light streaming in through the narrow window slits on the left. Dark, thick tomes stack across the walls.

What secrets are you hiding here? she thinks. What secrets would B—

She recoils from the thought and she thinks the general notices. He's watching her keenly as she turns, covering the reflexive coil with a firm move to look out the window.

"Do you have any maps we can use, sir?" Lei asks.

"Aye. Had them make you a copy of it last night." Papers shuffle somewhere behind her and she hears Lei walk further into the room, toward the general and the desk.

"What should we expect?" she asks.

The general's nose is wrinkled when she turns back, twitching like an animal that feels a gnat on its hide.

"I told Wren all I know," he says.

"But what do you suspect?"

His eyes narrow as his gaze holds hers.

"It's a small base," he says, "but I think it's bigger than it seems. Never gotten confirmation, but I think they dug down under the earth. Might be what you're looking for is down there."

She nods.

"Do you know who runs it? What they're like?" she asks but the general shakes his head.

"They don't seem to keep anyone there long," he says. "Seen them all. None of them do too much."

He chews on this a moment, fiddling in his breast pocket and pulling out another cigar.

"Strange place," he mutters as he strikes a match and sets the cigar alight.

Smoke billows out of his mouth, like a gush of breath.

"Try the northside," he says after a moment. "Scouts have noticed some cracks in the wall there. Might work to your advantage."

Lei murmurs their thanks but Allayria remains silent.

"The gates are marked on the map?" she asks.

He looks at her again and nods.

"Good luck," he says, tapping the butt of the cigar on the wall, letting the embers simmer against the stone. His eyes are dark and speculative when he surveys them. "You're going to need it."

A/N: I just really enjoy the idea of this rough-and-tumble bear of a man chewing on unlit cigars and no one really having the spine to point out how pointless that is.

Also, don't smoke kids, it smells gross. (Seriously, it's gross.) This has been my public service for the week.

I wonder if anyone has figured out what this week's banner image is of... if you do, it might just give you a clue of what's to come. AHEM. ;)