For Ondua er Goltbred, the morning summons to the administrative office of his assigned fort had been phrased as routine review by the messenger. But the hero of the last Descent for his local region recognized the timing as slightly improper. Every day since being here, the adjutant had arrived roughly five minutes past the time he just did.
Despite what his daughter sometimes secretly thought of him, decades of military service had taught him to read between the lines of any official communication. A change that 'could be nothing' was often anything but… it was just a matter of finding out what it was about.
'I hope they've found something about my little girl…'
With that piece of news coming in only days ago because of the distance he was posted… and because of the sort of information control around the issue… the man had not fully been himself since. He felt agitated and wanted to rush to his wife and make sure nothing would happen to his remaining family.
