It was common for massive gatherings like this to form up into smaller groups. Of course, a majority of them were adventurers, daredevils, or "heroes" to the most boastful, as if wishing to become the next legacy the bards would speak of, and even then they formed their own smaller niches: teams that have a better chance of managing one another and helping cover the weaknesses of others. These were the people who strived the heaviest towards the top of the spire as if an amazing treasure rested at the top. Alas, such goals were yet to be achieved and instead informed the strategists of their findings, allowing this group to manage the information and find the possible quickest routes up while making sure the adventurers were well-equipped for the threats that walked or fluttered in those halls.
The next group from them were the medics and the tents that readied themselves closest to the entrance. From there, any returnees were expected to check in for any injuries, healing any wounds and trying to ensure a hold of those who were infected by the Fuse Ore. While they rather have their guests come up to the tents to get checked in and examined, there was a team close to the entrance for more immediate action, such as life-threatening wounds or infections.
Forth, more around the site's camp, were the kitchens for everyone to be topped off with a full belly and providing rations for the trips into the spire. After all, energy was important for such a dangerous trip and running on empty can cripple or fell a man in such a situation.
Lastly was the place where Shuja found herself the most suited: the smithy. Dealing with rough hides and claws would wear down one's equipment and it was those in this district who would manage the gear, granting new polish and grinds to worn out blades and patching the tears in leather. The most annoying were the ones who barked at repairing broken weapons, not realizing that even a skilled smith would be able to bring new life to a blade without compromise. Still, she was all but thankful for the citizens who lived here to offer their hammers and anvils for the cause as, while she had her tools, she could not bring her shop over airship.
Still, it did not mean that they were restricted to their duties. After all, the potion given to them upon their arrival were not permanent solutions and people had to find a way to wait out the day until it had refreshed itself. Healers turning into rescue squads were a common occurrence and the strategists turning into scouts to confirm or adjust notes were not scarce. In fact, the reason Shuja was behind the grinder now was due to her potion wearing off and having to make a retreat.
"Your blade is as good as new," she assured once the blade was pulled from the whet, the sound of the grinding wheel slowing to a halt, "though do take it easier on tougher-shelled enemies. I fear I would not be able to hammer it straight again if you keep being reckless with it." With the person nodding and heading off, the Indlovu, dawning her cloak emblemed with the symbol of her Onnen church, waved her next guest over.
