Untreasured

[The Mongrel]

Closed to Remedy and Rehtul. Specifically using the treasure map given to AC round 1 participants to boost GP gains by 500% (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?29164-Adventurer-s-Crown-Prizes).

Raiaeran taverns are quiet. Elves order their drinks - primarily wines from Corone and Salvar, or from the now-blighted fiondor if they can afford it. They converse in hushed tones with their companions, if they have any, or otherwise study their books or letters. If it's a special occasion - a wedding, a festival day, a major victory - someone will inevitably end up making an eloquent, rambling toast.

Seven days had passed since my confrontation with Pode. Four had passed since I stepped out of the Lindequalme with my brother's Bladesinger unit. Representatives of the High Bard Council had proclaimed me as a hero of the Raiaeran people. Siegfried had formally admitted me into Nosse Alfheim, though as current head of the house, it had been his intention to do that anyway.

I don't know if I actually scored the fatal blow or if the honors and accolades were only bestowed because of the five idiots who didn't leave the forest, I was the only one with Raiaeran blood. Noble Raiaeran blood. Even my Alerian half couldn't make me a worse candidate than a human, an orc, a construct, or a slaughterer of nations.

So the atmosphere was festive. I'd never been bought so many drinks in my life, nor been offered so much praise. That many of the strangers who now hailed my name wouldn't have deigned to spit at me a mere fortnight before made the experience a little unsettling. To some of my countrymen, I'd proven my status as a loyal citizen of Raiaera. To others, praising me was simply the politick thing to do.

Whatever their motivations, I could have led a hundred of my mother's kin back into Death Song forest. Almost that many had volunteered when I posted my intent to return to the crimson boughs. Several more had told me I should wait, for my own sake.

Their concern wasn't necessarily empty. Though faded, bruises still marred my neck where the Forgotten Witch had tried to strangle out my life. If I found myself alone on a foggy night, I could still feel her iron-hard grasp around my throat and I forgot how to breathe, choking on air and panicking.

I'd woken up in a healer's tent for that once. It was terribly embarrassing.

The Council tried to persuade me against going. Then they tried to persuade me to take their preferred selection of Bladesingers, my brother among them, for "my ease of mind." But I didn't want any more time with my brother after he pulled me out of the Lindequalme. When I otherwise refused to bow to any polite directives, they forbade me from bringing even a single member of my kinsmen. Just as well. I never liked my kinsmen.

They also barred stronger outsiders from accompanying me, graciously miring them in bureaucracy in a vain effort to bend me to their will. Assholes.

I'd left a man behind, and though he'd been grievously wounded in the fight against Pode, if anyone could pull through, my Mutt could. I just had to find him and bring him home. Or I had to find his body and give him the last rites. Again. My brother and his men had all insisted that when they found me in the clearing, I had been absolutely alone. There hadn't even been a corpse beside mine, any corpse. But I didn't believe them. Elves are notoriously prejudiced against orc kin, and they probably wouldn't even have seen my long-dead love as a person.

So it was that I sat in a tavern close to the Lindequalme, three bottles of wine in front of me and two names left to my purpose. One name was Rehtul, an Orlouge and an Ixian brat, just to add insult to injury. His people had torn my world apart only a few years before, ignoring us and the lives they'd cost just as the farmer ignores the dying field mice when he burns away the chaff. The other was Remedy Blue, an individual I knew nothing more about than her name.

They would have to do.

I was going back into that crimson hell.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

It had been a week since the death of the third Forgotten One became public news. In the world of Althanas, few things were talked about quite as much as one of the greatest threats to the mortal races finally being vanquished. Some woman named Illara, supposedly descended from the nobility of Raiaera, Whoever they are, Rehtul thought to himself, had managed to finally end the quasi-immortal’s life.

Fact was, Rehtul had less than no interest in the Forgotten one, much less in the nobility of Raiaera. That was more in line with the goals of other members of the Knights. He scratched his chin idly as he waited for his carriage to pull in at the tavern. He stared out the window as the world seemed to roll by around him. Many of the shops were winding down for the evening, while others were just beginning to pick up business.

The walls surrounding the city, keeping out the darkness outside the gates, were huge, a shocking contrast to the more smooth and curving slopes of the other buildings. Grace was one word, otherworldly another, but nothing humans had built that the young Mystic could think of were able to match the sheer beauty. Of course, this came at a price. Raiaeran elves, particularly nobles, were often quite haughty and arrogant. At least they came off that way to many of the younger races, whether they meant to or not.

A sigh escaped the young man’s lips as he continued to appraise the city, unable to think of anything else to do. It had long been too dark to read during transit, and while he did have light magic, he’d experimented with long-term reading before on bumpy rides.

His face turned green just from the memory of the event. Motion sickness, it appeared, was in fact a thing, so boredom was the order of the day until the ride finally stopped. He knocked on the back of the carriage driver’s seat to get his attention.

“Yes sir?” the young elf asked.

“How much farther until we reach that tavern?” the young man asked, toying with his white-blue braid idly as he waited for a response.

“Almost there, sir, just a couple of more minutes,” came the reply. Rehtul’s fingers immediately went to drumming on the side of the carriage impatiently as he awaited the inevitable. The slow, plodding, methodical pace of elven life was anathema to one who had a significantly shorter lifespan.

He could have sworn he heard the elf say something about humans always being in a rush, but he shrugged and left it alone. After a few minutes, the carriage finally pulled up in front of the tavern. The clacking of the wheels slowed to a stop and the side steps slowly descended.

“Gotta love luxury,” Rehtul said while rolling his eyes. He pulled himself up off the seat and walked down the steps. He turned back to the driver and smiled as kindly as he could as he slowly pulled out five gold pieces and laid them in the man’s hand.

“Keep up the good work, though a piece of advice to go with this tip, friend. Humans are impatient because they’re short lived compared to elves. We don’t have millennia, merely centuries unless we’re blessed or cursed by some accident of fate,” he said before he turned toward the door of the tavern.

Dust and the occasional mote of red mist would creep in over or through the protective walls of the town, lasting testaments to the two Forgotten Ones that had ravaged Raiaera in the not so distant past.

Seems these folks can’t help but attract trouble, Rehtul thought. He felt for the people of this land, even though they might not feel the same if this was happening in other lands. He could not hold this against them, as the same could be said of the citizens of any country when it involved the affairs of foreign states.

The young mage shook his head as he laid one hand upon the beaten, scratched up door and pushed lightly. The knotted old door swung in easily enough. Someone must have kept it oiled at least weekly, the young man thought. As he entered, he was... shocked by the lack of the usual ruckus he’d hear in Corone’s taverns. It seemed to subdued compared to the way that humans spent their time in taverns.

The place even seemed relatively clean, for a frontier town, anyway.

“I could get used to this,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled his braid over his shoulder and began stroking it. The nervous habit continued until his eyes fell upon a strange looking elven woman with braided black hair and silver eyes. He had been told about her, but the truth of the matter was that, despite her strange, assuredly magical, eye color, he wouldn't have taken her as the one he was there to meet. She was slender, like most elves were thought to be, a bit on the tan side. That alone did seem to make her stand out, especially among the pale, predominately blond and red-haired elves around them.

If he hadn’t been told to look for the table with three wine bottles, he’d have walked right past her without a second thought.

As it was, he walked through the tavern and up to the table. He could feel his plodding footsteps echoing through the room in comparison to the relatively light steps of the elves surrounding him. Everything around him just reminded him that he was an alien in a land that was far out of his depth.

“Are... you Illara?” he asked simply as he stood behind one of the chairs. His hands wrapped around the rounded top of the chair so tightly that his knuckles had lost all color. If he was wrong, he risked making a fool of himself in front of a woman, which wouldn’t exactly be a first, but if he was right, he was staring at someone who was supposedly powerful enough to take on a Forgotten One and not only survive, but actually win.

He did not like his odds if he pissed her off, and she already seemed plenty irritated.

[Remedy]

Sometimes our journeys take us places we never expected. Sullen and lifeless, dirt caked by plague long ago crumbled into dust. Raiaera; home of dreams turned to ash and walled cities cooked by constant threat into spidery turrets and blocky fortifications. The outpost was no different. I had been all across the face of Althanas. I had trekked through the forests of underwood, walked through the tunnels of the great dwarven mines in Alerar, and even crossed the frigid wastes of Salavar. All of this was nothing compared to the putrid stench of death and decay that hung in the air in Raiaera. So thick that you could taste it, so dark it worked its way into the corners of your vision. This was especially true of me. I didn’t like it, but the planar blood that flowed through my veins reacted especially strongly. Part of me told me to run, told me to go fast, fast and not look back.

Yet here I was; sitting, on a rather small and uncomfortable stool, with the silver-eyed ne’er-do-well Illara in front of me and the Ixian pup Rehtul to my side. It was money, and a lot of it, that over powered my angelic side. In truth, it was a side I rarely acknowledged. It was a curse, it was my curse.

I let my fingers tips trace the rim of my cup as the Ixian pup questioned Illara. I didn’t know why he bothered. She was by far the darkest skinned person in the tavern thanks to her mixed heritage. I on the other hand was quite pale. I was one of those people graced with pale skin that burst into freckles rather than tanned in the sun. It went with my hair, ‘red like the fires of passion’ my adoptive father would say. He was one for the flare of the dramatic. For all his praise, I had put little effort into my hair; just enough to pull it back as not to cover my amber eyes. The same eyes glanced at Rehtul and I let my face carry a look of distain, touched with impatience.

“Of course she is Pup, now take a seat and we can get this moving. Mkay?”

I knew I was a bit harsher than probably intended. I couldn’t help but let my disdain for the do-gooders the Ixians drip out through my words. Bunch of idiots, they had nearly destroyed the world and were certainly the cause of thousands of deaths.

“My question,” I said, flicking my amber eyes to Illara’s silver, “is how the hell we are supposed to get in and get out safely.”

[The Mongrel]

In response to the slightly shiny waif's question, I pulled a crisply-folded sheet of parchment from my leather cuirass, spreading it neatly on the smooth table for both the Orlouge and the girl to see. Every idiot who had answered the Council's call for the Day of Burning had been issued an identical one. It detailed locations of known ruins, their approximate danger levels, and the clearest paths through the forest. My map had a few additional scribblings on it.

There was the path I'd followed out with Siegfried and company. It wasn't entirely safe, but it was better than the ones the scouts had given the cartographers. I'd scratched out the marked Durklan ruins and circled the elven ones, and noted other buildings I'd seen on my travels. They too were either scratched out or circled.

The quiet of the tavern turned breathlessly silent. Despite being forbidden to accompany me by decree of every authority figure, my mother's people had a deep curiosity about my plans. I paid their attention no mind. Let them know. It was a fool's errand, going back into the Red Forest. It may have even appeared selfish. What true hero would seek out monetary gain after their deeds of valor?

So much the better if they think I'm just a mercenary after all.

"We'll follow this route out to this point." I tapped the clearing where I'd fought the Red Witch. It was only just on the map; I'd ventured deep while seeking answers for questions that still burned. "I...lost something there, something important. It is my hope to reclaim it. There's a building less than a mile from it, a huge mansion that should still contain the treasures of its owner. I do have to warn you that it's Durklan architecture, so it is more than likely more hostile than the rest of the Lindequalme."

I took a sip of my wine. It was a rare bottle from the former fiondor, the excellent vinyards that had flourished before Xem'zund laid waste to the richest parts of my homeland. It had been a gift, a token of gratitude for services performed. An honor. The flavor was rich, but the bite of alcohol was far from overbearing. Notes of wood, spring rain, and fresh berries mingled with the grapes; for a wine, it was good. I missed my ale from back home, but when in Raiaera, drink as the Raiaerans drink.

"The buildings that appear on the original map are likely picked clean; we won't bother seeking treasure in them. But this will be a journey of several days each way, and there is likely old protective magic woven into the elven homes. They will provide the best opportunities for rest, once the wards are activated."

I didn't tell them that I wasn't sure if I could still activate the wards or not. I knew the words and cadences very well, but if I was right and I was merely a vessel the Stars were using to kill Pode, their favor may well have worn away by now. I could be leading us all to death.

"As far as your safety..." I scanned my two companions with silver eyes I still didn't recognize in the mirror. She was the color of fire - bright white, red, gold. He was the color of ice - various whites and blues. Winter and summer. Did that make me the fall?

"The Lindequalme is one of the deadliest places on Althanas. Just because I have a map and a plan does not guarantee your safety. There are fewer threats with the demise of the Witch, but what's left is unsettled and angry. We could all die. If you hear this and decide the very real dangers are not worth the vast, but not guaranteed, rewards, I will not be offended if you turn from this table. But there is liviol within the forest. Gold and jewels bleed from some of the cursed buildings. There might even be adamantine, if that sort of thing interests you. It is your choice."

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul looked over the map with a curious eye. Many of the notes were interesting, but he could not tell what each meant just by looking. It did, however, seem that the circled areas were safe to enter while the blotted out areas were dangerous, or perhaps already cleared out by previous adventurers. The mention of the mansion that the Forgotten One had recently called home held little interest to the young man, but he did make a mental note that it existed, just in case what he was looking for was lying in wait.

When she finally got around to mentioning the dangers, the Ice mage could only smile lightly. There were many who underestimated him due to his age, and a being as old as an elf would most certainly underestimate him, but there was little he would avoid in order to further his research into the magics of the world, particularly if he was able to come up with a reliable counterspell for anyone who would have taken a lesson from Pode.

He took the bottle with his name on it and held his hand out toward the table in front of him. The air began to chill in front of his outstretched hand as the moisture in the air began to solidify in the shape of a chalice. The young mage’s eyes did not leave the cup as he poured himself a healthy helping. He gripped the cup lightly and brought it to his lips, allowing the now-chilled wine to run down his throat easily. He sighed in satisfaction as he looked back at the map, and then at the elven maiden in front of him.

“Honestly, I don’t know much about the dangers of the forest,” he admitted up front. He knew there would be potential complications, but he did not believe that it was very likely to bother him over much. He’d been practicing in the Citadel for the last few months in order to bring himself to where he’d be more able to defend himself.

“However, I believe that I am capable enough to see myself through the Lindequalme... No, I’m speaking wrongly. I believe that I am capable enough to help you and get us in and out alive. I do have some selfish reasons to be there, namely I’m doing research for... personal reasons, but I would never leave anyone behind in that forest by choice. On that much at least you have my word.”

He looked over the map one more time with a single eyebrow raised.

“I am curious about the marked out areas of the map, however. Is there something particular about them that we should avoid?” he asked.

[Remedy]

“I can attest to an Ixian’s desire to help people,” I said with a terse edge, “regardless of rational thought.”

I was wary of our conversation drifting on for too long. The tavern, even at the edge of the plaguelands, carried that distinctive smell of piss and sorrow. The map Illara carried seemed useful, but it was her own notes on it that gave me peace of mind. If you send enough fools into the jaws of death eventually one one will emerge safe. Her markings shows a deliberate attempt to understand the forest. That was something at least.

Shit… I thought to myself as I turned the facts over in my head. Here I was about to enter the Red Forest like some greenhorn ranger with a death wish. At least we had the Ixian pup. Despite my abrupt comments, I was pretty sure he’d freeze, blast or burn anything that appeared before us. Orlouge’s were as varied as coins, but they always seemed to harness destructive magics. Plus, he was tall enough for me to hide behind.

“The Pup’s right, I’m all for plotting the easiest route, but whatever we do we’re going to come up against some pretty tough stuff. What exactly are we going to come across?”

Without thinking I pulled a roll of leather from my bag near my feet and opened it on the table. The bag was a collection of tools and spare parts. Glass, copper and steel danced with fire reflected from the candles around us as my fingers pulled out a small glass sphere ringed with copper. I moved with practiced precision as I pushed gears into a predefined order at the top of the sphere before pushing it back into it’s spot in the bag and repeated the process with another.

[The Mongrel]

The few elves who were either attempting to or successfully ignoring my rag-tag table turned their heads when the girl began manipulating her Alerian contraptions. Sounds that fell upon human and Mystic ears as soft creaks and pops were more like a grinding, grating cacophony to more sensitive hearing. For me, just across from Remedy, it was like being right next to a toddler who had just discovered that iron pots and a wooden spoon make an excellent drum set.

"Please put that away while we're talking. It is loud and disruptive. To answer both of your questions," I leaned forward, rubbing the side of my neck. "The marked out areas are Durklan ruins. They are particularly dangerous and it is my intention to avoid them if possible. The encircled areas are elven ruins. There are old magics in the architecture, and they might offer safe havens. Believe me that we will be glad at any offer of respite."

I took another sip of wine, analyzing the pair in front of me. Did they even have four decades of life between them? A tinkerer of questionable skill and experience. An Orlouge cryomancer, so casual about his magic, so cocksure. So vain. If I was kind, I'd have sent them off and made their travel in vain. Because what waited in the forest...

"As to what we may find within the Lindequalme, it really depends just how lucky we are. If the Stars smile upon us, we're looking at ruilserk vines and some basic undead. If not, we might see soul blossoms, Dur'Taigen packs, tougher undead, or ravenous, angry crossbred plant and animal abominations. I've even heard tell of animated plant golems. And then, of course, there are the illusions. Sights of your worst fears or deepest desires, the siren calls of your closest friends or fiercest foes may very well try to lead you astray. Don't let them."

I looked between my two potential companions, tired of talking and preoccupied with necessary preparations. "For now, you've both had long travels and require rest. This inn has offered you each a room and a meal. Eat, sleep, get ready for the journey. I leave from the west gate at dawn. If either of you decide between now and then that you do not wish to go, I will be neither surprised nor disappointed. Only fools go into the Lindequalme."

With that, I took my map and stood, heading for the outpost's meager market.


~*~*~

Hold on, Mutt. Just a little longer. I'm coming.

I arrived at the gate before the sun's first rays could kiss the eastern horizon. Thick mist hovered above the frost-covered ground, creeping ever closer. My throat tightened and I felt my balance waver, but I forced myself to breathe slowly. After a minute, the vertigo dissipated and my lungs unlocked.

I wore my light leather armor over my clothes, my weapons were razor sharp, my hair was braided tightly around my head. In my pack I carried six canteens of water and two dozen waybreads. With any luck, the supplies would last.

I turned my eyes to the inner road when light touched the horizon. Would either youngling come? Or would I once more wander alone into one of the most dangerous places in the world? Might that be for the best? At speed, with luck, I could be in and out within a day, and back at this outpost by mid morning the day after. Those children would slow my journey.

Without luck, though, I would die alone in the forest. I wasn't stupid enough to think otherwise. And so I waited.

Please be there, Mutt.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Shadows danced within darkness. A forest canopy stretched far above, blotting out the stars. Even the moon couldn’t be seen through the canopy above, and the young mystic was simply standing there. He glanced both ways, in a vain effort to look for his companions. Cold sweat broke out on his brow.

“And you honestly think they’re still here?” a voice said from within the shadows. “Face it, you’re out of your depth.”

Rehtul’s eyes snapped to the source of the sound, seeking the face of the man he knew was standing within the darkness of the Red Forest. A red tinged hand gripped his shoulder from behind. In the blink of an eye Rehtul turned and stared into the eyes of the man who had raised him, Succed Orlouge.

“Father, what are you doing here?” he asked. Eyes watched from everywhere in the forest, looking upon the two, as if waiting for the conversation to finish. Hushed breathes spoke back and forth through the shadows, but nothing could be made out.

“I think that question is better suited for you, isn’t it, son?” the man asked, his placid expression unchanging. That bored look on his face, the lack of emotion behind his dead eyes, told Rehtul that this was indeed the man he thought it was. Few could match the disconnection with human emotion that his father had long mastered during his long years of research into magic and avoidance of social customs.

“You know very well why I’m here. I left the note at the Castle in case anyone was curious,” his son answered. The sun above shone brightly, though the forest's colors were still muted and dampened around the two.

“You look to succeed where I once failed... Don’t think this is about anything else. You should have waited for me to get back before heading off into this reckless endeavor.”

Tendrils of red energy crept out from the roots of the nearby trees, seeking out the two as they faced one another. The young man shrugged his shoulder and pushed his father’s hand away from him.

“We have business to discuss, but that can wait until later. Can you help me find my companions or not?”

“Why exactly should I do that?” Succed asked. A red glint appeared in his eyes as a hint of a malefic smirk crept into his features. “Nothing here is at it seems. Wake up!”

With a start, the young elementalist was back at the inn, head buried in a pillow. He yawned mightily and pulled himself up to a sitting position. He unwrapped himself from the comforter, and all the while wished that he’d been able to sleep a little better than he had the night before.

“That was one odd dream,” he muttered under his breath as he sat down in front of the mirror in the room he’d been provided. With an ease that belied the number of years he’d obsessed over it, he wrapped his hair into a loose braid and tied the end with a bright silver clasp.

A slight smile crossed his features as he pulled on his undershirt and robes. The adventure ahead would prove to be fortuitous if everything turned out how he hoped they would. While he had his own reasons for coming, and one of them was to show up his father, there was a deeper reason. With a final check to make sure he had everything of importance on his person, he turned toward the red oak door of his room and walked out, bidding one last farewell to the shadows that had haunted him in the night.

He arrived moments after Illara had. The sun was starting to rise in the east, but he paid it little mind. The city was just beginning to wake up. The early morning crowd was already milling in the streets, getting food and other necessities for the day, just like any town in Corone. The similarities were comforting to Rehtul, but he was preparing to head into completely alien territory.

For a moment his thoughts went back to the dream. Perhaps he had been acting a little hastily. He laughed and shook his head at his own doubts before turning to Illara.

“We’re waiting for one more, then?” he asked, attempting his best mimicry of a laid back, optimistic attitude. He wasn’t sure why he insisted on showing this false bravado, as he knew it would inevitably fall apart when they were faced with something sufficiently dangerous.

Do I really care what these people think of me this much? he wondered idly.

[Remedy]

The sun poured lazy early morning rays of light through the curtains. They splashed across my bed, still a tangle of sheets and covers from my night’s sleep. I had dragged myself out of slumber some time earlier in order to prepare for the coming trip. I took some time to ready myself in the mornings. It was a trait that I had heard many men complain about, but it wasn’t some sort of mystical feminine ritual that took time. It was more the inevitable surrender to wearing my custom made cloths. They looked like normal leather pants, top and jacket, but they provided me with salvation from myself.

As I stood in the middle of my room with my night shirt billowing around my body, I let the sunlight drench my skin. For the moment I was whelmed in the gentle, warm caress and in that moment, that single moment I was free.

All good things come to an end, as they say, and so too did that moment. I felt the drops of flame on my skin before I saw them. The small blue flickering lights dripped down my forearm and off my fingers to the floor. Finding no purchase on which to ignite on the tough, smooth wood, the flames flicked a final time. I lifted my hand up to look at it and let the flames trace my movements to end up in my palm.

“The ever present alarm clock,” I said as I closed my hand around the flames, “one day…”

With my moment in the sun truly ended, I turned to my cloths laid out on the table. It was time to get ready.


* * * *

The streets were filled with people like any of the dozens of cities and towns I had been to. Even the tall, spidery buildings that twisted through the air seemed more normal in the fresh morning sun. There was a big difference that I did notice, and it stuck out like a sore thumb. There was no sense of entrepreneurship that I had come to expect, and love, from other cities. People moved and talked out of necessity, even to the extent where the traders peddling their wares seemed to do so with sunken spirits.

Despite the general doom and gloom that seemed to coat everything, I arrived at the gate to meet my new business partners. I pulled my leather jacked down at the front, more out of comfort than any attempt to appear more presentable, even if that was the appearance. The still cold touch of my jacket was at odds to the small pack tugging at my shoulders and the roll of tools that Illara had chastise me over the night previous just below that.

“Greetings Partners, I trust we are prepared to launch this endeavor?” I shot Rehtul and Illara a bright, white toothed smile. I was keenly aware of how the morning light caught my red hair and amber eyes. A girl has to think of such things in the business world.

[The Mongrel]

The sun grew ever higher over the dusty horizon, turning black sky blue and burning off the crimson fog. My ire grew with the light. I'd hoped to be gone by then, a mere speck to the sight of my keen-sighted kin, but the only punctual member of the group was the Ixian brat. I knew how deep my bitterness toward his kind ran - his name, his blood, his allegiance, they were all anathema to me. If the young tinkerer had abandoned him to me, I could not guarantee his survival because I would probably put a knife in his back myself. Long, tense, silent minutes crawled by, minutes which could have been used to walk. Everyone else was so damned slow; I could have been leagues away already, but my companions (or companion, if the petit redhead didn't show up within a few heartbeats) would need me to check my speed.

If only I thought the Lindequalme safe enough to walk on my own. If only I didn't know better. If only I could have found Erirag again; my companion through the second stage of the Day of Burning was hardy and intelligent. If only.

She didn't come. It was just me and the vainglorious Orlouge. In that moment, I almost wished I'd elected to bring my brother and maybe two of the Bladesingers in his company, or that I had friends close at hand. Almost. If wishes were acorns, Haide would be paradise, as they say. It's no good wishing for things that never can be.

"Just us," I told Rehtul, turning to trade crude cobbles for the roughly-rutted road out. I'd waited as long as I could afford; now all I could do was hope that my frosty companion proved himself useful enough that I didn't have to kill him too soon. It would be all too easy for anyone who knew him to believe he'd gone into the Lindequalme and succumbed to its dangers. All too many had, over the centuries.

I hadn't even taken two steps past the gate when a voice as bright as brass called out. I turned, letting my eyes narrow in a silver glare. Remedy Blue stood with her equipment and a big grin, nearly glowing in the sunlight, preening in it. Vanity! I had sent out a message calling for seasoned warriors with whom to invade the Lindequalme, and a pair of appearances-obsessed children was what I had to work with.

Stars save me, this is going to be a long trip.

"You are late," I snapped. "Whatever took you so long today, don't let it hamper you in the future. Where we're going, there will be no time for a morning paper and lingering cup of tea."

Rebuke issued, I stepped back out of the gate, expecting the pair to keep up. I was only moving slightly faster than an ordinary human was comfortable with. "If we're lucky, we'll make the edge of the forest before dark. There might be an abandoned station from the Re en' Naaraya where we can camp for the night. First light tomorrow, and no later, we enter the Lindequalme."


~*~*~

We saw only the occasional traveler on the road, none of whom wished to make any trouble with us. To be fair to them, if I saw one of the five who slew Pode heading back to the forest with a purposeful stride and war upon her face, I'd probably also steer clear of her.

I hadn't been entirely coherent when my brother's company brought me out of the blackness beneath the boughs, but passing back through, I could see the deep wagon tracks, myriad overlapping hoof prints, and vast tracks of flattened grass along the road that marked first the incoming swarm of adventurers and then their retreat. Some had trudged away defeated. Others had come away jubilant. In places there were deeper, more deliberate marks where tents had been laid - the injured, being carted away and cared for. I doubted if anyone who had actually gone into the forest at the High Bard Council's call came out celebrating.

There had been horrors within that no one could have anticipated; just before her death, the Red Witch had tailor-made her attacks for any foolish enough to challenge her. I could still feel the wounds on my soul, raw and bleeding, though the cuts and bruises had mostly mended. I wasn't looking forward to facing the images and voices again; I'd far sooner face a horde of monsters than a single cutting illusion.

I first caught a glimpse of the forest at about noon, and it was just a line on the far horizon. Since I know humans and their ilk to be as blind and deaf as they are slow, I didn't point it out until two hours later, when I could clearly make out individual trees and the few lonely tents from what had been the Council's command center. We still had nearly ten miles to go, and I wouldn't have ordinarily pointed anything out for half that distance, the former Belegwain I Beleg was so monumental I doubted their eyes could miss its looming crimson presence.

"There it is."

[Rehtul Orlouge]

The three walked in pretty much complete silence for most of the day. Rehtul brought up the rear, hoping to avoid the gazes of the two women as much as humanly possible. There was something about the way the elf woman looked at him, something in her gaze that told him he was in trouble. He couldn’t quite put his finger on precisely what the problem was, though he had a few guesses.

As they walked, he held his chin in his index finger and thumb, debating the best way to go about the goal he had in mind for the forest ahead. A black look crossed his face as people continued to pass them on the road. Who in their right mind would accompany the now-legendary Illara into the Red Forest on purpose? Even if she’d survived, even if she’d landed the final blow on the Forgotten One, the forest was still far too dangerous for normal people to be able to deal with.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as his feet continued to plod along the road, until he was brought up short by Illara speaking.

“There it is,” he echoed as he beheld the giant, looming forest in front of him. There was easily a distance left, but this forest was so large it made Concordia Forest look like a city park by comparison. A sea of red and crimson extended out in front of him. He could feel the strength of the curse, even from this far. The evil power that radiated through the Lindequalme was overwhelming. It was a power that he had never experienced in his life and one that in his later years, as the curse finally began to fade from the collective memories of the world, he would recount with a sense of dread in his voice that would not be matched by most of his other stories.

He looked out into the forest, hoping to gauge the amount of time his studies would require. Sadly, he was unable to really make much out with the distance, over ten miles, left to go. The forest seemed peaceful from this distance, beautiful even. If it wasn’t for the obvious malevolent energy pouring out from the center of the forest, Rehtul would have thought that it was little more than a forest in autumn, or some oddly colored trees.

If this was the remnants of a now-dying curse, he trembled to think what the spell at full power would have been.

“Just... how malevolent was this Pode person?” he whispered under his breath. Whether either of the others heard him was not his concern. He now knew for a fact that this power was different than anything he had experience before, and that he would have to apply everything his father had taught him to avoid being affected by it.

Though whether that’s even possible...

[Remedy]

About two hours into the trek I had finally succumb against my better judgement. I had taken off my jacket and draped it over my head as protection against the sun. The breeze felt good against my sweat slicked skin and the unscheduled break had been worth Illara’s dagger filled gaze. I acted innocent, letting her ire pass through me as a stone passes through water. This seemed to enrage her more, much to my delight.

That had been hours ago now. Thankfully Rehtul’s eyes had looked everywhere except me clad in just the short top i wore under my jacket. I knew the Ixian kid would probably be too ‘good’ to succumb to such beastial desires, but, a lifetime of busy market places and wandering hands had given my a somewhat cynical outlook on such things.

Our intrepid trio were close enough myself and the Ixian Pup to see the forest and deserted camps that had marked the base for the recent push to cleanse the forest of it’s curse.

“I’m not sure you can use the word ‘person’ to describe Pode,” I interjected before Illara could answer, “Her and the others that cursed Althanas were nearly Thaynes. Certainly their powers would rival those of the lesser.”

I remembered stories I had been told when I was younger, back when stories like these seemed like fairy tales to scare children. Now were were actually here, with the forest in front of us. I remember how crimson it was, like everything was stained with blood.

“Before you answer the Pup’s question. What’s the plan for camping? Are we crashing in some of those abandoned tents? Do we need to keep guard or something?”

I looked at Illara from under my jacket. I was somewhat keen to rest for the night, but the Thaynes knew I wasn’t going to say so.

[The Mongrel]

"We have hours of walking ahead of us." I glanced down at our shadows to estimate the time; we were barely into the mid afternoon. "We will discuss camp when it is time to camp, and where we camp will depend on whether we reach the tents. If we don't, we'll have to find a comfortable patch of ground, so do stop dragging your feet."

I should have left earlier. The girl wasn't dressed for the road, much less the Lindequalme. She was going to die in there, and unless she toughened up, wisened up, and smartened up fast, there was precious little I could do about it. I should have taken my lumps and gone with my brother. Aurient give me patience to not slap this child or Selana give me the grace to turn her around.

At least the Ixian kept up and shut up. He hadn't actually done anything offensive yet, in and of himself. The biggest, most damning black marks against him were the blood that flowed in his veins and the group to which he owed allegiance. Unfortunately for him, I couldn’t forgive his black marks. All I could see that he was fair as fresh snow on the outside, but within he curdled black as sin, stained with the wrong-doings of his clan.

“As for Pode’s malevolence…” My mind went back to the pristine courtyard where the Red Witch had greeted me in her final hours of life. I remembered the conversation we had had, the words she’d said, the words that had echoed true. Her strongest attribute was deceit; doubtless if I hunted down the other four and spoke to them, I’d find ways she’d lied to them as well.

But all liars know that the most believable lie is mostly truth, and Pode’s lies had been potent indeed.

“Power and anger can do terrible things. What would you do, Orlouge, if someone came into your castle, left it in ruins, raped the women, stole all the valuables, and then slaughtered every single member of Ixia, save for the few who were out of their grasp? Men, women, children, left to suffer and burn, because of some outside force’s greed. Surely your actions would be malevolent, but would you not consider them justified?”

We fell back into silence for a while after that, walking along the rough and broken road toward the Lindequalme. I could feel my body tensing and my throat trying to close up intermittently, but I kept moving forward. More and more, closer and closer, back to the shadows of the curse.

My people were right to fear it.

“Personally, I still don’t see the need to reclaim the Belegwain I Beleg, not with the Plaguelands still active. But such a one as I am not privy to the wisdom of the High Bard Council.” My sarcasm was so thick I could almost taste it on my tongue; I’d never been in a position to respect the Council. Fear them, yes, always. Obey them, trust them? Never.

“Either way, the deed is done, the Witch is dead, and the Forest sure to be purified within a generation or two. An elven generation; your grandchildrens’ grandchildren will not be alive to see the last of the curse expunged unless something very big happens.”

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Comparing the Forgotten Ones to the Thayne was something the young mage hadn’t heard someone do since the days he’d heard the stories of the War of the Tap, some thousands of years in the past. The fact that people still considered these beings to be on par with the gods themselves spoke volumes of what they were capable of. Still, though, he didn’t feel that he had been wrong in labeling Pode a person. Regardless of the amount of power a being, immortal or otherwise, was capable of amassing, becoming prideful and falling as a result of that pride still proved to be something that only people seemed capable of.

At Illara’s illustration of what might have happened to the Ixian Castle in detail, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as his eyes narrowed dangerously. He could feel the barely contained anger that he had fought so hard to keep reigns on in the wake of the attack on the castle, and worse the treatment that his own flesh and blood, his sister Aislinn, had endured both at the hands of the perpetrators and of his own uncle Ciato.

“You want to know what I would do in that situation?” he asked, fully aware that it was a rhetorical question. The air around him began to cool as a fine white mist issued from his mouth in small puffs. “The answer is quite simple, really. I’d impale all of them and then freeze dry their corpses before sending them home in shattered little pieces.” The vehemence with which he spoke was something he was unused to, and the most that he had said the entire trip toward the forest. However, more pronounced was the angry, venomous look in his eyes that dared anyone to question the sincerity of his words.

Slowly, he grasped his fingers into a fist and breathed in and out slowly for a few moments as the temperature in his immediate vicinity began to rise back to the norm. He closed his eyes, issued one last hissing breath and opened his eyes, his face an emotionless mask once more.

I will not be conquered so easily, he thought as an insincere smile crossed his face, more of a painful grimace than any smile as it would be known by man or elf. He knew they wouldn't buy it, but he hoped sincerely they'd be willing to let it go.

“My apologies for the outburst,” he said as he clasped both hands together behind his back. Silence hung between the three for a few moments before he spoke once more, “Bad memories.” He coughed quietly before speaking once more.

“Shall we continue? We’re burning daylight, as the lady Illara has already pointed out. While I’m not above camping under the stars, I’d rather not be lying out in the open so close to the forest.”

[Remedy]

I could feel the cold rage emanating off the Ixian pup. To use a pun most deserving, he was chilling. It was only this distinct cold rage that stopped me entertaining the idea of annoying him more to keep the free cool breeze blowing. I had many things to say about the Ixians, but none of them were suitable right now, and I figured being stabbed through the chest with an icicle wasn’t the best way to kick off our intrepid trio’s journey.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all…. I mused as we continued walking in silence. So far my companions hadn’t shown the best of personalities. Illara seemed to have a stick so far up her butt I wouldn’t be surprised if she sneezed spinters. Rehtul seemed to carry a chip on his shoulder the size of an iceberg.

Why the hell did I agree to this? I thought to myself. Illara seemed to be wearing a thin smile, probably proud she got such a rise out of the Ixian pup. Money! The answer to my question speared through my mind, and I gripped my backpack straps and increased my pace. Focus money, ignore drama!

It didn’t take too much longer before we reached the edge of the forest. Well, in the grand scheme of things it didn’t take too much longer. When we reached the camp my legs felt like jelly and I was sweating from places that I didn’t know had pores. I walked into the deserted camp and dropped my backpack before I even looked around. It was stupid, I know, but I had slightly different priorities in that moment, and getting my backpack off was right at the front.

The camp was indeed deserted. Tents stood in haphazard circles spread around the camp. Some had been partially deconstructed, others had fallen down, or just left where they stood. In between the deserted tents squares of yellowed grass or compressed dirt marked where others had been taken down and carted off when the camp was abandoned. Were it not for the exhaustion of the death march Illara had made us embark upon, I would have realised that the abandoned tents stood as graves for the men and women that had not returned from the forest.

Over the camp, looming high above us was the edge of the forest. Large red leaves glistened in the setting sunlight like freshly spilt blood. Even the bark of the trees was the same crimson hue, twisted and contorted by Pode’s magic.

I ignored my comrades for the moment and dragged by backpack towards an abandoned fire pit. There was some fresh firewood that had been left nearby, and I chucked two logs into the middle and lifted my hand towards it. Blue flames cascaded from my palm and twisted and rolled over themselves to fall over the logs. If I’m honest, lighting the fire was secondary to using my magic. I had spend a decent amount of the day with my jacket pulled up over my head, and it had taken a lot of control to keep the magic under control. This was a release of the pent up energy more than anything. The flames filled the pit and sat as a burning mass of liquid fire as it slowly evaporated into the air and left the logs burning nicely.

“Fire’s lit!” I half shouted, half spoke to my colleagues.
The elves that had set up the tents had been careful to dig the pit deep enough the hide most of the light that emanated out of the camp. They had used tents, mostly still standing, to capture the rest. I didn’t really care about that for the moment, instead I flopped onto the ground and let relief flood through my body.

Seriously… I’d have hired some horses or something.

[The Mongrel]

Again I stood before the great cursed forest, watching the orange evening sun trickle weakly through its vermillion branches. After eight days - ten or twelve before we reached him - could my brave Mutt have possibly survived so brutal an environment? If not, if this whole venture was a mad, pointless dash... what then? I should have made the Bladesinger troop turn around and found him before leaving the ominous gloom that pervaded the twisted trees.

"Hear the forest singing its silent song of death, where the Witch will chill your blood and freeze your very breath. Don't step beneath the blood oaks, lest they rend your flesh from bone. Be wary of the blossom that will steal your very soul. Listen, child, and fear it, the horrors that begot from wrathful Pode's curse: the land that light forgot." I spoke the ancient warning tune; though my voice falls fair enough to human ears, it does not fall pleasingly into elven ones. Even so, the haunting refrain echoed through my head. Land that light forgot, indeed. Just being this close sent cold prickles up my arms and spine.

Up to that point, I had not been mindful of the two youths who had accompanied me to the border. Of course I heard Remedy shuffling around with the fire pit. Of course I knew very well what had happened to Ixian Castle at the hands of the Cult of Blessed Torture. I'd hit that nerve very deliberately, testing to see what the Orlouge was made of. Now I knew how he could be nettled and goaded, where and how vulnerable his weak points were.

The tents around us stood in testament to some faction's hasty retreat. The heavy, waterproofed canvas had been imported from Corone, but the design was Raiaeran, tall and graceful. Most early arrivers had been issued tents and assigned camps; this was one of many. The fact that it still stood said that it was either a human camp or that everyone therein had been wiped out. That almost all of the tents were ripped or toppled, that there were traces of blood on the ground, that told of actual fighting that had happened at this camp.

Whoever had stayed here last had been ambushed from within the forest, and I felt my eyes go back to probing the crimson darkness warily. Had miasma roiled out and then erupted into undead? I didn't see any paw prints, so that ruled out a Dur'Taigen attack. There were some severed Ruilserk vines toward the edge of camp, but the vampire vines had more likely reached out to snatch opportunistic prey, rather than initiating an assault themselves. The jumble of footprints all over and around the camp told the story well enough. The fight had been quick and brutal.

Adding to the foreboding atmosphere of the camp, there were no corpses littered about. Either they'd been raised for Pode's dark purposes in the last days of the Day of Burning, or they'd been consumed by whatever had come out of the forest. I couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought. So much waste. So much death. For what?

"Three hour watch shifts. That'll let you each have six hours. Orlouge, take first watch once we settle in. I'll take the middle night. Blue, you get third shift, which will go into dawn." Rehtul wasn't as wiped out as Remedy, and I wouldn't be deeply asleep, so if we came under attack and he wasn't vigilant, I would hear and wake up. In the deepest, blackest part of the night, my senses were far and away the best; I had a full range of vision and could hear a mouse breathe from a hundred yards away. Remedy would be refreshed after sleeping and would be capable of standing watch, and maybe, with that long to get herself together, she would be ready to go in a timely manner.

"Prepare food if you want it. I'm going to scout and see if there's anything useful left lying about. Select a tent as well. One tent. It's easier to watch a smaller area." I dropped my bag by the fire, then turned, aware of the eyes on my back. For the first time in days, I allowed myself to stretch my legs and move at my preferred pace. Rows of tents passed by in an eye blink, the mostly flat ground presented no obstacle.

Very little of true value remained among the tents. Delyn and dehlar swords, a liviol longbow (complete with Akashima redwood arrows with mythril heads), and some coinage were among the useless items scattered across the hundred or so yards that made up the camp. I did find a quiver with a few appropriately sized cyper and steel arrows, to which I helped myself, and I gathered a few other weapons that my companions might find useful. What I was most pleased to find, though, were a handful of empty tin cups and a long spool of twine. I could use them and the ball bearings I already carried to set up a quick and effective alarm system around any area we chose to camp. It would be a good ward against blind human eyes and deaf human ears.

I hadn't been gone ten minutes when I picked up the last of what I wanted and started back for the center of camp. I was very close to the tree line, closer than I would have preferred. Though the sun had not yet set, red mist still threatened to roll out from between the trees, and I could hear twigs cracking and leaves crunching. The sounds were distant, but within earshot was already too close for my comfort.

Click.

I turned back toward the forest at the sound, right hand veering for my new sword. Within the beige bounds of the outermost row of tents, I fancied myself safe enough to investigate the source of the sound.

Click.

It came from halfway up the nearest tree, and I almost missed it despite it being as big as a housecat. Its mottled red carapace blended perfectly with the bark on which it crouched. Its beady little eyes watched my every movement. I didn't trust that it was harmless, but it was just a beetle. I turned back toward the fire pit.

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

The thing's screech sounded like the klaxon of hell itself, octaves above what the humans could hear, but it cut through my head like a saw. My hands clapped to my ears and I dropped into the red dirt, unaware of anything but the fact that my head was about to explode. I think I must have screamed, but I don't remember it. All I remember is being aware the sound was getting louder.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

As the trio continued to search the area for anything useful, the scream sounded. It was close by. Without a second thought, the dried meat in the young man’s hand was released. It dropped to the ground, forgotten as he scanned the area for the source of the screech.

Where... where... he thought as he ran through the dilapidated camp. He caught himself on the edge of a root sticking out of the ground and nearly fell to the ground. He hopped on one leg for a few seconds before he finally righted himself. He sighed and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. Aside from the women, there’d only be a couple of sources of noise near the camp that weren’t attributable to the wind.

Click, click, click...

Obviously that isn’t something that’s supposed to be out here, not so close to what was once a hub of human and elf activity, the young mage decided. He took off at a sprint toward the source of the noise, throwing a single arm out to his right. Cold mist gathered around his hands before solidifying into a spear, tall and solid. He gave it a couple of trial swings on the way, and was satisfied that it would do what was required of it.

He came to a full stop as soon as he got near enough to the noise to see what was going on. He ducked behind one of the tents and surveyed the situation for a second. A small army of giant insects was approaching Illara. They were crawling slowly over the expanse of grass, fallen tents, burnt out campfires, and plots of dirt toward her, and she was either incapable or unwilling to do anything to defend herself. Her hands were clapped over her ears and a look of sheer agony warped her face.

“These things use noise to immobilize their prey through the sense of sound. Elvish hearing isn’t exactly a boon when it comes to something like that, I suppose. It must register on a tone that can’t be heard by humans,” he muttered, more to keep mental notes than anything else. Certain now that he’d gotten a full understanding of the situation, he stepped out from behind the tent and barked an unintelligible series of noises at the giant bugs, hoping to gain their attention. It worked on a few of them, but many more were still crawling slowly toward the woman who was unable to defend herself. After all, what would pass up such an easy meal?

The young man rolled his eyes and stepped forward into the mix. A bunch of dog-sized insects weren’t about to do anything to endanger the mission he’d assigned to himself. He waded into them with a scowl. One of them reached out and clawed his leg. The small cut bled a bit, but did little more in the grand scheme of things than leave the beetle impaled on the end of a six foot long spear of frozen water.

“Honestly, this is more annoying than it is deadly,” he half laughed as he raised a single finger up in the air. Floating shards of ice appeared as he used his off hand to shake his first victim off of his weapon. He growled as the giant shelled beast got stuck on the tip of the spear. Another of the creatures approached him, mandibles clicking audibly. This one clearly meant to take a bite out of him while he was preoccupied.

With an agitated flick of the wrist, he sent one of his summoned shards of ice through the head of the beetle. He clicked his tongue at the offending being and shook his head as it slumped over in front of him. He turned his attention back to the spear and giant bug still stuck to it. He slammed the head of the spear into the ground and put his foot on top of the body of the creature and pulled the spear back through the way it came in.

“Gross...” he muttered as he slung the frozen instrument, attempting to remove the detritus from the shaft.

[Remedy]

“Quick! Someone write this down for the Bards to sing about!” I shouted at the top of my lungs as a jet of blue flame licked across a dozen of smaller insects and left naught but charred heaps. The flames cast a blue hue around them, shining off my sweat slicked skin like some sort of azure savoiur. I had left my jacket with my bag at the fire at the sound of Illara’s cry, but still had the small pack nestled in the small of my back with my most important implements.

“She who brought an end to Pode was saved by two useless humans!” I finished my jeer standing next to the crouched Illara. It was some sight to behold, that’s for sure. The brave half-elf was suddenly as low and useless as the rest of us. The initial jolt of joy at her needing help from the Ixian pup and faded quickly as I stood over her.

“Dammit….” I said, pulling out two grenades from my bag and turning to Rehtul, “If you’re done slaughtering bugs without actually helping anyone, perhaps you’d like to keep these things off my back while I grab our fearless leader?”

The Ixian Pup seemed just that, so fresh it was painful. Probably the most frustrating part was watching him use his power with such abandon. I flicked the grenades towards the oncoming hoard, wide enough apart to make a temporary wall of fire. Unfortunately I only had one left, after Illara had cut me short from working on more during our meeting the night before.

The small glass shells exploded just before hitting the ground, more flames bursting out and incinerating the bugs. I reached down and grabbed one of Illara’s arms and yanked it from her head and over my shoulder. She moaned and pressed her head against my chest as I hauled her to her feet.

Sound? I wondered, the clicking of the bugs was loud, but that loud?

“Come on princess, let's get to the fire. Pup! Cover!”

[The Mongrel]

Wave after wave of relentless sound pounded my head and body, crushing me into the ground. It was like being out in a lightning storm and standing amidst the thunder, except this thunder was directed right at me. The sound was so intense that I couldn't even breathe, and though I tried to rise, to run, or even to crawl, my limbs were just as frozen as my lungs. At every moment, I was keenly aware of the swarm of beetles crawling toward me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

The keening abated abruptly, becoming simply overwhelming instead of paralyzing. Other senses than agony flooded back; I could feel something warm and wet trickling from my ears onto my fingers. I heard a male voice muttering and a female voice crowing, but it sounded like they were on the other side of a storm. I was only aware that they were there, not the particulars of their words.

I felt like I should stab at least one of them anyway, but proper ettiquette doesn't allow for that.

Someone lifted me - rather, someone weaker and smaller than I helped me stumble to my feet. I fought for a moment to find my balance, but it was a fight I lost. Without the little redhead to keep me upright, I'd have simply collapsed again, still disoriented from the insects' relentless audial assault.

Short steps drew us back through the hard-packed dirt and crunchy grass toward the campfire, an ignoble retreat from a set of arthropods. But these bugs wouldn't just stop because we ran away. No. The creatures in this forest were nasty. They would not stop. They would keep coming until they had their quarry or their numbers were too weak. And they would take the other two as well as me, if they were able. There was no telling if these children understood that.

From my belt, I drew one of the daggers I'd picked up from around the camp. Though it was large and not balanced for throwing, it was the first one that came to hand and I didn't have the concentration to find a more suitable one. It flared to life, glowing with starlight.

Still? I thought I'd served the Stars' purpose.

I lifted my eyes to glare at the biggest of the insects, probably the mother of the swarm. She'd been the one who sounded the initial assault. She was the loudest of them, or second only to the slightly-smaller one at the back. Once I had her in my sights, I pulled back and let fly. The blade tumbled, wobbled, and finally sank in between her head and carapace.

The noise immediately dimmed further, and the relieved groan that left my lips was far less legendary and far more authentic than anyone could have expected. The worst of the assault dealt with, I let Remedy keep leading me on the retreat.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Alright, good. We’re clear. I’m tired of sitting here waiting for these things... Rehtul thought as he ran headlong into the middle of the horde of insects with a smile, skewering a number of them on his spear in the process. When he made it to his destination, he threw the spear to the ground, allowing it to melt back into pure water. He stood there, in the middle of the dozens of giant bugs with a smile and motioned for Remedy to remove herself and Illara to the furthest point she could before raising his Mystic Protection spell. A shining transparent glass dome appeared around him. With his body protected, he closed his eyes and brought both hands up above his head.

A cold wind wrapped around the young man as the insects began to swarm over the magical shield he had raised, attacking it on all sides with pincers and claws. It wouldn’t be much longer until there were enough of them to break through the Protection. As small cracks began to appear, he smiled. It was already too late for them.

Water flew up from the grass below, from the very air around the young man, and froze in midair a little at a time. The air became dry and crisp, and the grass browned and flaked away, stripped of all internal moisture in a circle around the young man’s protection for about ten feet in all directions.

There were perhaps twenty dagger sized blades floating in the air above him and the insects. He could feel himself pushing the limits of his magic already, and the cracks were beginning to grow much larger. A content sigh escaped his lips as he brought both of his hands down, raining each shard of ice down on the head of one of the bugs. His mystic protection finally shattered under the combined onslaught of the insects and his own ice attack. It shot out in all directions, skewering even more of the ferocious beasts as they attempted to crawl toward him.

He frowned as he looked around. There were still far too many of them for him to kill. He closed his eyes and balled his fists as the remaining ones came up on him and began biting at his legs. He jumped out of the pit of insects that he had gathered around himself and concentrated all of his focus on the area beneath them. The shards he had planted in the ground earlier all melted and snaked under the beings into a concentrated ball of ice, just as the insects had managed to situate themselves to swarm toward him again.

“I’ll never make fun of an exterminator,” he vowed under his breath as he released both of his hands to lay flat. The ball of ice he’d created exploded outward in all directions, impaling the hard shelled beasts through their shells with the sheer force of their flight. The young ice mage shielded his eyes and detritus and gore exploded onto his clothes from the creatures’ bodies. A twisted grimace covered his face as he thought about how he was going to be able to clean himself off without a source of water nearby to wash in.

With that out of the way, the young mage stood up and dusted himself off. He looked down at his legs and noticed minor gashes, but otherwise he seemed to be unharmed. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he channeled the energy of Mystic light through his body, healing the cuts on his legs easily enough. With that minor annoyance out of the way, he turned toward the path the women had taken to leave and followed them.

It didn’t take him long to catch up. He could see that Illara was in an intense amount of pain, and it seemed focused around her ears. He knelt down next to her and brought both of his hands up, miming that he was going to be touching either side of her head to heal her. He focused his internal reserves and his hand began to glow with a soft white light.

“This might tingle for a few seconds,” he said, knowing that it was unlikely he’d be heard.

[Remedy]

“You Ixians….” trailed off Remedy as she looked up into the smiling face of Rehtul.

He was so casual about the whole thing. He killed everything without a second thought. If he could do that to the creatures of the red forest, what could he do to defenseless peasants?

I tried to maintain my anger, tried to use it to push away the fear that was dripping into the back of my skull. I had watched the waves of bugs fall beneath the torrent of ice. Their corpses were piled high, twisted and mangled carapaces oozing foul liquids. Dammit all! The boy barely seemed old enough to join the militia, and yet he was able to perform such events.

There was little I could do as our savior went about healing Illara. I stood at the edge of the light of the camp fire. The air had started to cool as the sun approached the horizon. The cool air was nice against my skin, nice enough that I felt somewhat comfortable since we had set out. I hugged my arms close to my chest, watching out from the fire towards the forest. Whether it was luck, or some return of fate, nothing came to investigate the commotion we had caused. Perhaps it was the stink of the bugs themselves, foul as it was it’d have driven me away.

For now we’d have to wait for nightfall; and the new day to guide us.

[The Mongrel]

Blessed silence fell when the last insect either died or retreated. Of course, my head still felt like I was standing in a great cathedral bell tower just before morning services, but at least the worst was over. Remedy pulled me over hard, flat ground and guided me to sit on a rock beside the smoky fire. I nearly fell over when she let me go. The assault had stripped me of all coordination and balance - on my own, I would have been a dead elf. I couldn't even see straight, much less pick myself up and crawl anywhere.

Of course, on my own, I wouldn't have been in one place long enough for those Stars-damned insects to target me. I would have been nearly back to Pode's deepest grove by the time night fell. Why had I sent out a request for volunteers to come with me? Why the delay?

Because if I had the choice between setting foot in the Red Forest alone and killing myself, I'd choose killing myself if I was going in for anyone but Mutt.

I flinched when a pair of glowing hands rushed suddenly for my face. When I recognized them as Orlouge hands - Ixian hands - I nearly slapped them away. I only relented because he was either going to kill me immediately and put me out of my misery or he had a healing power he intended to use on me. The pain died down immediately, only to be replaced by the same, strange sensation as a limb falling asleep... in my ears.

After a minute, the sensation subsided. I could hear both humans breathing, I could hear the rustle of wind in the foul trees, I could hear the crackle of logs in the fire. It still felt like someone had taken the hatchet to my head instead of the trees, but it was an improvement.

"Thank you both." The words tasted like ash in my mouth, but they needed to be said. "Neither of you have been here before, have you? That was your first taste of the Lindequalme. And those bugs... are probably the least dangerous things we'll face in there." Two incredulous faces looked into mine. They'd seen me nearly get killed by those insects, felled by an attack their limited senses couldn't detect. And I was saying there was worse?

"There are things in there that prey on avarice, on vanity, on ego... or on anything that has warm blood and a beating heart. I could tell you stories for days about the things I've seen in there, but we don't have the time." I rubbed my neck, where an angry red scar showed the world where Pode had wrapped her hands around my throat to end me. "Long story short... you step into that forest, you give up who you are. Or you will not survive."

"And in Tradespeak that would translate to...?" The words slipped from Rehtul's mouth, probably before he knew he'd thought them, but my eyes narrowed at him all the same.

"It means that if you hang on to your weaknesses, the Lindequalme will murder you hard enough to make the Ixian violence upon Corone's common rabble look merciful." There it was; the venom I'd tried so hard to bite down. I thought I did a good job, considering what stood before me. Just because one of their members had agreed to walk into mortal peril with me didn't make me despise his kind any less.

I wiped the blood from my ears and stood, dropping the found weapons while taking up the cups and string. "I'm going to make an alarm around the camp. Anything sets it off, you wake me. You see anything coming, you wake me. When the moon sits exactly between the horizon and the forest, your watch is over and my watch begins. Wake me if I'm not already up. Orlouge, you have the first watch."

With that, I started setting up the alarm. After that... merciful sleep. Maybe it would ameliorate the agony in my skull.