Deep green, soft green, dying green, ugly green.

The edge of the forest still retained something of its once natural colour. In a moment of pure bliss it was caught between the Thaynes, the attempt to re-open the Tap and the power of minor gods; this was a copse worth fighting for. If there was a singular Earth Mother then this would be her battleground against the evil works of Pode. Or if there was a singular hero this would be where she stood to begin her conquest to bring back life to the bleeding foliage. However, for now, this was just the start of the deadly path for the Nightingale, the faun blessed by Drys, and an earth spirit who was likewise growing in power. Together, in this faint haven of a forsaken paradise they could fight, and delve deeper into the Red Forest to wipe the Red Witch for once off the face of Raiaera.

Silently, after a moment’s prayer to their goddess, the two of them turned to wander back down the nearly un-noticable tracks back towards the rest of their company. They had left them to conduct some religious practise in private before the war ahead. Quickly the green of the leaves turned back to a thick crimson, and the bark transformed to a silver with an almost starlight quality. In some other time it would be magnificent to speak of and see, and maybe in another place, but underneath the canopy of this mad forest it was no comfort. The silver only spoke lies and deceit and the promise of something that was not truly good; a thing of which Philomel knew well.

I would prefer it if we had ventured here with Farragise, Veridian grumbled, right into her mind. She was much help the last time we were here.

Looking around her, checking every branch in case it came to life and snapped at them, Philomel kept walking and took time to reply.

That, my dear, was more than a month ago. Now we are here for quite a different purpose.

Ha! said the fox-formed spirit, bounding over a large grey root. He landed, soundless, in a patch of plantless dirt, where his paws formed perfect little prints. Swishing his tail, he danced in delight around his mark. Different purpose indeed! We are as likely to die now as we were then.

There were noises in the distance. Philomel wrinkled her nose in slight distaste, but nodded forwards, recognising the two distinctly different elves and the human around the edges of trees before them.

We have a bigger group this time, she reminded him. Third time lucky or what have you, darling, but we have some company.

Pah! Not like you and I can take care of our-

He jumped, let out a sudden shriek as a thorn-adorned vine suddenly detached itself from a tree. Previously it had been still and silent, just looking as normal as vegetation should be. It was deadly and sickly blood-red with veins of vomit-brown flowing through it and points as black as night. When a whisp of Veridian’s hair brushed past it the plant-beast whipped up and smacked heavily against his side. Coming seemingly from nowhere neither of them expected it, and it threw the fox-formed spirit mercilessly into a trunk.

Memories of a similar time involving a manticore and a flying island suddenly flooded into Philomel’s mind. Her beloved had been downed then, too, and sent unconscious for Drys knew how long, until they has escaped the bloody place. The anger and sheer rage suddenly ripped through Philomel again as she experienced the pain through their mental connection. Grabbing the hilt of her sword she drew out the shining white blade and ran into fierce retaliation. As the deadly thorns, each as sharp as a shark’s ragged tooth, seemed to enlong and the vine raised for another attack, the faun sprinted like a shadow in the night.

She planted one hoof on the ground and exerted as much energy as she dared. The vine, seething with unfathomed hatred, reached the climax of its ascent - and then whisked, whacked, right down again. Aiming for the earth spirit. Except in this case -

Phhiillommeeelll ...

As a deadly lady of assassination, Philomel met the plant head on. Thrusting her horns into its stem she thwacked it in mid-air in the pivotal moment of her leap. Her blade of white equally moved as strong and swift, cutting through the flesh like a thirsty vampire. A tremble ran through the vine before it came crashing down to the ground, its sap leaking like blood on the dirt.

Near it, and near the bashed and bruised Veridian, Philomel landed, heavily. She rocked on her hooves, gasping slightly for a single breath. As she bent to scoop Veridian up with her free arm the pounding of footsteps could be heard behind.

The voice of Alydia Ettermire came first. “Careful,” she said in an irritatingly silky smooth voice, “There are more vampires among the boughs of the Lindequalme than in the rest of the world entire."

Philomel turned on one hoof to face the company. Of course the thief had stepped forwards and held in her hand a piece of severed blood-vine. As she finished off her speech the object vanished into a void of darkness.

“Whatever, Ettermire.”

The faun glared at the Aleraran thief as she slid her mythril sword back into its sheath. Veridian gulped for air as he leant against her bosom, trying to recover as fast as he could. Tossing back her plait and pretending not to care anymore, Philomel moved quickly, past the elves and the human, back the way they had just come.

“We should get moving.”

She strode right into the foliage, chin slightly raised in an attempt to look more powerful, as much of a competition for the leadership of this group than Ettermire. In a few more steps she bent to place Veridian back on the ground, and so had more freedom to draw her sword, now grungy green with the sap, and her dagger The Lover, in case any more vines needed felling. She did not care much if the others followed close or far, all she was concerned with was showing her strength of mind and attitude. For she was not going to be denied her part of the fighting here.

Deeper into the forest they strove, to a place where thing grew darker and more bloody. The other groups - Philomel had no idea where they might be, but hers was likely close behind from what her quiet moments of reaching out with her earth sense told her. Danger lurked in the shadows of the dark, that was well known, but quite what danger befell them next was beyond anyone’s imagination.