The company bedded down soon after dark, the day's labors proven taxing, especially for the scouts who had rucked at least sixty kilometers while searching for the parties that had passed through the gate ahead of them. That was an average of six kilometers an hour in terrain Ulric knew firsthand to be not level and not without risk at that pace. Then again, they were Elves in a forest, who else would be better suited?

Ulric, at Geyrt's reminder, went out into the cold to do his balance exercises. To his surprise, she actually went out with him and endured the cold while he completed his ten repetitions. He appreciated that, Winter was proving to be a frigid beast up here on the Plateau, it wasn't nothing to go stand watch for a quarter-hour with the wind trying to peel the heat out of one's bones. She also made some corrections for his motions that smoothed a few of the trickier transitions. He made sure to thank her for her assistance before they returned to the relative comfort of the shelter. Shadow or no, Ulric wasn't about to take for granted that a professional scout, big game hunter, and general Elven badass was playing maid in waiting for him. Even if that had come about because she'd tried to murder him in cold blood and then, later, through premeditated deceit. He guessed that, amongst the Iriel'en, live and let live was a slightly more literal attitude.

His shelter wasn't made with so many people in mind, so while he got his bed and Geyrt got Brighteyes' old spot, the troop had arranged their bedrolls as comfortably as possible around the outside fireplace and would find repose in their tents. They were already asleep by the time the erstwhile engineer and his assassin-maid returned. Ulric lay awake for a short time watching the flames lick up the freshly placed firewood, his mind turning over the problem of the seemingly invisible people who were up here on the plateau with them. Something didn't add up.

He wasn't sure what his conscious brain had missed, but he couldn't dismiss the gnawing feeling that they were overlooking some critical evidence to explain how experienced scouts were unable to find even slight traces of passage. An errant wisp of intuition spilled cold water down his belly: The canopy. They weren't on the ground at all, he'd been wrong earlier when he discounted that option.

He thought back to the group he'd rescued Brighteyes from. There was no way those men were up in the canopy by accident. It was hilariously more dangerous to traverse those tangles of branches, winding highway-sized limbs, and to brave the creatures that dwelt there, but that was where the Not Poachers had been. And they'd pulled it off without giving alarm by nervous birds, hungry predators, or ever-alert prey. Somehow, those guys had gotten the inside track, and were able to get around in a place they could never have been before. He'd bet the yak wool socks he wished he had that the new bunch had immediately gone to the tree tops from the Ancient's Gate instead of staying down at the ground, in contrast to his earlier supposition.

Nothing else explained the Iriel'en not finding a single leaf out of place.

But how had they known to do so? It wasn't exactly along the way, the lowest branches of the towering monoliths were three or four hundred meters up. And it wasn't like these woods were well explored, if Bald'rt was correct, there hadn't been anyone up here for a couple thousands of years. So where were the intruders getting their information?

Once again, Ulric considered the potential for some kind of scrying, active or passive detection magic that could view remotely. With something like that, avoiding Ulric's party would be trivial. A drone or hidden eye in the sky could give an insurmountable advantage to a raiding or scouting party. Ulric would suggest that Christ lead his search team to the canopy to pick up trails tomorrow, he knew in his gut that was how their enemies were getting around. It didn't explain how they'd gotten so far without a sign of their passing, but at least it gave Christ's men a starting point. He'd ask if there were ways to prevent scry magic while he was at it. Sleep fell on him shortly thereafter.

Ulric was woken by his Shadow, her cloaked form like some kind of fantastically idealized, buxom angel of death. But what a way to go. Yawning and giving a bone-popping stretch, Ulric climbed out of his blankets. It seems that Geyrt was the early bird, the rest of their team lay snoring in their bedrolls. The smell of wood smoke hung lightly in the cozy shelter. Accompanying it was the faint animal odor of the furs he'd been storing and that slightly earthy, empty house funk.

Before he could forget, Ulric set cross-legged on his bed and addressed the serious young woman.

"Geyrt, the men your scouts are looking for are in the canopy. They aren't traveling down here on the forest floor, they're up there." Ulric pointed upwards to accentuate his statement.

"I discounted it at first, on account of how insanely dangerous it is to travel those ways without knowing them well, but that's where the men who took Brighteyes were when I ambushed them. I think whoever is here is probably from the same place as those guys, and that they, somehow, have knowledge about the layout of the plateau. How else do two separate groups know exactly how to slip through Orlethrem, then find their way through the deep wood to get to this plateau, and then also navigate it undetected? Seems a little farfetched to me." Ulric concluded.

Geyrt thought Ulric's statements over silently for a minute absently chewing her bottom lip. When the somewhat absent glaze left her eyes she was back to laser focus. She was also pissed.

"There are traitors in Orlethrem." She hissed, though he wasn't expecting any such leap in logic.

"These men have been fed information to ease their passage, they have been given the means to penetrate the wards that guard Orlethrem against magical examination. I was skeptical earlier as well, intrusions are possible without collaborators, but this is too much to be coincidence. It was just over a month ago that Lumyt'seit was taken, a second incursion so quickly is only possible with updated information, our patrol paths were drastically changed following his capture." His Shadow informed him, before going quietly pensive.

The Elven woman's ears flittered with agitation and she was chewing a lip aggressively. She tossed the midnight mane confined to its intricate braid before sharing her conclusions.

"It would seem, if you are correct in your thinking, that these men are using the same tactics as the ones from before. All of this points to premeditation. Careful strategy. Our enemies have been planning their movements far in advance, and with help from someone close to Iriel. My people are not unversed in counter-detection magics and they are probing for such. Yet, it seems the enemy has found a way." Geyrt said with disbelieving anger.

Ulric had been chewing on the problem for long enough, ever since he'd rescued Brighteyes, turning over the sheer improbability that was meeting those men at all, to have suspicions.

"I think that I was a fly in the ointment, an unknown entity in their calculations Geyrt," Ulric told her in a hushed whisper as the hunch played out in his mind.

"It wasn't an accident that they took to the plateau, they knew the Forest Lord was dead and they knew they could use that window to get through without serious resistance. Maybe they even knew that a human, if an unknown one, was responsible and thought that they might get aid from their kin." He said, reluctantly.

Ulric wouldn't have the racial biases or hereditary attachments that would make that kind of leverage useful against him, but it would make sense that whoever was about this didn't know that. How would they anticipate a man from another world?

The Reforged confided another potential mindset of their adversaries, "It would make sense that they could, at least, be able to buy impartiality. Whoever is conducting this campaign, they have serious Fuck You money. Operatives that can evade Elves can't be cheap, nor can the skills that bypass the magical shrouds that have shielded your lands."

He only briefly considered leaving off his next thoughts, but it was best to keep things out in the open.

"There is also the fact that, if they knew a human was up here, even if they weren't certain of his allegiances or connections, they'd have little trouble passing off Brighteyes' abduction as the work of somebody else, covering their tracks when your Hunters came up here and killed me in my sleep."

Geyrt frowned but didn't object to that last statement.

Because he was without grace at all, Ulric drove the point home, as it represented a potential weakness to his pointy-eared allies.

"Your kin are no friends to outsiders Geyrt, I'm not under any illusions about how my presence would have been taken had I not stopped Brighteyes' kidnapping and been discovered by your people without his aegis. Strong as your folk are, dominant within your own domain you may be, but insular peoples always develop habits and blind spots that can be taken advantage of by observant parties."

"Now," Ulric whispered, "What are we going to do about it?"

That question caught his Shadow off guard. She looked askance at him, like a new puzzle piece had been added to the stack she was already working on and she didn't quite know how it fit.

"You are willing to help us in this?" She asked bluntly, not bothering to hide her surprise, "Forgive my saying, Glade Chief, but this is a matter for Elves. As much as I want to be with my people, as much as I want to go put arrows in the scum who break our peace, I am your Shadow now, and it would be breaking my oath to do less than I might by putting your interests behind my kin. You do not owe us this, it is enough that you have helped my little brother return home and exposed the threat to our lands. Why would you do this for those to whom you owe nothing, whom you have only just met?"

It was Ulric's turn to be tossed a curveball.

She wasn't wrong. Why did he care so much? All he'd wanted since he got to this world was to be largely left alone to live and do as he saw fit. Part of him wanted to develop his glade home into a wilderness homestead that would bring him comfort and a satisfying life of stewarding the land. Another part wanted to stay put only long enough to grow in his strength to be confident in handling himself so that he could go explore this strange new world. Ever since he'd met Brighteyes those goals had only been slightly refined as he had wanted to make the potent Elves allies, if possible, and a neutral party, if not.

In the month or so since he'd met Brighteyes, something had changed, especially since he'd journeyed to Irielhos and been made welcome in the home of the Deep Wood folk. As he turned it over in his mind, his fingers snapping rhythmically by his side, he decided what the turning point had been: He liked them.

Ulric genuinely liked these people.

They were honest, diligent, stern but compassionate, surprisingly spontaneous and whimsical, at times, and they lived in a harmony with the world that Ulric had never dreamed possible. Maybe they weren't the most inclusive folk, but then, Ulric wouldn't have been either if he had things dialed in as well as they had and had something to protect as fiercely as they did.

Which, he realized, he did. There were strangers on his plateau and it pissed him off. They weren't welcome, they didn't belong, and he'd be damned if he let them get away with trespassing. Ulric could sympathize with these Elves. They lived long enough to witness the gross short-sightedness and selfishness of humans. Every few hundred years, a third of their lifespans, they had to endure incursions and attacks that cost them family, friends, and lovers known for centuries. How could they not view humanity with suspicion and hostility? Just when they'd gotten things settled, they would have to clean up another human mess.

The real mystery was why they hadn't just wiped out the people of Prespang?

It wasn't in their nature, Ulric decided. The Elves were, fundamentally, grove tenders. They loved life and nurturing it to growth, you could see it in all aspects of their culture and, most obviously, in their architecture. They worshipped all things growing. They made war because they had to and the Iriel'en had taken that role upon themselves most especially. Probably to spare the rest of the necessity, as much as possible.

If the Iriel'en seemed to have the attitude of a Comanche raiding party it was probably because they'd been forced to be something they, at an instinctive level, abhorred. Only, the catch twenty-two was that Aes'r he'd met felt compelled to do things in whole parts, it was damned near an Iriel'en phenotype. If warriors and guardians they had to be, then they would do it with nothing held back and with full resentment towards those that made it necessary. No wonder the Iriel'en were such hardcases. He hadn't met the other tribes, he couldn't say how much of his observations he could generalize to the rest of Orlethrem but he felt like, for the deep woods kin, he had a bead on what moved them.

It had been a long moment Ulric realized. He'd gone silent as he thought out what factors had driven him to feel like he needed to help the Elves. He thought of Hal'et. Fierce, playful, laughing, burning gloriously Hal'et. She encompassed the joy for life he found so marvelous in Elvendom. It didn't hurt his attitudes that she had made his world move. Repeatedly. He shook himself to dispel that sorceress and wiped the budding smile off his face. Focus, you randy bastard, We're Talking.

"Against their better judgement, your people have been good to me Geyrt. Your little brother was my first friend in this strange world. Your father is a goofy, plotting, maniacal, powerful asshole and I respect him for it because he does it all to keep his kin safe. You might be a cold-blooded, bushwhacking, assassin lady, but you were pushed into that by those otherkin in Prespang refusing to just act like decent people." Ulric explained to her.

Geyrt frowned briefly when he described her but then nodded, accepting it as a true statement for an outsider. To a non-Elf, a non-Iriel'en, that was basically exactly what she was.

Ulric went on, "Since I was a boy, I have hated my own people for being unable to think past their own short lives and for being so unwilling to make small sacrifices for the good of their neighbors, to say nothing of their own world. You have to understand Geyrt, the humans of my homeland crippled their own world. They took from it, wasted it, exploited everything they could, each other included, until they brought themselves to the edge of extinction."

Even he was surprised at the outrage and open contempt leaden in his voice. He'd come to simmering fury at the memory of it.

"I was born just outside the crisis, a bare century after we turned back from the brink. And, even so close to the edge, we weren't satisfied. I am a product of my people and we never learned to be happy. To coexist in peace. It was an instinct, some bone-deep need we had to push into the unknown, to expand."

"Is this why you are worms in the head all of the time?" His Shadow asked, without sarcasm.

"Probably, yeah." Ulric answered honestly. "Believe it or not, I've settled down quite a bit since I was reborn here. I decided, early on, in this place that is as a paradise lost by my homeland, that I wasn't going to bring the bullshit that made me miserable in that old world with me into this one. It isn't easy, habits are hard to break, but I'm trying. In a way, your people are a model from which to learn. I don't want to be an Elf, but there are things that Elves do, attitudes they have, that are in line with becoming the man I want to be." He admitted.

"And this is why you would help my kin?" She prompted, adopting a thoughtful expression, at odds with her usual resting bitch face.

"Being good to good people is reason enough, isn't it?" He challenged, thinking to the transactional attitudes of his old life that had bred an internalized, almost casual, cruelty that had pervaded society throughout human history.

"If we would all do the right thing, because it was the right thing, there'd be a great godsdamned less suffering in the world. On the other hand, sometimes some people just need killing, kindness is wasted on them. They can't be reasoned with, they won't back down from their prime directive to poison every well from which they drink, and they won't be happy until they've taken everything they can and destroyed everything they can't. Those people ruined my world. I think I'll use the Watcher's gifts in this life to kill those people wherever I find them, like pruning a tree of the rotten bits so the rest can grow correctly." Ulric reasoned.

It wasn't much of a philosophy but it would do for him. The Dao of Some Fuckers Just Need to Die wasn't for everyone, but, for a cynical dick like him, it was definitely the only correct way to respond to the insanity of the world. Justice was great, right up until you realized the law was really only as good as the ones who wrote it, and it only served those who could enforce it, whenever they chose to do so. History made that out to be, more or less, a game of numbers. Every couple of hundred years, the law would become weaponized against the populace to the point that they would discard it, guillotine all the nobles in public squares, and start over.

Nothing was learned. He was bitter about that, most of all.

The beautiful huntress standing nearby came to a decision.

"I may have been wrong about you Ulric. You are worms in the head. You can also be insufferably obnoxious, an "asshole" as you call it. But you aren't a bad person." Geyrt Iriel pronounced.

"You know something Geyrt?" Ulric recalled, "That's exactly the first thing your brother said to me."

The two of them lapsed into a, for him, awkward silence.

"Would the two of you like some alone time?" Christ said suddenly, loudly breaking the moment.

"We can find some task to occupy ourselves, if you like, Glade Chief. Worry not, there is no precedent against enjoying a bit of sheet ruining with one's Shadow, if they are willing. I can be your second, if you fear you will not survive the encounter, Bald'rt's eldest daughter is not a conquest lightly taken and you may not live to see the end of her pleasure." Announced the grinning Elf from the doorway.

Ulric found himself caught off guard, embarrassed by the suggestion, especially as it was something he rather steadfastly avoided thinking about. He had trouble enough dealing with his Shadow, without having that to worry about. They'd almost achieved a certain comfortableness to their relationship over the past ten days. The tips of Geyrt's ears had reddened and her face was a thunderhead, promising lightnings. She was going to do something rash if he didn't head this off. Hurriedly, Ulric cut off whatever brewing violence his abrasive body guard was going to offer.

"Thanks Christ, but I am sure we have better things to do today than indulge your profane fantasies. It wouldn't do to put my guests into the cold while I make them, at first, awkwardly uncomfortable and then, later, mindlessly jealous." He said with feigned regret.

"Besides, if I wanted to commit suicide, I'm sure there are way less painful ways to do it than by playing pin the tail on the Shadow Panther." That last he threw out to help assuage Geyrt's pride.

She wouldn't appreciate anyone making any assumptions on her account. He certainly wouldn't, were he in her place.

It seemed to work, to some degree. His Shadow didn't look like she was going to start peeling bits off of anybody, not right away, and the laughter of the rest of the warriors made the joking suggestion clear to be only that. Fucking Elves. They had the comedic sense of a mosquito, finding all the itchy bits and diving straight for them. No wonder duels were a norm in their culture.

Ulric was going to chalk Christ's little ambush up to revenge for dinner. A little embarrassment was fine, an easy price to pay for inflicting Reaper's Basil on the unsuspecting. Besides, he'd made his stance on Geyrt's beyond-hotness a matter of public record, nobody needed to guess how he felt about that, it was only natural that teasing would occur.

The humor of the Elves was short-lived. Ulric told them what he and Geyrt concluded before Christ had woken and begun his eavesdropping for maximum damage revenge.

Unfortunately, Christ and the others agreed.

"All of our scouts must be notified, they are in danger. We must place them in Hunter Triads and assume the patrols will encounter hostile forces if this is so." Said Santa, his thoughts turned to his Hunter comrades.

"It does not seem possible," Cleaver said deeply troubled. "In three thousand years there has not been a traitor in Orlethrem, not since the tribes consolidated under the current confederacy."

"Perhaps the traitor does not know that they are a traitor." Mused Twin Two.

"Indeed, the enemy may have devised a way to hide their true nature and infiltrated to a position of trust for an over naïve Lordling or Lady Wife." Said Twin One in continuance of his brother's point.

"All true, but the facts of the situation are this: The defenses of Orlethrem are compromised. Our people are already recalled to the Sanctuaries and, unless there is some form of appeal to peace, war is certain, come the spring. No, with the attack on Heir Lumyt'seit, the murder of his friend, and the slaughter in Lagranel, it is already begun." Christ spoke grimly to the group.

Turning to Ulric, the young royal guard was more formal than his usual want, reflecting the severity of the situation.

"Ulric [Lord of the Ancient Glade] we are grateful to you for your siding with the Iriel'en in this. We are here to assist you in securing your hold, but what say you to a delay in our return? We may require a few days to discover the nature of the spies who have intruded upon Elven lands. This was not a part of our orders from Lord Iriel and you are not under obligation." His erstwhile training partner turned commanding officer requested.

For Ulric's part, this was a no-brainer. He was inclined to go after whoever was running around his woods anyway, better to do it with backup. It's dangerous to go alone, take this! He snarked to himself.

"If you didn't suggest it, I would. I won't know peace until I know who the hell we're dealing with. If they can get around in the Canopy, then they probably also know about the glade and this camp." Ulric said, grimacing at the thought.

"Look, by all I've been told and seen myself, there's things you guys call Greater beasts up there, it's fucking spooky dangerous for one guy doing everything he can to be invisible, let alone six and trying to cover ground. How about this, we've basically got here two teams of three between us. That's two of your Triads, yeah? We can go out in two teams doing wide crisscrosses as we patrol, we'll cover more ground and, maybe, force whoever is out there to either go extremely wide of us or, even better, get caught in a pincer." Ulric suggested, trying to drive home the hazard of the forest above the forest.

Christ thought it over for a moment.

"It is a sound strategy, Ulric. They may have scried the Forest of the Forgotten, but they will not be able to carry that advantage against us for long, none are greater than the Iriel'en at striding the wood." He promised, before laying out their plan.

"We will do this: Froka, Serlic, Nahl'ir, you will be one team. Serlic has been on duty longest as a Hunter, he will lead the Triad. I, Darla, and Ulric, with his Shadow, of course, will make up the other Triad. Geyrt, your talents as a Hunter are beyond question, will you have problems leading our Triad?"

"It will be my pleasure, Kryr'st." Geyrt said with a calm that belied her hawkish gaze.

Ulric was surprised for a moment at Christ's immediate willingness to defer his lead to another but realized that he shouldn't be. The Iriel'en soldiers were consummate professionals, the best man for the task got the job, there was no pride when business was at hand. So. Twin One, Santa, and Cleaver got one team, with Santa in charge. Ulric, Christ, and Twin Two got the other team and Geyrt would take charge. It was a plan then.

"Good enough for me." Ulric declared. "When do we go?"

Christ was on the fence. They had come to an agreement on the necessity of trying to pin down the enemy scouting force, at least so far as determining an identity for it, but none of that was going to get them any closer to returning to the Iriel'en fortress. He made an executive decision then, they would delay their hunt by a few hours to prep the sled for return to Irielhos and then the two scout parties would depart along the prescribed search pattern, crisscrossing the Canopy on their outward journey and back along the rolling floor of the great plateau's buried giants.

As it turned out, seven able bodies trivialized the packing. Many hands do, in fact, make for light work. Santa was a wizard for optimizing the load order and distribution. He was accustomed to breaking down beast kills in the wild and bringing them back in small sleds for the craftsmen. Under his guidance, the team managed to get the three-meter-long sled lined with even padding of wolf pelts. All of the spoils of the hunt would be coming. Only those being used as bedding were left behind.

Next came the bones and sinews of the same. Antlers from Bladefern Elk and Bolt deer, along with what tendons Ulric had preserved, filled in creating a rather morbid collage. Elk hide lay atop that to create another cushioned layer, from there packed cordage from Santa and Cleaver secured the hunted goods. Ulric's core collection came next, and required careful handling to preserve them from chipping, cracking, or other damage if things bounced around too much. The Elves handled that by packing cores interspersed with the preserved meat, to act as shock absorbers secured with another Elk hide so that it wouldn't shift too much in transit. On top of them were laid the straightest sections of Ulric's Steelwood harvest, the main trunks left where they lay for being too heavy to haul by manpower alone but many smaller segments being suitable for use in a host of applications, and with those, was laid the great scimitar collected from one of the marauders so long ago. Braced as these were against the sled frame, Ulric saw that the interior of the sled was, essentially, sealed and secured. Clever.

Of the fallen Ancient, not much could be transported, it was simply too massive. A few wrist-thick boughs were carefully arranged to create a levelish surface, padded by the last of his Bolt Deer hides laid overtop. The penultimate layer was composed of stacked bricks of glassresin, melted in a stone pot in the outdoor fire pit, and poured into a set of molds via a quick Stone Wall form until the sled pack reached waist height. The Elves found that application of magic to be particularly ingenious.

Atop these went the gathered herbs, flowers, roots, and mushrooms in their leather-holding bags. Those that were edible and those that were not. Ulric had gathered a great many samples in his wanderings, mostly out of curiosity and a need for edibles. His far more refined mana sense detected swirls of essence in these plants that were indicative of their relative potency, compared to the woods surrounding the plateau. Even those harvested over a month ago retained a strong vibrancy to their aura, despite Ulric's lack of competency in appropriate harvesting methods. Instructor Gother would probably have had fits if he saw the butchery Ulric had applied to these exceedingly rare and powerful reagents. His Elven escorts were most impressed at the haul of glade resources, Christ was certain many of them might be unique to the glade or, at least, of greater value than their more commonly available cousins.

Over the top of the now chest-high sled cargo went the remaining Forest Lord hide, used as a tarp to tie down the goods, transforming the sled into a streamlined, sleek vehicle holding what amounted to Ulric's worldly riches. The Glade giveth its bounty, Ulric thought, sparing a moment to thank his home for its sustenance. Not that the land was actually listening, he was pretty sure even this magical place wasn't that kind of magical, but it was a good mindset to have, remembering gratitude for the place that you made home.

By the time the work was done, it was barely midsunsrise, only a couple of hours having been needed to secure Ulric's admittedly meager possessions. Christ decided that a meal would not go amiss before they started out on their canvassing of the great forest. Ulric obliged, sans the death spice, and the parties broke camp with the twin suns rising just above the snowy roof that surrounded the glade.

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First came the climb. Ulric took them up via the same tree he'd descended with Brighteyes in tow, all that time ago. This area Ulric knew somewhat well, had patrolled on his hunts. How the beasts, Greater and Lesser, had ever gotten up to the canopy in the first place Ulric had no clue but chalked it up in the *shrugs* magic category. The climbing gear Ulric had thought he'd need for the descent down the plateau ended up not being wasted at all, they simply repurposed it for getting up the quarter kilometer, and then some, of craggy tree trunk that would take them into the lower reaches of the canopy. Using rope and piton was easier than free climbing and created a vertical "road" up to the canopy should he ever want to go up there and get eaten more efficiently.

From there, the groups diverged. Santa's party went due East, back along their original trek to reach Ulric's camp, and Geyrt led his own party along a North-Western direction. They moved with caution, as quietly as possible, feet crunching along in deposited snow that might hide a spectacular drop from the tree tops. The verticality and change of level possible in these twisted tree ways were mind boggling. It was a three-dimensional maze. Quickly, the party left Ulric's zone of familiarity, truly into the unknown. Geyrt took over completely then, on point, her bow dubbed Blinder nocked and ready.

Ulric was never so grateful for events that had conspired to put this huntress into his service. She moved like a hunting cat, agile and tireless. Frequently she would set the party to stay put and rove out for a brief circling, to take the lay of the tree-borne thickets and find the way forwards. At times she froze, halting the group with a raised hand. Inevitably her tuned senses proved precognitive, some creature or another would be heard rustling in the brush of lesser branches and associated parasitic bushes or even smaller trees, the titan trees were massive enough to support a secondary forest amongst their boughs. If nothing else could drive home the fact that he was well and truly on an alien world, the great canopy of the Plateau of Ancients would.

Of the sources of his Shadow's caution, they saw none, she led them well around any potential threats. It was the job of the rest of the party, able to travel with greater assurance of safety in their surroundings, to scan the terrain for any sign of traversal by their opposition. As the team followed Geyrt's lead Ulric couldn't help but think that there had to be an element of magical navigation associated with both their enemy and with their guide. His Shadow was able to navigate more quickly than simple visual acuity and hearing could prescribe.

Ulric had never scanned the Elf girl, which was probably something he should have put higher on his priority list, the better to know what tiger he had by the tail. Whatever hidden powers in her arsenal, they were brought to a halt in a copse of some birchlike lesser trees, growing on a steeply angled rising main branch some thirty meters wide that had, briefly, paused in its ascent to produce an almost level place to rest. The party of experienced soldiers was relieved, it had been a tense bit of hiking for these last few hours. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to find his way back, should they be separated, which was why he'd never explored far from his entry points to the canopy.

Shaking her head and breathing out heavily, Geyrt spoke the problem on all their minds as they had come to understand the vast challenge of roving the canopy.

"This place is nightmare given form. Everywhere live beasts that, normally, would want a triad of Hunters to deal with. It is as the worst of the Deep Wood." She said quietly to the group.

"In addition to the path under one's feet, there are ways above, paths stretching below and alongside all potentially paralleling or eventually crossing in ways impossible to foresee. Our enemy, if he is up here, will be almost impossible to find if they remain still." Twin Two despaired.

Christ nodded his agreement before addressing the other elephant in the room, "Already I think we may assume that our uninvited guests are being led by some form of scry. It would be madness to attempt this place with lesser skill than a most gifted Hunter. Those thorn-bearing vines, the ones that held that rotted ape skeleton, they were Bloodrot Thrones, toxic beyond belief and we have seen many of them with paths trampled through them by some creatures able to shed their piercing touch or to suppress their venom. Ulric, your canopy reeks of dangers in untold number."

Ulric gave him an "I told you so" look.

"What did I say? It wouldn't even have occurred to me that someone could just roam around up here until you mentioned magical assistance. There's a reason I didn't hunt the canopy very frequently, despite the volume of game." He offered.

"No sign, whatsoever, have we seen thus far." Spoke Twin Two grimly before continuing in the same resigned tone, "No sign do I expect to see for many a day either. We could travel these wood ways a dozen times and not use the same track. I am a warrior and not a Hunter, is it truly possible for us to locate our quarry in this vastness or do we shave frogs here?"

That question was addressed to Geyrt, who was pensive. The fact that she didn't immediately exclaim that she would successfully find the interlopers was worrying. A lack of confidence was not one of Geyrt Iriel's character flaws.

"…There…may…be an alternative." Said Ulric's Shadow with hesitation clear in her tone.

She glanced at Ulric, a sidelong look that sent the lizard living in Ulric's brain to ringing alarm bells.

"Glade Chief, you may not like this." She admitted.

"While you learned your fundamentals with my mothers, they were instructing me in particular…skills…associated with being in your service." The rapturous woman spoiled her face with a grimace.

Oh hell, Ulric thought, this can't be good.

"One of them is the use of your body matter to enact a tracking spell, should we ever be separated and I need to find you over great distance. It is a close cousin of the working upon the artifact that allowed me to detect Lumyt'seit's return to Iriel." Geyrt admitted.

Ulric didn't think that sounded too bad until his attention snapped back to the term "body matter".

"What kind of "body matter" are we talking about here?" He asked skeptically. A feeling in the pit of his stomach was squirming around.

The twitching of ears in his companions did not bode well for her answer.

"This spellform requires a firm link to its target to be initiated. To operate specifically on your person I require your hair, blood, spit, and….seed." Said his Shadow ear tips reddening as she avoided looking at him.

Fandamntastic. His magic teacher hosts were instructing her in how to track him through blood magic. He'd never be rid of the woman, she could follow him anywhere he ran. Unless he figured out a way to shed the spell. Antidetection magic was now far, far higher on Ulric's priorities.

Wait. Seed? Ulric looked over at her with suspicion.

"When you say seed, are you talking about what I think you're talking about? This isn't some kind of euphemism in Human for something else?" Ulric probed, frowning.

"It's not as if I invented this spellform! It is ages old and has been used to great effect for generations! I am no archmage crafting new magics from the aether, I must do what I know." Complained his Shadow loudly, clearly about as unhappy as himself.

Christ stepped in to relieve the "young" woman of her place under Ulric's scrutiny and shushed her gently, his eyes doing a scan of the hazardous surroundings thanks to the volume of the outburst. Twin Two briefly gave her an exasperated scowl before returning to his study of the area. Geyrt wilted slightly at the general disapproval but then took up her challenging expression as if daring someone to complain.

Which was mostly fair, she'd gotten them all this way, untouched, a feat no one else could have replicated as smoothly.

"Glade Chief, in this your Shadow is correct. Such magics are not unheard of in the Hunter circles, and they do require potent thaumaturgic links to their targets. Normally, the materials are harvested from a dead beast to achieve a general tracking spell. For a spell to target a certain individual they require tuning to the individual in question, hair, blood, and saliva are the least needed. To refine the link it requires something of a greater…intimacy…to the target. Semen from a male, moon blood from a female. The blood and placenta of newborn offspring can be used for either as well but you have none of these. Yet." explained his training buddy and Captain of their expedition.

That was a particularly detailed and oddly specific thing to know.

"Christ you never mentioned any sort of magecraft, how do you know this?" Ulric questioned.

Christ smiled a little, almost awkwardly glancing toward Geyrt.

"Forgiveness Shadow, but he has asked and it isn't truly a secret." He told her before continuing.

"Upon the disappearance of Heir Lumyt'seit, Lady Shor instructed all the royal guard in the same tracking spell of which your Shadow speaks, although she had the aid of a cutting from their family tree to finesse the working. Her highness also insisted on each guardsman casting this spell on each of the Lord Iriel's children, so as to prevent future attempts like those on the Heir. I can find your Shadow, if I focus on her being, even if she should cross the great Vatyn sea into the cold wastes." Christ explained apologetically.

Well, ok, Ulric had to admit that that made some degree of sense, invasive and paranoid and super creepy as it was.

"Alright, let's say I buy it, it's a little lot invasive and kinda squirrelly but I'll grant you that the Elves have done good magery so far as I've seen. How does this help us?" Uric inquired.

Geyrt tossed her braid over her shoulder, regaining her composure, before answering.

"It is as Kryr'st has already explained. We use the spellform as it is used to hunt beasts. This only requires the blood, hair, and saliva, not the other, I can use this to make a detection spell that will allow me to home in on nearby humans, any humans. It should allow us to, at least, close the distance between the invading group, to find a bearing as I lead us." Said his Shadow with her usual aplomb.

There were some qualifying statements in there Ulric was not entirely pleased with, especially since he was going to be the reagent for the spell.

"You don't sound as certain about this as I was hoping, Geyrt. Are you sure this isn't going to backfire and do something heinous to me on accident?" He asked.

"…."

"…."

Okay, it took her way too long to think about that, Ulric decided. Just as he was opening his mouth to vote "nay" she interjected.

"It will be fine, it will work! The worst case is that the spell only works to tell me you are standing next to me, there are no ill effects. This is a simple modification of the working, any imbecile could do it." Geyrt claimed.

That was worrying on its own merits. Any jack jaw running around could get a sample of tissues and track you? Unacceptable. But Ulric shelved his complaints, for now. They needed a way to find the assholes running around out here. Now that he'd traveled well outside his usual stomping grounds, he could plainly see just what a mind-boggling challenge it was to find anybody anywhere in this warren of deadly tree ways. The near physical need to remove the presence of trespassers from his territory was more worrying than the less than stellar picture Geyrt was painting.

"Alright." Ulric decided. "You can try the hunting spell and we will, hopefully, be able to at least get a bearing on our targets. Let's just hope they are moving in a group and they aren't all Beastkin or something. I have a feeling this spell won't have the ability to track any non-humans."

That was confirmed by a quick negative shake of the head from his fellow party members.

With resignation, Ulric gave the go-ahead.

"Let's do this then, we're deep in the bush and burning daylight."

Geyrt drew her belt knife and took a small lock of hair, just a pinch that removed a few broken strands from his braided ponytail, instructed him to stick out his tongue so that she could scrape the blade lightly across it, and then, without so much as a by your leave, pricked his forearm to draw a droplet of blood. She had her components in a matter of a few seconds and then retreated to crouch over her knife blade.

Unlike the spellcasting that Ulric was familiar with, this had more of the feeling of ritual magic. Less mana manipulation through the core via internal logic and careful manipulations and more of a formulaic, pre-canned approach. The "body matter" was mixed with some kind of dust from her belt, a blue silver powder that might have been a mana crystal ground fine. The resulting paste turned jet black, then shimmering aqua-marine with blood-red pulses.

Not concerning at all. No sir.

Several runes were then carved into a small plate of, was that Azure Cypress? bark and the paste smeared across the runes. Geyrt must have been doing something with her mana because the runes drank in the fluorescent, glowing paste, drawing it like ink moving into paper, filling the runes until none remained on the surface of the plate. The delicate features of his Shadow were screwed up with concentration and one of her hands was doing some sort of complex crabbing gesture over the plate that directly gave Ulric the heebie jeebies.

Whatever it was, the spell must have worked, the runes flashed brightly and the entire plate burned to powder, apparently without heat, since Geyrt's hand seemed completely unaffected. When it concluded, most of the intensity in her expression faded and she stood with eyes closed, like someone listening to music no one else could hear. Slowly she turned to face Ulric, eyes still closed. If this thing was working the way it was explained he should produce the strongest reaction since he was the source of the components for the link. Slowly, gently gnawing her bottom lip, as she tended to do when focusing, she turned a full circle. Then again. Eventually she opened those brilliant veridian orbs and dawn broke across her face as she smiled.

"The spell is working! It really…I mean…*cough* I can locate the general direction of the humans in the enemy force." Geyrt swiftly caught herself.

It would have helped her case if she didn't look like the cat that caught the canary. Smugness fairly radiated off her.

Ulric chose to ignore his Shadow's contradictory signaling and focus on the positives.

"How does it work? Can you tell how far away they are? Elevations?" He quizzed rapidly, without waiting for an answer.

"One thing at a time Ulric, you might make me lose it." Groused his Shadow.

After another brief closing of eyes, she seemed ready to make an assessment.

"The feeling is faint but definite. I cannot say how far with any certainty, I would have to train my senses to gauge the distances. It is a little like hearing a bird song in the distance. If you turn towards it, it grows louder. I think, perhaps, if we get closer, I might be able to better distinguish their exact position." She described.

Christ broke in then, with some excitement as well, "That is how the spell was described to me as well, she is successful Ulric. We no longer need guess, we can move much more quickly to close on them with direct heading."

It was just damn near voodoo. Like to like and all that arcane horseshit. Ulric was a little impressed, but the implications were also more than a little horrifying. Given the success of the spell, it begged the question he did not hesitate to ask.

"So…if this is so effective, why didn't we just start with this?"

Christ looked a little confused and then turned towards Geyrt. Twin Two's gaze likewise tilted towards his Shadow. Ulric turned to take her in as well. Under the adding pressure of their combined gaze his Shadow wilted slightly.

"What? I didn't know how absurd the Forest of the Forgotten would prove to be or that they have guiding magics to evade us. Besides, whatever cloaks them makes this spell useless if we were not almost on top of them already! Why is this now my fault?" She waffled under their continued blank stares.

Her ears began to twitch violently and Ulric's Shadow stomped her foot before putting her hands on her hips to berate them.

"You are the lot of you ungrateful, that is what you are! I should leave you all to find your ways back. This is your mission Kryr'st, you did not bother to ask! No one bothered to ask if I could use a [Hunter's Mark]." She flailed, before putting the final nail in her own coffin, "I did not even know it would work!"

Ulric only sighed and contemplated his future misadventures before he readjusted a few armor straps that didn't really need it. Christ and Twin Two shared a look before they began to shoulder their packs and make ready to move. No one said a word, excepting his Shadow, who continued to bitch in self-defense before trailing off.

Lapsing into silence, the group waited as wind whispered through the Steelwood sapling copse and a soft white reflected light off the snow that covered the canopy floor lit the place gently setting the world aglow.

The Amazon leading their group eventually wilted under their scrutiny.

"Alright." His Shadow admitted at last, "This is my mistake. I did not think of using the locator spell as a [Hunter's Mark]." She said, sheepishly.

That admission must have hurt physically.

There was a weakness to long life to be recognized here for Ulric, something to keep in mind when dealing with the races who could persist for centuries. Patterns. Habits. Tendencies of thought and deed worn into near instinct by their repetition could limit the expression of creativity or restrict the ability to adapt to novel situations, where those same habits would have been exceedingly valuable under familiar circumstances. Geyrt had not, apparently, put much stock into the more arcane aspects of her craft, relying instead on a different skill set. Even though she'd been versed in their application, she hadn't thought to incorporate or adapt those arcane skills to a different use, beyond that of her direct instruction. A terribly competent expert in her domain could be rendered almost pitiful by the advent of a situation too far outside her experience.

Ulric lightly clapped his hands, as he had seen Bald'rt do on occasion when a hard transition was necessary and there seemed no way to make it happen but through force of will. Loudly enough, to get the group's attention, but softly enough to, hopefully, draw no unwanted attention from outside the little stand their group huddled in.

"Well, I, for one, am glad we've got this sorted out. Can you reestablish this link later?"

The former Hunter gave a long blink of her almond-shaped eyes before her features firmed and she nodded her affirmative.

"Alright then, it's well past midday and we've already figured out that we shouldn't fuck around too close to dark. Let's get back to camp in one piece. We'll reconvene with the other group there and game plan for tomorrow if that sounds like a reasonable course of action to you all." Ulric said, with as carefully positive a tone as possible.

Too cheerful and they'd know he was bullshitting. Too honest, and his Shadow would begin to suspect he meant to bury her in the woods somewhere. Gotta toe that line sometimes, he thought to himself.

Christ gestured in the affirmative, "It will be good to get out of this place, a creeping feeling of badness weighs on me. There are far too many fell creatures in the crowns of the Ancient's seedlings."

Given an out, Geyrt seemed relieved to lead them back out into the wilds where gods knew what kind of ravening monsters awaited. The silence heaviness of the air seemed ever so slightly mocking to Ulric's mind.

The party ventured back along their own trail, invisible as it was, at least for Ulric's senses. They had disturbed little vegetation, and the hard-packed snow, which showed signs of melting and refreezing into a dense sheet, was almost unaltered by the light passage of their measured steps.

The cold air was somewhat muted up here, despite the altitude. Ulric was sure it was thanks to the insulative properties of the snow, trapping what little heat was available within the almost tunnels of the canopy roads. The reflected light within these paths was a far cry from the ever-dim plateau below. Ulric kept his eyes scanning the snow below his footing and off to the canopy forest to his left, trusting Christ to be doing the same reconnaissance to his right. In the rear, Twin Two kept the rear guard. Geyrt, was keeping the point and directing the party.

Something ticked in Ulric's brain causing him to stop. Geyrt's hand rose a fraction of a second later but before either of them could give outcry the snow-laden brush exploded around the troop, crystalline powder shrouding the waste high forms that burst forth, all snarls and teeth.

The first of the creatures jumped Twin Two, having angled the attack mostly from behind the group. Three of them charged the elf faster than anyone would have expected of what looked like wolf sized weasels, mottled white and tan fur having hidden them in the snow shadows of their surroundings.

Decades of experience saved the warrior's life, his spear turning to line up with the lead beast by sheer muscle memory, skewering the creature through and through. Barely a sound did it make as it died, but its weight and mass pulled the spear from Twin Two's grasp, nearly driving the butt into his crotch, forcing him to turn awkwardly. The second beast, a few steps behind the first, leapt to latch on to Twin Two's arm at the elbow while the third a bare moment later grabbed the opposite leg and both thrashed back and forth viciously, razored sawing teeth trying to rend flesh from bone. Only the sturdy armor and physical robustness of the warrior saved the limbs from being severed immediately.

Yelling under the assault, he managed to get his knife free and start hammering it into the back of the beast that attacked his arm.

Geyrt saved Twin Two from being toppled, her arrow whistling past Ulric's ear to bury itself to the fletches in the Polar Weasel savaging his leg, striking the neck just above powerful shoulders. The glassresin broadhead did terrible work to the beast's innards and it yowled, falling to the snow below snapping at the buried shaft, rolling violently before stilling.

Simultaneously, two more of the creatures rushed Ulric, clawing free of the brush a mere four meters away, and he heard more coming from Christ's flank, but couldn't spare the attention to know anything other than that they were in deep shit.

Far less practiced, less intuitive with his weapon, Ulric only managed to line the long-ago captured trident he carried with the leading creature well enough to achieve a glancing strike of one tine across its shoulder.

It was too fast. He was too incapable.

It ignored the wound, dark red blood pulsing out of the torn flesh, and its oncoming body pushed his spear shaft out of alignment and completely out of usefulness. Claws and teeth raked across the hard bone plates of his cuirass, producing a horrible screeching grating sound that just added to the adrenaline shiver already racing up his spine, as they tried to open his stomach.

Christ yelled out, some Elvish curse. Ulric couldn't see, the second beast jumped, mouth wide, its maw of jagged teeth diving to take his throat.

Using the metal shaft as a barrier. he caught the leaping creature across its snout and neck, absorbing its momentum, and blocking the one below from finding an easy attack angle, grinding the metal butt into the ground, even as his feet slipped, betrayed by the snow beneath and the fury of the attacking creatures. His roaring cry, infused with the wrath that simmered coming awake fully, joined the soundscape of the battle and Ulric fell to the ground, the world narrowing down to the two creatures snapping and biting about him. The soft crystalline light hardened, and the gentle curves and shadows of branches, snow drifts, and tree trunks took on sharp edges as his vision tracked his fall. Distantly he thought he heard his Shadow crying out, her bow coming to ready.

No time.

His back hit the snowpack with the Polar Weasel on top of him and he felt its partner clamp down on his greaves, the bone plate grinding against its teeth and sharp teeth painfully gouging into his calf, but unable to deeply penetrate the absurdly strong Forest Lord hide. He couldn't do anything about the one on his leg, the animal on top of him was trying to get past his spear to rip into his face and getting closer to achieving that than Ulric in his oddly detached mental space was comfortable with.

[Warrior's Instinct], yet again, saved his life, the manifestation of calm within the storm of violence around him turning from frenzied chaos into an almost serene clarity. Ulric had to kill the one on top of him or have his face bitten off. The long, metal trident was delaying the inevitable but preventing him from leveraging an advantage, pinned between the creature and his body as it was. Once again, the three-meter length of the weapon proved a disadvantage for him, absent the skill to wield it properly and utilize its range. A problem to solve another day, if there was one.

Ulric shoved hard on the haft of the trident, pushing the heavy animal away before releasing the handle and grabbing the beast's thick pelt and an ear in his gauntleted hands. Ignoring the attempts to savage his leg, he adjusted his grip on the struggling monster on top of him, driving his armored forearm up under its muzzle while the painful grip on its ear kept it from completing the lunges at his exposed neck. Muscles bursting with adrenaline-fueled strength he turned the beast's head away from his body, his free leg finally found purchase on the snow beneath and he twisted his entire body, rotating the foul creature's head around while screaming wordless rage.

The bones of its spine gave suddenly and it yowled, abruptly cut off, as its head turned free, nerves suddenly severed. The monster's weight sprawled down on him, limp form draping loosely across his chest. The worrying at his leg abruptly stopped but he could see nothing beyond the pelt of the gods be damned monster on top of him and he threw it off him as he rose to his knees, preparing to catch the other one rushing for his head.

The sight in front of him showed the creature that had been attacking his legs dead, three arrows buried in its chest and neck.

Geyrt's work then. Ulric couldn't spare a moment though, behind the arm that was still raised from her draw, fingers pressed to lips where she'd released her arrow, was the form of a Polar Weasel crouched to leap at her exposed back.

"Behind!" Ulric screamed his hand raising even as the monster's gathered spring unfolded, slamming into her light form, the pair of them crashing to the ground.

Ulric's core surged, brought to life as his will pulled mana into form, the boiling fervor of Incendere giving way under his command. Flame swirled into dense shards of pure heat, three radiant jewels that erupted forth.

[Cinderpearl]

Streaking flames buried themselves in the creature that was darting forward to bite into his Shadow's head. The shimmering trails of superheated air hinted at the energy carried but the devastation unleashed on the Polar Weasel revealed the spell form's nature. Jewels of flame were so hot that blood and tissue flashed to vapor, even as they created explosive pressure, detonating forcefully. The monster came apart under the power of the three brilliant shards of solid fire that erupted inside it. Where there had been a monster before now there was a set of legs and bits of smoking flesh that spattered the canopy.

Geyrt Iriel lay unharmed, other than her ungraceful sprawl from the force of the tackle. As she proved, when she bounced to her feet, cursing violently, and drew an arrow nearly faster than Ulric could follow. The woman was much stronger than she looked, pulling that mighty bow to its full draw in an instant. However, there was nothing to give the gift of her ire. The forest had returned to its crystalline peace, their assailants, a pack of nine Polar Weasels were all dead.

From the moment it started to this one couldn't have been more than half a minute. Ulric was still juiced up, body shivering from the adrenaline dump, ready to fight and kill until he realized that the threat was gone. It required a dedicated effort to bring himself down, which exercise of will was mirrored by the others as he saw them each leave the combat rush behind. With deep even breaths, the world of too-hard edges and sharp colors faded back to its soft features.

Their sole casualty was Twin Two, having taken the brunt of the ambush. He lay on the ground bleeding heavily from ripped limbs. Christ had killed three of the beasts without taking a wound, his status as the youngest of the royal guard well earned, each of the monsters was killed with razor lines across throats and clean stabs that drove cleanly through bodies to find hearts. Christ was already crouched over their wounded comrade, applying tourniquets to the limbs and applying salves to the deep rents in Twin Two's flesh. His left arm and right leg were in bad shape, the sharp teeth of those monsters left hideous wounds, once they'd torn through the leather armor.

Ulric looked down at his wickedly bruised leg, which had been subjected to the same sort of mauling as Twin Two's, and gave thanks to the Forest Lord; without that great mad beast's hide, he would have suffered the same fate. The warrior wasn't going to be walking anywhere, anytime soon. Unless the Elves had better medical care than he was aware of, which, to their credit, was likely, Twin Two would have a good chance of losing that leg, it was a disaster. Ulric and Geyrt approached the fallen Elf, keeping their distance so as not to crowd Christ in his efforts.

"What can we do to help you Christ?" Ulric ventured cautiously, not wanting to distract the man's work but also wanting to be useful if there was some way to contribute.

A quick shake of his head and a brusque "Keep watch and make ready to travel swiftly." was all the captain of their party could offer.

Twin Two took it like a champ, the brave soldier not even grunting when his bleeding flesh was salved and bandaged, even though it must have hurt excruciatingly. His pallor betrayed the anguish but the Elf refused to worsen their position by crying out, which might have drawn the attention of more monsters, already no doubt a risk from the sounds of the fight. In a few minutes, Christ had done all that might be done here in the wilds. He left Twin Two to recover from the treatment and approached Ulric and Geyrt.

"He needs a healer, maybe a team of healers. Their spellwork will be the only thing that saves the leg and probably the arm too. We must get Darla back to camp and transport him to Irielhos, as soon as possible. I am sorry, Glade Chief, but life is in jeopardy we cannot wait to escort your belongings." Said the diligent young warrior in a hushed whisper.

"Hell with my stuff! It'll sit there as long as it needs to. Let's get our guy home and safe." Exclaimed Ulric, trying and failing to stay calm.

There was a lot of blood in that clearing. A bunch of it was Twin Two's. As if triggered by that thought, Twin Two's head fell back and he was unconscious.

"Heartwood preserve us!" Christ exclaimed, going to check on the injured elf. "We must be gone from here. Ulric, you must carry him. No offense intended, Glade Chief, but I and your Shadow are of more value in scouting the way. Also, you can fight without your weapons, your spells might be necessary to destroy some of these Lesser beasts before they can close with us, as they did against that creature that attacked your Shadow." Christ said, voice raising despite his attempts to stay calm.

Ulric didn't say anything but went to fireman carry Twin Two, standing easily with the elf's weight on his shoulders.

"We ready?" he asked. At the nods of his Shadow and Christ they left the corpses where they lie and made haste.

Geyrt must have blamed herself somewhat for the ambush, unreasonable as that was, the monsters were in their home turf and were indistinguishable from the surroundings while they lay in ambush. She pushed a hard pace for herself, roving forward and doubling back to lead the way.

Ulric was never so grateful for the horseshit stats he carried. There was no way he could have carried the wounded warrior otherwise through this winding terrain, slick with snow, at an ironman pace. Christ kept his sword, a meter-long bladed oversized estoc, at hand. The large thrusting blade had nevertheless startlingly sharp edges and his grim features made it clear he meant to use them if anything came screaming out of the brush to assault the group.

For his own part, Ulric couldn't help but question his responses, his lack of experience. Two fucking weasels? That's nearly all it had taken to punch his ticket. And, worse, he'd been so slow about dealing with them Geyrt had had to pull his biscuits out of the oven and almost got her head bitten off for the trouble, even though she probably would have handled it untouched if not for having to worry about him.

He could have used lightning on the one that jumped him.

Hell, he could have used [Voltaic Riot] to shred both of them, the destructive power of a souped up arc welder wasn't to be underestimated. Or [Windscythes], which he could have used to kill both of the shaggy monsters yoweling for his blood, and also could have looped around Geyrt to take the one behind her, all at once, now that he could guide the six or seven Caelum blades along wires of wind magic.

Stupid. Slow. Bad.

Over and over he played the attack, trying to ingrain it into him.

Grimly, he shook off the negative thoughts. Later, he'd punish himself later. For now, keep your damned head on a swivel and try not to fuck up any harder, Ulric scolded, and put his eyes to work doing that while he carried the wounded Elf.

Once, his Shadow came back from one of her forward advances splashed in fresh blood, some creature that bled blue, apparently, but said nothing about it. She'd only shrugged at Ulric's inquisitive raise of eyebrows. Well, if it wasn't a problem, then it wasn't a problem.

Radiance faded from the ethereal forest upon a forest as the party worked their way back to camp. Twin Two woke up briefly and apologized to Ulric for burdening the expedition to which Ulric told him to shut up and try to bleed less. The tough man smiled briefly through his pain, but the jarring and blood loss sent him back unconscious soon enough.

Ulric was doing his best to avoid that, to little real success. The terrain made it impossible to carry a man smoothly, too much brush, too many changes in level, too unsteady a footing. Still, other than a flash of motion that drew an arrow from Geyrt like a magnet draws iron filings, a fading screech of mortal injury that faded into the distance, they met no other resistance. The climb down to the plateau floor was easier than the ascent, Ulric's driven stakes and the tie-off ropes proving invaluable to getting the injured elf down with a minimum of banging around.

They made camp with an hour of daylight left. Christ immediately relieved Ulric of the wounded warrior and set Geyrt to help him make a litter while Ulric went to get a fire going and boil water. These tasks had been accomplished about the time that the second party made their way back to camp. They had fared even worse than Ulric's group.

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