A Walk in the Woods

Sam pulled the strap tight on her leather-bound volume and stood, admiring her work. On the ground before her were tendrils of green light spreading from the site of an incantation. She rounded up her supplies, dropping them into their assigned spots of a wooden kit and began to walk back through a wooded path.

Sam is a Ritualist, one who specifically surveys and maintains the wilderness surrounding the town of Shoehorn. The countryside was dying. A thick veil obscured the sun and left the life of the world desperately searching for energy.

As she walked down the path, sprouting seedlings and thin, stringy grass were reaching up towards the heavens. She looked past them towards the dead trees that littered the forest, which used to be so lush.

~

The ritualist before her disappeared, probably got lost and died out here. His name was Tim. He wasn’t a particularly sociable person, so the first sign he wasn’t performing his duties was when the leaves fell off the trees in mid-summer. By the time they could send someone out to replace him, all the flora was dead, or soon would be, and the fauna was evacuating the area to find a way to sustain themselves.

It was decided to be too late in the season for a successful regrowth attempt, so the town of evergreen was evacuated, and places were found for them in the nearby city of Mosel, where the lord Dion was made responsible for their care until the land could be revived. Sam was assigned to the area and started the growth rituals late that winter.

~

“What a mess”, Sam sighed, and ran her hands along a seedling on the side of the path. She cupped her hand behind the finger-like shoots of a leaf sprouting from the little tree. “At least you’re doing well.”

It had been long enough that the growing rituals were starting to take hold, which meant it was time for Sam to take a walk around the perimeter. So, she packed up her things and followed the trail back to Shoehorn.

She glimpsed up through the leafless canopy and saw that the ritual was beginning to clear the gray haze above. A disc of blue was emanating from the center, allowing rays of sun to pour down and illuminate the forest.

After walking for a while, the trees around her parted and she found herself gazing at seemingly endless cultivated fields. Some of which were being maintained by eager farmers hoping to return this year, putting faith in the ritualist's work, and foreseeing a successful yield this fall.

But many others didn't share this faith, instead choosing to stay under the care of lord Dion, planning to return when the prospects of harvest would be based on evidence rather than hope. This left many fields empty except budding grass and clovers.

Eventually the field and farmhouses condensed to smaller town homes, and the dirt road Sam had been traversing became a path of cobbled brick. Shoehorn was a ghost town. Houses were empty, some boarded up in an attempt to deter criminals seeking an easy score.

Sam approached the largest building in the town. It was three stories high, constructed of red brick and black stone shingles. Hanging from a square post sticking out the side of the wall, was a sign that read simply ‘Inn’. It swayed proudly from side to side.

“Hey Mo,” said Sam as she let the door swing shut behind her.

“Hey Sam, how’s it going out there? Anything interesting?” said Mo.

“Nothing too exciting, but I think the rituals are taking hold decently. Lots of stuff coming up from the dirt.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too,” he gestured towards the windowsill where a sprout was poking its way out of the soil in a small pot. “So, what can I get you to drink?” he said as he motioned toward the taps behind the bar.

“Actually, I’ve just come to drop off my supplies and get my overnight bag, I’ve got to do a walk around the perimeter to make sure everything’s going well around the edges.”

Sam walked upstairs and into her room and began rummaging around. She picked out a couple things from around her room and neatly stacked them into her bag: a change of clothes, a small carving knife, her ritual book, and a few common reagents and pieces of equipment. She also picked up a small cardstock box with a decorative seal that read “Peter’s Protections” pressed onto it. Finally, she threw in a couple wrapped bread rolls, an apple, a couple pieces of smoked jerky and a change of clothes.

She threw the bag over her shoulder and ran down the stairs. “See you tomorrow then Mo!”

“You be careful out there!” He called out from behind the bar, as the front door was already swinging shut behind her.

~

Leaves were gently swaying, and birds were chirping… How strange. Sam had her hand placed on the bark of a great oak she was staring up into. Shaking her head, Sam got out her map for the fourth time in what should have been a straightforward excursion. Whispering to herself and tracing her finger across the boundary lines she was meant to be following, the map told her the same thing it told her the last three times…

“What the heck? Who made this thing?” Her eyes went to the bottom of the map where the name ‘Jameson’ was printed there in cursive script. “Last time I buy a map from that guy.” she sighed, as if she had any real say in the matter.

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Sam was having more and more difficulty pushing her way through the trees. Something wasn’t right. She had assumed that she was wandering into some other ritualists’ covered region. That might explain why the landscape looked more mature than it was, but even then, it was more overgrown than she would have expected for this time in the season.

It was also warm. The mild afternoon was becoming a balmy evening. Sam shoved the map into her bag without shutting the clasps, knowing she’d be digging it out again soon anyways, freeing both hands to shove past ever-denser branches. She pushed on, determined to find out where all the energy was coming from.

Soon she found herself traversing rockier terrain, which would have been making progress easier, if it weren’t for the changes in elevation. She pushed her way through another tangle of branches when suddenly, there was no more ground underneath her feet. She had taken a step out into open air. A burst of nausea came over her as she desperately reached for the branches behind her that had been a nuisance just moments before.

Her right hand was able to get a purchase on a small branch. She squeezed, and her grip peeled leaves off as her hand slipped a few inches downward. But it held, and she was able to grab a more secure branch with her right hand and find a foothold on the stone rock face she nearly had fell down.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. “Breathe, just breathe, you’re okay.” She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. Her heart was pounding hard in her ears. After a few more moments, she opened her eyes and carefully selected her next holds and pulled herself up. Holding on tight to an adjacent tree, Sam carefully placed her feet before looking at the drop she nearly fell into.

The forest behind her had suddenly given way to a stone face covered in ivy. It was a sheer drop almost 4 stories tall. At the bottom was a small clearing, surrounded by more green homogenous forest. Sam stared down at the rocky earth below her, which looked particularly unforgiving, and her breathing began to become irregular again.

At the edge of the clearing, something red caught her eye. “Ugh, you have got to be kidding me.” Sam groaned as she recognized what she was looking at. There was no mistaking the red seal imprinted on the front of her leather bound ritual book. She glanced back at her bag remembering the clasps she’d neglected to close. Sam checked around her feet to make sure nothing else had fallen out before securing the clasps on her bag and looking for a way down. To her relief, only a few yards away from the rock face was a more wooded decline that looked like it had sufficient holds to carefully climb down. She climbed down to the valley below.

Sam opened the clasps on her bag and tried to shove the ritual book inside. But after the first few inches, it wouldn't go any further. She set her bag on the ground and stuck her hand inside to clear the clutter. Her hand touched leather, and then... she pulled out her ritual book.

Dumbfounded, she stood there with one book in each hand. She pushed her own copy back into her bag and opened the other to the first page.

Property of Timothy Swain.

Sam gasped. "Tim..." As far as Sam knew, no searches were ever successful in finding Tim or any of his belongings. Sam gazed up and around at the well grown foliage, and then down at the spot where Tim’s book had lain. Any ritualist worth their salt should have found this. These woods were well overgrown, but the book was pristinely laying on the ground due to a rugged protection charm. Someone should have found this.

Sam's suspicions turned morbid. If their search had been poor enough to miss this, what else could be out here? She glanced around for any other signs of Tim but didn't see anything obvious.

Sam opened Tim's ritual book to a page on location sigils. Suddenly a bit more concerned about finding her own way out of this mess. She copied the sigil from her book onto a piece of paper and said a few activating words before placing the gently glowing paper in between the leaves of the ritual book, before carefully placing it back where she'd found it. She took a long, deep breath.

"Okay. OK. Core probably sent someone out here for Tim, except they cheaped out again, typical. Probably not even a ritualist. Now I find this damned book? I have to see what else I can find."

Sam took the bread roll out of her bag and took a bite out of it. She closed her eyes and let her nerves settle for a moment, before setting off into the woods, being sure to activate a Peter's Protections falling protection charm.

~

Sams eyes swept over the ground for any other trace of Tim's equipment but hadn't seen anything since she'd found his ritual book lying on the ground. If there had been any trace of him, she suspected that the forest had grown to conceal it. She paused for a moment to consider her options for finding him, but quickly determined she would just need to cover as much ground as possible. So, she pulled out her locator to ensure she was taking an efficient route and continued onward.

Sam had been searching the area for about twenty minutes before she began to see signs that someone had been through the area. There were some broken branches along a disturbance in the brush that followed a path to the right and to the left in front of her. She didn't let her hopes up, it had been a long time since Tim had been seen, so this fresh indication of life almost certainly belonged to wildlife in the area. But curiosity took hold, and she decided to walk up the path to the left. It was a bit easier to traverse anyways.

Sam heard out in front of her soft rustling, a trip, and a soft “Ouch”. A hiker out here? As far as she knew this patch of forest wasn’t even known to Core, the management company she worked for, let alone any leisure travelers.

"Hello?" Sam called out as she pushed forward and took in the scene in front of her.

There was a young man sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, leaning over to care for his shin, which was bleeding slightly. His hair was draped down to obscure his face, and he appeared to be shirtless. "You really shouldn't be..." Sam started, before the young man looked up surprised, revealing that it wasn't only his shirt he was missing.

"Where the hell are your clothes?!" Sam exclaimed while throwing up her hands to block her face.

"Oh! thank goodness." the man said innocently and returned to nursing his wound. "I've been wandering around for ages, and I can't seem to find anybody!"

"Do you have any clothes?"

"Uhh no." he said quickly. "Do you think you could help me if it's not too much of a bother? I've been out here all day and I'm hungry, and I think I may be walking in circles."

Sam took a chance and peered over her hand, and noticed how roughed up this boy was. His brows were pushed together concerned, and he looked genuinely confused and a bit upset.

"Of course," Sam said as she dug through her bag and pulled out a pair of pants from her spare clothes and walked them over to the tree the boy was sitting on. "Put these on, and then I'll take a look at your shin there." When he had them on, she turned back around with a bandage in her hand, as well as a small vial of alcohol. She knelt down and pulled the pant leg up over his shin.

"So, what's your name? And how did you end up wandering all the way out here without anything on?"

"I... have no idea, I don't remember." He said with an increasingly concerned tone in his voice. He paused for a minute, and then said "Sol. my name is Sol.”