Choice 1. Investigate the forest?

A thought that should have terrified him, but instead it was worry over not knowing what was out there that pricked at him like a needle. Perhaps more knowledge was required before he could make a serious judgement on what to do next, but he seriously doubted it.

Still with a heavy plodding gait, he started down towards the trees, when Serela spoke up from behind him. "Where are you going?"

Head swinging back to look at her with a wolfish grin, he replied, "there is something I need to see." Although what? He had no idea. In the shape those legionaries were in, they wouldn't do much talking anytime soon, so he would need to learn on his own what had happened to them.

Back straightening as he left her behind watching him, he could feel himself becoming more alive, more like his old self without all those odd attachments. The long green grass that folded underneath his footsteps, soft from early morning mildew as he drew closer to the trees. Most of which was faewood, a kind of elder tree that sprouted up high into the sky with a thick round base, perfect for elven homes. The lush greenery around him, dotted by sprinkles of colourful mushrooms, wildflowers, and a couple of pixies that flew through the air rapidly. The creatures so far avoiding him as he stepped inside the confines of the shadowy forest, and felt a chill pass through his spine. Something was wrong here.

Ears peeled for the slightest sound of movement, he quickly moved deeper into the thick tangle of tree roots that snaked across his path. The woods dark and gloomy, and eerily quiet as though it were holding its breath, except for the noise he himself made as he tried to avoid the leaves. A tricky bit of business, considering he was in a forest, but he could at least try to avoid the withered brown leaves that cracked and crumbled apart at contact.

Longsword flowing into his hand, he could feel a kind of tension in the air, when he spotted something flickering in the trees ahead of him, and lay down flat on his belly. The sound of other footfalls so soft that he thought it was his imagination, when he heard it again.

(Wriggle closer.)

With no way to really learn anything of use just lying there on his belly, he crawled forward on his hands and knees. The pixies that saw him, floating down to stare at him with those big watery black eyes, when he rolled over into the cover of a broad tree trunk, and peeked his head out.

His first thought was that he was truly damned as he saw an army of goblins silently creeping through the trees, spears and bows strapped to their scrawny green hides, and bodies painted with strange white symbols that marked each of the different tribes.

Counting at least two hundred of the yellow-eyed bastards, he thought he could make out more of the shadowy figures in the background, as well as the shape of dark-robed mages, and undead orcs. The familiar creatures sending a shiver down his spine as he recalled those dead white eyes that saw nothing.

Breath coming in a little faster, he thought about leaving and taking what he had found back to Thoradar, when he saw a thin stream of light hit the treetops. Almost like a lamp going out.

+2 Morale.

(Wait.)

The strange sight was so odd that it forced Gregor to stay and watch a little longer as the goblins moved through the dry underbrush, yellow eyes glowing in the darkness, while ogrekans in their heavy plate armour growled with annoyance at branches that got in their way. The eight feet tall, hulking monstrosities of grey flesh, almost as terrifying as giants in battle, as Gregor tried to steady his breathing.

The part of him that urged him to leave, warring with his curiosity to learn more about what they were doing here, which should have been obvious, even to the blind. But as his old teacher would once say, "blood is the price that must be paid for anything of real value," and so he stayed a little longer.

Scanning the canopy above as though hoping to see something else, he felt fingers cover his mouth, and a voice hiss in his ear, "keep quiet, " before he was yanked up into the air.

Gregor's yelp of surprise choked back by his own growing horror as branches whipped past him, taking him straight up, where he was abruptly tossed forward. The terrifying image of him suddenly plummeting to his death, ended when he slammed into something hard, and felt the wind knocked right out of him.

Cautious as he tried hard not to puke up his insides, he gazed up and saw that he was on a wooden platform built into one of the elder trees.

Trying hard not to look down as he felt his stomach flop about, he tried to think of something pleasant like the taste of roasted goblin feet or the way hobs squealed when he chased after them in the woods, when he was kicked in the backside.

Growling and muttering underneath his breath about the indignity of being hauled about like a sack of wheat, he leapt to his feet, spinning about ready to give whoever it was a taste of his steel. Then stopped dead, and stared at the most beautiful creature in the world with soft brown eyes, a delicate chin, and long jet black hair that streamed down tanned shoulders that were covered up by leather straps. Her face, the very picture of haughty disgust as she kicked him again, and pursed her red lips. "I found him skulking in the forest below, father. I do not think he is one of them, but he smells different. Wrong."

Head half turning in a daze as he realized he was not alone up here, he found himself confronted by half a dozen elven archers, in the same leather brown armour that melded with the trees, bows aimed towards him. The leader of their small party, a tall elven man with a weather-beaten face, and the hard look of a warrior that had faced troubled times.

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Grey steel eyes meeting his, the man spoke with a lilting tongue that seemed a touch too slow and melodic. "Why are you here, outlander? We do not welcome your kind."

Still shocked to find elves here of all places, Gregor gazed around him in open-mouthed awe, and saw that the trees were filled with hundreds of eyes, families peering out at him from doorways, wooden walkways, and staircases that were carved in intricate balance with nature. Everything created in such a way as to emphasize the beauty of the leaves, vines, and flowers that became a part of everything around them. It would have been breathtaking if not for the fact that he had trouble looking down without the entire world spinning beneath him.

Bloody elves and their blasted trees, why couldn't they build homes on the ground like dwarves, minotaurs, and other intelligent races.

Hand reflexively moving for the hilt of his sword, he felt a brief moment of surprise, when he found nothing. The elven woman that had pulled him up somehow, smirking at him as she pushed past, and held the longsword out to her father. "I think he was looking for this, father."

Smiling warmly as he took the weapon from her, the stern-faced elf looked over the long piece of steel with amusement. "Human forged, I had thought your kind knew better than to walk into danger so poorly equipped. You could have been slain coming here."

(Threaten.)

Edging his voice with a hint of danger, Gregor replied, "well, it's been good enough to kill more than enough of you, puke drinking worms."

His first words causing more than a few to stir with anger, eyes flashing, before the elven leader, lord, or whatever he was, waved his arm down. "You are being rude, but then I've come to expect that from your kind. Why are you here, redling?"

(Bluster.)

Shrugging his shoulders casually, Gregor replied, "It’s been good enough to help me kill a dragon or two."

His first words causing more than a few to shake their heads in disbelief, but as for their elven leader, lord, or whatever he was, he simply smiled again. "A mighty boast, but a lie I think, now tell me why are you here?"

+1 Morale.

(Speak of the metal.)

Sick of the way they were looking down at him, he snapped back, "it's not the metal that matters, but the man who wields it, and I have the scars to prove that I am better."

His first words causing more than a few to snicker behind open palms, but as for their elven leader, lord, or whatever he was, he simply smiled again. "Truly spoken, now will you tell me why you are here?"

+1 Morale.

Head shaking with dizziness as he accidentally looked back down again, he replied, "knowledge," and this time it was the she-elf who looked at him in surprise. Her perfect lips parted open as though to ask him a question, but Gregor had no time for her elfish nonsense. "There is a camp not too far from here that could use your help. You know the threat we face and we would be better off fighting it together."

But the elven warrior shook his head before the words even left Gregor's mouth, "no," his voice as harsh and immutable as the stone.

Cold grey eyes meeting his own in a contest of wills, Gregor thought about arguing further, but he had wasted enough time here as it was. Even now those forces below would be advancing on an unprepared camp.

Lips twisted into a sneer, he spat out, "fine! Then send me back down." To which the elf responded with a sad nod of his head, and handed him his longsword.

Back stiff as he waited there with all those eyes watching him, Gregor couldn't help but wonder why they had even bothered to bring him up here if they meant to do nothing, when the female elf glided over towards him. Her soft whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. "Father, fears the dark ones, and he is right to do so, but we cannot stand by, while they attack our friends and neighbours."

Eyebrows lifted up as he stared at her in surprise, he looked over towards her father and saw him talking to another elf, before whispering back, "then why not fight with us?"

Hand moving to caress his cheek, he felt his face go red as she smiled at him. "Sometimes I forget how short-lived your race is. You are right, we should do something, but for now you must leave.” Her words sending a flutter through his stomach, which of course caused angry violet eyes to flash at the back of his mind, before the woman pressed a finger to his forehead. Gregor somehow ending up outside of his tent, hearing the rumble of thunder in the sky, and knowing he was in for a world of pain.

Move onto the next Scenario.

(Leave.)

But despite his curiosity to learn more, he forced himself to leave. He would need to bring news of this to Thoradar immediately, and quickly crawled back over the leaves, scrambled up to his feet, and ran, and didn't stop running until he was back up the hill, and in front of Thoradar who looked up at him with bleary red eyes. "What is it you want, mercenary?"

Explaining everything in a single breathless rush, the dwarf let out a heavy sigh and reclined back in his seat. “Ahh well, there’s not much we can do about that now.”

Eyebrows flying upwards in confusion, Gregor could feel the familiar white-hot rage simmer inside of him, when the dwarf continued, “we are surrounded, lad. All we can do now is fight and pray.”

Head shaking as he stumbled away, Gregor felt too numb to understand what had just happened, when he heard the first rumble of thunder in the sky, and began to run. A part of him knowing he was in for a world of pain as he searched for his tent.

Move onto the next Scenario.

(Stay where you were.)

But despite his curiosity to learn more, he stayed where he was, his heart beating loudly as he ignored everything else around him, and thought he caught the faint sound of voices. Guttural, harsh, and definitely non-human.

But other than that, he couldn’t understand a word that was being spoken, and after awhile he retreated back out of the forest. Thought about seeking out Thorader, changed his mind, and headed for his tent as the first rumble of thunder in the sky, caused him to hurry. A part of him knowing he was in for a world of pain.

Move onto the next Scenario.