Though the trees were densely packed for their size, the gaps between the massive redwoods still left space for the Wyvern when its wings were tucked. Commander Bridge sprinted and leapt through the woods at inhuman speeds, somewhere behind him were whatever subordinates had kept up this far. He followed a trail of blood, smashed bark and broken branches. The Wyvern was stumbling, barreling through the woods blindly. The blood smelled rancid, and was discolored with trails of black like slightly mixed paint. The afflictions were working.
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In the early hours of the morning, the Dreamweaver stared warily into the forest, a habit she'd developed during any amount of down time. Cold rain pelted her face, but she ignored it. Her hands were clutched behind her back, and her foot tapped impatiently. She watched the Matriarch's marker twitch and shake, they were close, and it was active. Was it fighting something? Constructing more webs? She briefly allowed herself to hope it was writhing in pain as it died.
She sensed the arrival of Lieutenant Kerrick and his group of survivors. Hugs and cheers were exchanged amongst many of the adventurers as they were reunited, while others stood quiet and hopefully searched the crowd for any of their lost companions. Kerrick moved straight to the Dreamweaver and began his briefing without pleasantries.
"Ash Druga is awake and leading the reinforcements, they will have made contact with Cameron Cole's survivors by now, and should be en route," he said, "there are several smaller bands of survivors converging on our position as we speak. Travel is quick without the spiders, we should be fully regrouped within two hours."
"Do we have a headcount?" She asked.
"Not yet, a few dozen probably."
"It'll have to do," she replied simply.
"What's our next move?"
She nodded towards the twitching marker, "something's going on, I'm not sure what. My best guess is the Matriarch called its brood close to establish a defensive position. We'll go in with everything we have, as soon as we can, and hopefully catch it before it's ready for us."
"Ash Druga will be glad to hear that," he remarked.
"You're not?"
"With respect, ma'am," Kerrick hesitated, "I think it's stupid. I think we should withdraw from the web entirely, and come back when we can burn the whole thing down."
The Dreamweaver shook her head, "our small army is dwindling by the hour, but at least we have one. If we leave and come back, how many do you actually think will rejoin us? Half of them have already lost a teammate, and I've already had to put down talk of a mutiny. If we withdraw, we come back with a fraction of the men."
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"So instead we lead them to their death?" he challenged.
"They signed up for this," the Dreamweaver said sharply, "if adventurers never died, nothing would get done."
Kerrick held his jaw tight and said nothing.
The Dreamweaver sighed, "that's all, lieutenant."
He nodded and hurried away.
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Iris ran and blipped to keep up with the other adventurers. They were faster, more athletic, and more experienced, which meant a sustainable pace for them was a struggle for her even with the benefit of her blip. Many ran on the ground, dodging side to side and leaping over webs to avoid getting caught in them. Others darted through the canopy, slicing through the webs in their way, while some kicked off trunks to leap between them in a zig zagging pattern. Ash Druga led them with fervor, frequently shouting crude encouragements that often included calling them grunts and dogs.
The survivor's camp had stirred in the dark hours of the morning when the reinforcements arrived. There was a brief exchange, adventurers now healed and ready for battle taking the place of the sick and wounded, who would be taken back to the outpost for treatment. This included the delirious mage and several others. A cleric had attempted to take Whirl as well, but she vehemently declined, and was instead given a blessing to regenerate lost blood. It wouldn't be enough to get her back to normal, but it would get her back in the fight.
The moment the exchange was completed, Ash Druga had addressed the crowd, thoroughly riled them up, and led the charge. She looked every bit her normal self, except for the dark bags below her eyes. The goal was to reach the other survivors as quickly as possible while circumstances were still in their favor, and that meant a distance run through the web-strewn woods.
A few adventurers tripped, a few others got caught in webs and had to be cut free, but they faced no other obstacles as they raced towards the Dreamweaver, directed by scouts who knew the way. When they finally arrived, Iris was panting and heaving, and immediately doubled over to rest her hands on her knees.
"Keep your head up," Eli said, "it helps with the dizziness."
"I think--" she gasped, "I'm gonna pass out."
He laughed, "you're fine, just catch your breath."
All around them, adventurers were greeting each other. Some parties accepted their friends with heckling and warm embraces, while others shared quiet hugs and tears. Iris looked up sharply, glancing around the crowd. She smiled wide as she saw the tall, bulky healer politely cutting through the crowd, while a short, stocky redhead charged forward and shoved people out of the way.
As Autumn reached them, she reached out to either side and pulled both of them into a tight hug. Victoria materialized beside them from mist unnoticeable in the rain, and patted Autumn on the head. Just as Autumn began to release her hold on Iris and Eli, Titus reached the group and wrapped his long arms around everyone, hooking Victoria and pulling her into the group hug.
"I knew you guys were okay," Autumn said, hurriedly wiping away tears from her eyes as the hug parted, "Titus was so worried, but I told him you were okay."
"That's not--" Titus began.
"Seriously, you would be so mad if you knew how little faith he had in you--"
"You literally spent last night crying about all the ways Iris probably got eaten!" he defended.
Iris scoffed dramatically, "I can't believe you, Autumn."
"He's lying," Autumn said dismissively to Iris, ignoring Titus's continuing rant about how she kept saying Eli probably tripped and hit his head.
"That's enough greetings," they all heard the Dreamweaver's voice in their mind, and the crowd fell silent, "gather around for briefing."