The empty pit in Ted’s gut only got worse as he entered the war council the next morning.

The room fell silent. All eyes turned on him. Every single one of the dwarven officers clustered around the map table stopped what they were doing to stare at him.

A single point in Social Graces from Diplomacy and a second level of Persuasion wasn’t going to save him here. He wasn’t a dwarf, let alone a general or a lord. He didn’t belong here.

At the back of the room, Ardic—Lord Tonvalbortdelan—stood in a smaller group with Luther and Steward Frieda. Luther jerked his head upward, gesturing for Ted to join them.

The void tugged at Ted’s chest as he approached. “Lord Tonvalbortdelan, Mage Commander, Steward.”

Ardic nodded curtly. “I hear you have a plan.”

Was there an edge of pleading in his voice? Ted gulped. They really were desperate. “We need allies.”

Ardic snorted and shook his head. “You’re telling me! The orcs won’t come, the Empire doesn’t care, and the wood elves are neck-deep in their own problems.” Ardic’s lips pressed together, and he stared at Ted through tight, narrowed eyes. “Come on, spit it out. Who do you have in mind?”

Were they going to think him mad? Maybe he was. Maybe all that was left was to embrace it. “The Order of the Battlemage.”

Stunned eyes stared back at him in silence. Yeah, that figured.

Ardic’s brow pulled together for a moment before letting out a hollow laugh. “Dungeon spawn. You want to fight dungeon spawn by bringing in more bloody dungeon spawn. Is this a joke? Did Idonia put you up to this?”

Without a hint of a smile or any kind of joy at all, Luther shook his head. “No joke, sire. This may be our only chance.”

“Slim chance that is.” The lord crossed his arms and cocked his head. “You realize the Order helped destroy Tarkath, right?”

A knot twisted in Ted’s chest. He did now. “They seek battle to challenge themselves.”

“Oh, that’s a great comfort for the dead.”

The bones of the dead loomed in Ted’s mind. His fists clenched up, and he ignored Social Graces waving a red flag. “This isn’t about the dead. This is about the living, and keeping them that way.”

Ardic blinked several times. His nostrils flared, and he drew himself up to his full, yet rather unimpressive, height. “I am the lord of this town, and you will treat me as such.”

More red flags. Ted plowed straight through them. He knew that look in Ardic’s eyes. That wasn’t anger, not really, and this wasn’t the time to play it safe. “I can make it there in time, petition for their aid.” He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “We could save these people, and your town.”

“They slaughtered our people and destroyed our city.” Ardic stiffened up and shook his head. “Do you know what Tonvalbortdelan means?”

Ted bit his lip. Town… something something, something?

“Town that refuses to yield, ever. We’ve had more than enough orcish ‘salvation’ already. We will endure. Luther, remove this human from the war council.”

Luther bowed his head and hushed his voice. “My lord, please.”

“At once, Mage-Commander.”

Frieda stepped forward and raised her hand. “No, my lord. Hear what he has to say.”

A succession of expressions flickered across Ardic’s face, each fighting to come on top. None did, leaving a confused mess. “I am Lord Tonvalbortdelan. Remember your place.”

Her lips stretched into a thin smile. “I will, as soon as you remember yours.”

Lord Tonvalbortdelan raised his eyebrow. “I could have your head for this, you know.”

“Be my guest. I’ve been looking forward to some peace and quiet.”

Ardic exhaled heavily and chuckled. “If we put an axe in your hand, the dungeon spawn wouldn’t stand a chance.”

The steward smiled. “Then who’d keep this place from falling apart?”

“True enough. Alright, Edwin, what do you need?”

That was the easy part. Now time for the actual request. There was no way he’d go for it, but also no backing out now. “I need the code for your portal stone.”

“If this wasn’t so serious, I’d assume this was a prank. You want a backdoor to our town to bring in a group of dungeon spawn who helped to destroy Tarkath and slaughter its inhabitants?”

Put like that, it did sound kind of crazy. “I’m asking you to trust me. That’s how alliances are built—on trust.”

“Luther, this plan isn’t even slag.”

“It has merit,” Luther said. He leaned in and whispered, “I’ve seen the army that is coming. If we fight it alone, we will die.”

“We will not yield.” Ardic clenched his fists, lifted one above the other, and smashed them together. “By the stone, we will not yield.”

Frieda placed her hand over his. “What of the plan, my lord?”

He shook his head. “It’s too risky. To trust you, dwarf-friend, is one thing. To trust our enemies? That is a step too far. I am sorry.”

What little hope held up Ted’s heart snapped. Maybe Luther was right. Maybe it was time to go.

Luther bowed his head. “As you wish, my lord. Then I beg our absences from council. There is much to prepare for the coming battle.”

“Fine, fine.” The lord waved them away. “Frieda, how is the fortification of the west gate coming along?”

Luther led Ted out of the room. “How’d you fancy learning more magic, lad?”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Magic? Ted shrugged. Even that couldn’t lift his heart from the depths of knowing what was coming. The dwarves would fight to the last man. In three days, every last one of them would be dead.

“Let me rephrase, soldier. It’s magic learning time.” He headed toward a familiar narrow staircase.

Ted cocked his head. Wasn’t that the way to the portal room?

Luther looked back. “Come on, lad. Learning spells is a dangerous business. We need a fortified room.”

Of course. Ted kicked the floor and forced himself to follow. Might as well learn what he could before they all died a pointless death.

***

“You did well with Eloran,” Gramok said, trailing behind her with all the stealth of a falling tree.

The knot in her chest tightened. She scanned the forest for danger, finding none. None that she could see, anyway. The first rays of sunlight were breaking through the canopy, but that pressing sense of wrongness was only getting worse. “This way.”

“I’m just saying, when you put your mind to it, you’re not as bad with people as you think.”

She glowered back at him. “He was terrified. I know what it’s like to be scared.”

“Right.” He paused. He was building up to make another stupid suggestion, wasn’t he? “You might enjoy hanging out with other people more often.”

Her throat clenched up. “No!” She sighed and took a nice long breath. “I’m not like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Other than you not being an eight-foot-tall orc with the best smile on the continent.”

“Isn’t it exhausting?”

The clanking stopped. “Sometimes.”

She paused and turned. That wasn’t like him.

His grin barely held on. “Not with the right people, though. Not usually.”

What was up with him today? “You’re tired.”

“You’re right.” His grin grew. It was almost convincing.

A weight pulled down on Cara’s chest. It wasn’t just lack of sleep that made Gramok tired, was it? “You don’t always have to be the light, you know that, right?”

His jaw clenched and he half-shrugged. “We should get moving again.”

“Alright.” She flung her arms around him—as far around him as she could manage, anyway—and gave him a hug. “Thank you for coming.”

He grunted, and they set back off toward Tolabar. The sooner they got there, the better. The tree-song was bleeding away like a wounded beast.

The Forest was wounded. Injured. Hurting.

Dying?

She swallowed. What she could feel of the tree-song was full of fear and sorrow, but not to that extent. Whatever was harming the tree-song, it had to be local.

At least for now.

Mind on the job. Keep moving.

How was Jeremy? Had he gotten himself killed yet? No, not Jeremy. For all his talk that rangers never got old, it was impossible to imagine anything taking him down.

The Forest was more dangerous than ever, but food stores weren’t infinite. They still had to hunt. The Rangers must have recruited a whole bunch. What were the new Lookouts like? Were they nice?

Were they terrified?

Cara frowned. What was it Gramok had said? Something about the right people? “Who are the wrong people?”

A deep growl came from behind. “Shouldn’t we be keeping quiet?”

She chuckled. “Sure, as soon as you stop your armor jangling. Right now, I think a tree could get the drop on us.”

He scoffed. “I’d like to see one try.”

“Come on, spill the beans!”

A long silence followed. Had she pushed too far?

Eventually, Gramok sighed. “Not everyone’s as authentic as you are.”

“Me? I wouldn’t say that.”

“When you’re not being a curled-up ball of nope, anyway.”

She snorted. “Aww, you do know me. Still dodging the question.”

“Well, a good friend of mine did tell me, ‘Answers are overrated.’”

In spite of everything going on, a warmth filled her chest. Good friend, huh?

Wood crunched ahead, right at the edge of her hearing.

Her muscles clenched and coiled. The wound in the tree-song was worse than ever here. Whatever was here, it was bad.

She gestured for Gramok to stop and snuck forward, searching for whatever was hidden by the dense foliage of the forest. Dungeon spawn? Another ranger?

A… tree? She cocked her head. Thick, gnarly bark coated the ten-foot-tall creature. It had black stained trunks for legs, rotting branches for arms, and dark green glowing eyes.

Corrupted Tree

Level: 20

HP: 510/510

Stamina: 435/435

MP: 75/75

Status:

Strength: 29

Dexterity: 17

Endurance: 32

Intelligence: 3

Willpower: 9

Personality: 0

A corrupted tree? No. It couldn’t be.

Leaving the Forest had been a mistake. It had needed her, and she’d left it and now this was happening and it was killing her precious Forest and how was she going to save it and why had she ever let this happen and argh!

Her fists clenched up. Mind on the job, Cara. Deep breaths. Focus.

High strength. Enough Dexterity kiting it through the Forest wasn’t an option. Crazy Endurance. No magic, at least. Low Willpower, not that it needed it with such high stamina. And zero Personality?

Did that make it immune to mind-altering effects? Not that she had any.

It groaned and flailed its rotting limbs about. Did it even have a mind to affect? It certainly wasn’t smart. Two on one, they might be able to take it if they were tactical about it.

She snuck back to Gramok. Even Sneaking and crouched behind a tree, he stuck out like a sore thumb. She relayed the situation and asked him his thoughts.

“Two of us, one of them,” he said. “Every foe we slay now is one less for later.”

She smiled grimly. Exactly her thoughts. That just left the how. “Its bark looks tough.”

Gramok reached for his mace. “Never let me down yet.”

“It’s a tree. Good luck bludgeoning a tree to death.”

His shoulders drooped. “Stabbing and smashing is pretty much my entire repertoire, unless you want me to play the most beautiful song it’s ever heard.”

“I’m being serious here!”

He smirked. “So am I. Maybe this is why I got a magical lute!”

She rolled her eyes. Was he still pissy about that? If so, that was a bit awkward, especially given her plan.

“Alright, ranger of the woods, this is your domain. What’s the plan?”

“Ranger of the Great Forest, thank you very much. I was going to get a good angle and line up a Sniper Shot.”

Gramok’s eyebrow raised, and he smirked. “It’s a tree. Good luck shooting a tree to death.”

She held up her bow and the lines on it lit up red.

He looked away. “At least one of us got a useful item. Alright, you kill it, I’ll tank it.”

Cara’s heart pounded. If Jeremy ever found out she’d shot fire in the Forest, he’d kill her. Whatever. He’d probably do the same thing, the bastard. All those years he hadn’t let her go explore the ruins!

She circled the corrupted tree at a distance, looking for a spot with a nice long line of sight. Once she found one, she gestured for Gramok to move into position between them. She herself hid behind a tree, deactivated Stealth, and waited for her stamina to come back.

Ted had been right. A “tank” was useful. Best not get him killed, especially not after he admitted they were good friends. Particularly especially not when he was only here for her.

Was Ted okay? She bit at her lip. He had to be.

At least he couldn’t really die, despite his best efforts.

Stamina recharged, she activated Stealth, nocked her lucky arrow, and took a deep breath. One stealth attack, that’s all she’d get. She couldn’t afford to miss this.

She drew her bow, and lined up the shot.

One good shot, that was all she needed.

She honed in on a groove in the tree’s back, letting the Sniper Shot power up. No point going for the head, nothing there.

She pushed mana into the bow, igniting the myrellium tip of the arrow, and let it fly.

Stealth attack! Critical hit! 162 piercing damage dealt! Leaking Sap injury inflicted!

Stealth attack! Critical hit! Vulnerability exploited! 246 fire damage dealt! Burning status effect inflicted!

Stealth skill increased 8 → 9!

Flames engulfed the corrupted tree. She grinned and nocked another arrow. Nearly there already.

The abomination turned and charged, rapidly closing the gap with huge strides.

Glancing blow! 5 piercing damage dealt!

Vulnerability exploited! 30 fire damage dealt! Burning status effect inflicted!

What? No! She nocked another arrow. At least the fire did something.

It stampeded forward, shaking the ground and spreading fire through the forest. Gramok lifted his shield, held his sword ready, and braced for impact.

Forest fire. The world closed in around Cara’s chest.

No. One problem at a time. She loosed another arrow.

Glancing blow! 5 piercing damage dealt!

Vulnerability exploited! 40 fire damage dealt! Burning status effect inflicted!

Bows skill increased 12 → 13!

The corrupted tree stumbled and collapsed onto the forest floor, spreading even more fire.

5,000 XP received!

Piercing Shot (Bows) Advanced Perk unlocked.

One problem down, several new ones to deal with. Nothing to worry about.

Just fires spreading and multiplying.

In a forest.

Her Forest.