Griff threw the stone contraption when the Hyena-men were only thirty-feet away. His muscular arms strained against the weight of the heavy mine, but Dahlia remained standing atop the trap—preventing the arcane reaction fighting to be unleashed. Purple energies rippled along Griff’s muscled lumberjack arms and the stone sailed through the air. At the halfway point to the Hyena-men, at the height of the arc of Griff’s throw, Dahlia flew swiftly away from trap—at full speed, with both of her arms in front of her and her wings flapping frantically.
Fiery red lines glowed across the surface of the stone box. One of Zorah’s arrows struck a Hyena-man in the eye.
Mr. Disapoofer dashed after the box, leaped into the air, and the projectile of fairy dust known as Dahlia, furiously flapping her tiny wings to haul ass away from the impending explosion, grasped his white fur in a flash of vibrant fey magic and aerial acrobatics. The Warp Wolf and Dahlia turned inverted colors, vanished, and reappeared next to Griff and Zorah in a flicker of white teleportation energies.
KRAK. BOOOOOM.
You have gained (25 x 3)—75 experience.
Where the box exploded multi-colored flames rushed outward and seared leaves, trees, and fur. It elicited painful screams from the pack of charging Hyena-men. The conflagration looked a fair bit like the explosion of a fireball spell to Dahlia, although the intensity and size of the effect were much reduced from the infamously potent fire spell. Three of the Hyena-men were reduced to smoldering corpses by the incendiary trap, and the two who remained standing did so barely.
The super-heated, shattered rock projectiles of the mine container filled the corpses and surrounding area with smoldering hunks of fragmented stone and holes through which they had passed, causing gaping, self-cauterizing wounds. Zorah dropped one of the surviving Hyena-men a single well-aimed hit, her arrow punctured the enemies throat and quieted its dying cries.
You have gained 25 experience.
Congratulations, you are ready to advance to level 2! Visit a Pillar of Ascension to advance.
“Soul Lash!” Dahlia cried, and the air between the last Hyena-man and her hand filled with crackling radiant power that finished off the final enemy.
You have gained 25 experience.
“Thanks Dahlia, you’re a life saver.” Joel thanked the fairy, his eyes on the still smoldering corpses.
You have gained one Glimmer point.
“Indeed, thank you, little one. I would not have enjoyed being caught in that trap,” Zorah said slowly, reluctantly, after Joel thanked Dahlia.
You have gained one Glimmer point.
“Do you know what a Pillar of Ascension is? Or what Glimmer is?” Dahlia asked the trio with a confused expression.
“Pillars of Ascension can be found in most towns, and in some ruins. That’s where you go to level up. As for Glimmer… sounds fey?” Zorah answered Dahlia with a large shrug of her shoulders.
“Is there one where we’re going?” Dahlia’s eagerness perked up despite the lack of answers to the question she really wanted answered. Points were used to win, or at least keep score, and Dahlia loved to win or be superior to others. She’d have the most points and be the best in no time.
“There is. We’d better get a move on, an explosion like that might draw attention—who am I kidding, it definitely will. They might have ugly. I’d like to avoid fighting another squad if we can.” Zorah muttered darkly as she took one last look at the area decimated by the fire trap. She didn’t even move to loot the still burning corpses.
Dahlia waved her hand and used Magic Trick to put the last lingering fires out. It’d be a shame to burn a forest down accidentally, even if it seemed to be utterly lacking in spirits.
“Aye,” Griff said darkly as he peered each way into the Bramblewood. The fear seemed so palpable that Dahlia could almost see the figments of his imagination crawling out of his mind into the forest around them.
“I hate when the two of you sound like you’ve got a bad feeling, it always turns out to be true.” Joel grumbled at Griff and Zorah. He didn’t put his weapons away and continued to hold both his blades while the group resumed moving. Joel might not have anything to stab, but the blades did come in useful for pushing thorned branches out of the way.
Despite the rampant paranoia of the group no other monsters caught up to them for over an hour. When they found a small tranquil hollow with a brook running through it the toll of uneven ground, dense thickets, biting thorns, and so many hills had Griff practically collapse into a pile out of exhaustion. The woodsman stirred after a brief minute to study the stream, before he pushed his face into it and drank deeply. Several dead and some dying bushes helped provide shelter and concealed the hollow from multiple directions.
So, the group took a quick rest to drink water, wash away sweat, and otherwise catch their breath.
“Why’d you ask about the Pillar of Ascension, lass? Did you level up?” Griff inquired of Dahlia.
“I did!” Dahlia answered happily.
“Aye? I did earlier today, too.” Griff seemed to be as proud of himself as Dahlia was of herself.
Sniff. Sniff. “Grrrrrrrrr.” Mr. Disapoofer growled low in the back of his throat, his ears flattening and his sharp fangs showing. Blights. The Warp Wolf sent a single word to Dahlia, identifying the threat that had surrounded them unseen.
“Fucking fuck,” Zorah cried after she sniffed the wind herself.
A volley of sharp needles struck Griff across his back. The sharp spikes of wood blasted through his forestry gear with no diminishment, and one of the spikes pierced inches deep into the large man’s flesh.
The dead plants atop the hollow writhed and revealed themselves to be Blighted Twigs and Needlers.
“Kill the bad plants!” Dahlia commanded her Shadow and Mr. Disapoofer before she flew to Griff to see if he was still alive.
“Hold the line!” Joel growled harshly and took up position where any attackers from the northern lip of the hollow would have to get past him to reach the others.
“Shame we didn’t light a fire,” Zorah griped as she knocked an arrow.
Dahlia spent another charge of Wisp Heal on Griff. Multiple wooden needles were pushed from his flesh as the verdant magic seeped into his body, quickly repairing damage with a rapidity that only magic could accomplish. She burned two more charges, to get the rest of the spines out of his body and close the wounds.
In that time, Mr. Disapoofers, her Shadow, and the two humans dispatched the blighted plants.
You have gained [(6 x 7)—42 +13] 54 experience.
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“I hate Blighted Twigs, but Blighted Needlers are the worst. If one gets the drop on you it can be the end of you.” Griff groaned. Again, Dahlia had only managed to close his wounds. She lacked the resources to bring the forester back to full health.
“We have to go, now,” Zorah told the others. “Needlers release pollen that alerts their kind to a foe’s location. More will be on the way. Worse, I’m down to ten arrows.”
With that grim warning, the group hurried from the scene and resumed their trek towards Riverwatch. Between Zorah’s keen eyes and Mr. Disapoofer’s extraordinary nose the group managed to dodge two more ambushes by blighted plant monsters.
An hour later, the sun weakening on its descent towards the horizon, they broke through the last thickets of brambles. The sight that welcomed them was a welcome relief that drew happy sounds from the mortals. Dahlia didn’t enjoy the sight of the sun reflecting off the huge expanse of the Silvervein River blinding them, but when the sun lowered just a bit more and she could see, she felt a mix of pity and disappointment. Pity was a rare emotion for the fairy, but to her great surprise, that was the emotion that bubbled up within her when she got her first glimpse of a human settlement.
“That’s a lot of wood,” Dahlia told Mr. Disapoofer.
The entire settlement of Riverwatch lay encircled by ten-foot-tall wooden palisades. Behind the spiked wall lay primitive wooden buildings arranged in a chaotic patchwork, and a few important looking buildings of stone loomed over the smaller wooden constructions.
“Praise Hathor,” Joel whispered. The half-elf clutched a symbol from his pocket when he said it.
“Aye, lad. Praise be to Hathor and Horus both. Let’s get into the town and warn them about Snarf, then we’ve got to inform Bram’s mum about his loss.” Griff laid out the group’s obligations dourly. Their pace took on a slower gait, what with the safety of town in plain sight mixed with the reluctance of the mortals to explain what happened to the local authorities and soon to be bereaved.
Zorah coughed awkwardly until she and Griff made eye contact.
“Dahlia, can you hide your Shadow and familiar? It will make getting into town a lot easier.” Griff asked delicately.
“I guess, but Mr. Disapoofer would have an easy time getting into town. Poof. Easy peasy.” Dahlia looked at the other three as if they were insane, or stupid, but they were the ones who lived there so it would be rude to deny their request.
“Into my shadow and stay there until I say otherwise.” Dahlia commanded her Shadow, before she turned her attention to her familiar.
“I’ll call you back soon, I promise,” Dahlia swore to Mr. Disapoofer and the Warp Wolf vanished in a swirl of fairy dust. Without Mr. Disapoofer to sit on, Dahlia opted to land on Griff’s head. She deployed the last charges of Wisp Heal on the man.
The gates to Riverwatch weren’t that big. No roads left the settlement, only paths trod by pack animals and men. Nor was there a line to get into the town, but there were armed men in chainmail with spears and halberds guarding the gate.
“What in the name of Thoth’s sacred scrolls happened to you lot?” An overly familiar man with brown hair and a broken smile asked Griff. The good natured humor of the guard faltered when he noticed Dahlia sitting upon the forester’s head. “Are you trying to bring a blasted fairy into town? Have you lost your damned mind, Griff?”
“No Bram?” The other guard asked. He was a blonde man who looked worriedly towards the Bramblewood, but his eyes did repeatedly flick to study Dahlia as if she were a ravenous monster that could consume all their souls at any minute. He seemed less concerned with trying to stop the soul-eating and more interested in fleeing.
“Snarf’s back and we’re on our way to tell Lord Greystone,” Zorah answered gruffly.
“Dahlia here helped us fight off a few of Snarf’s scouts and saved my life to boot. I’ll vouch for her.” Griff assured the guards.
“Fucking fuck,” the brown-haired guard growled when Zorah mentioned Snarf.
“Off to Lord Graystone with you then, and tell him about the fairy, too,” the blonde guard waved the party into town, even more happy to be rid of Dahlia with the responsibility of her actions being someone else’s problem.
Joel groaned.
“Head to the tavern then, lad, we’ll meet you after we meet with Hal.” Griff pat Joel on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Griff. I can’t stand that guy.” Joel said sincerely, before he turned and smirked at Zorah.
“What the shit, why can’t I skip the meeting too?” Zorah demanded.
“You’re one of the few rangers in Riverwatch, Zorah, Hal isn’t going to take my word that Snarf is back if you were with me and aren’t there to back me up.” Griff explained.
Zorah’s sour expression didn’t improve in the least, but she did give Griff a nod of displeased acceptance.
Dahlia contented herself with staring at all the huge buildings and people that bustled inside of Riverwatch. There were vendors that sold weapons, armor, food, ingredients, wood, stone, if you named it someone sold it. It was a stark contrast to the Soulweald where a single merchant might wander through once a decade.
Of course, the streets were a trampled mess. The muddy streets gave way to cobble stone streets as they approached the part of town with big stone buildings. Dahlia wondered why they hadn’t made all of their streets out of stone. Griff kept kicking his feet at the cobbles to try and work the mud off his boots, while Zorah’s boots were miraculously free of dirt.
“Ta-da!” Dahlia declaimed and tapped the top of Griff’s head. Her use of Magic Trick cleaned the man’s boots to a level of being unsoiled the boots hadn’t been since they were new.
“What a kind lass,” Griff laughed happily.
Zorah’s lips tightened at the display of magic that matched the effect used to clean her own boots. Dahlia eyed the ranger in contemplation—clearly Zorah had a cantrip to clean and tidy the same as Dahlia, but based on the nature magic of druids and rangers. This in itself wasn’t a large thing, but it did mean Zorah could use magic herself, and that bore investigation.
Griff led them to one of the big stone buildings, and inside a youngish human woman looked at them in askance. Dahlia liked the woman’s colorful auburn hair that rested slightly more on the red side of auburn than the brown side.
“What can I do for you today, Griff?”
“I’m here to report some bad news to Lord Graystone. Is he in?” Griff asked.
“He is. I’ll let him…know.” The young woman trailed off, her eyes widened in shock. She had finally noticed Dahlia sitting on Griff’s head.
“Is that a fairy? I’ve never seen a fairy before. The fey are supposed to be gone…” The young woman babbled heedless of her audience, the appearance of a fairy shattering any norms or etiquette that the secretary normally followed.
“Hi!” Dahlia said, excited to meet another person. She didn’t like the sound of fey being gone though. How bad of a war had happened on this world, how long ago had it been, and why would anyone want fairies to leave to begin with?
“Aye, this is Dahlia. She saved our hides from monsters and accompanied us back to Riverwatch. She’s a good sort.” Griff explained.
The young woman looked to Zorah, who nodded that what Griff said was true.
“Well, hello Dahlia. I’m Amelia. I’ve never met a fairy before. Welcome to Riverwatch,” the young woman said with a smile. Despite the humans excitement there was a palpable undercurrent of fear that Dahlia couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t the wizened fear of a mortal who knew to protect their name, what to agree to and not, or even one who knew how to play music or ward against her kind with iron. It was disembodied fear built on tales and legends which had lost connection with the truth that birthed them. It created a displeasing sensation in Dahlia’s stomach and mind, born of the confusion of truth and words. The discordant notes born by their preconceived notions were so strong as to make Dahlia feel physically ill.
“You’ve got a very vibrant color of hair,” Dahlia complimented the woman, who blushed. The red in her cheeks highlighted the red of her hair even more.
Zorah coughed—it sounded almost like a dog bark. When the young woman met the gaze of the archer she looked down, flushed redder, and muttered apologies under her breath.
“One moment,” Amelia said and scurried away from the desk towards another door.
“Are faeries rare here?” Dahlia wondered aloud.
“Yes. Legends hold that the forests of the north once held an abundance of the fey, but over the years their presence has diminished. Supposedly some fabled city of magic used to be out in the Bramblewood. Most people these days think fairies are legends, just like that made up town.” Zorah explained succinctly.
“That’s sad,” Dahlia said, but the mortals didn’t understand her. They didn’t understand how wrong they were, their words echoed with half-truths and conspiracies, gossip and rumor, not the solid gold notes of truth. Why couldn’t they see it?
Amelia saved Griff and Zorah from having to respond to Dahlia when she reappeared at the door and waved the forester and ranger inside.
“Lord Graystone will see you now. Adeline will be by shortly with tea and a snack,” Amelia informed them.
Griff, Zorah, and Dahlia all perked up at the promise of snacks. It had been hours of trudging through the Bramblewood without anything to eat but a brief drink when they’d been ambushed. What kind of food would humans have? Would it be as depressing and boring as the town they’d come to?
For the first time, Dahlia wondered, what do humans eat? She imagined grass. Hunks of animals. Mushrooms.
Dahlia squirmed uncomfortably, wondering if there would be sugar.
“Griff, Zorah. Have a seat. Amelia says you’ve brought me dire news, and an unexpected visitor?” An older human asked the duo as they entered his office. The white-haired man sat behind a big wooden desk filled with papers, and he had the most elaborate mustaches Dahlia had ever seen—on a mortal. Fey mustaches were a step beyond mortal comprehension. They could even give a gnome a run for their money.
“Snarf’s back,” Zorah said succinctly, although her expression made it seem she had a sour, unpleasant taste lingering in her mouth despite delivering the message.
“By Set’s scorpion-bitten backside!” Lord Graystone cursed.