The evening chill we encountered back near the peak of Mount Kirkholm seemed to have decided to follow us down into the sprawling savanna. Waking with the rising sun, it was cold enough my breath formed with every exhale. With nothing but flat land in all directions, the frequent gusts of wind sent a shiver throughout my body. My collection of wizardly and priestly garb was barely enough to block out the chill, so I tugged my blanket tightly around my shoulders.
Tallos was sitting on his folded bedroll and was whittling an arm-length piece of dry wood. While there was the occasional tree around, the ranger explained earlier he would only use reclaimed wood when making arrows. “We never use the wood from living trees to fashion our bows and arrows,” he had explained when I first met him, atop the crow’s nest back on Captain Larsa’s ship those weeks ago. “It’s a sign of disrespect to do otherwise. In the forest, nothing goes to waste, but we won’t sacrifice the living to defend our realms.”
I wasn’t aware we had come across any naturally felled trees, but Tallos nonetheless had located something with the loose strips of wood lying beside him. Perhaps he had ventured out during the pre-dawn hours and found a suitable piece of lumber. He didn’t have an axe, to my knowledge, so must have sought Ripley’s assistance in splitting the natural bounty into foot and a half long sections.
“Good morning,” Tallos called across the small camp when he noticed my lingering gaze. The archer seemed entirely unfazed by the wintery chill in the air, his ranger clothing ample enough to keep him warm against the cool breeze. “I’ve been able to complete two arrow shafts so far with many more to go,” he remarked with a slight smile and nod to the pile of wood next to him.
“Anything I can do to help?” I inquired, though honestly had no idea how I could manage anything close to his work. Anything I made would undoubtedly fly off at a weird angle.
“No, but I appreciate the offer,” Tallos replied and returned his attention to the lengthy kindling held loosely in his hand. Bringing the shaft close to his eye, he rolled it back and forth as if appraising his progress before using his knife to whittle away at a stubborn knot.
“I’m ready to go when you are, I’ve already eaten,” he added as he caught me again looking at his pile of perhaps a dozen soon-to-be arrows. “While your having breakfast, I’m hoping to get this one done, and perhaps another ready before we mount up. When we’re back on the road I’ll attach the bladed heads and feathers. While Jax’s gait is quite smooth, I am not yet skilled enough to be as precise as needed when creating the arrow shafts.”
As I enjoyed my meal, a mixture of steaming sausages and glazed pork, my eyes never wander much from Tallos. His commitment to the delicate task was surprisingly enthralling. Nodding to himself, he finished his first arrow. Grabbing a second piece, he turned to me and shared how Lowki was fortunate enough to come across a downed ironwood tree not far from camp. Lowki showed commendable initiative, so Tallos said, when the great cat work the ranger with a gentle nudge a little before daybreak.
Seeing breakfast wrapping up several minutes later, Stella helped Tallos store away his woodworking tools and spare kindling strips into my bag of holding. Tallos hadn’t quite completed a second shaft. With Stella’s aid, the archer needed only to hand her the rough shafts before winking away as each was stored in my bag of holding. I debated giving Tallos one of our spatial devices, but it worked quite differently for non-Hunters. Instead of an inventory window popping up for him, which could only be accomplished through a linked Accelerator, he would have to manually speak the name of whatever item he wanted to retrieve or store. He could do it, but it was simply easier to get Stella to help.
We brushed then saddled Dutch and Jax before mounting up. With a week’s worth of travel with the pair, the process was fast becoming habit and didn’t take too much time. As we worked, we chatted amongst ourselves, and to our horses. Miles passed underfoot and a sense of contentment soaked into our previously wary bones. Commenting on how cold it was, I questioned if fall was drawing near. Tallos replied that while it was approaching the season, more than likely the frigid wind was likely nothing more than air currents coming down the Mount Kirkholm.
Tallos’ comment made sense as we took in the savanna around us and the stark difference of other wide expanses we had passed through. Back near the capital city, the surrounding grasslands were plush and vibrant with long blades coming up to our waists if we walked through it. Here, the cool mountain air noticeably tamped down on the local flora and vegetation’s growth. The grass was far shorter and less vibrant. Our equine friends seemed not to worry as there was still plenty of grass to munch on whenever we stopped to rest.
Fall was approaching and I was curious how this expansive field would look. None of the leaves on the few trees around were changing colors yet, but would inevitably transition into reds, oranges, and yellows over the next several weeks. I loved the scent of fall, in either of my recalled lives, and the earthy scent on the wind whispered a taste of the calming fragrance.
I was able to store my spare blanket not long after, thanks to the warmth Dutch’s body radiated up into my saddle. It helped stave off the chill morning air. The massive forest that was the High Thicket was no longer visible at our ground level, the magnificent view blocked behind the sprawling horizon. Still, I could imagine the splendor in my mind’s eye as I recalled the majestic trees blanketing the countryside across countless miles from north to south. We had perhaps another thirty to thirty-five miles before we reached the High Ticket.
As the morning progressed into the afternoon, and the further from the mountain we traveled, the warmer the air around us grew. We soaked up the sunlight as if we were swaying dandelions. Tallos shared a rousing tale about some of the elves we would soon be introduced to, especially one wizened elder named Mistress Dilomon. According to Tallos, she was rumored to be so skillful with a bow she never missed a shot, not in a hundred years. His story was ended abruptly when a distressing sight in the distance stopped us all in our tracks.
Slowly climbing into the sky was a sizeable pillar of smoke. As we watched on, horrified by the implication, the smoke billowed upwards as a spiraling mix of black, gray, and white stretching into the light cloud cover.
“That much smoke is a very bad sign. We have at least twenty miles to go yet before we reach the edge of the forest,” Tallos said, his voice heavy with concern. “Elves rarely burn anything in the forest. It’s too much of a hazard and any such practice is tightly controlled. That…” he pointed towards the distance plume before giving me a grave look. “Can only mean the forest itself is under attack! We have to hurry.”
At our usual pace, Dutch and Jax covered five miles each hour when under the magical effects of my song of travel. Given the broad flatland before us, we could easily quadruple it or more if we kicked our horses into a fast gallop. Tallos was in obvious distress at the recognition an elven-guarded forest coming under attack. His desire to help his countrymen and their forest home was so tightly etched across his angular features it could cut through steel. Locking gazes with my friend, I nodded as we kicked our horses into high gear.
Every minute brought us closer to the smokestack marking our destination. From what little we could tell, the fire was contained to the northern-most section of the forest and wasn’t spreading like a wildfire. Had it done so, Tallos explained, the plumes of smoke would have spread further to the south yet, with each pounding hoof across the plains, the fire remained closely packed together. The smoke grew denser as the miles vanished under our charge. From our angle, it appeared as if the raging inferno was expanding almost directly away from the initial plume in a relatively straight line. From another angle, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it stretched a mile or more across.
It took only a little over half an hour to finally approach the forest’s edge. The skyscraping behemoths dominated the countryside, leading to the south for miles. The sight reminded me of when I visited the Redwood National Park back on Earth. The grand scale of the forest took my breath away, though my appreciation for the mammoth trees was stanched somewhat knowing part of the forest was burning.
Standing proudly four to five hundred feet tall, the massive sequoias were wider than four buses parked side by side and the tree’s enormous branches created a dense canopy far overhead. Nothing nearby was on fire, thankfully. Though with the trees blocking most of our view into the forest proper, it shouldn’t take us long to determine the culprit. Standing at the edge of the nearest sequoia, the prevalent plumes of smoke so easily spotted earlier were now hidden from view.
What normally would have been a pleasant scent on the wind, the sweet armor of burning wood known as nature’s incense, seemed tainted as my nose caught wind of it. Ill intentions were at work here. This was no friendly campfire surrounded by friends and cheerful stories. This felt… malevolent.
Tallos turned to me, pointing a finger deep into the forest, “The city of Quarris is five miles that way. Whoever or whatever is causing these fires seems to be moving nearer to the city’s limits. We need to hurry.”
With the chaotic spacing between the massive sequoias, we could no longer carry on at top speed. Both horses were slathered in sweat from our swift ride but, if their attentive expressions were any sign, both had stamina to spare. Dropping to a trot, with Tallos now leading, we stepped under the forest canopy. The undergrowth under the many storied sentinels was almost like something out of a movie. Fallen red bark, sword ferns, redwood sorrel crunched underfoot as we meandered around the impressively wide trees. The rich cherry of the trees and terrain contrasted well with the greens of flourishing plant life. Unfortunately, the grandness of it all was tainted with sweet scent of burning wood, and soon smoke was hanging low across the forest floor.
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It wasn’t long before we started finding bodies.
Burnt beyond recognition, dozens of bodies were laid out as if haphazardly discarded like they were nothing more than worthless marionettes. Elven forged blades, snapped bows, and elvish armor lay blackened and scorched from the heat of a yet unknown influence. In the corner of my eye, Tallos dismounted briefly to collected several quivers brimming full with arrows to completely restock his two belt quivers, as well as the one angled across his back. Tallos’ tightly focused expression and pinched eyebrows seemed to shout to everything around him. His demeanor promised swift retribution to whoever committed these atrocities. He was going to make them pay for single slain member of his race. While I was not born a true elf, having only transformed into a half-elf after linking with Stella, I nonetheless felt the loss and pain at the loss of so many noble warriors.
The damage of whatever smothered the life out of these proud forest-dwellers was not contained to only their bodies. No, whatever the cause, and for no apparent reason other than to inflict torment, an inferno had been set upon many of the tall sequoias. None of the fire still lingered, at least near us. The raging fires, having completely consumed the noble redwoods, left only charred mockery in its wake.
Even without my tracking skill easily highlighting the intruder’s route, the carnage of death and destruction drew a line in only one direction. Everything led towards the elven city. Dutch and Jax were beginning to show signs of nervousness, excessively salivating and trembling the prime indicators. With the scent of so much death permeating around us, we decided it was best to lead them on foot otherwise we risked accidents. With my reins in hand, and Ripley standing next to me, I took point and followed the trail of devastation.
We found more bodies, spread chaotically around another grisly scene. Unlike before, not all were blackened beyond recognition. Some of the bodies held deep lacerations which likely had proven instantly fatal, while other bodies showed no trace of what stole their lives. Whatever had done such horrific work seemed to kill with such an ease it alluded to prodigious power. More and more, a particular suspect gleamed in my mind, but I hoped it wasn’t him. I wasn’t sure we were ready to face my nemesis. If this was Duke, we could very well end up like the deceased elves around us.
Though we could not make out any sounds of battle, the path of destruction only worsened as we carried on. Not a soul was left living in all the carnage. Smoke was heavier now but a stiff breeze, as if the forest was breathing, was carrying it away which allowed us easy sight of the carnage around us. Soon enough, we came upon fires still raging and tearing at the bark of the esteemed redwoods. Furiously burning up the wide trunks, it was as the fire itself was an incarnation of vengeance against the immobile giants.
Tallos had a crazed look in his eye, though said nothing as we hurried deeper into the forest. His breathing turned fast and raspy, and his posture grew rigid. Tallos seemed to be silently screaming in outrage as if the trees were sacred friends to him and his people. This was their home, and the trees were watchful guardian who provided shelter and protection to any below their boughs.
I needed to do something. I needed to help. Reviewing my available options, I could only settle on one thing, gnawing blizzard.
[Gnawing Blizzard]. Create a localized blizzard within 50 feet of the caster. Within the storm rages piercing crystalline shards capable of puncturing through most magical defenses up to enhanced tier, as well as non-magical armor up to rare quality. Within a 30 feet area of effect, hostile targets are inflicted with the debuff, “Biting Ice”, which causes 200 plus 2.5n damage immediately and then every 6 seconds thereafter, where ‘n’ equals Intelligence. Additionally, afflicted hostile targets suffer a movement speed penalty of 20%, and suffer melee and spell haste penalty of 10%. These effects are compounded further with each minute hostile targets remain in the area of effect, though the effects are immediately dispelled when the spell expires. Cost: 500 mana. Cast Time: 2 seconds. Cool down: 10 seconds. Duration: 168 seconds (base 120). Plus 1 foot maximum range and area of effect, plus 20 base damage, minus .33% movement speed, and minus .1% melee and spell haste per spell level.
Note – Once cast, the spell effect cannot be moved from its original location.
Note – Friendly targets and party members are immune to this spell’s deleterious effects, only seeing a ghostly impression of the spell.
Going through the spell’s description, I needed to ask Stella a question. It looked as if the spell could potentially be used to combat the raging fires, more or less anything hostile. In my mind, the fires were exactly that. “Stella, can I use gnawing blizzard to fight the fire? The spell seems to only affect hostiles?”
“It should,” Stella answered after a brief moment of consideration. “In your mind, mark the tree as friendly and the fire hostile to you. Your intent should be enough to mold the spell to help staunch these fires.”
At five hundred mana a pop, I had more than enough mana to cast the blizzard again and again. Though I could hardly put out every fire we came across if I had any hope of standing a chance at whoever or whatever was causing such destruction. Mana was my lifeblood, and I suspected I was going to need as much of it as I could.
Stella caught my contemplation and offered a suggestion. “We need to keep moving if we’re going to help stop whatever is causing this, but if you cast while we ride, the spell will help. We need to be mindful of your total mana, as this will most certainly devolve into a fight when we find out who is doing this.”
Her eyes flicked across a screen I couldn’t see before she continued, “You regenerate over eleven hundred mana each minute. If you limit yourself to two, at most three blizzards every minute, you should have a high mana count when we reach the city. Remember, your mana powers your aegis. You won’t be able to help anyone if you get there with no mana left.”
Quickly pulling up my inventory window, I sorted it by listing all of my restorative items. “We have plenty of mana potions,” I stated after quickly setting my mind to the task. “I’m going to use them to help supplement my mana regeneration. For at least a little while, I should be able to cast three or four each minute.”
Stella nodded her understanding and I asked Ripley to take the lead before handing her Dutch’s reins. With the closer bond Dutch had after Ripley saving his life, he was more than amenable to having her lead. With a two second cast time, it was relatively easy work to ride and cast at the same time. A part of me wanted to quick cast the spell, but knew it would eat up more of my precious mana, and wasn’t worth it to save a few seconds. Stella was right, I was going to need every drop of mana I possessed. I was sure of it.
Though I couldn’t stop every fire, I quickly discovered if I placed the blizzard at the top of the fire, as long as it wasn’t more than fifty feet up in the air and out of my range, I could limit the total damage the fire inflicted against the giant sequoias. The fire wouldn’t be able to spread higher to engulf the entire tree with this tactic, and the cold air descending from the blizzard would quickly end the fire burning below.
Between casts I chugged mana potions and, with Stella’s help, timed my spells to greatest effect as we kept a close eye on my mana regeneration. Soon, every single spell cast was enough to save a tree from burning to death. Some were too far gone of course, or the fire had climbed too high for my spell to make a difference, but I was able to save a great many redwoods from sharing that grim fate.
Tallos still hadn’t spoken since we first found his fallen brethren, though appeared grateful for trying to save as many trees as we could. While our mounted pace slowed between spell casts, it wasn’t long until we heard the sound of battle up ahead. My liberal use of mana potions had dropped our stores by a significant amount, but it was entirely worth it. Now, with our enemy a few dozen yards away, it was time to focus on that. The distant scream of dying elves pleaded us on, but I paused a moment to consider our equine charges.
Jax and Dutch would be willing to charge into a fight, there was no doubt about it. But, I wasn’t willing to risk their lives if we could help it. Quickly confirming with Stella and Tallos, though the elf only nodded in response, we tied the pair to a log hanging and unmarred branch before continuing on without them. Either we would return once we eliminated whatever was threatening the elven forest or, should the worse happen, Dutch and Jax would be able to break free if they applied enough pressure. Hoping it wouldn’t come to that, I slipped Frostrend into my hand and crouched low into stealth.
No one voiced our growing suspicions in regards to who we were about to face. The casual display of killing was all too familiar with how the vile Duke dispatched Stella’s friend Stouter those many days ago. From our grim expression, each of us believed the time of our true confrontation might have finally arrived. I could only hope we were strong enough to stand a chance.
The last we saw of him, Duke effortlessly withstood a barrage from dozens of capital guards as if their arrows were less than nothing. It was only my timely intervention that finally allowed him to sustain even a single point of damage. Worse, we discovered he was max level for this world. Who knew how many powerful spells, or extraordinarily enchanted arms and armor the cold-blooded man had uncovered during his path of barbarism? If our suspicious were true, we were about to find out.
Tallos finally broke his silence, though he kept his tone to a low whisper. I needed to strain just to make out his words, but it was not hard to miss the razor’s edge biting in the ranger’s words. “The city is just up ahead. These fires will soon bring in a thousand elves raining down upon whoever was crazy enough to burn the High Thicket. Such a reactionary force will take at least several hours to mobilize, unfortunately, but I’m certain whoever is over there will come to regret this calamity.”
I did not have words to express my sorrow for what Tallos and his countrymen were going through. If my elven friend was any indication, seething anger boiled throughout the hearts of anyone who called this majestic forest home. Deliberately burning millennia-old trees, to an elf, would be like an enemy intentionally harming your child just to spite you. It was demented and uncalled for. War and battle inevitably took lives, of course, but collateral damage should always be avoided. To do otherwise, spoke of the twisted and psychotic mind.
The thrum of flying arrows, detonating explosions, zaps of lightning reverberated behind the trees standing between us. Crouching forward, doing our best to maintain our stealth, we, at long last, found our quarry.