The planning went on well into the morning, as the stars rose bright and wild over the little wilderness fort. The guards changed shift three times, coming and going from the small barracks off to the side of one wall, whispering among themselves and desperately trying not to stare at the new arrivals. Apollyon had a decent rest but the golems and their doll haunter stayed up for every moment. They couldn't sleep without magical aid, so they had nothing to lose by using the time to talk and figure out the way forward.
Come dawn, after Apollyon had woken, washed, and armored up, he found them about in the same posture they had been last night. With one difference; A tan cougar was curled up with Fluffbear's head poking out of her belly fur. Apollyon slowed his steps as the big cat opened a brownish-gold eye.
“Relax. She's friendly enough, dude,” Glub said.
Apollyon nodded and took a seat on one of the larger benches around the table. “Did I miss anything?”
“I can, hmm.... sum up,” Dracosnack offered. He shuffled his notes. “The place we are probably looking for is a ruin in the center of the 'Final Boss Forest.' It has never been successfully explored. We may or may not be attacked on the way in, by things that burrow underground.”
“I'm an Earth Elementalist,” Apollyon offered. “I can help defend against that.”
“Maybe,” Mrs. Fluffbear said. “We've had Earth Elementalists try before, and it's really tough. They move quickly, and if they get hurt they flee just as fast.”
“Well what are they?”
“Mmm... no one's quite sure,” Dracosnack said, checking his notes. “Every attempt at identifying them has failed. The words come up as three question marks. Which seems to indicate some form of, hmmm... deceptive skill at work.”
“All right. So we could face attacks on the way in. What about the ruin?”
“We have no idea,” Dracosnack said. “Those who, hm... makes it into the ruin, never return.”
Apollyon swallowed, hard. “Garon told us as much. But it's one thing to hear it in a comfy briefing room, then it is out... here.” his wave took in the uncaring wilderness around them. “Just a few days from its doorstep.”
“More like a week or so,” Threadbare said. “The Outpost's Shaman is expecting rain in a day or two. That will slow us down, and we probably don't want to get to the forest in the middle of a storm, so we might have to seek shelter and wait a bit.”
“Can we afford the time lost?” Buttons asked.
Threadbare considered her. “We didn't actually have a deadline for this one, so it shouldn't cause any harm. I would have liked to arrive back before the midsummer festival, but if we don't then it shouldn't make too much of a difference.”
“Is it that time already?” Glub asked. “Shit! I forgot to sign up! Maybe it's just as well I'll be out in the boonies for it.”
“It'll be in a little over two weeks,” Threadbare said, after checking his mental math. “We might make it back just in time, but that's assuming that we find the survivors, that they're in a shape to travel, and that the weather's not too bad on the trip back. That's a few too many assumptions. But we might make it. It's a three-day festival so we could see some part of it.”
“Then that's our goal!” Mrs. Fluffbear piped up. “We are all going to do the mission and get back to Cylvania City in time for the festival! Let's go!”
They brought Apollyon up to speed on a few more parts of the plan as they marched out, but the truth of the matter was that most of the plan consisted of contingencies. Without a clear picture of the threat before them, they couldn't do much more. They would have to play it by ear.
And so they marched west, following the route that the map had confirmed, down along the edge where the northern mountains petered out and turned into scraggly hills. The pines rose high here, and they spent many long hours moving in silence over carpets of pine needles. Indeed, their silence let them get fairly close to wild game, startling deers, hares, thares, and other game animals into panicked flight when they noticed the interlopers.
It was pretty good for the group's stealth scores. Threadbare even gained a rank himself.
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They were briefly stalked by predators at various points, but the beasts and monsters were cautious, and the group stayed together. Without a straggler to pick off, nothing saw fit to attack them, and they drove off the lone preten-deer that limped along parallel to them. The creature which only LOOKED like a wounded deer hissed with its split rib-cage mouth and galloped off sidewise with its crablike scuttle after they threw rocks at it.
And sure enough, on the morning of the third day, the heavens opened up and blasted the hills with a pounding rainstorm. Lightning flared in the distance, and the thunder boomed in the wild and open spaces so loudly that Apollyon's heart shook within his chest.
“Damn, dudes,” Glub said, holding a tree branch over his head. “I like water but this is bullshit.”
“We need to get down the hill,” Threadbare called out. “I'm seeing that lightning touching down at around our height level. It's best not to tempt fate.”
“What?” Buttons yelled.
And indeed it was hard to hear him, over the raw force of the rain pounding every rock, tree, and otherwise solid surface around them. A few more shouts and hand gestures got the idea through to the group, and they started heading down the slope. It was a slick and unpleasant descent... Apollyon and Glub slipped more than once as the water-loosened soil did its muddy work, until they had the bright idea of roping the group together. That still caused a few problems given the size and weight differences between the golems and their larger friend, but with a lot of cursing and patience, they managed to put the hills between themselves and the worst of the storm.
“Well this is better,” Apollyon said, shivering in his armor. “But I don't think we're going to get much farther today.”
“And we're not near any good shelter that's your size,” Glub said. “I was keeping an eye out on the way down. No caves I saw, no big trees sturdy enough to keep the rain off. I mean, I could Elementalist the water away, but that'll tire me out quick.”
“Mmm, perhaps another kind of Elementalism is the answer?” Dracosnack said, pulling at Apollyon's tabard. “Can you, hm, manipulate the earth and shape some stone into a small hut?”
It took a few tries. Nobody in the group was an Architect, and Apollyon didn't have the intelligence to instinctively build a sound structure and supports on the first try. But with a few failures and the guidance of the others, he managed to create something that was like a turtle's shell of stone, with the upper part of it overhanging the highest nearby point on the ground. On that point they built a fire, and sheltered against the rain, began the lengthy process of drying off. Clean and Press helped to some degree, but there was just so much water that it was easier to just lay near the fire and let it do the work.
It was a good setup. The entrance across from the fire let it pull air through the hut, and smoke rose out the sides of the overhang, so it didn't pool inside. The drumming of the rain became almost hypnotic, and the toys, their cougar, and their human settled in for a long night as the now-darkened sky grew darker still.
“No stars tonight,” Glub said. “Pity. They're one of my favorite parts of traveling out in the wilds, you dig?”
“I just dug out quite a bit,” Apollyon said, confused.
“Naw, it's... nevermind.” Glub shook his head.
“I like the trees!” Fluffbear squeaked. “Every one is different! Mopsy likes them too, but mostly for scratching. And lurking. And sometimes pooping while she's up on their branches.”
“I like the sightlines,” Buttons said. “There's plenty of cover to get behind, but if you shift just right you can get hundreds of meters of range, easy. I could snipe my way through these woods and not a soul could stop me.” She made finger guns with her teeny tin hands.
“I like, hm... warm fires on cold nights,” Dracosnack said. “I can curl up with a book and hear the wood snapping and popping as the fire warms me to my stuffing, and it soothes me.”
“I like having company out here in this lonely place,” Threadbare said, petting Mopsy's neck and scritching the scruff until her purrs filled the hut. “There was a time when I didn't have that, and it was... bad. We weren't made to be by ourselves, not for long. It's better to have friends along.”
“I'm sorry Pulsivar didn't come,” Mrs. Fluffbear squeaked. “I don't know where he got to!”
“Perhaps he'll turn up later,” Threadbare said. “We just haven't been able to keep track of him ever since he became a misplacer beast.”
“I...” Apollyon started, then he sighed, and leaned against the wall of the hut. “I like that I'm among people who don't treat me different, because of who my parents are. Out here it doesn't matter. There's just us and the wilds, and things are... simpler.”
The toys nodded. Threadbare looked up and watched Apollyon's lips twist, as he looked away and considered the flames.
“Would you like to talk about it some more?” Threadbare offered.
Apollyon didn't reply for a moment, eyes far away as the fire reflected in them. Then he nodded. “I think I should. I've had some revelations recently, and given what we've found so far I've got a sneaking suspicion that—”
Mopsy sat bolt upright and growled.
“What?” Buttons yelled, as the cat's sudden shift pressed her against the wall.
“She hears something! Shush!” Fluffbear chirped.
The group tensed, and fell silent.
And there was something.
A noise rising above the storm. A droning, roaring noise that Threadbare at first thought was a dragon, or some other fierce beast howling off in the hills. But it was too constant for that. Too constant, less of a beast and more of a machine.
“It's getting closer,” Glub said, eyes wide.
“Everybody stay calm,” Threadbare whispered. “Stay quiet. Glub, come with me. We'll put on Camouflage and go—”
And that's when the hut collapsed, as something twenty times its size crashed right into it and brought it straight down onto its occupants' heads.