The survey expedition proceeded rather smoothly after that initial incident. Much like before, Ozzy led the way, Eva took notes and samples, Wade handled the gadgetry, and Angela kept an eye on the rear. They reached the second site about an hour and a half after the first. It was another clearing with a standing stone in the middle. The brainy half of the team did their part while the druid showed the gunslinger how to put a timber wolf in a sleeper hold. The ferocious predator was then released into the wilderness, unharmed and with a belly full of pocket ham - his reward for being a good boy and playing along with Ozzy’s scheme. The man wasn’t certain if showing off like that was the smartest idea, but it did the trick and kept Angela from running off and gunning down more wildlife for kicks.

However, while the feralian gunslinger was greatly entertained, Eva and Wade were outright amazed at Ozzy’s ability to handle wild animals. The librarian in particular started questioning him about his ability to placate the predator with such ease. She pressed him about how it worked and where he learned to do it. This put the druid in an awkward spot as he couldn’t reveal the mystical nature of the skill. Thankfully Eva’s interest was born out of enthusiasm and curiosity rather than suspicion, so he was able to maintain his cool. He bamboozled her with vague talk of beasts being able to sense and understand emotions on some instinctive level. That half-truth seemed to do the trick as she soon moved onto other, less incriminating topics of conversation.

All that aside, the survey expedition was proceeding smoothly. The team managed to hit five out of their thirteen target sites by the time they decided to make camp for the day. Wade and Angela set up two tents across each other while Ozzy gathered wood and stones for a fire pit. There wasn’t much for Eva to do in terms of setting up camp, so she instead made sure that all the data and samples collected throughout the day were logged correctly in her notebook. With all of that busywork out of the way, the team huddled around the fire and took turns telling scary stories while roasting fluffy white sweets called marshmallows. It was, apparently, an Ostorian camping tradition, and Ozzy was thrilled to take part in it. The many humorous and cautionary tales passed down throughout his village’s history had been a great source of wisdom and inspiration, and he couldn’t wait to share some of those with his new friends.

It was therefore rather fortunate that the first to share a story wasn’t him, but Eva. Listening to the librarian’s fable about a haunted mirror made him realize that this world’s idea of a ‘scary story’ was very different from his own. Things like demons, ghosts, and spirits were considered little more than myth and fiction, which absolutely wasn’t the case in Ozzy’s homeland. The druid was rather relieved to hear that, though. The monstrosities in question caused a great amount of pain, turmoil, and sorrow, even without a mad lich in the mix. The horror level of his mother’s stories was significantly higher than what was expected of this casual campfire chat. So, when his turn came, Ozzy shared a relatively mild tale that Lady Cassandra Weathersax had told him and the rest of the Quartet. It involved a malicious entity that hunted down and tormented anyone who put off doing their taxes.

He was politely asked to stop halfway through the story, as it hit a little too close to home with all of his travelling companions. With the frivolous mood ruined, Wade took his chance to broach a subject that he had been silently dreading for the past few hours.

“So. Sentry duty. How are we going to handle that?”

“Dibs on first watch!” Eva immediately raised her hand.

“Then I shall take second,” Ozzy was quick to follow up.

“Third, I guess,” said Angela.

“… Well, that was fast,” the mechanic mumbled.

The others looked at him questioningly.

“Were you overthinking things again?” Eva asked.

“Possibly,” he admitted. “I just kind of assumed we’d spend more than five seconds deciding that.”

According to the League handbook, explorers had to always be wary of danger finding them in the wilderness, doubly so after the sun went down. It recommended that expedition members take turns keeping watch at night in equal shifts, giving everyone a chance to get the bare minimum of required rest. This group had four people in it, which meant each of them had to mix roughly two hours of sentry duty with about six hours of sleep. First and last watch were the most desirable since it meant uninterrupted rest, and Wade was worried whether arguing over who got those might cause a rift in the team. Explorers could be petty and selfish like that, judging from what he’d heard.

“Same, to be honest,” the librarian chuckled. “I’m just happy you and Ozzy are such gentlemen so as to not deny a lady the tiny luxury of first watch.”

“Think nothing of it,” the druid nodded.

“And I’m used to it,” the redhead shrugged. “You’re still green, Wade-boy, so I’m giving you the easy job.”

“She also feels guilty for that bear incident from before,” the brunette added.

“Libby!”

“Do I speak false, Miss Red Menace?”

“Well… No.”

The mischievous gunslinger looked like she was about to argue, but her friend’s scornful glare made her give up. Eva was a little too familiar with Angela’s shenanigans for her usual tricks and charms to win her over. With the matter well and truly settled, the group decided to stop burning moonlight and turned in. Ozzy couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down, though. Even though the forest seemed peaceful and his travelling companions were good people, he couldn’t shake this strange feeling that something wasn’t right with this mountain. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that his intuition started nagging at him, and it hadn’t stopped since. As such, the druid had to sleep lightly. He kept waking up at the slightest bump or crack, of which there were plenty as none of his teammates seemed capable of standing still during their shift.

So, when morning came, Ozzy found himself significantly less rested than the others. He tried his best to hide it so as to not worry them. That and his pride was at stake. What kind of mountaineer was he if he couldn’t even sleep soundly at night? So, he gulped down all the sugary snacks he had brought with him for energy and pushed on. Things got worse on the way to the next survey site, however. The sixth target location was significantly farther than the previous five had been and involved navigating a bumpy and uneven path that snaked its way up a stretch of perilous cliffs. Scaling that route took a lot out of the whole team, both physically and mentally. It wasn’t until noon that they finally reached their destination. In other words, they’d spent the last five hours walking and climbing. On the upside, the increased altitude offered the team a stunning vista to look at while they caught their breath.

“Should we make camp here for the day?” Ozzy suggested.

“Weren’t we supposed to hit two more places today?” Wade pointed out.

“I do not think it wise. Going down a mountain is often more difficult than climbing it.”

“Wait, really? But, won’t we be going downhill?”

“This is true. However, gravity is still not your friend. If you let it have its way, well…”

The druid picked up a fist-sized stone and lightly tossed it over the edge of the relatively flat clearing they were all on. It clacked and cracked loudly as it tumbled down the side of the cliff below.

“That’s going to be you,” he added.

“Good point,” Wade winced.

“Calling it a day here is fine,” Eva groaned while rubbing her sore ankles. “It’s not like the League gave us a schedule. Or a strict deadline for that matter.”

“Also a good point,” the technician nodded.

Indeed, the only plan the group were following was the one they haphazardly threw together on the train ride over.

“You need-a to listen to Ozzy more,” Angela piped up, her hands already unpacking the camping equipment. “He is the tracker. One of the best I’ve seen, too. If he says we make camp, then we make camp. Capisce?”

“Uh… okay?” Wade replied.

“Bene,” she said with a quick smile.

“One of the best you say?” the druid raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

The man was a seasoned adventurer confident in his abilities, but this was a strange land far removed from the one he knew and loved. Surely, he figured, the native explorers would have an easier time navigating it than he did.

“Here is some League wisdom,” the redhead turned to him. “Good trackers make for bored fielders. And I have been bored to tears this whole time-a.”

“Ah-hah,” he chuckled. “I see. That’s some good wisdom.”

Ozzy had to admit, he was starting to like Angela. Though they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, the woman was taking her role as the senior explorer seriously. She didn’t take charge or make demands when it came to mission-related things and took on a more advisory role instead. She also took every opportunity she had to teach him and Wade the ins and outs of the trade. The mechanic especially needed such instruction since he’d accumulated a lot of wrong impressions from all the fluff and propaganda the League was throwing around. Ozzy’s new perspective on the gunslinger allowed him to feel a bit more comfortable with what he intended to do later that day.

The group set up camp and got a fire going within half an hour. Much like the day before, Angela took over as chef and prepared something she called ‘explorer’s stew.’ It was a soup made up of the various preserved ingredients found in League-issued ration packs - mostly dried meats, roasted nuts, and canned vegetables. She added in her secret homemade blend of spices that turned the otherwise bland slop into a flavorful and hearty meal. Her formidable culinary skills were another reason why Ozzy was warming up to her. He was a simple man, and good food was an easy way to earn his favor. The only downside was that the quantity of stew available was not enough to quench his formidable appetite. It was a common issue with Ozzy, hence the near-criminal amount of jerky and ham the man had brought with him. Indeed, the entirety of his oversized and overstuffed backpack was filled with food. It was enough to feed a family of four for a week, or one mountain-born druid for three days, so he didn’t worry too much about going hungry.

Besides, the man had more important things on his mind than salted snacks. Namely, his troubled intuition regarding this mountain. As soon as lunch was over and everyone had settled down, Ozzy decided it was finally time he did something about that.

“Hey, Angela,” he approached the gunslinger.

“Yes?”

“Do you think you can handle things without me for a few hours?”

The man was wary of doing this yesterday, but felt more comfortable with leaving things in the redhead’s hands since then.

“Depends. Where are you going?” she asked.

“I just want to see more of this place while I have the chance, and, uh, I move quicker alone.”

“Hah! You? Quick?” she chuckled. “But yes, sure. No problem-a.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Great, thanks.”

He briefly told the other two the same story, then departed. He hadn’t lied about the exploration part, but there was more to this than a simple nature walk. Moving swiftly and wary of prying eyes, the man went deep into the wilderness, away from any paths, monuments, or campsites. After more than an hour of walking he came across a house-sized boulder. Its lower half was buried in the dirt, and had clearly remained that way for centuries considering the moss and vines covering the exposed rock. Figuring this was a suitable enough place, Ozzy climbed atop the overgrown stone and lied down face-up. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and narrowed his focus. Much as he had done countless times before, he reached out with his mind and spirit, extending them downwards as far as he could manage. Sure enough, he found a presence as vast as the very land he sat on. And then, he started mentally poking it.

A quiet and distant rumble echoed in the back of Ozzy’s head as the mountain itself awoke from a deep yet troubled slumber.

“Hrmm…” a voice groaned, then spoke slowly. “Old friend. Why do you disturb this one’s rest?”

“Hail, ancient one,” Ozzy replied. “I am Osmond of clan Stigandr. I hail from the mountain of Stigheim, in the land of Einhan, and I offer my apologies.”

“Ah… This one accepts and… welcomes you, old friend.”

The reply was lazy and uneven, as if the great mountain spirit hadn’t bothered to listen to the whole thing. That was more or less normal, though. Their kind weren’t exactly known for their ‘get-up-and-go’ attitude.

“May I have the honor of hearing your name, ancient one?” Ozzy continued.

There was a long, drawn out pause that lasted for nearly twenty minutes. During that time, the man did not budge a single muscle - mental or otherwise. Rock was stubborn and patient, and the druid needed to match that attitude if this chat was to be fruitful.

“Hrmm,” the voice finally returned. “This one… has forgotten. Much time, it has been… since this one has last… conversed.”

On one hand, the druid was slightly relieved. It would seem there had been others that practiced the druidic ways at some point in the past. Hopefully their descendants were still keeping the tradition alive. It also explained why the spirit kept calling him ‘old friend.’ It was likely confusing him for someone else since mountains were never very good at telling people apart. Each spirit also tended to refer to all humanoids the same way. Child of dirt, bald monkey, and meatbag were a few examples of the things Ozzy had been called by in the past. However, while not paragons of perception, these spirits had excellent, long-lasting memories. That was why this ancient one’s words were primarily a cause for concern. The only way one of its kind would forget its name was if something truly terrible had happened. Or, worse - was still happening.

“Forgive my ignorance, but you do not seem well, ancient one.”

“You speak truly, old friend. This one has… diminished. Lessened. Withered.”

“Do you know the cause of this?”

“Yes… It burns, burrows, and aches, even now. Deep within this one’s bowels… a leech most foul…”

Ozzy’s concern grew into outright worry. His intuition about something being ‘off’ had been spot on. He originally intended to use that as leverage and strike a bargain with the spirit, but this was far more serious than he thought. If the spirit was truly as weakened as it claimed - and the druid had no reason to doubt its words - then this was not the time and place for his selfish desires. Something far older and greater than Ozzy required help, and the druid wanted to do all that he could. Yes, his powers were significantly diminished. Yes, this was neither his mountain, his land, or even his world. Yes, he could just walk away and pretend like it was none of his concern.

But Osmond Stigandr of Mount Stigheim was never one to leave a friend in need, especially an ‘old’ one.

“Can you guide me to this leech, ancient one?”

“For what… purpose?”

“I wish to lend my aid to you, however meager it may be.”

There was another pause, this one lasting almost an entire hour.

“Very well,” the mountain finally decided. “This one accepts your offer, old friend.”

Ozzy’s mind reeled as an avalanche of knowledge smashed into it. It took a great deal of effort and willpower on the druid’s part to not be mentally buried by it. This was one of the big dangers when interacting with a great spirit - all of them lacked delicacy. At the very least, mountains were honest and upfront, unlike seas and storms. The ancient one shared all that it knew of itself, giving Ozzy intimate insight into every nook and cranny of the terrain for dozens of kilometers around. Much like an overflowing cup, his mind could not retain all of that information for more than a few seconds, but the man managed to hold onto the most relevant pieces. Namely, the location of that ‘leech,’ and the means to get there.

“I thank you for your trust, ancient one,” he said respectfully.

“Be well… old friend.”

With that, the immense presence receded, and Ozzy opened his eyes. His awareness returning to him, he only now realized there was a squirrel in his hair, a rabbit gnawing on his pant leg, and a bird resting on his shoulder. The animals dispersed in the next instant, as if only just realizing that the druid was a living thing. Thus the man was left alone with his thoughts, and what a jumbled mess they were. Once again, he got involved in something without thinking things through. Wasn’t he supposed to avoid getting tangled up in anything serious before he made it back to Einhan? This was far too big an incident to just ignore it, right? But what about Wade and the girls? Should he include them in this quest? Wouldn’t that be superbly dangerous for them? And for him? Surely he couldn’t just walk up to them and say, ‘hey, this mountain spirit told me where to find some weird leech monster, let’s go kill it.’

Indeed, the least awkward option seemed to be to stay quiet and go it alone, but that would be terribly unwise. If Ozzy’s time with the Quartet had taught him anything, it was that no individual was an island unto themselves. Each member of the adventuring party were skilled in areas that the others lacked, covering everything from warfare and tactics to talking circles around nobles. This new team was no different. Eva and Wade shared enough knowledge between them to make Ozzy’s head spin, and he had a pretty solid idea of just how deadly Angela could be in a real fight. Their assistance would surely prove instrumental to cracking this mystery and slaying the monster.

Actually, the more he thought about it, the more the druid realized that what the mountain called a leech might not refer to a creature at all. Ancient spirits often spoke in riddles and metaphors, so there was a good chance the cause of this issue wasn’t a singular creature. Indeed, monstrous creatures practically did not exist in this world. And even if they had, anything powerful enough to cause harm to a mountain’s spirit would surely not evade this information-savvy society’s notice. Especially not with the League running routine surveys of the area. Therefore, the ‘leech’ in question was likely a bigger, more complicated problem that the spirit could not adequately describe. Something to do with rampant pollution, for example. If that was the case, then solving it would require an elegant solution that Ozzy was ill-prepared to find.

Ultimately the man decided that yes, he would ask his new teammates for help. He had no idea how to go about it, but he had plenty of time to figure it out. From what the ancient one had shown him, the only feasible way to reach the source of its illness was a long and narrow cave on the other side of the mountain. Not too far from where the expedition started, actually. Perhaps, once the survey was complete, the others wouldn’t mind a bit of spelunking before going home. Yes, this did put off the matter for a few days, but whatever was going on beneath the mountain wasn’t a recent development. For it to affect the spirit’s memory to the point where it forgot its own name, it must have been ongoing for centuries at the least. A few days would not make the situation any better or worse in the grand scheme of things.

His mind made up, the druid finally stood from his meditative spot and made his way back to camp. He’d been gone for nearly four hours by the time he returned, and was relieved to find that none of the others were concerned over his absence. The druid chose to believe that this was because they trusted his ability to handle himself, rather than the cruel assumption that they didn’t care what happened to him. As for what they’d been up to during his absence, it would appear they’d decided to pass the time with a game called baseball. They had improvised a pitch on the flat plateau-like area where the camp was located, using spare jackets for bases, a solid branch for a bat, and an actual baseball presumably from someone’s luggage. They invited Ozzy to join, but the man politely declined since he needed to recover from the mentally draining communion. Well, that and he didn’t know the rules.

Night came before long. Eva took first watch once more while the others climbed into their respective tents and bedrolls. As before, nobody bothered to change out of their clothes, though they did remove the heavier gear. Ozzy fell asleep instantly, though this time around he allowed himself to relax. He didn’t wake up until he felt a sweet scent and a gentle pat on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find a very sleepy librarian kneeling between him and the slightly snoring Wade in the mens’ tent.

“Hey, Eva,” he whisper-groaned. “My turn?”

She nodded slightly, then had to suppress a gasp as Ozzy sat up while stretching. She quickly turned away on reflex, but continued to peek at his chiseled chest and arms out of the corner of her eye. She still couldn’t believe how well-built he was. She had a hunch he was muscular when they first met, given how he filled out that Huxley & Smith shirt, but would never have suspected him to be so superbly toned. To put things gently, she couldn’t help but feel her old medical interest in anatomy flare up whenever she saw those abs. She could probably grate cheese on those things.

In any event, the librarian quietly exited the tent so Ozzy could put on the top half of his armor in peace. She had already crawled into her own sleeping bag by the time he was done, though it would be a while more before she calmed down enough to drift off. The druid walked up to the firepit in the middle of the camp and sat on an old, dried out log the team had set up as a bench. He then spent his shift the same way as the last one - studying the stars. It was yet another activity he couldn’t perform in Last Flag. Even at night, the city was bathed in enough light to drown out most of the distant twinkles in the heavens. Ozzy therefore decided to use this opportunity to look for any celestial formations that he might recognize.

No such luck, of course. Admittedly, the man was by no means an expert on astrology. His knowledge only encompassed navigational essentials, like the Sentry and Wheel constellations. The most important one was Ignar’s Spear - the brightest star in Einhan’s sky. It was a guiding light for all travellers in the dark that unerringly pointed the way northward. Ozzy didn’t know whether it had any actual connection to the sun god it was named for, but its usefulness could not be understated. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be anything even remotely as convenient in this world’s sky. On the upside, the druid didn’t need to gawk at the sky to tell where he was going anymore. This world had developed a handy-dandy thing called a compass. Ozzy had no idea how it worked, but its ability to point north in any weather or time of day made stargazing seem woefully inadequate as a means of navigation. It was still nice to just sit and appreciate the tapestry of twinkling dots overhead, though. While not as practical, they were far more beautiful than some tiny spinning arrow.

While Ozzy’s eyes were pointed upward, his ears did the actual watching out, so to speak. From what he’d seen and heard of the beasts here, there was nothing that demanded extreme caution. In fact, they seemed remarkably agreeable. That wolf from yesterday had been especially cooperative in subtly guiding the druid through its territory, hence the cause of Angela’s boredom. All things considered, Ozzy judged that his ears were enough to detect anyone or anything that tried to sneak up on them. Sure enough, they instantly picked up on the sound of soft footsteps approaching him from behind. The man didn’t panic or even turn around, as he easily recognized who those belonged to from the sound alone.

“Hey, Angela,” he said in a low voice.

“Hey,” she whispered back.

“You’re up early.”

He checked his pocket watch to be sure, and confirmed that there were still about twenty minutes in his shift.

“Couldn’t sleep, too much energy,” she explained. “What about-a you? Looking at the stars again?”

“Mhm.”

“Want some company?”

“Sure.”

Angela strolled over and parked her behind on the log next to Ozzy. A bit too close, perhaps, seeing as her thigh pressed against his. Correction - her naked thigh. For some reason, the redhead had crawled out of her tent while wearing only her boots and her underwear. The druid couldn’t help but feel weirded out by her choice of attire. Why was she in her smallclothes? She was dressed normally the night before, so there was surely more to this than her foreign sense of modesty. The way she was looking at Ozzy reinforced this notion. She was smiling playfully through half-closed eyelids, her golden irises shining through as they caught the light of the campfire. The druid was momentarily at a loss as to how to react to this, so he went with the first thing that came to mind.

“… Aren’t you cold like that?”

Even if it was almost summer, late nights in the mountains were quite chilly indeed. Ozzy was used to much colder weather and therefore wasn’t bothered, but Angela surely didn’t share his constitution.

“A little, yes,” she admitted. “But there are other ways to keep warm.”

She leaned into Ozzy and placed a hand on his thigh.

“Very fun ways…”

It was at that point Ozzy got the message, and responded by firmly grabbing her wrist and pulling it away. Angela was startled by the sudden motion, but she didn’t scream or yell since the man clearly wasn’t trying to hurt her.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he spoke sternly, “but absolutely not.”

He then somewhat forcefully pushed her aside and stood from his seat.

“Now go and get dressed, it’s your turn to keep watch.”

He briskly walked to the edge of camp and made a point of looking out into the pitch-black forest, his back facing the lecherous redhead. Yet Angela wasn’t upset or disappointed. Quite the opposite. For once, she was genuinely happy to have been rejected. Her attempt at seduction hadn’t been genuine. Ozzy wasn’t even her type. He was handsome and manly for sure, but the redhead preferred younger and quieter gentlemen. The only reason she propositioned the bipedal mountain was because she wanted to see if Ozzy was worthy of being with Eva. The librarian was a hopeless romantic at heart, yet her beauty only seemed to attract shallow pigs that cared only for her body. Usually she was pretty good at cutting those people off, but Angela needed to be sure this new guy her friend had her eye on wasn’t like that. If he was, then the redhead would gladly take that bullet before he broke his friend’s heart. She was therefore genuinely relieved that Ozzy hadn’t shown a single hint of lust or hesitation just now. In her eyes, it boded well should he and Eva ever move past idle flirting.

In truth, the druid would have been very tempted to accept her invitation if not for Angela’s more feral features.

He was an animal lover, not an animal lover.