Ulric let the door close gently against its sturdy metal frame, the soft click announcing that it had latched. He hoisted his pack up to his shoulder and found his Shadow standing near the railing, looking over the forest.

As he approached, she turned and, surprisingly enough, her features were free from anger. Instead, she wore a small smile. Ulric got a little nervous. Taipan's smiles could hide razors.

"It was a fine trap you laid Ulric." She announced, "I did not realize you had used my own arrows against me until I had found time to let the Twins dance a round."

A round was the name the Elves used for the tendency of the binary stars to rotate around each other somewhat rapidly. They changed positions often in the course of a day, a mesmerizing dance of solar majesty.

It would appear that she wasn't angry. For now. He'd find out if that were the case truly later, when she put charcoal in his dinner or something of the like. Good. She was taking the prank in the spirit it was given, a little mild harassment.

"I had thought I had sufficiently spooked you away from Uncle Uldin to prevent you getting your heads together to make my life miserable, but it would appear that [Bitter Tiding Crows] will murder regardless of how they peck one another. Tell me, Glade Chief, how much did you plan in advance?" Taipan asked with uncommon good nature.

Ulric figured he had little to lose by telling her.

"Almost none. I established the idea long ago and gave the Master Smith a notice yesterday that we would be by so he could spring the trap. I did not wish to have too great a knowledge for fear of spoiling the fun." He admitted

"Mmm. Yes. That was a good decision." She confirmed. "You carry secrets like a sieve carries water. Now, unless you wish to drag me through the streets with my ears pinned to my shoulders, shall we depart?"

Her ears pinned to her shoulders? That would almost certainly have to hurt, even if it was just barely physically doable. Her ears were exceedingly sensitive. Don't ask him how he knew.

"Aye Taipan, let's go. I couldn't handle another good bye, Brighteyes was almost too much." Ulric told her.

They'd shared a breakfast early that morning with the kid. So serious was the lad, burdened with the weight of his father's concerns. Speaking of the old boy himself, Bald'rt and his wives surprised everyone with a brief pop-in. Rare was it for any of the women to be seen anywhere else these days, they spent most of their time in the royal apartments tending their Lord and recovering their own spent vitality.

Bald'rt still had the gauntness of a cancer survivor. But he was alive, and on the mend. It had been a poignant thing, departing from those decent souls so badly mauled compared to the first time he'd seen them in that same room, in their full glory. They traded gentle jabs and bid each other a meant farewell. Bald'rt extracted from Ulric a promise to return to Irielhos when he was done with his journey and before he went home to his glade.

It was, overall, the most he regretted leaving a place that he could remember in either of his lives. He hadn't felt that sort of reluctance to be gone from a place since leaving his parent's home for engineering academy. No, maybe not even that much, he'd been too excited to leave back then to have regrets. What awaited him now was no doubt worse than what had come before. Ulric didn't know how many lives were going to be lost between now and when he returned but he had himself a feeling that it was going to be measured in bunches. His among them, if he wasn't on his toes.

However, there was a job to do and Ulric had always been a diligent man. A cold, lonely bastard and a bit of a thoughtless jerk, but diligent. Some of those things were no longer true. He left it up to everyone else to figure out which.

The pair walked in silence through the bustle of Elves now double timing to war. There was a distinct focus in the atmosphere around Irielhos since the attack, an intensity that leveraged the movements of its denizens. Ulric felt a little of it bleeding into him as they exited the fortress.

Few would have known that the fortress’s resident Valin guest intended to leave so soon, he'd only just yesterday been moved to fast forward his plans. Still, many waves or "Good huntings" accompanied them out. To the Iriel'en, all who left the fortress and entered the forests below were on a journey that risked life and limb.

The Deep Wood was not a safe place, not even for the Elves. It was part of the reason they were so hard a folk. The monsters, venomous insects, lethally poisonous plants, and constant threat of attack from ambushing predators cold forged them into steel-hearted fighters, even the ones who never swung a weapon in anger. Short was the life of the unwary or careless. Strong was the arm and fast the strike of even a humble herbalist. A harvester's shovel split [Bark Weasel] skulls as easily as a warrior's sword.

As Ulric and his hunter-clad Shadow descended into the snow-laden forest, some of the excitement of his early days came back to him. Ignoring the purpose of the trip, he was, at last, going to see a little more of this fantastic world. Stepping off the lift, Ulric paused to watch that wooden platform draw back up into the tree tops, until it was hidden from view.

That was it then. He was away.

"Fancy a walk or a jog Taipan?" Ulric called out softly into the late morning light.

A shivering wind sent branches into motion and lifted the finer crystals of snow into iridescent streams across the forest floor, weaving with the air's path.

His Shadow took in the surrounding cultivated lands and sniffed the air, as if sampling it.

"We will push out today as far as we can, with as much speed as we can." was her answer, sharing some of the coltish energy that permeated their leave taking.

"For now, our enemies are blinded to our movements but I do not know how long that may last. It would be best if we are across the border before the snows are gone, they will limit the movements of scouts and dull the senses of those keeping watch for long hours in the cold." Assessed Taipan.

"Would you like my recommendation Glade Chief, for what path to take to find our way to Prosper?" She asked, almost as if daring him to refuse.

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Not a trap he was going to fall into. When you hire a professional, you listen to their advice. Or, you know, when said professional is bound into your lifelong service by an Elf King's decree or whatever. Life is weird, if he was gonna get hung up on the details all the time he'd be as bad off as in the before.

"Go ahead Taipan, I trust your judgment. My only suggestion was to be that we avoid the territory of the Riverfolk. As you are aware, I have somewhat recently killed one of their noble's scions and I am sure that one is going to be salty about it."

Taipan smiled fondly at the memory of the parting of her distant kin, a reminder to Ulric not to think of the Elves as a monolith.

They were, at heart, tribal peoples with distinct cultures and hierarchies entirely separate from the one into which he'd manufactured favor. The rest would be neutral, at best, or hostile for any number of reasons, not the least of which was his status of Valin, Human. They would carry grudges against one another for slights and scuffles ages past or for maneuvers for the betterment of their own Houses and clans. Many of them would have, for personal reasons, cause to view his Shadow in particular in a negative light as she had, reputedly, been somewhat unkind to some of their number over the years.

Ulric briefly wondered exactly how many would be Romeos the woman had publicly shamed and left to cultivate bitter resentment throughout the decades. Considering her attitude for the majority of the time that he'd known her? Scores.

He was drawn from the warren of tangled worries by his Shadow's voice.

"Ulric? Are you listening? By the Roots below, we are not even started and I despair of keeping you alive. Tighten the straps on that bird you keep in your skull, flittering here and yon, and attend me!" Hissed his pet viper.

"I asked you, what do you mean 'salty'? You are using words strangely again." the frowning Elf addressed him.

Carefully keeping his face neutral, it would not do to laugh at your bodyguard when they scold you for inattention, Ulric focused on her question.

"It's another one of those speech patterns from my old world I told you about. Being salty means highly aggravated and inclined towards opportunistic retribution." Ulric told her.

Her marvelous eyes went widely considering at this. She repeated the world softly to herself a few times "Salty. Salty. Salty."

Dear gods, she had a word that nearly embodied her dominant personality trait.

"Salty. Yes. This is a good word, Ulric, I thank you." Taipan applauded, "But I think I prefer its taste in my own tongue. Jarltyn. Yes, they will be quite Jarltyn about the way Sam'sav Morion shamed himself at the Year's End Festival. Savaged by an upstart brute of a Human, no offense intended, Glade Chief." Taipan said, rolling the j smoothly as she fondled her new favorite word. Yarl-tin, in her crisp Elvish.

"Um…none taken?" Ulric offered her, not quite certain how to take that.

He still found it a little off-putting at how happy the woman was about that Lordling's death. Taipan had a hard-on for murder regarding that asshole. It was, perhaps, just a bit hypocritical of him since he had himself known a sensation of satisfaction beyond anything rational when he’d smashed that arrogant face against the ground and stood over the broken corpse. In his own defense, he had what amounted to a little [Forest Lord] in his brain yammering at him through his Akashic connection to his title as [Lord of the Ancient Glade].

"In any case, we will not be passing through Zellussin territory. The river is still frozen but it is the most direct passage to Prosper and the most heavily guarded. There will be no stealth if we go that way, even if Lord Morion didn't have some plans in place to cause trouble, and that one will have many. Morion will give you trouble for the rest of his life Ulric, and will use his House's considerable influence to do it." Advised Taipan seriously.

The Lord Morion of the same Greater House of the Riverfolk was, apparently, the Bill Gates of Orlethrem. Richer than god and known for playing dirty to secure his interests against competition. A dangerous enemy once his empire was no longer threatened by Prosper's naked aggression. So, not a problem for today, probably, but a real goddamned headache for tomorrow. His Shadow had continued on so Ulric got his head back in the game before she accused him of woolgathering again.

"No, better to go directly North. We can move fairly discreetly through the lowland forests, Iriel'en scouts are not uncommon there, although you will need to take care that you do not reveal yourself often. Valin are not so common amongst the Celestin that they will not take note of you, especially if we travel together. I am unlikely to be recognized easily but it may still happen, I have Hunted through those lands for many years, and your presence will draw attention to us both for greater scrutiny." Summarized the woman, her eyes grown distant as she plotted an imaginary route.

"From there we can blend into the trade caravans of the Plainsfolk, Otherkin are frequent enough to be unremarkable, especially in the company of an Aes'r handler. I am also far less known in those lands.” Taipan narrated the hypothetical journey, while the splendor of Iriel’s snowy forest served as backdrop.

Emerald eyes scanned relentlessly as the seasoned Huntress led them and she continued to walk him through the planned approach, “We can move with some freedom through the Lagranel towns and roads and enter Prespang from the North-West wildlands. So long as we are cautious, I believe I can guide us through the Western reaches to the Southern shores of Vatyn. Passage along with the guards for a trader's barge will get us to Prosper from the Northern banks, which should allow us to disappear into the capital city itself.”

Without pausing her explanation, Taipan climbed a tree easily, jumping from limb to limb with feline grace, her melodic voice continuing unbroken.

“There are tens of thousands of peoples, of all kinds, mixed together there and our movements are less likely to be noticed. You will pass for a wildling barbarian from the North Vatyn regions and an elf slave will not draw eyes. I doubt many will even bother to spare a second glance for a savage with his property." Taipan conjectured, scanning the surrounding wood from her new perch in a branch some thirty meters high.

That was…a suspiciously well-thought-out plan. When she returned back to the forest floor to rejoin his side he decided he might as well find out why.

"Taipan, how long have you thought about getting into Prosper and murdering its leaders?" Ulric asked, wanting a confirmation for the estimate rattling around his noodle.

"I have had this particular route in mind for around forty years. Every five or so years I go as far as the docks of southern Vatyn to confirm the details of the infiltration." His Shadow explained, as if it was entirely normal to spend nearly half a century planning an assassination.

"Ah. Silly of me to ask, really." Conceded Ulric, who'd been off by a solid twenty-five years.

There he was with his pitiful Human concerns about spending most of a mortal lifetime figuring out how to get payback. This was Taipan, after all. If anything, forty years plotting an enemy's demise was…wait. This route?

"How many different ways into Prosper did you have?" Ulric asked, driven by morbid curiosity.

"Nine." His Shadow answered immediately.

"Two by the Zelus, three by coming in from the East, from the highlands of the Heaven's Reach mountains, three along similar lines as the North-Western approach I just described, and one involving paying Svartalfin miners to dig me a sapper's tunnel into the city fifty leagues long to come in from below. The cost would be dear and I loathe the thought of a month crawling through a tunnel an [Ironhide Badger] would find stifling but I keep the money to fund it in reserve." Detailed Taipan, ticking them off her delicate fingers.

Few sounds accompanied this conversation other than the soft crunch of his own boots on snow, Taipan made next to no sound whatsoever. They were still walking somewhat sedately, the sleeping forest around them only becoming wilder as they moved through the lands more intensely cultivated by the deep woods Elves.

"Just because I need to see this conversation through to its bitter end, why have you not already made an attempt to get into Prosper?" Ulric investigated, too far down the rabbit hole to stop now.

Taipan scowled. Not at him but at a memory.

"Father. I wanted to go after them as soon as I came of age but Father had already killed the ones who were alive in those days. I wanted to go and cull the children of those who Father had spared, who would have been grown by that time, but he stopped me and put me with the Hunters to train my abilities. It was a distraction, I realize that now, but then I thought he was helping me to prepare, which, I suppose was also true, in the way of Bald'rt to layer his stratagems." Professed the dark beauty, scrubbing a hand through her abbreviated hair as she did.

She'd cleaned up the edges of that shortly after cutting free her braid, and with it her identity as Geyrt Iriel. It now hung in loose tresses, in a carefully unruly pixie cut. Ulric found that the short style made her look much more in line with what he thought of when he pictured a Hunter in the wilds, even if her braid had been a lovely thing.

Certainly, she'd lost none of her impact. Darkly Persian skin, a figure that contained the perfect blend of athletic strength and feminine curve, piercing eyes that glittered emerald green with burnished bronze flecks, and a fierce presence that animated that flesh, like an Amazon of old.

She continued her story, letting the scowl go. It was an argument had and lost decades since.

"When I was formally adopted into the Hunter's guild I hung those plans from the branches for later. By then, scouts, poachers, and opportunistic fools were becoming a problem again and I satisfied my duties to Iriel and my own grudge by finding and eliminating these incursions. Just as my Mother had before me. I was ever busy.” Lips turned upwards in fond reminiscence as she described her life spent tracking enemies through the bush to slay.

A meaningful glance towards him implied that it was not a small number of men that she’d pursued as her quarry.

“That is largely how I spent my time, up until Heir Lumyt'seit was taken. Then I was sent to deliver Father's decrees to the Aktinian and Zelussin. I felt young Brighteyes return to Iriel and you know the rest, Glade Chief." Taipan trailed off and they lapsed into silence.

Ulric let her tale marinade while his eyes absently scanned the forest. He wasn't consciously looking for threats but months in the glade had taught him habits of being aware or suffering the consequences. His white oiled canvas overcoat melded into the snow, while the charcoal robes underneath remained largely hidden, their thick layers keeping him warm against the blunted cold of waning Winter.