Day broke silently. Heavy frost lay thickly on the forest and even the air seemed stilled by its weight. It was one of those mornings where you feel out of place for moving, like you've broken some transcendent pact with your disturbance.
Nevertheless, Ulric began his last preparations for the journey ahead. Brighteyes estimated three strenuous days to reach the Elven village, which meant at least six days total travel. Likely more, as he'd probably make slower time navigating back himself. Not to mention that he'd be in the Elven village at least a day, longer if he had his way since he had plans to try to establish some kind of trade with the villagers and take time to learn as much as he could from the elves. He needed to know more about the region, its seasons, its hazards, and the opportunities it hid. He needed to know the common sense of the natives, knowledge that had repeatedly proved invaluable and which was denied him by the fantastic nature of his arrival in this world. And finally, he needed to know more about magic.
A strange new tool it was, nigh unto an entirely unexplored realm of science in his perspective. One that had saved his life and nearly cost the same, under different circumstances. That kind of coin flip nonsense had to end. Ulric needed better control, needed a tutor to show him the basics and fundamentals. If things went well Ulric hoped he'd be able to spend around a week with the elves.
All in all, that meant that Ulric would be away from his glade for the first time since he'd established camp here and would be gone for around two weeks. It reminded him of the blurring of time that had gradually occurred. He'd actually lost track of time for a while, with days of rain blending together with days spent hunting, crafting, and being wholly consumed with the act of living. Despite his best efforts, Ulric had only an estimate that he'd been reforged some hundred days ago. At the same time, it felt like both years and moments. So odd.
Speaking of odd, as Ulric knelt over the rock pool filling his water bags he noticed a stranger looking back at him. Hair already long had grown longer, and was now tied back in a tight bun by a leather cord, to keep it secure from his eyes. A full beard, darker than his hair grew thickly, the first he'd ever worn one. The same harsh planes were present but the ever present scowl was gone, replaced by cool consideration.
Between his hale, if rough, appearance and his accoutrements, Ulric thought he was somewhere between mountain man and an Aragorn cosplay. Maybe he'd be able to find a better alternative for hygiene than his tallow and wood ash soap at the elves' place. Hell, maybe he could borrow a sharp knife and get a shave. There was only so much you could do with bone, glassresin, wood, and stone.
Brighteyes appeared outside the shelter and seemed to have made himself ready. He was shouldering a smaller version of the hide pack Ulric carried. He had a likewise fitting bow and set of arrows, only handful, as there was only so much you could do absent full light in the evenings and fletching was a time consuming business.
Ulric tied the water bags to hoops on either side of the hide bucket pack and hoisted it. His bow he had slung over his shoulders, braided sinew string holding it tightly to his back. He'd have to ditch the pack quickly to access it but better that than to have to try to string it in a hurry. [Forest Lord] bone knife was secure in its belt sheath with arrow quiver joining it at his hip. Ulric had traded his steelwood spear for the strange metallic trident carried by the Beastman warrior.
It was time to go.
"Time to go, Brighteyes."
The elf prince nodded his agreement and the two walked out of the glade.
Both moved through the clear undergrowth with quiet steps, one set so light as to barely disturb the leaves, the other, far heavier, only avoiding noise through carefully practiced placement.
Great tree trunks towered into the canopied sky, their highway sized limbs diverging into the thick arboreal ceiling that shrouded the pair's journey in gloom. Ferns and moss were the only undergrowth, this deep into the wood. Bird calls echoed through this cathedral like grove of ancient boles. It was the only break in an otherwise tomblike silence. No [Bolt deer] passing through, nor [Bladefern Elk] breaking the still of the forest floor. No skitters from hiding predators or smells that suggested their presence.
Hours slipped by while the travelers searched for the escarpment's edge. Rolling hills, almost certainly buried remains of the wooden colossi, and majestic pillars were used to orient. Ulric used his three point navigation technique to guarantee they kept a somewhat straight bearing. Brighteyes soundlessly kept watch on their surroundings, his keen senses tuned to be sure that nothing would approach unawares.
Ulric had come to the Ancient Glade by random wander, with no fixed path, and had done so at an extended jog with sprints interspersed, working out the euphoria he'd had at being free of bodily pain on that first day. That had been brain dead stupid, now he looked back on it, for a variety of reasons. As such, he had only vague sense of which direction they needed to take; too much time had passed since then for him to do better than angle them in the roughly correct line and go until they hit the cliff. Once they were there, Ulric was counting on Brighteyes to be able to get them the rest of the way to the lift and back to the Elven village.
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The ever-present gloom of the forest was beginning to lighten, a sign that the suns, not directly visible at all from their current location, were rising to their apex. The trip had been, all things considered, a relatively uneventful and straightforward affair. That could be mostly attributed to the relative quiet of the travelers, who were taking pains to not attract the interest of any roaming monsters or predators. They had sacrificed speed for safety, a trade Ulric was glad to make. It might also have been due to the relative chill of the morning.
Autumn was finding its way to an end and Winter would soon be upon them. The creatures of the forest, if they operated according to the patterns of Earth, would be settling down. Either they'd be picking up the last of the available food near their dens or they'd be proceeding along migratory paths to reach their Wintering territories. Either way, the likelihood of encountering something dangerous would be lessened at this time of year and their caution would further reduce the odds of meeting something hostile.
The gold and browns of the forest canopy were now mirrored on its floor, the leave fall having begun in earnest in the last few days. According to Brighteyes there would be a brief warm spell, maybe a day or two in duration, followed by an intense windstorm and this would herald true Winter for the region. Snow was common, and feet of it would drop in a single blizzard. Ulric was well prepared to wait out the winter in his home, but traveling would be a serious ordeal, especially through terrain with which he wasn't familiar.
Nothing for it, Ulric thought. Taking the kid home was the current priority, as was securing the good will of his nearest neighbors. He was going to visit an Elven village. Ulric had to reign himself in before he started moving too quickly and made more noise than necessary in the new fallen leaf cover.
As they traveled, the Elven youth had asked in a whisper why Ulric was occasionally pointing at two large trees to either side of their intended path. That led to Ulric explaining some orienteering techniques. It was worth the effort to show his travel partner how to first point a bearing, then how to keep the two guide marks on either side of it so they wouldn't deviate, either due to terrain or that weird neuromuscular bias towards one side or the other. Brighteyes picked up quickly on the triangulation technique for holding a straight course and said it was similar to what his Hunter attendants had described to him. The kid hadn't had much experience in solo expedition and instructing him during their trip to the escarpment relieved some of the travel jitters for both of them.
Just as he was thinking he might have Brighteyes take point they gained a rise and the forest fell away to open sky. Before them the majestic vista of snowcapped mountains in whose shadow rolling hills trailed a river stretched out far as the eye could see. It was breathtaking. Sheer granite cliff face fell endlessly with few rocky outcrops. Occasional spurts of greenery dotted this unscalable stone precipice, as vegetation found a way to exist in improbable places. Jagged peaks clawed the sky at least a hundred kilometers away. Virtually unbroken forest covered the space between, the terrain even and high at the base of the plateau gently descending towards the river until a distinct rolling of hills began, marking the approach to the bottom of the climb. The river meandered around and between hills with no discernable bank indicating that it had not cut its path so much as filled it, evidence of the relative geologic youth of this area from a lack of erosion. Those same hills rolled upwards away from the river towards a series of rocky highlands that formed the base of the mountain range.
Ulric's brain took time to digest the scene, the sheer scale of which made it difficult to interpret. While it was impossible to clearly distinguish the details of what lie before them, bluing of the hills lining the northern horizon and the way the mountains loomed to the east, Ulric determined that he was looking at what had to be a truly spectacular river to be seen from this far away.
It did something to Ulric's heart seeing such pristine beauty. His own world had possessed such sights once. But his people had ruined much of it. The western droughts had claimed much of the forest land in the rain shadow of the mountains near his home. Wildfires had taken what was left. Of the old conifer forests not much remained by the time he'd been able to travel to see what adventure nature could offer. Unrestrained greed, against the consultation of those who saw the signs and what they would portend, had taken a dire toll on Gaia's bounty. He had hiked a pale remnant of what had existed only a few hundred years prior. But this. This was what it should have been. This was a true wilderness. And looking down on it from the great plateau Ulric was glad he'd died and been reforged here. Looking out across the forest below, he knew it was all worth it.
Making the escarpment seemed a natural time to settle down for a rest and some dinner. The mid afternoon sun indicated that they had several hours yet of good light for travel, and Brighteyes needed to get his bearings so he could navigate to the [Ancient’s Gate], the great lift that gave passage from what the Elven locals referred to as the [Plateau of Ancients], on whose edge they were currently located, to the Elven confederated realm called Orlethrem.
Much of the land between the plateau and the mountains was Elvish land, a confederacy of clans who ruled independently but who coordinated through regular moots. Each clan or tribe contributed trade goods to a central organizing infrastructure about which Brighteyes was slightly cagey. The moots also provided opportunities for the young men and women to intermix and find marriage partners from outside their respective clans. It was a time of sporting events, celebration, and business. It was also held in the spring so it would be well outside of Ulric's journey to Brighteyes' village.
The massive river, called Zelas, was fed plentifully by the mountain glaciers and run off from several spectacular waterfalls from plateau rivers, and ran through the entirety of the forest, a watershed between the plateau and the mountains. The river ran some thousand kilometers roughly north and south, and terminated in an inland sea. The territory near the terminus was human land and Brighteyes knew little of what took place there, his tribe in the deep wood having had no contact with humans in many years. In the highlands approaching the mountains, and in the mountains themselves lived the dwarves. In contrast to his expectations, the Elves of this region and the Dwarves enjoyed rigorous trade and amicable relations. It was true, however, that the dwarves were reknowned miners, stoneworkers, and metal smiths. Brighteyes had explained the local geography and trivia the night before such that Ulric would have some better idea how to orient himself on his return trip and in response to numerous questions Ulric had asked.
A long luncheon of roasted [Bolt Deer], their only non-smoked meat, and glade potatoes gave the two a needed rest. Traveling in a hunting stalk, for hours, was tiring even for those in good condition. Rested and ready to move they took a few minutes to orient. Now, with the suns as a helpful aid and the mountains as a definitive easterly direction, the young elf spent a few minutes before deciding he knew approximately where they were and where they would need to go.
"Ulric Glade Chief, am sure now. South we go, to find gate. Can make by nightfall if we hurry. Homeland, Iriel, we can be in two more days." Brighteyes said this with confidence and was stumbling a bit over his speech in his excitement. Must be looking forward to home.
"Good enough, Brighteyes. Lead the way."