Hefeydd was finally warm, though it had taken time. He had created a small ball of fire when he was sure that Giant Kobold was gone, hovering around it and cursing loudly and explicitly. Conjuring himself an apple had cheered him up, though. And shrinking himself down so the apple was giant made him happier still! His body taken care of, he had carefully made his way back through the forest, asking for directions as he went to make sure he was going in the right direction. A squirrel here, a bird there, a helpful tree or two. All of which led him to a frozen patch of forest. The trees here were dead, the ones closest were dying. The Giant Kobold sure was a meany. Remember the chilling touch of his magic, Hed tried to think of a what he could do to get revenge for the forest. Against something that size, and alone… He had some ideas. There were other things here, not just Giant Kobolds.

Hefeydd tracked the Giant Kobld, a task made easier by the destruction it left in its wake. What a careless creature it was. It was like it didn't even care about the forest! He spun about the trees, and heard a crashing from ahead. There he was, the nasty Giant Kobold. Clawing his way up a tree, attacking the poor animals. He pondered this for a moment, wondering what it was about the birds that the Giant Kobold seemed to hate. Maybe the hatred for birds could be used. Flying further into the trees, out of sight of the Giant Kobold, he sat down on a branch and began to make bird calls. He tried out a few different ones to see if any would work better than others. If he could find out what the Giant Kobold liked, he could lead it in the direction he needed.

Girshu ignores the mother bird that was fluttering away from him and focussed on the eggs. Plopping them into his mouth one by one, he ate them all. His claw rakes at the bird, but she flies further away to save herself. Seems like this mother bird didn't protect her eggs at all costs, instead prioritising her own life knowing she couldn't win anyway. Well, didn't matter.

Girshu climbs back down again and continues his path eastwards. An obnoxious bird begins to flute and chipper behind him. Girshu ignored the bird, knowing that only male birds defended their territory from other birds with their melody, or used it as a mating call. And he wasn't going to wear himself out by hunting for birds with either magic or his natural weapons, whether it be a male or female bird. The actual flesh under their feathers was too little to warrant the effort and the likeliness of the whole excersize to be futile. Girshu liked the eggs that wouldn't run at all, but would hunt some mammals that couldn't fly away quickly if he really wanted meat.

A colourful bird flies from up ahead, whistling loudly and heading straight for this sudden competitor in his territory. Or answering to the mating call. Either, neither, didn't matter. Girshu contemplates shooting him down, as the bird's trail was rather straightforward and predictable, but decides against it. He wasn't that hungry any more, not after the eggs. He slithers on, letting the sun guide him.

A few minutes later, he passes a small spring. It was but a little stream of water running through rocky soil riddled with the roots of thirsty trees, but it was clear and devoid of disentery. Girshu kneels down next to the stream and drinks his waterskin empty. With the leftover stale water gone, he then places it in the water, hooked behind a root to prevent it from being pulled away by the stream. Not that it could, the stream wasn't even deep enough to completely submerge a human's toes at most parts, but there was no reason to take any risks.

As the water flows into the skin, Girshu cups his hands and fills them with a bit of water. It immediately freezes over, and he breaks the ice into chunks. Girshu puts them into his mouth and begins to grind them down further. It was the best way for his body to obtain water without having to dilude it with antifreeze. And it wasn't as if he was amongst humans, who considered it rude and uncivilised to grind and chew on food so loudly.

Girshu looks up at the sky. There were a few more hours of sun left, so he should make some more headway before nightfall. As long as he'd only travel during the day, he shouldn't get lost or be led astray. And as long as the forest would be so meek and tame, he wouldn't have any trouble surviving in it.

Hefeydd gave up on the bird call as he heard the Giant Kobold moving away. That was frustrating. Maybe he just hadn't picked up on the right breed of bird, or maybe the Giant Kobold had gorged himself and was now full. Either way, Hed felt like a failure. He swung his legs as he thought about his next line of attack, barely paying attention to his surroundings so that the bird was literally right on top of him before he noticed it. He let out a tiny yelp and fell backwards over the branch. The talons of the bird missed him, just barely, but they sliced through the air and made his small heart race. Falling through the air he had enough time to scowl at the bird, a bright yellow one with which Hefeydd was passingly familiar, and then to flap his wings to halt his descent. The bird hovered in place a moment, seeing Hed's wings beating at the air and thinking him an intruder. Hefeydd though for a moment of trying to explain the situation to the bird, but decided against it. Why should he? The bird wasn't the boss around here! The bird would be lucky to fly out of here! The bird shot down into a dive, aiming right at Hefeydd. There were plenty of things he could do at this point… But what should he do? Fire? Ice? Shock it? Kill it? Hurt it? Hefeydd shook away the distracting thoughts in time to zip out of the way at the last moment. The bird pulled out of the dive and skated over the ground, turning back to face Hefeydd and prepare for another attack. He needed to keep his mind in this one! The pesky bird was becoming more and more of a nuisance! Narrowing his eyes, Hed drew in magic as he made his decision. He landed on the ground at the base of the tree he had fallen from. He whispered to it quietly, pouring his magic out. As the bird dove again, talons out and ready to strike, roots shot up out of the ground and plucked the bird from the air. They quickly descended back to the ground, pinning it in place. Hed strode over, swaggering with confidence and looked into the bird's eyes. "Listen up, you… You… Bird!"

Hefeydd flew through the air as he thought through his new plan. The Giant Kobold didn't want birds, and that was fine! There were better things than birds in the forest, and Hefeydd would use them all until he found what he needed. There were a few things nearby that could work, at least, according to his new bird friend. He had been forced to take a few feathers. Some poking. Prodding. A little bit of fire and ice. The bird had given in, in the end. Bowing to Hefeydd's vast superiority. Now the little bird was off doing the mighty fairy's bidding. A wide grin was spread across his face as he came to the cave he was looking for. He would need to find some helpers soon, if he was going to keep track of the Giant Kobold and bring along friend to play with. Luckily, this cave was close enough and Hed could easily find his way back to the icy path leading through the trees. He dropped his shadows, instead drawing on some light, creating a little ball and sending it floating ahead of him into the cave. He could see well enough in the dark, that was true. But he didn't want to be surprised. He had nothing to fear from the owner of the cave, not in a fair fight. But if it managed to get the drop on it then it was far too big and Hefeydd would surely be crushed into a beautiful paste against the floor. That was not what he wanted here. There was a low rumble as the resident was disturbed by the light and Hefeydd did not gulp with fear. No. Something was just stuck in his throat, was all.

Hefeydd was surprised. Negotiations had gone well. If things went well then Hefeydd was going to need to find some honey bees and entrap them somehow, but that was an issue for another day. When Mr. Bear had heard about the rampaging beast tearing through his forest, well, he had been more than happy to come out and deal with the intruder. Mr. Bear was big and brown, liked to be called a kodiak. Whatever that was. All Hed knew was… The guy was big. At ten feet in length he would have dwarfed any of those humans from before, and while weight had no real meaning to Hefeydd after you got bigger than he was… The bear was huge, muscles rippling under the fur as it got lazily to it's feet and began to exit his home. He allowed Hefeydd to ride upon his back, something he hadn't had to negotiate for. Not that he would have. What did he care that the fur was long and fuzzy, soft beneath him, and oh so cuddly as he sank into it. He became warm and happy as he snuggled into the bear's pelt and rested as it made it's lumbering way through the forest, meeting the path of the Giant Kobold and following it. Hefeydd would have to leave, very soon. Not that he didn't think his new bear friend wouldn't put up a good fight, but he needed to be prepared. Get ahead of this. Set some things up just in case, in stead of being behind and reacting to the slivering cold monster. Speaking of monsters, not far from here was a glade…. A glade where, if he was lucky, he might just find what he needed….

Hefeydd took off from the back of the bear, hearing noises up ahead that suggested the Giant Kobold was nearby. He hovered in place for just a moment, watching as the bear picked up speed. It was close to charging, but hadn't roared or made too much noise yet. He was a little disappointed that he wouldn't be around to see what would happen to the bear and the kobold. But things to do, people to see. He had two more stops on his list, before he could circle back around and see what had happened. He zipped through the forest, speeding along with the aid of magic to travel a greater distance in a short amount of time. If the bird was doing it's job, there would be some more fairies joining him soon. With more of his people, he was sure he would have more ideas. At the least it would mean he would have less word to do himself. That would be nice. Not having to fly around, being forced into making deals with others and… The smell hit him and he groaned. He was close now. The clearing would be just up ahead and the troll would be there. Stinking up the whole forest around him. He let out a long huff of frustration but continued onward. Trolls were big and scary, at least to mortals. Truly, Hefeydd felt less scared of this beast than of the bear. Troll were stupid.

"So… If I help you… I get… What?" Heyfeydd pulled at his hair, eyes rolling up as he sighed. They had been over this already! "You want treasure? I'll tell you where it is! You want meat, I can get you some delicious sheeps! Just tell me what you want and I can get it!" The troll stared at Hefeydd with those beady little eyes of his. He didn't seem all that upset about the intruder in the forest. If it wasn't coming towards him or his glade then why should he care? This was making Hefeydd upset. He buzzed around in tight circles while the troll thought things through. "Well… How do I find… It?" Hefeydd resisted the urge to fly over there and kick the troll in the face. There was a little too much intelligence i the troll's eyes and Hefeydd suspected that maybe, just maybe, he was being toyed with. If he did fly any closer to the troll, what would stop the troll reaching out and snatching him from the air? Hefeydd surely didn't want that. "Listen, I have somewhere else I need to be. Do we have a deal or do I find a someone stronger? I thought you would be excited to fight, but I guess you're just scared!" He poked out his tongue at the end of this, and turned in spot, ready to leave. He wasn't trying to trick the troll. But the troll growled anyway, making up his mind.

Hefeydd's final stop for the day, otherwise he would miss anything, was to another glade. If he was right about directions then he should be a few miles ahead of where the Giant Kobold should be. No fairies had found him, which was annoying. No birds come to find him either. You just couldn't get the help these days. Made him wonder, momentarily, if the bear and the troll were even going to make it to the kobold! What if they got distracted, wandering off to find something delicious to eat. Speaking of… If the centaurs held up with custom they would have to feed Hefeydd! Wouldn't they?

As it turned out, they did feed Hefeydd. Not because they felt obligated but because he was a nuisance that they didn't want to risk bothering. If the fairy thought they were snubbing him or insulting him in any way… Well, it would be a bother if not an actual threat. They were full of hot air but could do all kinds of things to make them miserable. If a group of them got it into their heads to torment them… Better just to feed the little guy and hear him out. What he said was worrying, something they should have heard about sooner. His words made little sense, but he described something large. Something reptilian. Something very, very dangerous. Castus looked at the others in his hunting party, five of them in all. One of them would have to go warn the others. Would four be enough to stop whatever was coming? Almost sounded like a dragon. May the gods protect them if it was. Castus allowed the fairy to ride upon his back as he and the other hunters left their camp, the youngest of them leaving to find their people. They galloped through the trees, the surrounding familiar enough that there was no danger of them tripping. Bows were readied, spears prepared. The fairy, who had been perched upon his shoulder for the whole ride, suddenly took off as they reached the path of ice leading on. They had missed it, but not by much.

It had been watching the proceedings, careful not to show itself. The humans were meant to be it's meal. They had been taken from it. The fae had then started messing with things. Things it should not have. When the fae had given the bird orders to find more.. Well, it couldn't have that. It had snatched the bird from the air, consuming it's life force. What was left of the bird was nothing but ashes. Just like the fae would be. Just like the reptile would be.

"Damn it, come on! Jusst freaking tear sstraight, you tough sson of a bitch!" Girshu mumbles, pulling and jerking at the fur of the mighty beast. This would've been a lot easier if he had serrated claws, or some kind of knife. "Jusst tear and sslice open, you sstupid beasst!"

With much effort, Girshu slices through the cave bear's fur. Pushing the massive beast over, he continues carving the line. He'd soon come to the belly, where the fur and leather were softer and easier to cut. And once he had the chest fur, he wasn't going to bother with the rest of this bear's fur. In between the effort that it took him to gather just this much and the weight that the roll of fur and the bear meat were going to burden him, he was already going to carry along a lot.

A crack sounds behind him, and Girshu immediately looks around. It was just one of the troll's fingers, defrosting enough to move a bit. The troll wasn't going to break out of his frozen cage any time soon, though. Girshu turns back to the bear and continues carving.

Once the bear has two long carves on his spine that circle all the way around his belly before returning to the spine, Girshu begins to carve into the outmost left side of the white chest fur. Once he managed to completely carve through it with his claws, he begins to slowly pull the fur off the skin. Eventually Girshu has a long length of bear fur that he rolls up and binds to his pack with some leather straps. Fur and leather were valuable goods anywhere, and such a thick and large strap of hide like this one should fetch quite a good price. All the fur around the bear's shoulders, head and limbs would be left where they are, it was too much of a bother to carve into this beast's skin.

Girshu smiles as he thinks back at the beast's assault. It had been a massive and ferocious creature, hiding its presence until it saw Girshu and charged at him directly. With its mighty claws (which were now in a pouch in Girshu's bag), the bear could've killed Girshu with a single swipe. Its teeth were so massive and great that it might've snapped off a limb with a single bite. And as it stood almost as tall as Girshu while walking on all fours, the sheer bulk of the beast was more than impressive.

That said, it was still surprising that it managed to survive the first ice spike that Girshu had thrown at it. As much as the beast would've been a challenge to any frost salamander who'd face it with a spear of trident, magic casters were beyond the danger and wiles of nature. Usually. This bear had managed to survive the first spike when it grazed off its skull, and almost got close enough to slam into Girshu. Things would've gotten real ugly if that had been the case. But, simultaneously fired spike #2 to #4 had struck true and felled the beast. One's size didn't matter when there was a spike of ice lodged into your left eye that poked all the way into your brain.

The troll was a bigger issue. Those damned creatures weren't as powerful in raw force as bears and lacked the stealthy approach that this one had, but their regenerative ability was a nuisance that allowed them to be more careless despite these differences. No matter how many times you'd attack or kill them, they'd always get back up and always got back to attacking you. They knew that they didn't have to be careful or tactical, that they didn't have to dodge or block, that they didn't have to prey upon the weak or defenseless. They knew that they'd always regenerate if things went south. Well, unless they were felled by a beast big enough to eat them whole and which wasn't bothered by their abyssmal stench enough not to eat them.

Girshu had heard of a settlement that his species had once had, specifically one in more mountainous regions. The settlement had been defended by a protective wall of ice, several men high. Just pure ice, but filled with trolls. Whenever a troll would enter the domain or harass the inhabitants in any other way, they'd catch it and encase it into the wall with the others. If the settlement would ever be besieged, breaking or melting the wall would result in the trolls breaking free and attacking the siege army. The settlers had even tested the principle at times, confirming that even trolls that had been frozen for decades would just regenerate back to life and attack the nearest opponent like it was nothing. They were repugnant, unnatural creatures, those trolls. So this one too would no doubt be up and running again soon enough.

Girshu looks back at the bear. The beast fulfilled a second very useful purpose, it would keep the troll distracted. It was almost as good a purpose as the first one; feeding Girshu. Girshu had already carved out some of the best parts of the bear meat and dined, but it was but a fraction of the meat and fat that the bear had. He had even filled all his bags that weren't used for something else with bear meat and disposed of any old and less tasty rations for the bear meat, and yet there was still so much bear meat left. He even had to leave the ribs, his favourite part of the bear, because he'd be wasting so much space and weight on the bones.

The rest of the bear would be for the troll, angry as Girshu got at the thought. But, it was necessary. Girshu already had to freeze the troll whole to stop him, a much more exhausting effort than slaying the bear required, and he'd have to freeze the troll again and again. Every time he'd defrost, he'd come for Girshu again. Every time, Girshu would have to freeze him whole again and continue his path, knowing he couldn't end that cycle. He didn't have any acid on hand to kill it indefinately, after all.

But with this bear, the troll would be oversaturated and still be straining to pull the leftovers of the beast back to wherever his lair was. Without hunger and with plenty of food left, he probably wouldn't hunt for weeks to come, only assaulting any invaders of his lair. By the time he would get hungry again, Girshu would be long gone. Unlike if there hadn't been a bear, in which case he'd chase after Girshu again and again with just hours of respite in between.

"It seemss like the godss of luck and travelling are with me." Girshu says, smiling. "Two threatss at oncse, and they sserve to nullify the other. Not to mention, there'ss no way that I'll be bothered by a third isssue any time ssoon, now that thesse two are dealt with."

Well, that was kinda true. Girshu knew that the mysterious being and their familiar were still about, and he was still suspicious that they were following him now. Perhaps the few hints of a malicious being that Girshu picked up on before had been them? But at least the locals shouldn't be too much of an issue now. In between the bear and the troll, this area should now be devoid of large predators that would either hunt of defend their territory. There was nothing left here to threaten him, right? Right. Except for the mage and his familiar of course. Or her familiar? Their familiar.

As Girshu goes over the troll again to apply a little touch of frost here and there and optime the time that it would take for the monster to defrost, the sound of hooves appear in the far distance. As these were not metal hooves nor of beasts that knew not how to traverse the woods efficiently, Girshu didn't hear them yet. His silent stalker did, and quickly found a place where they'd be undetected from all angles. Girshu begins slithering away, having to make some more distance between him and this annoyance of a troll before he'd unfreeze. Darn creature, at this rate he'd be travelling at night for some time before setting up camp.

Hefeydd indulged himself, watching from the trees above as the centaurs approached where the Giant Kobold should have been by now. That was if Mr Bear hadn't taken care of him. Or the nasty, smelly troll. If one of them had succeeded then Hefeydd would be forced to keep his end of his deals with them, tedious things that would take all the fun out of tomorrow. If they had failed, though… Well then Hefeydd would be freed of his obligations! Neither of them had thought to ask about what would happen upon their deaths, so sure they had been that they would be the ones doing the slaying. If both had failed then that made things more difficult, and yet more fun. The Giant Kobold would continue his unchecked rampage through the forest, killing all that came into it's path. Hefeydd would be forced, for a while longer at least, to follow and make his best efforts to stop the monster. It was an unspoken agreement. He was a fairy, this was a forest. They took care of each other. He put on a little burst of speed as he realised the centaurs were getting ahead of him while he had been twirling around in the air. No need to worry about anything yet. Not until he knew for sure, one way or another, what was going to be required of him. He pulled at the shadows around him, blending in and disappearing from sight. Or so he hoped.

Castus could sense the disquiet of the forest around him, the pain of the trees that had been frozen and killed. He blood began to boil with rage at whatever was doing this. Whatever it was, it would pay. He would make sure of it or lay down his life in the attempt. There was a frozen path before them, an obvious trail leading on. Judging by what the fairy had told them there was really only one direction to follow, the path behind would just lead them back the way the creature had come. They had that much in their favor at least. If the creature couldn't help the mess it left in it's wake then there would be no hiding from Castus or the other hunters. Castus himself was considered one of the best hunters in the tribe, a seasoned warrior with years of experience. The hunting party had been a mixed bunch. Castus and two other veterans with three foals, teaching them the way of the forest. It was a dangerous place and needed to be respected, even by those who lived within it. He made the hand gestures that would signal his intent to the others. One pair would remain with him, in the rear, bows readied. The other pair, a younger and older hunter together, would move on ahead with spears drawn. They would be the tip of the attack, drawing out whatever danger lay ahead while he and the other two would keep at range to fill whatever it was with arrows. He had an uneasy feeling as they fell into formation. He wished he had his armor, and weapons suited for combat instead of these tools meant for hunting. A hunting bow or spear could take a boar with ease, but they were toys compared to a war bow and spear. They would make do, though. It was one lizard creature, how tough could it be?

Safely tucked away in his shadows Hefeydd caught up to and overtook the centaurs. He wasn't equipped mentally to deal with holding back and waiting to see what would or would not happen. He needed to know! So it was that he found himself looking down on an awful mess. There was blood and bits of meat strewn everywhere, centered around a discarded mountain of… Was that… Hefeydd froze in place as he recognised the mess for what it was. That was Mr. Bear. At least, it had been Mr. Bear. He was in a terrible state right now though. Hefeydd had a feeling that he wouldn't be required to hold up that particular deal. Had there been a Mrs. Bear back in  that cave? Little Bearlets? Who knew? Who cared? Not Hefeydd. Too bad for Mr. Bear. That meant it was all on the troll and the centaurs! He spun in place to watch the centaurs catch up and saw the block of quickly thawing ice. There was something inside the ice… Hefeydd drifted closer and closer, drawn towards it by his own curiosity. There was something familiar about that shape, too. The ice began to crack and Hefeydd stopped where he was, just a few feet away. The sound of clip-clopping drew his attention away from the ice. The Giant Kobold wasn't here. The troll wasn't here. Mr. Bear was dead. Well that was a shame and meant Hefeydd had a couple more stops to make before it got dark. He knew of two other places he could easily reach today. Mr. Bear had let him down and he wasn't going to trust everything to the centaurs.

Just up ahead Castus heard the vanguard, such as it was, coming to a halt. He wanted to call to them. Find out if they were okay. But to do so would give away his own position. Instead, slowly and painstakingly, he and the others made their way forwards. They had arrows at the ready, all three of them. All it would take now was for that fairy to fly down or trick them somehow and they could very easily end up shooting their own people by mistake. Now there was a thought. He had heard of a centaur being driven mad, within the last century, by fairies who had taken a disliking to him. He had been a great warrior but had been tricked into making many grievous mistakes, ending with him slaying his own wife. Fairies. Castus couldn't help but spit at the thought. If this was the case then that fairy would find them harder targets. Castus knew things about this forest, things that would terrify even the fearless little folk. There was a sudden crashing sound from up ahead, some kind of explosion of sound that rang out through the forest. Birds took to wing all around them, fleeing from whatever had made the noise. A terrible roar followed, chased by the sounds of surprised cries from the throats of his own people. Stealth forgotten Castus charged forwards, his companions following suit. The scene ahead was one of chaos and confusion. There was chunks of ice everywhere, ranging from the size of a head to much, much larger pieces. There was a mound of meat, massive in size but bloody and ragged, just to the other side of a troll. A troll? There was a troll that lived in these parts, that was true enough. But it had always been on peaceful terms with his people. They kept well away from each other and were all much happier for it. Now, though, this one seemed to be in a hell of a rage. It had a block of ice in it's hands the size of a boulder and was just bringing it down… Onto Arabis. The veteran tried to back out of the way but had been caught by surprise. He was crushed, the sound of bones breaking and snapping filling the air. His cry of pain was short. The troll had already brought the boulder of ice down for a second blow and this one silenced Castus' old friend. The foal made a noble attempt at skewering the troll but was instead caught by a back hand blow that sent him stumbling to the side. Castus and the others loosed their arrows, drawing another and firing again. They repeated this,  again and again as it drew closer to them.

Hefeydd considered the time that was left in the day and what he could accomplish with that time. He had covered quite a lot of distance and didn't hear the sounds of fighting, though he did notice the birds flocking away. That was curious. If this had to continue until tomorrow, depending on the distance the Giant Kobold could cover, and the amount of time it would need to rest… The calculations fell apart in Hefeydd's mind. It wasn't his strong suit. He would just have to wing it and see what would happen. He knew of a spriggan not too far away from here that was indebted to Hefeydd already. That would come in handy, but he wouldn't be able to reach him until tomorrow. Then there were the dryads… Other animals of the forest were out of the question after Mr. Bear's failure. There was something else that lived in a cave, though… Yes, that could work. Deeper into the forest there were even nastier surprises. Hefeydd didn't want to go that far alone, though. If his fairy friends didn't arrive, would he risk it? He was the First Night, second only to one in the fairy court! He had no reason to be afraid! Why, then, did he feel nervous? He would see the spriggan in the morning and get some advice. Yes, that's what he would do. Up ahead, though, was the glade he needed. He could feel the well of power there already.

Hefeydd landed in the center of the glade, right up against the old tree that stood there all by itself. How lonely it must be for Mr. Tree all alone. Hefeydd would fix that, though. He knew the truth about Mr. Tree, oh yes he did. He called upon magic of the earth, bringing fresh roots forth from the older ones as he whispered encouragement to Mr. Tree. He spoke with him for almost an hour before he moved, having drawn forth whatever he needed from the earth to awaken himself. Two large black eyes opened slowly and limbs shook themselves off. The spirit that lived in the tree, animating the mighty oak was very old. Older than the tree itself and that had been alive longer than Hefeydd! Many centuries! Oh, Mr. Tree knew things. And he would be angry at what was happening to his friends, not too far away. Too bad for Hefeydd, Mr. Tree wouldn't be able to catch up with the Giant Kobold until early the next morning. That meant he needed to arrange another surprise for tonight. He spoke for a while longer with Mr. Tree and took his leave, looking for the giant spiders.

Hefeydd drifted a few globes of light around him as he moved, their pattern random so that nobody would figure out where he was all safe and snug and hidden in his shadows. He hated the spiders, that was true enough. They always tried to catch him in their webs! Today had been no different, despite the fact that he had given them a very good deal. He knew of another group of humans, hunting near the forest. He could draw them in so easily to those sticky webs of theirs. They had agreed, of course. There was much more blood inside the humans than in little Hefeydd. But they were spiteful monsters. Oh yes they were. He could hear their chittering and scuttling as they made their way through the trees in search of their prey. They would find the Giant Kobold tonight, lay their traps. Kill him? Hopefully. 

It hissed with frustration as it watched the proceedings. Awakening that spirit… How bothersome. The reptile would need to deal with it. It wouldn't risk itself in a confrontation with that. The troll had sated it's anger, killing all but one of the centaurs and then dragging back all it could carry to it's cave. That was two disturbances dealt with. It would watch the centaur that had survived closely. 

Girshu stretches himself out, trying to get the out discomfort of the rough ground he had slept on. It seemed that none of his alert spells or frost runes had gone off. Which was good, because it both meant that nothing had tried to attack him and that he hadn’t slept through the blaring alarm and the literal frost explosions that they caused. From the other hand, it was a waste of energy to lay this many of them when he wouldn’t be disturbed all night long.

But, it was definitely a warranted expense of energy. Even though it was now much less likely, there was still the chance that the spellcaster and their familiar were following him. Or the troll, though that was much less likely. The beast was stupid and direct, and thus unlikely to give chase at all. He had the bear, and Girshu was probably already nearly or completely out of his territory.

Girshu gathers his belongings and then slithers over the circles of runes. Should he drain them? The amount of energy would be paltry, but existent. And it was good form to not leave these death traps lying about for an unaware wanderer to walk into. Girshu laughs at his own joke. Good form, peh! Stupid human traditions. No, he’d leave the runes for anyone who would be following him. The energy would only last for a few more hours anyway, so only someone stalking him would run into them. Girshu reactivates the runes, which he temporarily disabled to leave the centre where he had slept, and the light blue runes fade into invisibility.

That would be a nice surprise for whomever would follow him. Which was probably no one at this point. Yesterday’s problems with the humans, the spellcaster, the bear and the troll, they were yesterday’s problems. Today would probably be like the week before again, uneventful and simple.

***

Castus jumps up, gasping for air and drenched in cold sweat. Sweat, and blood. His own, he hoped. Yes, most of it was, probably. The wound on his head was still throbbing, and the other wounds weren’t feeling too great either. But he could still feel that some of the blood belonged to one of the fawns. Young Beolen. Too much of the foal's blood was shed upon him when the troll has struck the poor youngster.

The troll had slain them all, and they had been powerless to do anything against the monster’s regenerative abilities. It had been mad with rage, and they had been too overtaken by surprise and the beast’s brute assault to react in time. If Castus would’ve been there just a few more moments earlier, perhaps he could’ve called for a retreat in time. If they would’ve all been veterans, then the command wouldn’t even have been necessary. Because with their weapons, without either fire or acid to use, they stood no chance against the troll at all.

But no, the foals didn’t realize that they should’ve fled, and the veterans couldn’t leave the foals to their fate. It was only because Castus was the only one left, that he had eventually fled. The wound on his head had prevented him from going far, but his tenacity had fortunately pulled him through just far enough to get away from the troll. Just far enough before he had fallen unconscious. He lived, though barely.

Castus forces himself to get up. He had to… to…

What did he have to do again? He knew that he would have to return to his people, and that he had to do something about their quarry, but…

The quarry? Their hunt? It wasn’t the troll. It was a lizard of some sort. But Castus couldn’t get a visual image of the beast, of what they were hunting. Why? Because… Oh right, he had never even seen this prey of theirs. But that wasn’t what was urgent, what he had to do. He had to-

Castus notices the man standing nearby and quickly turns to them in a startle.That was right, this man's appearance had instinctively woken him up and got him to high alert.

The man seems a bit boyish and at the same time very old, with his grey hair and wrinkled skin. The skin was grey too, and riddled in black veins. The man’s eyes were black with bloodshot irises, with broken and bend glasses still hanging from his nose, and black ichor drooped from his mouth and ears. His leg stood out, being swollen and bloated where the rest of his body seemed shriveled.

The man makes a gesture, and Castus watched in horror at this monstrous deformation of a man. It seemed like the kind of horror that might crawl out of one of the dungeons that human civilisations could leave behind when they fell. The man, more annoyed this time, repeats the gesture. Then, he seems to realize something and he produces a cracked and wheezing voice.

“Oh, you’re. Not dead yet? Are you?”

Castus backs away warily. This man was a monstrosity, even worse than the frost beast that they were following before. Behind the man, the forest was withering from the blight.

“My mistake. You look even. Worse off than me. Surprised that you’re. Even alive with. Those wounds. But worry. Not, I’ll fix that. Real quick.”

Figures appear from the darkness behind the man. Castus’s eyes water up when he sees the foals and Ramean stumble towards him. They too were drooping with black ichor and covered in black veins, but there were clearly not conscious and sentient like this man. No, just like the humans that were walking with them, they were but zombies now. Only Arabis was missing, probably damaged too badly to be raised.

“Don’t worry, centaur. You will serve. Your purpose as. Hunter well. I too seek. The damnable cold. Lizard that you hunted. Left me for. Dead. I’ll leave him for dead. Forever. As my thrall.”

“But first. You.”

Castus quickly dashes away, as fast as his wound allow him. The wound on his temple immediately begins to throb as his blood begins to rush, but he bears it. He was strong, and his wounds weren’t as bad as he thought. Guess that a lot of the blood was Beolen’s after all.

***

The ancient spirit walked in the path of frost, slow and lumbering. The fairy was right, this creature was a menace to the forest and easy to track because of it. It was a being worth his time to hunt down and exterminate.

In the tree’s path, the forest was slowly recovering. Magical energy usually reserved to protect the forest and its inhabitants from winter and wake them up from its frosty touch in spring was sprinkled thinly over the lizard’s path. It wouldn’t completely heal the forest, but it would give these trees a fighting chance.

And the path before the great tree’s arrival would remain as it was, unfortunately. Animating himself like this required a lot of energy, more than he could spare for a hike. Other forest protectors like the dryads might see to its repair, though.

The great old spirit senses frost magic ahead. Unnatural cryomancy, not related to the winter. To think that even the foul unseelie court’s magical touch would be preferable, it was quite incriminating to this creature.

He implores the trees around the clearing to scutter away for a bit when he comes across three circles of magic. Traps, a lot of them. Not lethal to him, but they'd slow him down and certainly bother him. They were undetectable to others who looked with their eyes, but obvious to one who saw with their mind and surroundings. He felt the slight effect that the frost had on the grass it was written on, invisible or not. He wouldn’t fall for these traps, instead he would just go around them.

The trees that moved to make way for him return to their original positions as if the old spirit had never passed, and the spirit continues its path. Its focus briefly turns to somewhere else, catching a whiff of something of a whole different evil. Something familiar, but he wasn’t sure what and why.

It quickly hid its presence again, however, clearly not keen on being noticed. The spirit decides to ignore it for now, and focus on the other intruder.

***

Zachery looks at the centaur gallop away quickly, and his undead begin to give chase. One of the centaurs, the bigger and buff one, stops near him. Zachery climbs onto its back and it begins to ride. These creatures were a lucky find, walking with his disproportionate leg is awful. To think that he would be the one slowing the horde down, despite being just as unyielding and untiring as the rest. They had marched all night, but barely caught up with the lizard.

Zachery looks at his withered hand as he and his undead march forwards. Withered and weak. So ugly. So imperfect.

He had worked towards this transformation for so long. Studied necromancy and gathered the ingredients needed for his rebirth for so long. Saved up money working that ungrateful alchemist job for so long, saving for the money that he needed.

So many months he needed to work before he saved up all the advance payments of those men he hired to protect him from the dangers of Virens forest. And in the end they were all useless, nay, a burden to him. Especially the quack who claimed to know all the dangers of Virens and the ways around them. He was the most expensive one of them, and one of the least useful.

Yet here he was. Thwarted one ingredient before he would’ve finished the potion. One damned rare flower before he would be a necromancer. And what a powerful necromancer he would’ve been. He might’ve blighted the whole forest before anyone could’ve stopped him.

This form, this despicable form, was so much weaker. So much uglier. Its transformation didn’t just lack that last ingredient, but it lacked all the rituals and proper ways of applying. If Zachery had performed it back at home, he would've been so much stronger. But this, this was a sloppy, accidental, hasty and desperate transformation that just as easily could’ve killed him.

He didn’t know what beast had led him and the buffoons he hired astray, what kind of being had seen to preventing his glorious rise to power. But he knew that the lizard had seen him in his most dire hour and completely ignored him, despite not knowing of Zachery’s true intentions. If only he would’ve helped Zachery even a bit, then this form could’ve been so much better. But the beast had left him to rot, for the crows to feast on.

He would see to it that the lizard would suffer. And after him, this whole damned forest.

For a moment, Zachery wonders whether he should go get that bear corpse. It was a powerful beast, much more ferocious and powerful than these centaurs. Bigger too, which meant he could lay his leg to rest on it more easily.

But no, the bear was already being dragged away by the troll when they arrived. And Zachery didn’t have enough zombies to spare against such a beast yet. Not that it would be worth the effort, trolls could even regenerate back from being zombified. Nah, let the monster have the dead beast.

***

Girshu slithers on, ever following the sun that guided his path. He’d leave this forest eventually. And he was in no rush, considering his newly filled rations and proper water supply.

Yes, things were going smoothly. Not a cloud in the sky and not a problem in the air.

***

One of the spiders clicks to the other spider in their strange arachnoid language. There was something coming, presumably their prey. He felt it coming from straight ahead.

The other spider felt it too just moments later, his webs being pulled very softly by the creature’s movements when it moved past. It was approaching, headed straight for them.

The spider quickly pulls some strings to alert the rest of their brood, drawing them all to their location and letting them know the distance and movement speed of their prey. They would envelop the lizard-like being in a circle formation and attack from all sides.

Yes, the fairy’s demands would be met. The humans that the annoying critter had given them were very tasty and full of blood, and the only demand that he had made was for them to hunt down and kill yet another beast wandering around. More blood for their queen, good. The next generation would be healthy and strong.

The first spider clicks to the second, saying it was about time that the creature showed up. The fairy had said that the lizard would be here tonight. Or was it that they should’ve attacked the lizard at night? Neither remembered, the humanoid languages were so vague.

Unbeknownst to both, the confusion lied in that they were supposed to creep up on the lizard, rather than the other way around. Something that their language didn’t even have words for, as spiders would always set traps and lie in wait. Going towards another creature, potentially falling for its traps, and then fighting fair and square was a foolish idea to them. Even if the creature was asleep.

But it wouldn’t matter. Between the webs, the venom and their physical weapons, the spiders would bring this creature down. It stood no chance.

Something pulls the strings again, something much bigger. The first spider quickly clicks to the other, who feels the massive pull too at the same moment.

Something else was coming, and it was big. And strong. They instinctively knew what it was, it was the great and powerful tree spirit. Its essence was conducted through their silk, as a greeting. They were not to interfere with it, not even their queen would. Not that it had any blood to consume anyway, so it didn’t matter to them. But they would avoid its path.

The spiders quickly pull their webs to inform the others, who respond in kind with knowledge that they shouldn’t engage it.

With that said and done, the first spider returns his attention to the first prey. What were they doing again? That’s right, an enveloping maneuver.

The second spider clicks to the first, saying that this creature felt unnatural. Too cold. Poisonous, in a way that they couldn’t digest.

The first spider thinks and agrees, the blood of this creature would kill rather than sustain them. They shouldn’t hunt this creature for its blood.

The first spider stops to think for a moment, feeling like he was forgetting something. The first prey, the big spirit, the enveloping maneuver, something about a fairy. The fairy thing was the oldest, and thus starting to fade from his memory. He only had room for three subjects at the same time, after all. Their queen was the one with the long-term memory.

What did a fairy matter, though? It barely had any blood to suck. They had recently caught a few humans, which fed the queen royally. Their next generation would be strong and healthy.

The creature that was approaching felt cold, unnatural. That’s right, it was probably poisonous to them. The first spider pulls some strings to tell this to his brothers, to break off the enveloping maneuver. They’d let the first creature through, then quickly make way for the big spirit, and then restore their barrier.

It was a strange place for them to set up an ambush though. So random and far away from their nest, beyond even the communication strings to their queen. It was surprising that there was even one creature, let alone two, going through this specific spot. Would there maybe be a third for them to catch? The spider didn’t know, he trusted his queen to have thought of that.

And if they would have to return, the queen would send another spider to tell them this. Until then, he and his brothers would stay here as she commanded. He quickly begins to unfurl and untangle the spider webs that were spun to catch any passerby. They wouldn’t want to catch the poisonous cold creature in it, for it would break their traps and give away their ambush to other prey. And they certainly didn’t want to be in the great spirits way once it would arrive.

***

Girshu slithers on, completely unaware of the now disabled spider traps he slithered through. Completely unaware of the sets of eight eyes staring at him from the shadows. The spiders had no ill intend to him, and thus didn’t set off any instinctive alarms of bloodlust or stalking up on him.

Still confident that today would be a calm and uneventful day, Girshu continues traveling further eastward.

Hefeydd yawned, stretching up as tall as he could and surveying his surroundings. He had fallen asleep at some point, but before that he had been doing something… Working on something… What had that been? Scratching at his hairless chin he walked along the branch he had fallen asleep on, using his wings to help him balance as he approached an apple, hanging right there, begging to be eaten. Oh yes, Hefeydd would help with that, yes he would. He grew to his full impressive height of ten inches tall and grabbed the huge apple, twisting and tugging at it until it came loose. Too late he forgot he would need to use magic to strengthen himself if he had a hope of holding onto it, instead watching it sail down to the ground below. Curses. Now he would have to go down and get it… A tiny shape, followed quickly by another and another dashed out of nowhere and swarmed over the apple. Hefeydd puffed up his chest and jumped off the branch. Oh, he wasn't going to be taking this! He could see what they were, even from here! Scavengers! That's what they were! Waiting for others to let something slip and then pulling it apart. Hefeydd landed loudly behind them and all the naughty little forest sprites turned as one to look at him.

"That's MY apple! Hands off!" he cried out in his high little voice. The sprites began to back away, they were like little fairies really and Hefeydd shouldn't have been shouting at them. But for some reason he was feeling a little cranky right now. Why was that? What was he forgetting? The bravest of the sprites stepped forwards and looked down shyly. "But… But sir, you said you had need of us and would get us an apple…" Oh. Well… Did he? That certainly didn't sound like something he would do. Why would he need the help of sprites when there should be real fairies around here somewhere? Hadn't he been waiting for fairies to come find him? Weren't they meant to be helping him do… Something? He pulled at his silver hair and tried hard to think. What was he forgetting? And why would he have promised to feed these little people? They must have made a bargain with him. He would need to be clever about this, he didn't want to be tricked into something. He needed to channel all his craftiness into his next question so that he wouldn't reveal how lost and confused he really was. "What… Did I ask you to do?" Perfect. Genius. Hefeydd was proud of himself. He had done it! The sprites didn't seem to care too much about the question, though. "Ah, well, you said you were having trouble with a kobold and your own people weren't around." It all came rushing back to him, then.

Castus had been running all night. He was exhausted, disoriented and he was starting to suspect that he wasn't going to make it much further. He had lost his weapons and couldn't remember where. The undead menace had terrified him, reminding him of the stories he had been brought up on of things that lay deep within the forest. He had thought the fairy's tale of a dangerous lizard was bad enough, and then the troll had decimated his hunting party. Now there was a necromancer loose within the forest, corrupting everything it touched. So many things were going wrong right now, so many dangers that his people needed to be warned about. By now they would know about the lizard but they would have no idea what else was lurking about. He needed to get back but to do that he would need help. Right now, though, he had no idea what to do. He was far from home, and getting further. If he was right about where he was then he was pretty close to the outskirts of the forest. Within a week of it, even. His injuries and the lack of sleep were trying him, making it hard to concentrate, hard to come up with a plan. There was a druid, not far from here. A wise old man who had made this area his home. Perhaps he would have some ideas. Perhaps he would be able to do something about his wounds, too.

Hefeydd gave strict orders to all the sprites,having them scatter once he was done. He needed them to send messages, give orders. They were his own little fleet of messengers. He didn't ask them what else he had promised the night before, he was sure he would remember it soon enough. Maybe he had even written it down, had it somewhere in his robes. Not that he was going to look for it right now. He had a satyr to find, first of all. The satyrs were a good people, always happy to help the little folk. There was a smart one around here who still owed Hefeydd. He had been meaning to come back here and make demands of him before now but now he needed it he was happy he had forgotten. Hefeydd smiled. Fate, yes? 

When Hefeydd came across the old satyr he was drinking and playing around with some dryads. This was actually quite perfect. Dryads were nice and friendly too, but could be relied upon to help Hefeydd out. He landed in the center of the glade, ready to make his bargains.

Girshu glares at his enemy, wary of its unpredictable nature and its sharp claws. This was certainly going to be his most serious opponent today, and one that might wound him dearly if he wasn't careful.

The wild badger bears its teeth at Girshu and its claws scrape over the ground that he was standing on. Nasty critters, they were. Their claws were just sharp enough to give the kind of papercut that would be soooo annoying all day. Girshu clicked his own claws against one another, ready to strike back. He wasn't going to use any magic here, not when this badger would certainly be his ownly true enemy encounter today. The only moment of change and eventfulness in the otherwise monotone travels that his days would once again be reduced to.

The badger screeches and Girshu lunges forwards. The badger tries to retreat and run away, but Girshu is just a bit too fast and grabs it by the tail. The badger scratches at his claws and screams fearfully, its defiant nature immediately gone once it couldn't intimidate the much bigger and more dangerous foe into leaving, but it's in vain. Girshu grabs the creature by the neck and his cold radiates into the warmblooded critter. And then it wasn't warm-blooded any more.

Girshu looks at the fur. Simple and motley, not even worth the weight. He flays the badger without concern for the pelt and soon extracts the better parts of the meat from it. Taking out some of the bear meat, Girshu sits down and has some late breakfast. The badger meat replaces the eaten bear meat, and Girshu quickly brushes off any leftover frozen meat from his robes and skin. The bloody stains that were once the badger are left for what they are, for the vultures to pick clean. Girshu wouldn't concern himself with that folly.

They were probably already around, ready to fight over the scraps once he would leave. He had already heard the crows caw, and there were presumably also other vultures about.

Girshu looks up, frowning. That's right, he had heard crows before. And the rustling of wind. And sound in general. But now, now it was quiet. Too quiet.

As Girshu becomes wary with all his instincts on high alert, he looks around and heightens his awareness of his surroundings. He feels some strange tremours in the ground, but hears nothing. As in, nothing. Literally nothing.

A shadow suddenly grows from his peripheral and quickly spreads out to cover his own shadow wholly, casting a looming presence over Girshu. The tremours that got louder with each vibration stopped, and for a moment there's nothing but silent.

Slowly, warily, in fact a bit scared and intimidated, Girshu turns around.

A great tree stands behind him. One that was definately not there before, nor the kind of tree that Girshu would forget. Something that looks vaguely like a human face is staring right at him, though so unmoving that he was unsure whether it was truly a face.

Girshu's lips depart, forming some words. But he says nothing. He doesn't even produce a whiff. He then frowns and says something else. "Ah, an area of silence spell. That's how a tree managed to sneak up on me." He thinks while his mouth forms the words that he doesn't speak out loud.

The tree's branches raise. Girshu gets up. The branches slam down with clear intend of him being between them and the ground. Girshu forms some unspoken words.

The ground trembles as Girshu dodges the initial attack warily, splinters and pebbles flying around from the massive force of great violence, but all of that in complete silence. Unnerving silence. Girshu quickly gets back up and turns to the tree. He throws frost at it, and the aura around the tree seems to brighten. A strange sensation that he can only describe as spring weather radiates from the tree and seems to interact with the frost, weakening it. It doesn't seem to affect it fully, and the attack is therefore not completely nullified. Snow flakes and condensation form on the tree, but the damage is far from the severity of the intended attack. Against a large tree like this one, such paltry damage wasn't going to do anything.

Girshu curses, which is of course censored by the absolute silence, and looks around. There was not much room around, and he could see the roots and branches of other trees move slowly. This tree was clearly weaponising them against him, which would make it very problematic if Girshu would take some distance from the centre problem. But his magics were massively inhibited by this stupid area of silence, as his more potent spells all required verbal components to be cast.

And the stupid anti-winter enchantments weren't in his favour either. Stupid magical tree.

Girshu turns to the big tree and runs forwards, increasing the frost in his claws to create shivering touches and icy claws. The tree lashes out at him, putting a nasty gash on Girshu's cheek but otherwise being relatively easy to dodge. Its attacks were devastatingly powerful, but a tree was still a tree. Slow. If Girshu was more manuevrable and dexterious himself, this foe would be no challenge.

With his freezing claws ready to strike, Girshu jumps onto the tree. At this distance, that stupid anti-cold aura should be worth nothing. He could feel it flare up and burn his skin with the sensation of a pleasant spring day, but his frost was definately doing more damage. Frostbite quickly formed where his claws were embedded and the cold of his touch was bypassing the aura and reaching into the core of the tree.

The tree didn't shiver or react, however. Girshu couldn't hear if there was an audible reaction, but he could feel none. Damn it, this thing was probably animated. And if it was animated, it didn't have vitals or a sense of preservation. Which immediately changed a lot of things. Girshu had assumed that the tree wouldn't bash into his own trunk, but…

Just in time, Girshu lets go of the tree and jumps away. A big branch leaves a dent in the trunk and a few splinters pierce into Girshu as splash damage. Girshu scuttles away awkwardly to get some distance. Damn it, those attacks could be single hit fatalities if he wasn't careful. And in a match of brute force and atropy, this thing would certainly hvae him beat. Forget about the other trees, Girshu had to get some distance from this damned foe.

Girshu starts to run away as fast as he can, firing at the ground in front of him with frost to harm the roots before they can harm him. The tree immediately gives pursuit, not letting him get away that easily.

……damnitdamn itdamn it damn it damn it damn it!!!

Oh, I'm out of the silence zone. That's something, I guess. Next thing on the agenda; not die.