Alas, the peace was not to last long. The storm was a blow through and, while intense, did not linger, carried aloft on the Vatyn's strong trade winds. That meant that the caravan was ready to pack up and descend the gnarled switchbacks along the route Ulric had been scouting before his ill-fated encounter with the wild life.
It was a half round of the Twins' dance before the train of wagons, carts, and walking refugee Elves reached the descent. Looking down at it, Ulric was certainly not going to second guess the decision to only attempt that in the daylight and without rain. The trail was narrow, the falls precipitous, and their cargo soft and squishy. A rollover would kill all hands aboard. That said, they were willing to take their time and make their way down from the highlands into the verdant coastal forest and meadows that awaited below. Taipan informed him from her seat upon a wagon that, in clearer atmosphere, one might be able to just see the impression of the city to which they were headed from atop that plateau. Ulric didn't doubt her, but then, she had better eyes than he.
Painstaking, would be the way he described the climb down. The draft beasts employed by the minions of Prospers little house of horrors camps were not like the [Direhorn Oxen] he'd been forced to deal with on his little adventure, they were far more docile and less skittish. Thankfully, without the goats around to cause trouble, there was no obstacle that presented itself other than the terrain and the party thusly made a safe, if slow, passage. That was not to say it was without incident, however.
Ulric, a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the mid-morning sunlight, had observed smoke about thirty kilometers out. The group was about a third of the way from the bottom of their journey towards that approaching tree line, and the gentle roll of small humps of hill upon which that forest rode.
Turning to address his mate, he looked for a second opinion to verify his suspicions.
"Lass, that smoke is from people, and those people probably shouldn't be out this far from the city." Ulric stated, his question implied.
They didn't stop the caravan's movement, the worst possible thing that could happen was to be caught in the open on this steep descent. Going back up was not an option, it'd take all damned day to climb those switchbacks.
From her position, he watched the elegant features of his Shadow screw up in concentration as she considered the situation.
"Trouble, Ulric Glade Chief," assessed the former Huntress, chewing her cheek, "It is an encampment of some kind, I can make out no fewer than six different tributary fires contributing to that pillar."
Shit. This was basically exactly what they were worried about, running into some kind of armed force before they could evacuate the refugee Elves. Especially now, with Taipan all gimped up.
"Okay, well, this is a patch of bad luck and no doubt about it," Ulric stated the obvious in a low voice next to his partner's thigh as he walked close to her wagon, "But it doesn't truly change what we need to do just right now. First priority is getting off this goat path and getting into the cover of that forest."
Taipan's nod affirmed the strategy and she made the hand sign for "agreed" to emphasize the point. Tactically, there was absolutely nothing they could do about much of anything if they were spotted on this open ground.
Not much but lichen, moss, and asshole goats called the cliffsides home, especially since the [Thunderhorn Sheep] were committed to headbutting any intruders off the side of it. Ulric hadn't spotted anymore of the things at close range but small herds of the sonsofbitches were easy to see clambering around in the distance. The little ones might even be sort of cute, appearing to gallivant around as kids do, little flashes of light accompanying their juvenile thumps of horns as they played. But Ulric knew what they would grow into and wanted no part of the damned things. Given the lack of anything else on their rocky traversal, the wagons would stand out like a sore thumb. Blessed be the season, the thick leafy tree tops hiding them from those below their boughs.
Word was passed back down the length of the caravan about the obstacle ahead but no other sign did the travelers make that they'd observed the newest trouble to come, they had problems enough not falling off the narrow trail. Perhaps the Orlethrem had earned a patch of luck, a sign of favor from the heavens for their sufferings and plight, because nothing untoward happened and the refugees made the safety of the trees below in good order. Everyone allowed themselves some relief, once they'd passed into the shade of the leaves.
"Whew," Ulric commented, letting go a breath felt like it had been held for hours, "I did not need that anxiety in mine life."
He got a scrub of strong fingers through his lengthening hair for his troubles, a gesture of comfort from her Ladyship Taipan.
"It was a pathfinding well done, Ulric," the Iriel'en woman praised, "The slope was difficult but you got us down cleanly. Perhaps in no small part thanks to your clearing the path of our horned troublemakers aforehand."
She said that last with a smirking grin though so he knew he'd not be hearing the last of his close encounters of the goat kind from her. It was too easy a ribbing. Still, accolades from the master scout were rare and he'd take what he could get.
Taking the petting hand in his own and kissing the back of it once to acknowledge her, he took his leave of the wagons to do a survey of the immediate vicinity. Just because nothing had bothered them on the climb didn't mean it wouldn't down here in the forest. Varda sprinkled ravenous beasts about her landscape like paprika in a chili. A healthy dose, for flavor. Hand on his sword's hilt, the up and coming [Lord of the Ancient Glade] canvassed these rather dainty trees.
For once, this area almost paralleled what he knew of the forests on old Earth. The mix of evergreen, rough barked pine-like trunks in stands of a dozen or so interspersed with lobe leafed, smooth barked arbors that reminded him greatly of the venerable oak. Other species dappled the gentle hills, filling out a thriving environment that provided a thick detritus of leaves over top of a sandy soil, blessedly free of rocks. Ulric had just about had enough of trodding about exposed stone for a little while. The soft ground beneath his thinning boots felt wonderful in comparison.
Idly, he noticed that he was going to be in need of a fresh set of boots soon, the kilometers had not been gentle to his feet.
A twig broke not far away and he froze instantly, eyes scanning ahead towards the source of the sound. Adrenaline spiked immediately and he was in full predator focus to find the creature or person that had not so far away disturbed the peace of the wood.
He remained stock still. Anything out there would have an easier time spotting movement and, while his dark armor wasn't exactly camouflage, it wasn't particularly attention grabbing either. Hell, with his bestial helmet, it wasn't impossible something might, from a distance and through thick undergrowth, mistake him for part of the local fauna.
No further sound issued forth but Ulric didn't move. It was a thing Taipan had instructed. Trust your instincts, but do not allow them to overrule reason, especially not when an enemy may be present. Prey flushes, but the predator remains calm. Her wisdom proved correct, five minutes of patient waiting were rewarded by the jostle of low limbs and big fern leaves that declared the presence of whatever had spooked him. Whoever, or whatever, it was had resumed its movement, stalking quietly enough to signal to Ulric that it was up to no good.
The thing about many herbivores was that they weren't trying to sneak up on anybody, given that their food didn't run away. At least on Varda, not very often. Which means they typically don't care about making a little noise, especially in a herd. No, Ulric was fairly certain by the stop and go pattern of disturbance he saw ahead that its source was, in fact, hunting something.
Carefully, very carefully, the Elf trained one time woodsman of Earth slipped into the shadow of the unknown hunter and began to trail it. He'd come a long way in this game since his abrupt arrival, honing himself against young Brighteyes first, and then his far more proficient sister later. The difference between hunter and hunted was a fine thing, dancing on a razor's edge at times. One mistake was all it took to hand your target the information it needed to turn the tables and Ulric was determined not to give anything away.
In the spirit of this, he had not employed his [Ceraunoperception] to pierce the veil of undergrowth ahead. It was a subtle thing but Taipan said she could feel the pulses as a slight prickle on her skin at close range and he didn't want to give even that much away. Besides, now that he was directly behind the target he could follow it easily enough, even if he hadn't laid eyes on it directly.
Soon enough, that situation rectified itself. A small clearing ahead, at the bottom of one of the small hills there was a spring, small pool of crystalline clear water away from which burbled a tiny creek. Into that clearing stepped a red-haired human man wearing knee high leather boots, hard soled and uncommon for any who frequented the wilds. It was likely those hard soled boots that gave him away, despite his obvious attempts at being stealthy. The boots weren't what had Ulric's attention though, no, it was it his coat. A long heavy black trench coat with which Ulric was intimately familiar. That coat marked the adept mages of Prosper, their personal wizards and officers of the gilded empire. Mages who took coin to do murder as a bonus to their wages.
At the sight of the mage, Ulric's core spun up, cycling lightning in a deathly chase readying power to obliterate his enemy. Positive separated from negative, two poles forming at his will, separated yet yearning to become one again. The capacitance grew as Ulric channeled the magic, preparing to funnel his strength into a set of lightning bolts that would turn the mage, and his general vicinity, into a fulminating heap of ash and glassed earth.
Stumbling out from the thick brush behind Prosper's agent came a barefoot Catkin in a tattered tunic, bearing a slave collar made of silver metal, golden scrollwork tracing its control runes. Ulric hovered on the brink, a moment sooner and he'd have killed the both of them. Damned close call for the girl, that was. He'd have to wait for her to clear the blast radius before he could deal with the mage. Therefore, he'd stay under cover and keep track of
"Please! Lover! I cannot go farther!" Cried the Catkin woman in a husky, breathless gasp.
She was clearly exhausted, by the sound of her. The mage turned around and, to Ulric's amazement, picked the beastkin girl up in a princess carry and buried his face in her neck length hair, muttering something too muffled and soft for Ulric to make out while the girl giggled quietly.
What the fuck was going on here?
Raising his face, the mage, young looking now that Ulric saw him clearly, told her in muted excitement, "I am sorry, darling, only I cannot believe we've done it! Two years but you're free now, I have the unlocking spell! You will not be found, and never again will you serve those pigs!"
Uhhhhh…okay, Ulric had not been prepared to fall into a romance novel from the Pre-Collapse. Varda was more like a murder mystery with a dash of horror comedy. The jarring sweetness pouring off of the pair did not jive with that coat he was wearing. Prosper's mage core was, to his knowledge, a set of indoctrinated, hate filled fanatics bent on dominating the other races and establishing Prosper as a dynasty in Prespang, and all the continent, if they could manage it. So how the hell had the ginger kid over there ended up clearly head over heels for the cat eared beastkin slave girl?
Running her slightly clawed fingers gently over the youth's face and chest, the Leor girl with her tawny orange fur and burnished orange irises whispered something before hugging the mage tightly. Was this what it was like when Ulric and Taipan were flirting in public? Gross. They were rarely so flagrant in company though. And these two were idiots, the hidden man had decided. Did they have no idea what kind of hilariously dangerous bullshit liked to run around the woodlands? It was a wonder nothing had crept up behind them ready to slay them viciously. You know, sort of like he had been doing just a minute ago, now that he thought about it.
Things had just become complicated. Ulric had a buck and change of Orlethrem refugees, whose presence could not and would not, if he had any say on the matter, be known by Prespang's countrymen and most especially not by any agent of Prosper, including most especially their Magisters, Mages, and/or, armed forces. However, he now had an innocent civilian involved and some kind of unsanctioned dalliance if he was reading this situation correctly. Sure as shit, no self-respecting instrument of the Valin supremacists would be all cuddly with the Beast folk. But here they were.
Alright, think man! Ulric urged himself. He didn't have all godsdamned day, he needed to know what was in this forest and he needed to know what was going on with that encampment. Sitting here in the bushes spying on these love birds was doing neither one.
His ponderings were cut off suddenly.
Crashes through the brush preceded by a half a second a horse sized bird monster that had a jaggedly toothed beak, four legs bearing talons like short swords, and a glittering blue feathers tipped by golden yellow.
"SEEEEER!" Screeched the beast as it launched itself at the pair whose cooing had made them appear vulnerable to ambush.
Ulric was certain he was about to watch the pair mauled while he looked on in shock until one of the oak trees reached out and clubbed the bird from the air with a heavy *whack*.
One hand of the red-haired mage was free and his fingers were weaving eerily as his green eyes stared at the beast. The mage was chanting something that sounded like it might be Latin mixed with Greek and the four-legged eagle was trying to rise when a set of roots from the oak that had smacked it from the air tore up from the ground and wrapped the creature until it looked like a bark flavored mummy, and dragged it, screeching loudly and struggling the entire time, to be interred beneath the trunk of the oak tree.
Holy fuck! Ulric exclaimed to himself.
Aaaalllrriiiighty then, mage was some kind of tree bender. Good to know. The reason he hadn't [Scanned] the mage was the same reason he hadn't used [Ceraunoperception] earlier. When someone used that spell to look up your Akashic life story, you felt that shit for sure. It was a dead giveaway and almost never happened unexpectedly for any good reason.
The Leor girl was now on her own feet, though she remained clutching the mage boy's coat.
"Brodin! A beast! You slew it so bravely, you hero!" Cried the girl with sickening sweetness.
Ulric was going to have to get the fuck out of here or subscribe to insulin. Maybe his notions of the dynamic between men and women was somewhat skewed by extensive interaction with the Elves. Or maybe it was just his relationship with Taipan, which was distinctly alien from anything he'd known in the Before. Who knows? What he did know was that it was time to shit or get off the pot. This pair might be the best lead he could have hoped for to determine what goings on were ahead of him before he went and stuck his stupid face into them.
Readying himself to kill everything generally, just in case, Ulric rose from his hidden crouch and shouted "Ho there! Strangers! I mean no harm! I'm just a man from the Outer Reaches passing through new lands and finding many troubles. Have I come, at last, from the wilderness to civilization?"
The pair swung violently towards him and Ulric could feel through his core the vegetation around sort of come to order, awaiting the will of the plant manipulating Mage. But no fireworks, just yet. The girl's features had drawn back into a feral snarl of fear, which mostly confirmed the pair were not exactly in any danger of running to the authorities.
Hands raised placatingly, Ulric set out to soothe the pair, "Easy goings now, I have no business with Prosper's agents nor any that hold their ear." He started, smooth and even, hoping nobody did anything stupid.
When nothing stupid occurred, he took a few steps nice and slow towards them, very pointedly not reaching for his sword and raising his visor to show his face as he continued to ease them down from their scare.
"In point of fact, I was staying hidden because I recognized the young sir's coat and did not wish to draw attention, not until it seemed that I was mistaken about his alliance." Ulric explained watching for any sign that those trees and vines meant to make things rough for him.
They didn't and the pair relaxed a mite which was great, especially when the trees went back to being just regular old trees.
Pointedly glancing at the most recently weaponized arbors, Ulric addressed the mage directly, "I can't help noticing that you are a mage sanctioned by Prosper, or, at least, you bear the uniform of such. I had not known any of those kind to not be toeing the party line with regards to Otherkin, but, clearly, you are not of the common ilk.”
Hoping that he was right and that there would be no need for violence here, Ulric continued gently “Please, there are others with whom I travel that I will not allow to fall under sway of the Magisters or the aegis of the Golden Thrones. Being that we both have ones who we do not wish to leave exposed to those fat spider's authority, perhaps we can assist one another."
Beastkin girl and ginger mage traded looks and bent to whisper at each other.
Alas, the peace was not to last long. The storm was a blow through and, while intense, did not linger, carried aloft on the Vatyn's strong trade winds. That meant that the caravan was ready to pack up and descend the gnarled switchbacks along the route Ulric had been scouting before his ill-fated encounter with the wild life.
It was a half round of the Twins' dance before the train of wagons, carts, and walking refugee Elves reached the descent. Looking down at it, Ulric was certainly not going to second guess the decision to only attempt that in the daylight and without rain. The trail was narrow, the falls precipitous, and their cargo soft and squishy. A rollover would kill all hands aboard. That said, they were willing to take their time and make their way down from the highlands into the verdant coastal forest and meadows that awaited below. Taipan informed him from her seat upon a wagon that, in clearer atmosphere, one might be able to just see the impression of the city to which they were headed from atop that plateau. Ulric didn't doubt her, but then, she had better eyes than he.
Painstaking, would be the way he described the climb down. The draft beasts employed by the minions of Prospers little house of horrors camps were not like the [Direhorn Oxen] he'd been forced to deal with on his little adventure, they were far more docile and less skittish. Thankfully, without the goats around to cause trouble, there was no obstacle that presented itself other than the terrain and the party thusly made a safe, if slow, passage. That was not to say it was without incident, however.
Ulric, a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the mid-morning sunlight, had observed smoke about thirty kilometers out. The group was about a third of the way from the bottom of their journey towards that approaching tree line, and the gentle roll of small humps of hill upon which that forest rode.
Turning to address his mate, he looked for a second opinion to verify his suspicions.
"Lass, that smoke is from people, and those people probably shouldn't be out this far from the city." Ulric stated, his question implied.
They didn't stop the caravan's movement, the worst possible thing that could happen was to be caught in the open on this steep descent. Going back up was not an option, it'd take all damned day to climb those switchbacks.
From her position, he watched the elegant features of his Shadow screw up in concentration as she considered the situation.
"Trouble, Ulric Glade Chief," assessed the former Huntress, chewing her cheek, "It is an encampment of some kind, I can make out no fewer than six different tributary fires contributing to that pillar."
Shit. This was basically exactly what they were worried about, running into some kind of armed force before they could evacuate the refugee Elves. Especially now, with Taipan all gimped up.
"Okay, well, this is a patch of bad luck and no doubt about it," Ulric stated the obvious in a low voice next to his partner's thigh as he walked close to her wagon, "But it doesn't truly change what we need to do just right now. First priority is getting off this goat path and getting into the cover of that forest."
Taipan's nod affirmed the strategy and she made the hand sign for "agreed" to emphasize the point. Tactically, there was absolutely nothing they could do about much of anything if they were spotted on this open ground.
Not much but lichen, moss, and asshole goats called the cliffsides home, especially since the [Thunderhorn Sheep] were committed to headbutting any intruders off the side of it. Ulric hadn't spotted anymore of the things at close range but small herds of the sonsofbitches were easy to see clambering around in the distance. The little ones might even be sort of cute, appearing to gallivant around as kids do, little flashes of light accompanying their juvenile thumps of horns as they played. But Ulric knew what they would grow into and wanted no part of the damned things. Given the lack of anything else on their rocky traversal, the wagons would stand out like a sore thumb. Blessed be the season, the thick leafy tree tops hiding them from those below their boughs.
Word was passed back down the length of the caravan about the obstacle ahead but no other sign did the travelers make that they'd observed the newest trouble to come, they had problems enough not falling off the narrow trail. Perhaps the Orlethrem had earned a patch of luck, a sign of favor from the heavens for their sufferings and plight, because nothing untoward happened and the refugees made the safety of the trees below in good order. Everyone allowed themselves some relief, once they'd passed into the shade of the leaves.
"Whew," Ulric commented, letting go a breath felt like it had been held for hours, "I did not need that anxiety in mine life."
He got a scrub of strong fingers through his lengthening hair for his troubles, a gesture of comfort from her Ladyship Taipan.
"It was a pathfinding well done, Ulric," the Iriel'en woman praised, "The slope was difficult but you got us down cleanly. Perhaps in no small part thanks to your clearing the path of our horned troublemakers aforehand."
She said that last with a smirking grin though so he knew he'd not be hearing the last of his close encounters of the goat kind from her. It was too easy a ribbing. Still, accolades from the master scout were rare and he'd take what he could get.
Taking the petting hand in his own and kissing the back of it once to acknowledge her, he took his leave of the wagons to do a survey of the immediate vicinity. Just because nothing had bothered them on the climb didn't mean it wouldn't down here in the forest. Varda sprinkled ravenous beasts about her landscape like paprika in a chili. A healthy dose, for flavor. Hand on his sword's hilt, the up and coming [Lord of the Ancient Glade] canvassed these rather dainty trees.
For once, this area almost paralleled what he knew of the forests on old Earth. The mix of evergreen, rough barked pine-like trunks in stands of a dozen or so interspersed with lobe leafed, smooth barked arbors that reminded him greatly of the venerable oak. Other species dappled the gentle hills, filling out a thriving environment that provided a thick detritus of leaves over top of a sandy soil, blessedly free of rocks. Ulric had just about had enough of trodding about exposed stone for a little while. The soft ground beneath his thinning boots felt wonderful in comparison.
Idly, he noticed that he was going to be in need of a fresh set of boots soon, the kilometers had not been gentle to his feet.
A twig broke not far away and he froze instantly, eyes scanning ahead towards the source of the sound. Adrenaline spiked immediately and he was in full predator focus to find the creature or person that had not so far away disturbed the peace of the wood.
He remained stock still. Anything out there would have an easier time spotting movement and, while his dark armor wasn't exactly camouflage, it wasn't particularly attention grabbing either. Hell, with his bestial helmet, it wasn't impossible something might, from a distance and through thick undergrowth, mistake him for part of the local fauna.
No further sound issued forth but Ulric didn't move. It was a thing Taipan had instructed. Trust your instincts, but do not allow them to overrule reason, especially not when an enemy may be present. Prey flushes, but the predator remains calm. Her wisdom proved correct, five minutes of patient waiting were rewarded by the jostle of low limbs and big fern leaves that declared the presence of whatever had spooked him. Whoever, or whatever, it was had resumed its movement, stalking quietly enough to signal to Ulric that it was up to no good.
The thing about many herbivores was that they weren't trying to sneak up on anybody, given that their food didn't run away. At least on Varda, not very often. Which means they typically don't care about making a little noise, especially in a herd. No, Ulric was fairly certain by the stop and go pattern of disturbance he saw ahead that its source was, in fact, hunting something.
Carefully, very carefully, the Elf trained one time woodsman of Earth slipped into the shadow of the unknown hunter and began to trail it. He'd come a long way in this game since his abrupt arrival, honing himself against young Brighteyes first, and then his far more proficient sister later. The difference between hunter and hunted was a fine thing, dancing on a razor's edge at times. One mistake was all it took to hand your target the information it needed to turn the tables and Ulric was determined not to give anything away.
In the spirit of this, he had not employed his [Ceraunoperception] to pierce the veil of undergrowth ahead. It was a subtle thing but Taipan said she could feel the pulses as a slight prickle on her skin at close range and he didn't want to give even that much away. Besides, now that he was directly behind the target he could follow it easily enough, even if he hadn't laid eyes on it directly.
Soon enough, that situation rectified itself. A small clearing ahead, at the bottom of one of the small hills there was a spring, small pool of crystalline clear water away from which burbled a tiny creek. Into that clearing stepped a red-haired human man wearing knee high leather boots, hard soled and uncommon for any who frequented the wilds. It was likely those hard soled boots that gave him away, despite his obvious attempts at being stealthy. The boots weren't what had Ulric's attention though, no, it was it his coat. A long heavy black trench coat with which Ulric was intimately familiar. That coat marked the adept mages of Prosper, their personal wizards and officers of the gilded empire. Mages who took coin to do murder as a bonus to their wages.
At the sight of the mage, Ulric's core spun up, cycling lightning in a deathly chase readying power to obliterate his enemy. Positive separated from negative, two poles forming at his will, separated yet yearning to become one again. The capacitance grew as Ulric channeled the magic, preparing to funnel his strength into a set of lightning bolts that would turn the mage, and his general vicinity, into a fulminating heap of ash and glassed earth.
Stumbling out from the thick brush behind Prosper's agent came a barefoot Catkin in a tattered tunic, bearing a slave collar made of silver metal, golden scrollwork tracing its control runes. Ulric hovered on the brink, a moment sooner and he'd have killed the both of them. Damned close call for the girl, that was. He'd have to wait for her to clear the blast radius before he could deal with the mage. Therefore, he'd stay under cover and keep track of
"Please! Lover! I cannot go farther!" Cried the Catkin woman in a husky, breathless gasp.
She was clearly exhausted, by the sound of her. The mage turned around and, to Ulric's amazement, picked the beastkin girl up in a princess carry and buried his face in her neck length hair, muttering something too muffled and soft for Ulric to make out while the girl giggled quietly.
What the fuck was going on here?
Raising his face, the mage, young looking now that Ulric saw him clearly, told her in muted excitement, "I am sorry, darling, only I cannot believe we've done it! Two years but you're free now, I have the unlocking spell! You will not be found, and never again will you serve those pigs!"
Uhhhhh…okay, Ulric had not been prepared to fall into a romance novel from the Pre-Collapse. Varda was more like a murder mystery with a dash of horror comedy. The jarring sweetness pouring off of the pair did not jive with that coat he was wearing. Prosper's mage core was, to his knowledge, a set of indoctrinated, hate filled fanatics bent on dominating the other races and establishing Prosper as a dynasty in Prespang, and all the continent, if they could manage it. So how the hell had the ginger kid over there ended up clearly head over heels for the cat eared beastkin slave girl?
Running her slightly clawed fingers gently over the youth's face and chest, the Leor girl with her tawny orange fur and burnished orange irises whispered something before hugging the mage tightly. Was this what it was like when Ulric and Taipan were flirting in public? Gross. They were rarely so flagrant in company though. And these two were idiots, the hidden man had decided. Did they have no idea what kind of hilariously dangerous bullshit liked to run around the woodlands? It was a wonder nothing had crept up behind them ready to slay them viciously. You know, sort of like he had been doing just a minute ago, now that he thought about it.
Things had just become complicated. Ulric had a buck and change of Orlethrem refugees, whose presence could not and would not, if he had any say on the matter, be known by Prespang's countrymen and most especially not by any agent of Prosper, including most especially their Magisters, Mages, and/or, armed forces. However, he now had an innocent civilian involved and some kind of unsanctioned dalliance if he was reading this situation correctly. Sure as shit, no self-respecting instrument of the Valin supremacists would be all cuddly with the Beast folk. But here they were.
Alright, think man! Ulric urged himself. He didn't have all godsdamned day, he needed to know what was in this forest and he needed to know what was going on with that encampment. Sitting here in the bushes spying on these love birds was doing neither one.
His ponderings were cut off suddenly.
Crashes through the brush preceded by a half a second a horse sized bird monster that had a jaggedly toothed beak, four legs bearing talons like short swords, and a glittering blue feathers tipped by golden yellow.
"SEEEEER!" Screeched the beast as it launched itself at the pair whose cooing had made them appear vulnerable to ambush.
Ulric was certain he was about to watch the pair mauled while he looked on in shock until one of the oak trees reached out and clubbed the bird from the air with a heavy *whack*.
One hand of the red-haired mage was free and his fingers were weaving eerily as his green eyes stared at the beast. The mage was chanting something that sounded like it might be Latin mixed with Greek and the four-legged eagle was trying to rise when a set of roots from the oak that had smacked it from the air tore up from the ground and wrapped the creature until it looked like a bark flavored mummy, and dragged it, screeching loudly and struggling the entire time, to be interred beneath the trunk of the oak tree.
Holy fuck! Ulric exclaimed to himself.
Aaaalllrriiiighty then, mage was some kind of tree bender. Good to know. The reason he hadn't [Scanned] the mage was the same reason he hadn't used [Ceraunoperception] earlier. When someone used that spell to look up your Akashic life story, you felt that shit for sure. It was a dead giveaway and almost never happened unexpectedly for any good reason.
The Leor girl was now on her own feet, though she remained clutching the mage boy's coat.
"Brodin! A beast! You slew it so bravely, you hero!" Cried the girl with sickening sweetness.
Ulric was going to have to get the fuck out of here or subscribe to insulin. Maybe his notions of the dynamic between men and women was somewhat skewed by extensive interaction with the Elves. Or maybe it was just his relationship with Taipan, which was distinctly alien from anything he'd known in the Before. Who knows? What he did know was that it was time to shit or get off the pot. This pair might be the best lead he could have hoped for to determine what goings on were ahead of him before he went and stuck his stupid face into them.
Readying himself to kill everything generally, just in case, Ulric rose from his hidden crouch and shouted "Ho there! Strangers! I mean no harm! I'm just a man from the Outer Reaches passing through new lands and finding many troubles. Have I come, at last, from the wilderness to civilization?"
The pair swung violently towards him and Ulric could feel through his core the vegetation around sort of come to order, awaiting the will of the plant manipulating Mage. But no fireworks, just yet. The girl's features had drawn back into a feral snarl of fear, which mostly confirmed the pair were not exactly in any danger of running to the authorities.
Hands raised placatingly, Ulric set out to soothe the pair, "Easy goings now, I have no business with Prosper's agents nor any that hold their ear." He started, smooth and even, hoping nobody did anything stupid.
When nothing stupid occurred, he took a few steps nice and slow towards them, very pointedly not reaching for his sword and raising his visor to show his face as he continued to ease them down from their scare.
"In point of fact, I was staying hidden because I recognized the young sir's coat and did not wish to draw attention, not until it seemed that I was mistaken about his alliance." Ulric explained watching for any sign that those trees and vines meant to make things rough for him.
They didn't and the pair relaxed a mite which was great, especially when the trees went back to being just regular old trees.
Pointedly glancing at the most recently weaponized arbors, Ulric addressed the mage directly, "I can't help noticing that you are a mage sanctioned by Prosper, or, at least, you bear the uniform of such. I had not known any of those kind to not be toeing the party line with regards to Otherkin, but, clearly, you are not of the common ilk.”
Hoping that he was right and that there would be no need for violence here, Ulric continued gently “Please, there are others with whom I travel that I will not allow to fall under sway of the Magisters or the aegis of the Golden Thrones. Being that we both have ones who we do not wish to leave exposed to those fat spider's authority, perhaps we can assist one another."
Beastkin girl and ginger mage traded looks and bent to whisper at each other.
