The whole group arrived, standing at the perimeter of the Dark Evergreen Forest, as the map apparently dubbed it, that the Hammer Tribe had fled to and taken refuge within. Emis popped a cork, chugging a gray potion as bland as it was unassuming. Soon his skin became translucent, hair turning clear and clothes disappearing. Martin the Missileer watched approvingly.

“Potion of Invisibility? I didn’t think you could afford it.”

“Lesser Potion of Invisibility. You can still kind of see me, so it’s not completely effective.”

“It should be sufficient for the job ahead. I’ve got something like it myself.”

Martin withdrew a scroll from his robe, opening it and tearing it in half. The parchment tore, smoldering at the edges and burning away to ash. Quickly his form became ethereal, more spiritual than physical in nature. The dust, the air, passed through him with some resistance. A powerful scroll, imbued by some eminent master of the magical arts.

“Like it? Ghostform is one of my favorite scrolls to use: unassuming, discrete, and it provides me with some defense to an extent. Swords and arrows do nothing to me, though they do drain my ghostform faster.”

The band of Crown Infiltrators from the capital gathered in a tight knit group, casting a group-wide skill in unison.

“Ready? Three, two, one, [Still-Life]!”

To most, their bodies suddenly were no longer moving. Anyone staring at the infiltrators could not sense them moving. It was as if they were part of the background, an image frozen in time instead of a flowing, shifting person. Without visual motion, they were much harder to spot, or keep track of when they hid among the trees of the forest.

Only Pion was spared this visual scrambling, as she did not depend on motion perception. Her visual sensors were far more advanced, designed to spot even the most camouflaged creatures against swirling colorful backdrops. Motion perception was unnecessary when infrared vision was possible, or mere pattern recognition.

The Golden Arrow did not use these strange cheap tricks to avoid notice. They could scale trees with ease, making use of more generic skills like [Stealth] and [Camouflage] to stay unnoticed. As professional bonafide rangers, the ability to carefully and quickly navigate less than ideal terrain was vital to maintaining distance between an archer and their target. Failure meant great injury or death, so no one could afford to slack off training to traverse the most treacherous of environments.

Perience had none of these advantages, only able to skulk around and hide behind cover like a plebian. As he was a swordsman by trade, he spoke in the language of blades and the battlefield, more accustomed to the song of slice and slashing than hiding, being passive. He could only depend on his natural intuition and the help of the people he had hired to do the bulk of the work.

“The team should be able to do well by themselves. At least you can relate, right Pion? Can’t help but be jealous of people with the right skills for the job.”

Pion turned to him and then back to the forest, thinking for a moment. Within seconds, her “skin” became transparent, virtually perfectly see-through besides the clothing. She began to remove her clothing too, until Perience raised a hand and told her to keep it on, for modesty. Really her false invisibility was an illusion, the nanomachines crawling over her body constantly shifting colors to match what a person would typically see if she were not standing there.

“I am likewise prepared to avoid notice by the indigineous inhabitants of this area. It is not necessary anyway. I am sufficiently equipped to deal with threats of this caliber anyway.”

She left Perience all by his lonesome, agape at her varied yet powerful repertoire. He pondered how anyone could be allowed to be so skilled and indomitable, despite possessing little knowledge of how the world worked. Definitely something he would have to check out later. Whatever mystery was behind the sheer depth of her ability should not be ignored. Being able to replicate invisibility naturally spoke of the expansiveness of her benefactor and the vast power they must wield.

The snowy forests the North was known for were much more packed than one might expect. The bushes and shrubbery were evergreen, just like the trees, able to survive through the harshest of winters on pre-stored energy reserves. Thanks to this, the woodlands remained dense and hazardous even as the sky remained cloudy and pale most days. Rarely would the sun ever come out to give the plants a much needed reprieve.

The suffocating silence was broken only by the occasional rustling of someone’s stealth being broken for just a moment. For all his skill in potion brewing, he did not possess adequate experience in maintaining silence. As such, Emis’s heavy footfalls would occasionally land on a branch or leaves, eliciting a soft snap or a heavy crunch of snow.

“God, must you be so insufferably loud? It is night, so their hearing shall be more acute, and your intensely audible failure of an attempt at stealth will be painfully obvious.”

The leader of the Crown Infiltrators, nameless and having been practicing his craft for many years, could hardly stand watching it be butchered by an amateur relying more on a single craft brew than any real expertise in stealth and sabotage. Watching it really grated on his nerves in a way he could not describe.

“Watch the ground, you fool! Your footprints are so incredibly obvious! Did you forget to bring a Featherfall potion or are you just daft?”

“Well sorry I’m not a professional like you. Some of us have lives and other jobs, you know. Maybe you should try being nicer to people before you open your mouth.”

While the two argued on the ground down below like plebeians, the leader of the Golden Arrow had scaled one of the highest trees in the area to gain a vantage point over the forest. From up top the treetops could be seen clearly. To this woman it was a terrific advantage. A ranger must always be aware, and such must train their senses to their peak. That was how she saw the muffled smoke, and smelled the scent of scant flames on the breeze. Ashes from a fire far in the distance was obvious to her, even when no one else would be able to notice in the dim moonlight.

“Martin, can you turn your observations in that direction? I think their camp is located that way,” she spoke, dropping down from branches onto the snow covered soil.

The Missile Man himself obliged, demonstrating the one spell he put effort into learning besides magic missile: [Observation]. Immediately his awareness spread across the snowy forest in a directional pulse towards where she pointed, bouncing off of wood and branch, tree and leaf. He sensed all animals tramping through the brush and the few bugs still around in the cold. Only those with fur or layers could bear the cold.

And he could see the camp in its entirety. The makeshift wooden posts surrounding the camp, the flickering flames of small limited campfires burning away logs to ash, wisps of smoke escaping into the clouds. Muted soldiers sparred or maintained their weapons or talked together about the recent battle, the reality of a large pitched war beginning to settle in. Battles and slaughter and the thrill of the fight faded when the people were confronted with the realization of how difficult warfare really was.

A few scouts patrolled around the perimeter, tiredly scanning the vicinity for suspicious activity before moving on to the next area. That was how they rotated from spot to spot, to stay alert and not fall asleep from staying in one place. Periodic watchtowers granted vision over a large area just past the walls, meaning sneaking in or attacking the camp directly could not be done in secret or by surprise.

Is what they thought. The enemy expected a large force of mediocre troops to storm the walls and overwhelm with sheer numbers, not a small high-level saboteur force. Martin turned back to the woman.

“I’ve spotted them, er…”

“Oh! I haven't even properly introduced myself to everyone. You may call me Raly.”

“I’ve located them, Miss Raly. Your senses must be very acute to notice where they’ve hidden themselves despite the snowfall and the tree cover.”

“You get used to it as a ranger. It’s the price we pay for avoiding direct, dangerous, deadly close quarters combat. Better to have to train the eyes and ears and nose than training to avoid a blade or parry another weapon.”

Raly turned to the bickering alchemist and the arrogant assassin, clearing her throat.

“Everyone, Martin has taken the time to help me locate the enemy compound, in that general direction. Remember, we can’t talk as freely when we get there, so we may have to use hand symbols. It’s pretty hard for us to see each other, so that may fail as well. Just keep in mind that we’re going to be splitting up and canvasing the surrounding area for the food stores.”

The lead infiltrator scoffed, turning away in slight contempt.

“I already knew all these things. We are no amateurs, ill-proficient in the art of disruption.”

Pion caught up to the gang, tapping Raly on the shoulder with pseudo-invisibility still on and scaring the jeebies out of her.

“What groups shall we be assigned to? Or will we each be working alone?”

“I’m sure we can all handle ourselves just fine! We don’t need to work in groups, right? Now, one, two, three, break!”

They all began to stray from each other en-route to the enemy encampment, leaving Perience in the dust in disbelief. He had been so focused on getting everyone else to prepare for this mission he had neglected himself. So he sighed and stared at the ground before trudging on through the snow by his lonesome. How sad.