“As long as you two can keep a steady pace we should be able to make it to Redtree by mid-evening at the latest.” Kryst says.

"Yeah." Cinnamon points down the river snaking its way through the forest. "I can see the roadway from here so the Twinwater Bridge shouldn't be too much further."

I don’t reply. I’m still too stunned at the sight.

We are standing on the edge of a small rise that looks out over the forest. In the distance is the town we are headed toward, and I don’t have to make any sort of Deduction roll to work out how it got its name.

On the crown of a large knoll, one entire side sheered away as if a titan had chopped into the earth with a shovel, sits a gigantic, skyscraper-sized tree covered in red leaves.

Framed against the haze of a distant ocean the nearly pitch black trunk is huge. The wide base spreading out to easily cover the radius of a city block, while massive gnarled roots writhe into the earth to keep it perched on the peak of the mountainous rise.

Ruddy brown roofed buildings crowd together about the base of the tree and across the surface of the hill, while large platforms and a web-work of scaffolding hang out over the side of the grey and orange rock cliff face.

Two large cranes frame either end of the precipice, a series of smaller cranes scattered at random intervals between. Their cables and pulleys dangling over the edge and down toward a large lake that sits at the bottom, connected to the sea by a fat river that disappears around the edge of the hill.

There are even structures built onto, and into, the side of the rock face. Clumped like barnacles they work a trail from the top all the way down to the base of the cliff where more buildings cluster about the edge of a series of piers that jut out into a lake. Along with smaller fishing boats a few galleon styled, wooden trade ships sit docked at the piers and also anchored near a small island with a red glowing ember of light at its center. The boats colorfully painted hulls a sharp contrast to the muddy brown waters.

"Let's go." Cinnamon says and there is a tinge of excitement in her soft voice. "Maybe we can make it to town before nightfall if we hurry." I glance over and see that she has already started down the side of the rise, hop skipping her way toward the river bank.

A buzzing hum sounds from behind me and the hair blows from the side of my face in the miniature helicopter like wash of fairy wings. A moment later two small feet land lightly on my shoulder.

It talks all my willpower not to immediately swat Kryst away like the annoying pest she is.

There is a long pause and I turn my head slightly to catch the fairy in my peripheral vision.

“She really is beautiful, isn’t she, Too Tall.”

“That she is.” I turn my head back and continue watching Cinnamon as she waves and motions for us to hurry up and follow.

Kryst sucks her teeth, “Not your long-eared girly girl, dopey.” She smacks the side of my head and points off toward the massive tree. “Her!”

I scrunch up my face and toss back a bit of attitude in kind. “Didn’t think you would be into trees and stuff. Doesn’t seem your style.”

“What?” Kryst lets out a melodic chuckle “Look, I may be as tough as a dwarven black-iron nail, but I’m all fairy too.” Kryst's flashes me an actual smile but a hint of sadness tickles the corners of her magenta-hued eyes. A small crack in her normally brash demeanor.

In an instant, her shoulder set square once more and she swipes her doll-sized hand over my ear.

“Remember that, Brian.” She lifts from my shoulder and flits away and I quickly turn my attention from her departure back toward town.

Not because I wanted to have another look at the awe-inspiring majesty of Redtree but because I’m biting my lip and trying not to shudder from the euphoric sensations shooting through my chest and loins from Krysts tickling of my sensitive, erogenous zone, ears.

************************

The forest thins noticeably as we make our way toward the roadway; signs that we are nearing a civilized settlement plainly apparent in the numerous clean-cut stumps of trees. Perhaps felled by lumberjacks for building materials.

It makes me feel a bit better. As much fun as camping can be, I've never been much of an outdoorsy type and I’m looking forward to having a roof over my head tonight.

With our course plotted Kryst has decided to take a nap and crawls into Cinnamon's backpack as we walk. The bag shifting and moving as she gets comfortable in a soft bed of Cinnamon's spare clothes. Again I experience a spasm of resentfulness toward the fairy, especially with the heavy collection of hide and monster parts digging into my shoulders.

"Hey, Cinni." In an effort to take my mind off of the ache in my muscles I decide to try and engage in a bit of small talk. "Quick question, besides Redtree where else does this road we're looking for lead to?"

"Oh, it's the Timberland Trail." She replies with a glance back, "It connects Redtree with some of the other smaller villages further out in the Shimmerwood."

Ah, so that's the name of this forest then. "And you said that you have been here before? Redtree, I mean. What about these other settlements? Have you visited them too?" I ask, "I just want to know a little of what they might be like. You know, get a lay of the land."

"Sure." She shoots me her closed-eyed smile. "Well, let's see. Most are small farming communities, and there are some mines in the mountains, so a few of the villages built up around them. Then, there are a couple others who harvest the rare woods that grow in the forest. Particularly Ironwood and Trollbark."

Airship Tech + Bonus from Complementary Skills: Success!

The names trigger something in my mind. A glimpse of the innate knowledge that I seem to possess.

Ironwood: As strong and resistant to fire as steel, this naturally occurring mana infused wood, is much lighter than metal. A popular building material for Airships where a light but strong material is required. Armor and weapons constructed of Ironwood are favored by Druids, Elves and other beings that share a strong connection with nature.

Trollbark: These trees often grow where populations of Trolls are high. Extreme care must be taken not to leave this wood resting in piles for too long as it has the bizarre ability to bond with itself or other woods. A frequently used material in ship construction or any sort of manufacture where solid airtight seals or seams may be needed.

"So the goods are usually refined in town a bit before they are shipped down via wagon and sold in Redtree." Cinnamon says.

"You seem to know quite a bit about the area. Is this where you are from? One of the small towns around here?"

"Nope." Cinnamon shakes her head, then pauses and seems to think for a moment. "Well in a way, yes. I'm from Hutchhollow. It's through the forest to the east. Lepuri like to keep to themselves so it is sort of isolated, but we trade with the villages I'm referring too."

Unlocked: General Skill: Conversation vs Cinnamon Butter: Success!

"So your town, Hutchhollow, it doesn't have any major roads connecting it to Redtree then."

"Not directly no." She shakes her head, "There is a road that loops around the Shimmerwood before it connects to the Timberland. It's safer but it would have taken me at least a week to go all the way around." Cinnamon shrugs, "It took me long enough to get home as it is."

"So what's the rush? Not that I'm complaining." I chuckle. "After all if you had gone walkabout we wouldn't have bumped into each other."

"Oh, umm. I just have to go to Redtree and see about... something."

General Skill: Conversation vs Cinnamon Butter: Fail!

I feel my right eyebrow raise all by itself. What kind of weird non-answer was that? It definitely feels like she isn't giving me the whole story and judging by how quiet she's gotten, coupled with her cute bunny tail double twitch it seems like something is on her mind.

I'm just about to press for more information, to see if maybe I can help with whatever may be bothering her when she lets out a little coo points at the bushes ahead and then skips forward quickly. In an effort to not fall behind I increase my pace and quick-step after her. Pushing through foliage the surrounding trees come to an abrupt end and we are standing on the grassy shoulder of a wide dirt road.

************************

By the look of the multitude of crisscrossing wagon tracks, the Timberland Trail is pretty well traveled. Though un-paved the earth is hard packed and wide enough that a couple of cars could pass comfortably. Walking on the roadway is definitely easier than picking our way through the forest and so we make even better time. Still, the journey so far has already taken its toll and when we spot the bridge ahead we have to once more stop and catch our breath.

Cinnamon takes a seat on a large rock sipping at her waterskin while I drop my gear and take a look around.

Spanning the width of two rivers the size of a football field the Twinwater bridge looks to be made of an old grey stone; many of the decorative carvings and statue-like structures along its length worn away with the passage of time.

I take a slow walk onto the bridge and see more than a handful of places where it has been meticulously patched and repaired. New darker bricks a stark contrast against old sun bleached, eroded stonework. I'm about to turn and walk back to Cinnamon when I notice a strange object some twenty or so feet away.

Moving closer to get a better look I find a fishing pole jammed into a hole in the stone at the edge of the bridge. Not that I'm any sort of expert it looks like no fishing pole I have ever seen. More like something that was purchased at a steampunk convention instead of a bait and tackle shop.

The line jerks a bit as it stretches down into the churning water below and I reach over to tap at it. A split second later the line jumps wildly, the pole bending over like it's attempting to double as a question mark. In a panic, I shoot a quick glance about and seeing no one around, grab snatch at the pole.

The line goes taut and dances about as I pull the fishing rod free from its stone holder and grasp at the spinning handle.

Unlocked: General Skill: Fishing: Success!

I can feel the struggle and pull at the end of the line as the fish zips left and then darts back to the right. I have always scoffed at the fishing shows on television, rolling my eyes at the baseball cap-clad sportsmen. However actually feeling the heavy tug of the pole in my hand ignites a strange primal elation. Adrenaline floods my system as I wind at the spindle, dipping the rod to release a little of the steel spring-like tension.

General Skill: Fishing: Success!

I almost lose my grip when I feel a heavy drag, the current of the river aiding in the fish's attempts at escape. The spool releases and I lose a bit of the momentum that I had gained from the initial start of the battle.

General Skill: Fishing: Fail!

I grit my teeth and throw myself back into the fight. In the river below something jumps clear of the surface in a brilliant flash of silver and crimson. I marvel at the huge fish as it twists in the air then hanging motionless for a split second before it splashes back down to disappear beneath the roiling water. The sudden shock of tension hits the line and with a hi-pitched twang the line snaps, the pole bouncing back in my hand to whip across my face.

General Skill: Fishing: Critical Fail!

I let out a cry of pain and grab my face as a trickle of wetness flow down from my forehead and red floods my right eye. I spin about with a curse on my lips and, through my blood blurred vision, catch a mottled green-hued clawed hand grip the stone railing of the bridge.

A moment later a monstrous form hauls itself over the edge and lets out an angry roar.