As the group of rangers walked away from the clearing, Saravren had mixed feelings. She was following Ethren’s orders; now that contact had been established and Richard didn’t seem like a threat it was time to return and inform the council. The orders made a certain amount of sense to her, but at the same time she felt they were letting an opportunity pass.

Ethren had missed the initial reactions Richard had displayed when they met. He had seemed shocked like someone who had hit their head too hard but was also sad with a few tears falling and confused all at the same time. When they had introduced themselves his whole face had lit up with the most expressive smile she had ever seen. His intense blue eyes that had seemed tired and flat had suddenly lit up like the dawn breaking through dark clouds. He had seemed nervous but joyful and was just beginning to relax a little and lose the shell shocked expression when Ethren arrived.

At first she had been terrified, but that didn’t last long after his initial aggressive stance relaxed. She even began to feel a little comfortable with their interactions while he had a goofy grin and was using his hands and face to communicate. He seemed almost childlike in a way. She hadn’t felt any aggressive feelings directed towards them, despite the fact that they were clearly of a different race.

When Ethren had told Richard that they were going to leave, there was a moment of profound loneliness and sadness that swept over his face. His eyes lost their luster as he seemed to almost meekly accept the decision. Some hope came back in his body language as he let them know he would be… walking or waiting nearby? At least that’s what Saravren parsed out of the final motions.

After they had been walking for ten minutes or so, Saravren turned to Ethren and said, “I’m not sure we should have left so fast. He seemed to be pretty open to trying to communicate. I know that you are the leader, but I feel like maybe we could have waited a little longer?”

Ethren glanced at her for a moment before responding, “Maybe. Our jobs as rangers, however, is to scout and determine and neutralize threats. I think, for the most part, we determined that he isn’t currently hostile, so that means that further contact will be diplomatic: which is not our job. We need to get this information to the council so they can decide the next step. Once I determined he wasn’t an immediate threat I knew that he could be a powerful ally or enemy and, frankly, we’re not trained or skilled in diplomacy to keep ‘talks’ going.”

They walked in silence for a while before Ethren spoke up again.

“Our lack of a chief for the tribe is going to make this complicated. I need you two to say nothing to anyone when we return. I will be talking with the council and it will be up to them to decide what to do.” Ethren had a dark look on his face as he continued, “It will probably take a long time for any decision to be reached, unfortunately.”

Saravren grunted agreement even though she wanted to keep arguing, but she knew it would be futile at this point. Ethren had her detail her meeting as they walked and she told him about all of her observations.

As they picked up the pace a little, she began to go back over the whole ‘conversation’ and interaction with Richard.

His language was harsh, but sounded complicated. His clothing and armor had been unlike anything she had ever seen. The intricacy of his metal shirt was amazing. It must have taken magic to be able to weave metal in such a way! His features were strange, but not ugly. He had less hair and no fur that she could see, but he had sharp and strong features and looked young. Except those eyes. They had looked old when he wasn’t smiling excitedly. It was a look she had seen in warriors who had fought too long, or parents that had lost their children.

She was fairly certain that he had been asking them if they knew how to cast a spell so that they could understand one another. She had never heard of anything like that.

Unfortunately, it was unlikely that any of the tribe’s magic users would know how to cast a spell like that. They had lost their head shaman in the same battle where the chief fell and only his two apprentices had survived. It was possible that they could figure something out, as shamans talked to the spirits and had some talent in scrying, but she felt it unlikely. The mages in the clan were adept at using some elemental magics, but something that could affect sound? Probably not.

In fact, it was a little startling when Richard had made the magical sparkles show up without even muttering an incantation or seeming to concentrate at all. She knew he was a powerful mage by all of the spells he threw around, but the level of knowledge and control needed to cast spells that could interpret languages or to throw sparks with but a thought was beyond anything she had heard of. It took a lot of concentration for her to use her stealth skills or to feel presences in the Field, but he barely seemed to notice he was even doing anything.

They were making good time back towards camp, and Saravren was excited to hear what would be decided before she remembered Ethren saying it would probably take a while.

She was still excited though because she would be able to take a bath soon! That was the only thing that she disliked about going out for days into the wilderness to scout. It was something Ethren had told her he wasn’t happy about either, before she became an initiate ranger and he had to play at being a tough guy. Men.

As they passed the sentries and broke past the final treecover into the large meadow that the tribe had set up camp, she was surprised at the amount of work that had been accomplished. There were paths all throughout the area, and cleared fields with the tall grass chopped down and laid to dry.

Off to the side, Saravren noticed some logs piled up and people working at the forest edge to fell some more trees. The tents had all been set up, and it looked like there were repairs being made to frames and wagons. There were some new structures like racks to smoke meat and an area to clean or repair clothes.

The rangers made their way back into camp, and Deilos came out to greet them. Saravren noticed that he, too, had taken the time for a bath. Hypocrites, the lot of them.

Ethren barked a quick, “Report” to Deilos as he matched strides with them.

He responded curiously, “The council has been informed of what I knew. I didn’t expect you back so soon, so you can probably get some hot food and clean up before dealing with them, as most are working and it will take time to gather them all together. What brought you back so early?”

Ethren stopped walking, now that he knew he had some time. He grunted noncommittally before saying, “I’d rather wait until after I talk to the council to see what they decide before any more information is shared. I’ve told these two to keep things under wraps. Thanks for letting me know I’ll have some time. Saravren, Deilos, you two can go rest or grab food, you shouldn’t be needed for the rest of the day. Good work.”

Saravren nodded, throwing a quick salute before she turned to find her tent. She was most definitely going to clean up and get her clothes drying before she went for food.

She hoped that she would be able to go back and talk to Richard soon. If they could gain an ally in him, perhaps he could teach them how to do some of the magic he had access to! That would be amazing.

As she made her way towards the river, she detoured to see if her friend Olena was busy. She was probably going to end up the next shaman, but the tribe hadn’t had the time to have any official ceremonies yet.

With her pack full of dirty clothes, she found Olena working to replace a few cracked supports for the large ceremonial tent.

“Olena! You busy? I’m going to wash, if you want to join me.” She called.

Olena looked up from her work with a smile. She was a little older than Saravren at thirty winters but had the same playful personality despite her shamans training, or perhaps because of it? She had a lighter brown coloration and generally wore looser, more flowing clothing than the other women.

“Sure, Sara, I’ve been hoping someone would save me for hours now!” She replied with a grin. Standing with a little grunt she continued, “Let’s stop by my tent and I can grab my stuff.”

As they walked towards the river, Olena asked “How was your trip? Deilos said that you found the god spirit thing, is it true?”

Saravren scrunched up her face a little in annoyance and said, “Well, we aren’t supposed to talk about it much, but yes we did. I don’t think it’s a god or spirit, but what would I know? Say Olena, have you ever heard of a spell to help talk to something that doesn’t speak pelle?”

Olena gave her a ‘i know something is fishy and will find out what’ look before looking up. “mmmmmm, I dunno. I guess you could say talking to the natural spirits is kinda like that. They don’t speak in languages but in feelings and songs that it takes experience to translate. Why do you ask?” She gave Saravren a mischievous smile.

“O-Oh, uhh. No reason! Um, but what’s that like? How can you understand feelings and songs instead of words?” Saravren replied sheepishly.

Olena’s suspicious glare was getting more intense, but her smirk showed she was mostly messing with her. “Why, experience, of course! That’s why I’m a shaman, don’t you know!”

“Ah, right. I suppose that makes sense.” They had arrived at the river, thankfully saving her from the increasingly perceptive Olena’s interrogation.

She hoped the elders wouldn’t take too long to come to a decision.

Ethren was eventually called into the larger tent in which the council met. It was beginning to get dark, but that was alright. He had had enough time to get cleaned up and rest with a full belly.

He entered the tent and the five elders looked his way from where they were seated on logs around the central fireplace. They had mostly curious expressions and Elder Hollen waved him to take a seat. Ethren saluted near the entrance to the tent, then moved to sit between Elders Forthra and Yim.

He studied the faces quickly as he was seated. Elder Hollen sat across from him and had a curious and slightly impatient look on his face. He is an older man with greying temples and is in charge of organizing the guards and scouts around camp and overall logistics and organization for the tribe.

Elder Forthra, seated to his left, was a lady not yet old enough to be a grandmother. Her lighter blonde coloring hadn’t started to grey, but the worry lines around her green eyes had been getting more numerous during the exodus. She was in charge of weaving and other handicrafts along with organizing the children, though it had been a while since they had had the time to work any crafts, and looked cautiously hopeful.

Elder Yim, to his right, was the oldest of their elders, though still far from his dottage. He was the last surviving member of the original council before they had fled into exile, and he looked subdued and a little lost. He had been in charge of records and teaching, but those had been either destroyed or left behind in their flight though he still taught as much as he was able.

Elder Pethel was next to the right, and he still had a little mud on his pants from working the fields. His black hair was also greying and was cut close to his scalp. He was their most experienced farmer, and lucky to still have his whole immediate family.

Finally, elder Whelan was looking grouchy as usual, but his eyes were sharp and he gave Ethren a curt nod. He hadn’t been happy for a while because he was in charge of crafts like fletching and bronze working which they hadn’t had the materials or facilities to work on while moving.

Once Ethren was seated, Elder Hollen spoke up and said, “Well Ethren, it’s good to see you back safe and sound. What did you discover about this ‘wandering God’ that Deilos was telling us about?”

A snort escaped Ethren’s face before he could help it. He cleared his throat before responding, “Well, first I’ll say he definitely isn’t a God.”

The elders perked up at hearing that, and Ethren continued before they could interrupt.

“After I sent Deilos back to report, Saravren moved to follow him more closely, while Gloast and I moved back. It became clear that he had been moving directly from one Twisted to the next in a looping arc, slowly heading north. If he could sense them that well, then there was a high chance he could sense us too. With Saravren’s skill at hiding her presence I decided she should be closer and we should move back.”

Ethren paused for a moment and pondered out loud, “In fact, now that I think about it, he almost certainly knew we were there. He didn’t move towards us or react in any other way, so I thought he hadn’t noticed, but thinking back now I’m fairly certain he had just decided not to.

“Regardless, according to Saravren he was moving through the forest ‘as if he had been born to it’ and was stealthily killing every Twisted that he came across before moving on to the next. At some point, Saravren decided she wanted to get a closer look, so she moved ahead of his path to the edge of a meadow and waited.

“It seems that at that point he decided to make contact, and halfway through the meadow turned and approached her directly.”

The elders made concerned noises as Ethren took too long to continue talking without interruption.

Elder Forthra quickly interjected, “I heard that Saravren returned with you, did anything happen?”

Ethren cleared his throat with a quick glance to Forthra before continuing, “Yes, she is fine. She dropped her stealth so that we would know to move forward. She was alone with him for maybe ten minutes or so as we raced to her side. At that time, she began to communicate with him a little using gestures and such.”

Speaking past the surprised noises and grumbles of the elders he continued, “His name is Richard, and he doesn’t speak pelle. His words are very different, but his name sounded like Richard. How that’s spelled or what language he was speaking? Unclear. They communicated some things in gestures that were hard to understand before I arrived. When I did, we introduced ourselves, after a fashion. He seemed like he was glad or at least excited to meet us and didn’t seem aggressive.

“He was wearing a strangely woven metal armored shirt and a metal hat of some kind. The metal was silvery, but looked more dull and strong. He had a very long knife on his waist longer than my forearm that he never drew, so I’m unsure what it is made out of, but wouldn’t be surprised if it is the same material. He has rounded ears that look almost Kailen, but no horns or other specific features. He is tall, has light skin, brown hair on his head though not much hair or fur otherwise, blue eyes, warrior’s build, seemed young… but also not young. I can’t explain it.

“I’ll remind you he is incredibly dangerous, but he seemed like he wanted to be friends more than anything else. He asked, and this is a guess but a pretty good guess, if we had any magic that would allow us to speak to one another. I’ve never heard of anything like that, and we communicated that we did not. He responded by ‘saying’, and again, I’m not sure about this, but it seemed like he was trying to tell us that he did have that kind of magic, or that he might, but he didn’t remember how to do it… or something. Again, all of this communication was through gestures and facial expressions, so it’s hard to say.

“At this point I decided that it was no longer the duty of the rangers to continue to try to communicate, and judging that he was friendly and seemed open to communication we would bring this information to the council so that you could decide what to do as far as diplomacy or whatnot. That’s about it.” Ethren sat back and took a swig from his waterskin to wet his dry throat. He congratulated himself on getting the whole story out without much interruption.

The elders were silent for a little while while they digested this information. Their expressions were mostly thoughtful and they occasionally looked at one another to gauge the reactions.

Eventually it was Elder Hollen who spoke up, “Well. This certainly is a strange situation. We were most worried that we would need to move again to find a safe place, but perhaps we may talk to this Richard and see if another option might be explored. Being cautiously optimistic we could have an ally to our northwest to help with the number of Twisted out in this wilderness, or maybe something more?” He fell silent and looked around the fire.

Elder Whelan grumbled with a snort and said, “Well, if we’re going to be hopelessly optimistic, this Richard may know the area well enough to show us where we could find stone, copper, tin, salt, coal… Though I’ll not hold my breath. We obviously need to talk to him and try for neutrality at the very least. This situation has me feeling on edge though.”

Elders Pethel and Forthra looked like they wanted to speak, but Elder Yim straightened and cleared his throat. Being the eldest and most knowledgeable by a wide margin, everyone calmed and turned to him.

He quietly began, gaining volume as he went, “I have been studying the area since we arrived, and it has left me feeling ill at ease. There are things here that do not fit. Things feel off in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. Your report has helped.

“In the oldest records and legends, there was written of a great battle fought in the northern mountains. The sky was rent asunder and the land itself was scarred as the great spirits and Gods, now gone from this plane, fought back death and the sun rose on our people once more. You know this story, at least the broad strokes of it, as we celebrate the defeat over darkness every year at the winter solstice.

“According to the records that were lost, this battle took place before The Fall and the Long Winter. Our ancestors used their high magics and technologies to fight alongside those spirits and Gods to banish demons from our world back to the abyss from whence they came. It was a lesson taught through story, I thought; a parable.

“Now our rangers come to us speaking of a powerful mage that created a new clearing in the forest while doing battle with a horde of Twisted using great magics. A single man, wearing strange metal armor and wielding magic that we cannot comprehend. A man who lives in the northern mountains.”

Elder Yim paused, stroking his chin as he looked each person in the eyes to let his words sink in. He continued, “I have walked the land since our arrival, and there are certainly some incongruencies in the landscape. Strangely shaped lakes, hills and crevices that stand alone, as if placed there. There are few, if any, magical creatures. There are too many normal animals, and too many Twisted. It is inconsistent with any other place I have heard of.”

He stopped speaking for a while while everyone pondered his words. The fire crackled as Elder Hollen placed a new log on.

Elder Yim looked at Ethren and said very clearly, “We must make an ally of this man, Ethren. We must know more. This valley is ideal for us,” Elder Pethel nodded enthusiastically at that, “but there may be more to this place than we can see at first glance. Does anyone disagree?”

None spoke, though there were looks of surprise if not shock on their faces.

Elder Yim spoke sharply, his voice stronger than Ethren had heard in years, “We will gather a few gifts. Simple things, like food, seeds, some of our wine, perhaps some cloth, and Ethren and his rangers shall escort a party to speak with Richard. I will be among that number.” There were some choking noises and complaints before Yim raised his hand, gesturing for silence.

“There is no one alive in this tribe better suited than I to speak to Richard. There is also no one with less work to do.” He said with a wry smile and a chuckle.

There were more arguments, and more discussion, but eventually Elder Yim’s plan was put forward. They would send a delegation. For Ethren, he agreed once he saw the spark of hope and enthusiasm take hold of Elder Yim in a way he hadn’t seen in years. He prayed that night to his ancestors and the great spirits that they weren’t making a mistake.