“I'd guess either Phalanx, or Knight. Blue Knights are particularly common for the Gray Guard.” Norris scratched at his cheeks, which Thomas was startled to notice had the beginnings of a full beard. They stood on the hill that Anne had directed Norris to; Thomas had asked a question, but he couldn't quite remember what the original question had been, now. “They'll usually have a Sergeant at the very least, as well. Don't pick a fight with anybody wearing plate mail, for three good reasons.

“First, plate mail is expensive. If somebody is wearing plate mail, there are a few possibilities for why that money was spent, none of which bode well for you. They could be personally wealthy. Or they enjoy the patronage of a wealthy organization or individual, and even then, either the organization is sufficiently wealthy to outfit everybody with such expensive equipment, or this particular person is sufficiently skilled or important to be worth the expense. Never even mind the difficulty of doing so, you probably don't want to win a fight with an individual under those circumstances, because trouble will follow.

“Second, plate mail requires considerable strength to be effective. Anybody wearing plate mail is going to be stronger than average, which means when they hit you, it's going to hurt. More, it implies that they specialize in Strength, in the same way that you, Thomas, specialize in Constitution, although few will do so to the exclusion of anything else; they're going to get more out of the Strength they have. They're going to largely nullify your personal advantages, Thomas.

“And third, there are dedications that amplify these effects yet further. A Knight can hit with a multiple of the weight of their armor behind their blows, for example. A Phalanx can share some of their own defensive capabilities to those standing nearby. And then the dedications that are available to everyone to improve defensive capabilities are available to those in plate armor as well.”

“That doesn't seem fair.” Madelaine looked up from the small yellow flower whose petals were being systematically stripped and added to a pile at her side, frowning at Norris. Her face drew into a thoughtful frown. “I have both Light Armor and Heavy Armor Expertise. Neither of them look any better.”

“On their own, no.” Norris looked at Thomas, then back to Madelaine. “Unarmored Expertise is, actually, a better dedication. A little bit. It's just not as good as the other dedications, plus good armor. But not everybody takes either anything specific.” He paused for a second, then smiled. “Everybody here meaning people who specialize in fighting, mind. Almost everybody who doesn't specialize in fighting takes Unarmored, for fringe benefits. Now, the real – ”

“Norris, if I hear another word about armor dedications, I'll put an arrow in your ass.” Thomas looked up; Anne was walking up the hill with Arias beside her. Norris turned and smiled down at her, gesturing for Madelaine to stand up. Anne returned the smile, her voice softening, and her attention turning to the two with him. “Thomas, Madelaine.”

“Anne, Arias.” Thomas nodded to her, feeling like he should be doing something; he ended up brushing imaginary dust off his skirts.

“Any new details?” Norris reached up to scratch at his fledgling beard again.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Anne looked at Thomas. “So far you're the only person anybody has found who chose 'Bandit'. You also happen to be the only case of an arrival of people coinciding with a nest being wiped out.” Her expression grew grim. “Food delivered right to them; it would certainly explain some things.”

“Things?” Thomas shoved down a rising horror, at the thought of somebody appearing, alone and confused, only to be torn apart by the horrible dog-things.

“Venu trees have been spreading like wild flames, at the same time that bandit and carnaath attacks are down.” It took him a moment to process that. The venu trees were the not-trees, that spat out the dog-things that turned into bandits. Carnaaths were … the fleshdog things, maybe? Anne shook her head. Anne turned to talk over her shoulder, beginning to walk down the hill, away from the city. “Whatever Sage Eslan thinks of Mayor Mersin's lack of discretion, his inquiries apparently began shaking loose the rumor mill after we left. Apparently everybody has just been assuming the oddities were local and unimportant.”

“Has the Frontier Administration reactivated the bounty on venu nests?” Norris asked, as he fell in behind Anne. He didn't sound excited about the prospect, more resigned.

“Not yet, but it's likely a matter of time.” Silence, for a second, before Anne continued. “Hopefully sooner rather than later. We'll take the bounties if it comes to it. But anyone with more sense than greed is going to refuse if it reaches the point of an established blood forest.”

“What's a venu?” Madelaine leaned over to whisper to Thomas; well, what children thought of as a whisper before they learned that whispers could still be loud. He blinked at her. It took a moment for him to remember that she knew even less than he did, she made him feel dumb so often.

“It's a tree, but instead of seeds, it has big tentacles that spit out little monster dogs, that turn into fake people they call bandits.” He spoke quietly back to her; Anne and Norris continued to talk, and Arias had moved at a fast walk to start scouting the hills and valleys around them. Madelaine thought this over for a moment, before her face squinched up.

“That sounds gross.”

“It's very gross. Stay away from trees here. I think they're all the fake monster trees.” Madelaine's hand moved to her rapier, and she glared around at the grassy hills around them, as if a tree might have been hiding there. Then she spotted Arias on the top of a nearby hill, and immediately relaxed.

“Princess Arias will spot them for us and shoot them with magical arrows that blow them up.” Thomas blinked at the proclamation. Did Arias have magical exploding arrows? He hadn't seen any. After a long moment of consideration, he decided she probably didn't, and Madelaine was probably engaging in some kind of childish fantasy. Probably.

Because exploding magical arrows, as he thought about it, didn't seem that far-fetched, given everything else. He could turn into a giant at will, after all. Thomas looked back down to Madelaine, who was still looking around for potential trees.

“I'm sorry about snitching on you, Madelaine. I really didn't mean to.” She looked up at him, then returned to watching the horizon, exhaling sharply through her nose. Then she looked back up.

“I know. They made me do homework.” A pause, while her hand drifted up to fiddle absently with her braid. “I guess when adults do homework, it's called paperwork. And I'm an adult here. So they made me do paperwork, and promise not to learn a bunch of dumb spells.” She hesitated again. “I think they used magic to make sure I didn't lie. I want to learn that magic. Skeletons aren't even fun, they fall apart after an hour or two.”

“I think you can make them stay longer?”

“Yeah, I asked Admiral Norris, and it holds some of your magic until you undo it. Plus I don't want to be a necromancer, that's boring. I am going to be a pirate princess, and tell everybody what to do.” She patted her rapier. Thomas smiled, and looked around.

“Not a lot of water.”

“I'll have a flying ship, duh.” He smiled wider, and started to respond, when she continued. “I asked, they have them, I'd just have to hire something called an Artisan to make one.” His smile slipped a little bit, and he nearly stumbled on nothing.

“There are flying ships?” That was … “If you become a pirate princess with a flying ship, I'll join your crew.”

“Sorry, snitches walk the plank.” He blinked at her, entirely uncertain whether that was a joke or not.

“Why is the ground so lumpy here?” Madelaine demanded to know, on their tenth or eleventh hill; the overall trend was uphill, as they walked in the direction of the mountains, jagged white-tipped lines on the horizon, only visible from the tops of the taller hills; the sky overhead grew cloudy and gray, as well. Nobody answered Madelaine, although as Thomas paused to consider it, it was kind of baffling; if somebody had made this plane, why had they chosen to make, well, this plane? It was kind of pretty, in its own strange way, but not an aesthetic he ever would have picked out.

They set up camp earlier than usual; the increasingly dense cloud cover darkened the sky prematurely. They weren't near water – a novel experience, this was perhaps the farthest Thomas had been from a stream or river since he'd gotten here - and Norris summoned it for them, to wash down the flavorless manna bread. They ate in silence around a fire; it was apparently cold, although Thomas couldn't feel it.

He did notice the breeze blowing in, a sudden sweeping rustling he heard before he felt, the grass flattening and twisting in a line that ascended the hill and sent him diving for his bedroll, which immediately began to tumble away. He caught it a few strides later, and then immediately dropped it and dove for cover from the explosion that rocked through the air.

Laughter. His brain took a long time to realize it was just thunder, and then he sat up, feeling his cheeks redden, and dashed after his bedroll again, returning sheepishly to the group, who were rolling up their own bedrolls and walking down the hill, fire already extinguished. Thomas jogged to catch up.

“What are we doing?”

“Getting off of the top of the hill so lightning doesn't cook us while we sleep.” Anne looked up at the sky with only a small annoyed sigh. “Figures it would rain tonight.”

“What's special about tonight?” Anne turned to give Thomas a grin.

“We're outside.” Thomas considered that, had no response, and shrugged and walked with them as their group continued walking; Arias was in the lead, heading somewhere specific, and it wasn't long before they arrived at a small rise surrounded by taller hills. It was getting colder as they walked, until Thomas, too, was aware of it, recalling his time alone on his way back to Piketown.

Arias took Madelaine's rapier, adding it to a bundle comprised of her own two rapiers, her shortbow, and Anne's longbow and sword, which was then wrapped tightly in a sheet of brown oilcloth. This was hung from the supplies on Norris' ghostly mule, and another sheet of oilcloth was spread over their supplies, and they just … lay down on the ground, side by side, Norris joining to lay next to Anne a moment later. Well. Maybe there was some advantage to their clothing. Madelaine frowned, but eyed Arias, and then chose to lay down next to her.

After a few seconds, while Thomas looked at the group, Anne looked up at him, then sat halfway up, resting on her elbows. She sighed, and nudged Norris, who shifted over, and then she moved, making space between herself and Arias, in the middle. Thomas paused for a moment, fighting an intense sense of awkwardness. The cold made up his mind; he moved to lay down between them. It was warmer. And only a little awkward.

The rain hit a few seconds later, forcing his eyes shut - and then stopped; Thomas blinked through the water to realize that Arias and Anne had put their hats over their heads, covering his face as well. He felt motion from Arias, when Madelaine started sputtering; Arias turned, shoulders moving, and then they both settled back again, Arias' back now pressed to his side.

He was still getting rained on, it was just from the neck down now. It wasn't comfortable, exactly. The rain was cold on his body, and wind still blew over the top of him, but the others provided some warmth and shelter. Maybe Madelaine had the right idea in copying their clothes, though. His back was starting to get wet and cold, too. Not comfortable.

But he found himself comfortable anyways, feeling a kind of mental warmth, from the proximity of people who, for some reason, seemed to care about him. Thunder rolled in continuous drumming beats, and the sound of rain pelting the hat above his face filled his ears. Unexpectedly, sleep came.