Not thinking she should be on her own outside, although also not knowing what use he would be in following her, Mythril rose and walked out of the cabin after Selrah. He found her a little way to the side where a wooden mailbox balanced precariously upon a stick that looked to have taken a few beatings from a sword. In her hand was a scroll, smaller and lighter than the one they used for their items and information.

“What is it?” he asked, only to have a hand raised up in response to silence him.

While she continued to read, he glanced around the area they were in. It was still inside the forest, the canopy of trees blocking out the sunlight even more so than the depths of which they’d first entered by. The ground was sodden, the grass sinking and remaining flat once he lifted his feet.

“Ugh,” he said, inspecting the bottom of his heel and the dirt and leaves that clung to the dull metal boots. He may have removed his trousers inside the cabin, but he had left on his boots. He wasn’t a heathen. Or perhaps that was supposed to be the other way around?

Through the trees he could make out creatures moving and he felt a thrill that quickly subsided. He desperately wanted to understand how to play this game. He looked up, first at the sound of Selrah moving towards him, her footsteps squishing through the earth, but then even further to the treetops where birds called from. The way the leaves moved left him wondering if rather than being leaves he stared at, it was in fact hundreds of birds all balancing on spindly branches, staring back down at him.

“Well, Widdershins is aware and has notified Dregnor,” Selrah said as she approached. “All we can do is wait for some kind of official mail telling us what to do.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“Widdershins has suggested we continue moving forward and attempting to either find quests that haven’t been corrupted, or we forage.”

Mythril took Selrah’s silence as an opportunity for him to say what he would like to do. He was keen to try dungeons, but given his inability to do anything other than tap a scroll and swing his sword he didn’t see it as a wise decision. Foraging had been fun when playing other mmos, but that was with music playing in the background or while chatting to his fiancée. Then again…

“Foraging,” he said, and just in time as Selrah had been about to speak.

“I agree,” she said to his surprise. “We’ll only be wasting time if this happens again. I can make potions, not as powerful, but better than nothing should it come to it. We’ll head out to forage.”

“Wait,” Mythril said, as she turned to leave down the path and into the forest. “What about Jumin and Bestie?”

Selrah lifted a hand, and her face gave him the answer. “What about them?” she said, when he hadn’t started to follow.

“We should at least let them know what we’re doing. They might want to join us.”

Oddly, Selrah looked concerned at this, rather than her usual frustrated expression. Mythril didn’t wait for a reply this time. Instead, he swung open the door behind him and called into the cabin.

“Quests a no go, we’re leaving to pick mushrooms or something. Feel free to join us while we figure this out.”

He heard a shuffling of boots on the ground and scraping of chairs and soon both Jumin and Bestie were walking out of the door.

“If you have a chance of finding out what’s going on then I’d rather stick around,” Jumin said, using his scroll to change his trousers, but not before laughing at seeing Mythril still wore only shorts and boots.

“I’ll just get my horse and then, if you’ll have me, I’ll come, too.”

Bestie stood anxiously beside them, looking down at his large rough hands while he waited for an answer.

“I don’t see why not,” said Mythril, more of a question than an answer. He was unsure how someone of a different faction could quest with them, and had no idea whether or not they would be entering into any of the Deadlands that Jumin had mentioned.

“Someone’s after an easy kill,” Jumin said, his bony elbow poking into Mythril’s side.

“Oh, I’m really not,” said Mythril with a small laugh. He realized it made him sound even more like he wanted to take advantage of Bestie. In reality, it was more likely the orc would have him dead than the other way around.

“Well then, two ticks and I’ll be back with Blossom.”

Glances were exchanged, but no words.

None were said when Bestie returned either.

Beneath the large mass that was Bestie, a horse in fine shining armour trotted out from the side of the cabin. The armour was decorated with flowers made of metal that were crafted to look soft as petals but that glowed as bright as gold in parts, in others a deep red. Bestie wore an expression of sheer pride. The bulging features of his face, from the over hanging eyebrows to protruding and scarred lips, all suddenly appeared to be lifted slightly higher.

“Real beauty isn’t she,” he said with a fond pat to her braided white mane and a gentle correcting to one of the bows that fastened into it.

“That she is,” Jumin said, but Mythril was sure that if the noxiri had eyebrows they would have been raised. “Mounting up?” he asked Mythril and Selrah, who joined them and were giving Blossom a stroke across the nose.

“They’re in the stable,” Mythil said.

“We have others,” Selrah replied before Jumin could ask. “I wasn’t planning on us travelling too far, but with four of us in a party we could go to the Lowlands?”

“Good idea,” said Jumin. “I forage too, and it is hard work getting a group to go there with me. I’m always in need of [Wyvern’s Whisker].”

“And I’m going for [Maiden’s Garland] and [Goblin’s Promise] so we won’t be stepping on each other’s toes, either.”

It was the first Mythril had seen Selrah excited about anything. Before he could comment with any opinion he might have Selrah mounted upon a white lion with green eyes, Jumin was what looked to be a very pointy panther, and Bestie was looking down at him from Blossom expectantly.

He felt his cheeks flush as he pulled out his scroll. He ignored Selrah’s groan, pretending that this was because he wanted to browse his mounts, and not because he didn’t know how to summon one as quickly as her.

On the page where he had seen Urm there were a generous number of other mounts. The typical collection of horses all with green edges, none as elaborately decorated as Blossom. A tiger, that almost got his click, an oddly near-transparant serpent that drew his attention away, and then finally, past the turtle, or perhaps tortoise, he was never sure which was which, and across from the lion with the body of a hare, he saw it. The chosen one. Audreg.

He double clicked.

A deep whooping sound came from the beast’s belly. A hiss stilled the night.

Selrah sighed, Jumin laughed, and Bestie nodded his head approval.

The ostrich had the addition of a pink bow on her head, something that Mythril had not expected but was not disappointed about.

She lowered when he walked towards her, and with little knowledge of what else to do, he kicked his leg over her back and sat down upon the bright blue leather saddle.

“If you don’t know the way then follow me,” Selrah said. She came to a stop at the end of the path, the group already following behind at a slow pace. “If we lose each other, then group up at the inn.”

Her lion moved with exceptional speed, the sparse sunlight from above causing shadows to appear over its coat, almost leaving it looking speckled. Beside it, wary of the lions heavy claws, Jumin kept up pace with Bestie close behind him.

Mythril hadn’t thought about the speed of his ostrich, and in this moment, it was something else entirely that he was concerned about. His lower half still dressed in only mail boots and Elder Moor festival short shorts a stinging pain had shot up his thighs and to other areas. He halted Audreg, pulling on her reins and then after catching his breath, patting her lightly on the head.

“Sorry, just, just give me a minute.”

He should have known better, but then he hadn’t expected the ostrich to be able to move with such speed. Hastily, growing more aware of the silhouettes that his party were turning into ahead of him, Mythril pulled out his scroll and clicked on any pair of trousers that looked like they covered more than his crotch.

Despite his speed, by the time he looked up they were gone. His scroll still in his hands he swiped over to MAP and clicked on Selrah. He could see the direction she was heading in but knew it would be difficult to continuously glance down at the map. He scanned across it, looking for an area called the Lowlands. There, back towards the bridge they first crossed that led into the woodland, but taking the road north east he would ride over a small expanse of land called Sunbright Plains and into the Lowlands.

He urged Audreg on. The momentum of which he ran and the desperation he felt in his chest would perhaps leave any other man feeling underwhelmed by their choice in mount. Not Mythril, he felt powerful atop this great beast. Even more so when a gnoll, its head disguised with moss as it leapt from behind a tree with a great cry, was flung back, ostrich teeth marking its neck, the galloping of Audreg’s feet catching it as it rolled and sending it flying further.

Atop this beast Mythril felt more powerful than he had at any other point thus far.

Although, that was hardly saying anything.