The mood was lighter as we climbed out from our camp into the dim morning light. Everyone was well rested, well fed and I hoped, ready to make short work of our trip back.

The beast kin resumed their animal forms, while Olata, Sania and I continued to fly. We pushed only as hard as the weakest of the Fensalfar could run, which to their credit was damned fast. Enough so that the wind rushing past, made it impossible to talk out loud. Thankfully there was always the bond.

“So, we never really talked about your new Evolution yet. How does it feel to have evolved, yet again? And what power did you choose?” She asked.

“I can’t even remember the others,” I replied. “But I can bring up the one I chose:

Call to Action: Your roar fortifies friendly forces with +10 points to Strength, Speed, and Constitution. Increase effect by +1 point for every five levels above base Pit Demon Rank.

Duration: 5 minutes. Every 10 levels provide a 5-minute duration increase.

As I say, I wasn’t really on the ball when I made the decision, but it should come in handy.”

I felt her wonder across the bond. “It’s a fantastic skill! You used it straight away didn’t you?”

“I did. I knew it wouldn’t be much good against Stada, but I was thinking more along the lines of those who might still need to fight Isthalings,” I replied. “I remembered a certain Pit Demon in some tunnels awhile back who had the power and it seemed pretty damn useful.”

“It really is. So what’s your Constitution now?”

“208 and I needed every damn point of it back there.”

She nodded sagely in response. But said no more.

“Come on then, what did you invest in?” I asked. “I know you’ve got a lot of points from the battle through the night.”

“60 points,” she replied happily. “I invested 25 into Internal Connection to move up to 50, like you. The rest, I split between Constitution, which is now at 108 and Intelligence, which is up to 35. I’m questioning a lot of my life’s decisions now,” she said seriously.

I looked over to her, feeling glad to see that she still had a slight smile on her face. “Those sound like perfect improvements. I think you’ve made all of the right choices, Sania.”

“Agreed. I put twenty into Intelligence first, despite the danger, so I’d be in a better position to choose for the rest. Though, when I’ve my intelligence up to one-hundred, I might disagree. When we get back to Far Reach, I’m definitely insisting that every beast kin invests in their Intelligence. We’ve shunned the stat for too long and it’s cost us dearly, in my opinion.”

“Absolutely. Did you get the feeling that Stada must’ve had a million Constitution and like, ten Intelligence or something?”

She laughed across the bond. “Yes, including the minus five Racial Trait. It would’ve explain a few things, wouldn’t it?”

“It would. We best work on Grastad early because I think he’ll become an absolute powerhouse before long and we need to have him thinking about it. The Nystiobek are unreal fighters.”

“They are! Even for me, they’re a pleasure to watch in battle.”

We fell silent for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. My own, inevitably became occupied by what was happening back at Far Reach. While it was true that we would have to navigate Destruction and Justice throughout the entire return journey, it was the goddamn dwarfs that I was most concerned about. I did everything I could to avoid thinking about what might be happening back there, because there was nothing I could do about it at this moment in time, but still I worried.

As the day turned to evening and we came to a stop to set up camp, there was a tinge of excitement as we could now see the mountains in the far distance. We didn’t expect to have them in sight until later in the following day. It was a testament to the high speeds to which everyone had traveled.

We repeated the camping procedure of the previous evening, only this time, Olata took an orange pip from her pocket and thew it on the ground. This time, the orange tree grew noticeably faster, only the atmosphere was filled with anticipation and even greater excitement than the previous night, as everyone dove in for their orange. Even Wind of the Wild's entrance was much the same, as after dropping three more reindeer, he came and sat with us. Slightly longer this time.

“How are you all doing?” he enquired, while stretching out on the grass and pushing his unruly, brown hair out of his face. “You have certainly made remarkable progress today.”

It was a strange mental exercise, linking the laidback man, Ewan to the super powerful Wind of the Wild. They felt like two different entities, in a way the other Wultr didn’t.

I hurled an orange that I’d kept to one side for him, as Sania replied,

“We’re good. Pushing hard to return. How is your home?”

“Not so good,” he sighed. “The Troops of Justice have set up their camps in the foothills that surround us. I was unsure at first, but they do appear to be intentionally targeting at us. Be it, from their sighting of me with you, Clive, or because of Olata’s people finding refuge with us. I don’t honestly know. Perhaps it’s that they’ve merely moved on and view us as their next target. If that is the case, then they are in for a surprise. No one has ever successfully entered my home without permission.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose. So, do you have a plan?”

He glanced at me from peeling the orange. “Not as yet, but that’s an issue for another day. Today, I must inform you of the dwarves that I’ve witnessed, waiting very discreetly in an entrance of the mountains, you will be soon approaching. Moving at the rate you have, I expect you will reach there by tomorrow. In relation to their presence, there is not much assistance I can offer at the moment, so it will be down to you all to navigate them. I know you do not wish to antagonize the dwarves further, as understandably your priority is for the safety of Far Reach, therefore, to avoid them I would strongly suggest removing the garments that both you and Sania wear. They have the ability to track the magic contained within them.”

“Ah shit! I can’t believe I’ve let that slip my mind. I’ve some shorts and t-shirts that might come in,” I replied. “Though I don’t know if they'll even fgfit anymore,” I said, pointing to my enormous new size.

“I can quickly make you something from the animal pelts,” Danivra offered. “Do not fear.”

I looked at her questioningly. “You can? I feel a bit self-conscious about having the Queen of the Dokalfar making me new threads.”

A small smile creased her face. “I was never the Queen of all Dokalfar, but I am a Cleric of Clive, or did you forget?” she asked. “It would be my honor to provide you with alternative garments. And providing Far Reach is still safe and secure, once we return, I will make it my endeavor to ensure that you receive even finer enchanted clothing.”

“Well, I’m sure as shit not going to say no. All clothes have been a bloody nightmare since I got here.”

Danivra nodded, satisfied with my response.

“I don’t need anything, Danivra,” Sania added. “I’m still wearing my old clothes, underneath.”

“What about everyone being able to track me?”

“Only if they have a scrying spell that is currently active. I know there’s a chance Destruction will, even so, they’ve already lost a great deal of people hunting you and they’re deeply embroiled in war on all of their borders. I feel, going a few days until we meet up, won't hurt. Then, you can wear their clothes again.”

“Sounds fair. The last thing I want right now is a deep and meaningful with the dodgy friggin’ dwarves. What do we do with the clothes?”

“Give them to me,” Ewan instructed. “I will carry them to my home. That should cause a little confusion,” he chuckled.

“That’s a great idea,” Sania replied. Removing oranges from her hoodie's void pocket and looking at Olata “Do you want to carry these?”

“Certainly,” Olata said, taking them and putting them inside her own pocket of holding. “I can also keep your signatures hidden as we travel. As long as you remain in my sphere of influence.”

“Can you fly at our speed?” Sania asked with a wide grin.

Olata laughed. “It will be difficult, but for the purposes of our travel, I will do so. Somebody has to keep you two safe. We can't leave it entirely down to Danivra.”

“I welcome your assistance,” Danivra replied.

“Two?” Sania objected. “It’s Clive that we all have to keep safe.”

“I… ah, I misspoke,” Olata said. I saw her eyes dart to Ewan, then Danivra.

“Olata didn’t misspeak,” Danivra said, watching Ewan for a moment, who then nodded. “We three haven’t discussed it, but we have our suspicions… Sania, dear. It appears your Soul Mate bond with Clive has potentially created a seed of Creation's Power within you, or at the least, a strong link to it. It’s currently far too faint to tell, but I believe this is why Olata said two?” She phrased the last as a question to Olata, who shrugged with a smile.

“What!” Sania cried, jumping to her feet. “You’re serious.” Her anger at the revelation prevented me from dealing with my own surprise.

“We don’t know,” Ewan said. “It remains unclear, as your cores have linked in such an unusual way.”

“Uhm, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said lamely.

Sania didn’t reply. She stood, hands on hips, staring across the camp at the fire, seemingly lost in thought. We all watched her, as she clearly went through a number of reactions. She finally sat back down, taking her place among us, and surprised me with her next words.

“You were right not to bring it up. Especially, if we’re not sure what you’re all picking up on. It might still be nothing.”

“Nice for me, if it’s true,” I laughed. “Not much fun going through all this shit alone.”

They all joined in laughing at that, as I put my arm around Sania.

“I can't even begin to imagine what it might mean, so for now I am going to copy your method of dealing with this type of thing and pretend it isn’t happening, until I’ve no choice but to deal with it.”

I nodded. “It’s worked out alright for me so far.”

We talked for a while longer. This time, Ewan shared some of the meat with us, while Danivra worked on the animal pelts. She had remained in her human form, but had extended six long spider legs from her back, allowing her to work with the pelts at a frightening speed. Cutting, scraping, beating and everything else that was needed to produce a fur-lined, leather coat, complete with ties to keep it closed and a pair of trousers. I wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to dry the skin out so quickly, but they seemed perfectly made.

Stripping out of the clothes I’d received from the dwarves, I dressed in those she’d made for me, marveling at the fit. “I shall take them from you?” Ewan said, holding out his hand.

“One minute,” I replied and reached into the void pockets in the Trousers of Darkness to retrieve my cleaver. A surge of panic hit me to discover it wasn’t there.

“My cleaver!” I panicked.

“Clive!” Sania said loudly. “You must’ve dropped it in the fight, but you can recall it, right?”

“Damn. You're right. But I don’t know the range,” I said, holding out my hand. With a focused thought, the massive cleaver appeared, flooding me with relief. It was freezing cold, so I knew it had been sitting in the snow, for sure.

Looking around, everyone was eyeing the ridiculous weapon. I couldn’t help but gaze at it, too. During the fight, I hadn’t even taken in its development, but it had leveled with me.

Cleaver of Clive (Wusthof Classic 53 inch) Level 53

Rarity: Unique

Damage: Hacking +331

Slashing +66

Weight: 23lbs 06 oz,

Durability: 100

Attribute: +40 to Dexterity, +40 to Strength, +40 to Perception when wielded by Clive.

Attribute: Linked to Clive. (Meridian Extension.)

“I think I’m going to need a belt!” I mused.

“I think so,” Ewan smirked. “That is quite the weapon you have there.”

“Yeah, eighteenth birthday present from Hakan… er Creation, I suppose.”

“Then a truly unique weapon, indeed,” he replied. “I’ll leave you all now, but I will return around the same time tomorrow. Be careful with the dwarves.” Morphed into his wolf form, he picked up our clothes in his mouth and vanished.

The following morning as we left our camp, Sania, Olata and I flew low in an attempt to not make our approach obvious. I was acutely aware that if the dwarves were watching from a vantage point, high in the mountains, and an over one hundred strong group, crossing the bleak white plain, were going to stand out.

We hit the foothills of the mountain range around midday. I brought everyone to a halt.

“Happy mountains,” I said to them all. “We’re only a day away from getting out of this snow.”

Heads nodded, clear relief among us all to have made it here. “The next question is, how the hell do we get through without the Dwarves spotting us? If I had to guess, they could see for bloody miles from up there, so there’s every chance they’ve spotted us, even without the Hoodies of Darkness. Maybe skirt along the bottom for a while, and then cross?”

No one answered. None of them were even paying attention to me. They were all staring up at the mountains, and they didn’t look happy.

Reluctantly, I followed their gaze, already certain of what I would see. My suspicions were correct. A large contingent of armored dwarves stood looking down at us. I couldn’t make out faces, but I was sure that I recognized Egard’s gaudy golden armor.

“Everyone, disregard what I just said,” I shouted, pulling out my cleaver. I wasn’t sure how this would play out, but I doubted it would be good.

“No one actually attack until they do. I know it’s a shitty position, but I don’t want to put Far Reach at risk, if we can help it. But if they do attack, let's pummel the hairy, little arseholes. Actually disregard that, too. Just kick their arses.”

Olata, hovering nearby, pulled out her swords, looking up at the Dwarves with a feral eagerness at odds with her usually endearing faery features. Danivra grew into her terrifying Dokala form, towering above us, and I found my confidence swell as I took everyone in.