“I don’t get it,” Krey shrugged. “I’ve bumped into elementals on a handful of occasions, but never any so… abrasive. Emerelda’s got a serious chip on her shoulder.”

“I find it hard to take her seriously as an elemental at all, to be honest,” Pippy added. “In every other world I’ve visited with elementals, they’ve been much fairer. Gnomes especially! Cute lil’ fellas…”

“What do they look like?” Livia asked.

“They’re kinda like halflings, diminutive and vibrant, but… their bodies are oddly proportioned, slightly exaggerated in places. Some find it unsettling, but I think it’s charming.”

“Your unconditional appreciation for things different from yourself continues to surprise me,” Emilie smiled. “I wish the elementals of this world were so pleasant.”

“They have their reasons,” Tecal murmured.

“I was wondering when you were going to speak up,” Livia jabbed. “What are you doing here, anyways? I thought you were conquering Narkato.”

“Consider it conquered,” Tecal smirked. “I make for Dunlark to rendezvous with regrouping detachments of my hanran, and then we make for the Marshlands and Dustfare farther on. I plan on conscripting the goblin tribes as part of building my army.”

This, once again, got the others exchanging silent looks. “Conscript them?” Livia pressed.

“Yes,” Tecal affirmed bluntly. “The foul little creatures are currently of no worth, but I shall give them purpose, whether they like it or not. Hmm… mayhap this business here in Montar Jungle is an opportunity to begin that process.”

“We’re on our way to Dunlark too,” Pippy chimed in. “Maybe we can team up again! I’d say you owe us one after Narkato.”

“Hah!” Tecal nearly threw her head back. “I suppose I do. What is your business in Dunlark?”

“We’ll talk more of business when the time is right,” Krey insisted before anyone else could answer. “For now, let’s focus on the matter at hand.”

“Very well, Sir Knight,” Tecal sighed.

A handful of nasties attempted to accost them, appearing as if from nowhere. Ordinarily, these foes would've posed a challenge, but with Tecal in their company, they could almost sit back and watch; her sheer might was something to behold, cleaving through mobs of monsters and blowing them away with potent magics— of the elements of air, light, lightning, fire, and life, and of the colours of black, blue, red, and green… a scope of spellcasting that would even put some courtier theurgists to shame. At one point, she even stowed her enormous weapon and started beating creatures to death with her bare hands, claiming the jungles' fury was no match for her own… and Phyrn's chosen were growing increasingly concerned that she really was going to burn this place down— intentionally or not.

Mandrakes popping out of the soil (or mandragoras, as Pippy called them), treants waiting hidden in plain sight (or ents, as Pippy claimed them to be named), and even a pack of fearsome vargr (or worgen, as Pippy insisted on saying), the lattermost of which brought memories to the forefront of Livia’s mind from all the way back in Jocund Fields.

I’m almost surprised we’re not having a repeat of that incident, she thought, a hand subconsciously touching the scar that she still bore on her waist.

As for all this debating of nomenclature, it was starting to make Livia think something was off, that it wasn’t just the petty semantics of an outlander against a world’s natives… but she left it alone for now. She just keeps doing it, though, Livia considered. It must mean something…

The thought was ejected from her mind when she took another step, and bumped into another one of those invisible gates erected by the gnomi. “Ow… what? I thought Emerelda lowered these for us.”

“Perhaps we’ve take a wrong turn,” Emilie suggested.

Pippy shook her head. “What turn? There aren’t exactly roads in this place.”

“Not roads we can see, anyway,” Krey mused.

“Forget this!” Tecal nearly roared. “I am carving my own road!” she drew Quetzalcoatl-Egi and brought it down from over her head, bracing her footing as sparks began flying between her blade and the barrier. The reactive light of the gate was almost blinding as it endured the persistent force of Tecal’s immense sword, the wind magics rising from within conjuring a gale that had the others shielding their faces with their arms as it ripped up dust and spores and loose grass. That’s when the blade began to slightly bend - bend! - this weapon born of the great feathered serpent’s very soul! Tecal noticed this, and with a long, gravelly groan, heaved Quetzalcoatl-Egi away from the gate and back into its specialised scabbard on her back.

“I must admire your determination,” a gruff voice commented, “though you might be a tad too headstrong, even by my standards.” When the reactive luminescence of the gate faded, making it once again invisible, they saw the owner of that voice standing on the other side of it. Although, only just about… he was wearing colours that blended in with his surroundings, clothing that looked tough yet comfy, and with light pieces of dark wooden armour in places. They could just see the outer edges of a compound bow sticking out from behind him, holstered on the small of his back, and a quiver strap ran diagonally across his chest. He had a blade sheathed on his left hip, of shortsword length with a flat, slanted tip, a unique design that Krey recognised as a mikata, the emblematic companion blade of a ranger, both tool and weapon.

Like a machete and a ninjato had a child, the knight mused.

Over the shoulder opposite to the quiver strap was the strap of a satchel that rested on his right hip. His hair was a shaggy mop of black, and his rugged face bore a moustache and braided beard. Thick eyebrows sat atop his brown eyes that sparkled with flecks of green.

Tecal’s eyes ran up and down him, assessing him. “And you are?”

“Just a man who can see the roads of this place better than you can,” he riposted. He extended a hand, and it pressed into the barrier… but as its light rippled across its surface, it stopped, and collapsed in on itself; it tried to run up his arm, but as it rattled around inside him, it eventually found its way out the way it’d entered, and this time, it did not ripple, but flashed across the gate’s entire surface, bursting it like a bubble. “It has been some time, but I always know when there’s someone new in the jungle for me to guide.”

“Emerelda sent you?” Livia enquired.

The man smiled. “In a manner of speaking. She’s busy quelling the fury of the jungle so you can pass with your hides intact.”

“And a terrible job she’s doing,” Tecal tutted. “We’ve still been attacked on our way here.”

“But you live, because the things that attacked you are the palest and poorest of what this demesne has to offer.”

“Domain?” Livia echoed curiously.

“No, demesne. A subtle distinction, one you probably can’t hear, but we rangers have sharper senses than most.”

“You’re a ranger?!” Pippy burst. “That’s so cool! My dad was a ranger!”

“He was, was he?” The ranger chuckled. “I’m guessing he roamed with a hunt, and you with them.”

“No, he worked alone. He… didn’t like to mix work and family. I helped him out in my own ways, though.”

The ranger’s head tilted back slightly, and then nodded once. “I understand. Well… this jungle is home to a a small hunt; we call ourselves the montarans. I am Taku, the hunt’s first.”

“I’m guessing that means you’re the leader,” Emilie concluded.

The first nodded. “It does, though it’s nothing so formal. I just happen to be the eldest and most experienced, so I just usually end up getting asked all the questions.”

Tecal shook her head. “While you walk with us, I’m the first.”

“If your friends follow you,” the ranger shrugged, “then you are their first. However, I strongly suggest you follow me for the duration of your stay here in the jungle; that is, if you intend to leave it in once peace.”

“We do not follow her,” Emilie objected, and Tecal’s hands balled into fists. “Your offer of guidance is much appreciated, ranger, and we accept.”

The ranger bowed his head. “It’s what we do.”

“And, for the record,” Emilie continued, “if any among us is our ‘first’, then it would be Livia over here.”

Livia put her hands behind her head and started kicking idly at the ground beneath her with one foot. “I… guess that’s how things have worked out, yeah.”

“I don’t particularly care about ‘how things have worked out’,” Tecal hissed. “Fact is, I’m the best leader here, and I will make the calls. I have no objection to the ranger here plotting our course, so long as it’s the shortest to our destination.”

“You really aren’t gonna let this go, are you?” Livia hummed.

“If I am to someday lead a grand army against my homeland, I must be a leader. To lead, I must assert myself into positions of leadership. I am not so stupid as to turn away offers of help, but I will not allow my authority to be circumvented; no archon could ever hope to rule with such a weakness.”

Pippy stroked her chin for a moment. “She’s right. I remember spending time with some dragonfolk a while back, and how their archon ruled was… something to behold. The reverence, the confidence… it was like standing in the presence of a mortal god.”

“No pedantic synonym this time, Pippy?” Krey teased.

“No, actually! Archon seems pretty consistent!”

“I know little of your homeland, draken,” the ranger admitted, “and less about your people’s politics… but if it’s that important to you, then so be it. I will leave a trail for you to follow; it will divert you from the beaten path, but do not be alarmed, I will make sure it is safe.”

“See that you do,” Tecal commanded, “or I will stick to my original plan of starting a great big fire.”

The ranger only slightly snickered at that… and then stole into the jungle’s dark depths, leaving a trail of radiant pebbles in his wake. Little green sparkles rose from them like bubbles rising in water.

They followed the trail… once again exchanging silent looks, still unsure what to make of Tecal.