“The magic of the Ice Queen,” she quietly said, to everyone’s captivated attention, “is a prize which some will stop at nothing to possess.  Even our old warding-totems won’t stop all of them.  How will you arm her, so no wizard, rogue, or vengeful dragon can lay her low, as she stands between you and the rest of the world?”

Granholm gave a humorless little laugh, restraining his pessimistic agreement.

She ignored him, but kept her gaze squarely on Baneck.  “Nepta and I both sacrificed our place beside Fawnlum and Sienna, as they find new dangers and win new glories.”

Her tone stayed slow, and deliberate.  “I want to know what the hell you’re going to do for her.”

“Well, I – “

“What is this special ingredient you’re speaking of?”

“Something you’ll like very much,” he told her, daring to crack a smile.

Granholm jumped in, soothing some of Honee’s ire.  “You’re going to help us get it.  And you’re going to like that, too.”

<*>                                                          <*>                                                      <*>

The doe elk put her muzzle down to drink, and the sapling sprang up, the twine capturing her leg.  She tried to kick free, but the stout snare held fast.  Dreighton was on her before she could rise, locking his arms around her neck.  She had the strength of a large animal, with powerful legs made for running.  But he had the strength of the barbarian tribe, and stole her leverage as he wrestled her to the ground.

Caitlyn quickly ran up, and laid her hands on the fur, meditating as the creature kicked and keened.

She drew her knife, and cut the animal’s throat.

“She’s untouched by the darkness,” she said emotionlessly.  “She’s safe to eat.”

Sienna shared a look with Fawnlum.  The desecration of this wood was affecting them all.  But as a syiajryn, Caitlyn felt the pain done to the Spirits and living forest more acutely.

The same anger burned inside Fawnlum, as the darkness sought to taint them, to make them feel afraid and despairing.

Fawnlum resisted the shiver that tried to run down her spine, as she took out her dagger, and helped dress the carcass.

From within the dimensional space magically set inside a particular shroom, where a magically transparent wall awarded a view of the outside world to the tri-cleorps inhabitant, Sye-nitch the lookout smiled at his good fortune.

His patience had been rewarded, as the foolish humans walked right into the Druntuss tribe’s territory.

Even without the glare of their torch, he easily saw their warm bodies pass by the front of his shroom-pocket.  Satisfied there were no more, he spoke a word of command, and stepped through the wall into the lovely deep nighttime.  Cautious they might see the red glow of his heat-sensing eyes, he kept his distance, and followed the bright beacon of their fire.

They stopped, and started making camp.  He quickly entered another shroom, not breaking stride as the rear of the magical compartment opened into a round portal.

He stepped through a second enchanted shroom-surface, into a large chamber deep underground.  With its high ceiling, it accommodated other shrooms, except these were smaller, and surrounded by small pools of green, lightly glowing liquid.

Avoiding the substance, he wordlessly passed by a couple of the bigger fighters, exited the chamber through and archway, and turned onto an avenue.  It was not a tunnel; nor was it a hallway.  It was an avenue – – part of an ancient, giant cavern-city beneath the ground.

The dwarves who had built this place centuries ago, had always thought their engineering would last forever.  It had certainly lasted longer than they, he thought with morbid humor.  Now the place was used by the tribes, and the dark wizards who had brought the powerful shroom-magic.

Proceeding through his tribe’s section of the city, he entered a tavern carved from a section of stone wall.

“Wot do you want?” the big pack leader, Bloggo, asked him, with no amount of courtesy.  With the odor of drip-berry wine on him, Sye-nitch wondered how the oaf managed to talk without slobbering like some stupid orc.

The smaller lookout lowered his voice.  “Meat.  On the trail, about two hundred yards from my hiding place.”

“How many?”

“Only four.  They’re well-armed, but only four.”