It was risky, given how dark the murky daylight had become, but Fawnlum kept her party outside the nests, and around a small fire for a little longer.  Even though the haunting dread did not gnaw at them inside the compartments, she still wanted them to stretch their legs.

“So,” Sienna said, from the other side of the fire.  “They came out in a fair number again the other night.  Do we use the decoys again?  It looks to me, like the whipped dogs are calling more of their friends.”

“We’ll use this area as long as we can.  At least, until they send more than we can take in a single fight.  If they come out with, say,….ten to one odds, then we’ll be heading back to the south.”

“Good plan!”

Lucas appeared on the other side of the camp.

“Fawnlum?” he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“Yes?  Is something wrong?  I thought you went outside the firelight to recharge our headbands.”

“I did,” Lucas said, walking toward her.  “And I met a couple of,…elf maids.”

“And you’re back so soon?” Dreighton cut in good-naturedly.  “For shame!”

“They asked me to give you this,” Lucas continued, ignoring him, “as proof of their peaceful intentions.”  He handed her a black arrow.

“Why would they need to offer such proof?” Fawnlum asked, recognizing the workmanship.

“Because they’re uzruul.”

Fawnlum looked into Lucas’ bright eyes, as all sound around the fire suddenly fell silent.

“You’re mad to say it!” Sienna hissed.

“Have you ever known me to joke about anything?” he asked, looking at her.

She stared at him, lost for words.

“They’re carrying on their own fight against the tri-cleorps,” he said to Fawnlum, “and they want to talk to you.”

“Then tell them to come in,” she said, ignoring Sienna’s expression of aghast.

“Thank you,” came a stranger’s feminine voice from the shadows.

The humans all started, locking their eyes on a lithe form stepping into the firelight.

No hand went to a weapon; but the shock of the easy way she had come into their midst grasped Fawnlum, like a chill drop of water on the back of her neck.

With posture straight and shoulders back, her guest pulled back the hood of her dark cloak, revealing thick, tied-back silver-white hair, and the most fair and sculpted features of an elf maiden from any bard’s tale.  From the dark smoothness of her obsidian skin, red-tinted eyes gleamed brightly in their sockets, taking in all around her.

Even the few steps she took exemplified graceful movement, as she passed Sienna, and came to stand before Fawnlum, and with a polite bow, introduced herself.  “Bik’nar, servant of Selnr’i, The Princess of Night.”

Fawnlum stood, towering nearly a foot above Bik’nar, and with her own bow gave her name, and her short list of titles.

“Come to finish us off, where your pet monsters failed?” Sienna asked, not buying into it.

“Peace, Sienna,” Fawnlum said, without taking her eyes off Bik’nar, gauging the elf’s reaction.  “If they wanted us dead, we would be dead.  We’ve seen how accurate their shots are.”

Bik’nar remained unaffected, but observant.  Her manner was sophisticated, pleasant, and confident.  In a way, she reminded Fawnlum of Viognia.  Whatever she was about, Fawnlum would not find it by looking at her.

“And she’s come to us in peace,” Fawnlum concluded.

Halrick backed up Sienna’s argument.  “They would kill the tri-cleorps as easily as us.  Their ways are devious beyond legend.”

Still the light behind Bik’nar’s eyes did not flash with anger, nor her mouth even tighten.  She coolly stayed focused on Fawnlum, as observant as Fawnlum was being of her.

Someone who was in so much control of their emotions, would not have to trick prey into lowering their guard.

As she felt the tenseness from Sienna and Halrick, Fawnlum easily handed the arrow back, fletches first, to Bik’nar.

“What can I do for you?”

“This is Shariv, my arms master.  And Iljareve, cleric of Selnr’i.”  Two more dark-elf women stepped in from the edge of the campsite.

Fawnlum saw the brief look Sienna shared with Halrick.  They had been so preoccupied with the lone uzruul in their midst, they had not watched their flanks.

Both of the newcomers gazed with sharp eyes from their pulled-back hoods, at the humans around them.  Iljareve, with the leather braid-strings, had slightly softer eyes, and a more quiet disposition.  Taller Shariv, with both hands concealed under her cloak, wore a thinner sword, and Fawnlum noted the dirk in her boot.  She looked a little more hostile, in a quiet sense.

But their focus was not completely on the humans; they made tiny glances at their own leader.  Bik’nar’s troops were not entirely pleased with this meeting.

Fawnlum could not help but see the irony.

She waved to the fallen log on the other side of the fire, as she sat back down.  “Go on.”

Taking the offered seat, Bik’nar said simply, “We’re here to fight the servants of darkness, and defend the innocents who live on their farms to the north.  I know you have been fighting them as well, and a good many kills you’ve made.  The perches you built were a good move.”

Fawnlum nearly laughed at Sienna’s visible effort to keep calm, at the knowledge that dark elves, of all things, had known about their nests.

“But now, I entreat you, don’t stay here.  Go back to the interior of the forest, or to the city if you must.  You’ve angered the tribe that walks in this area, and they’ve followed you.”

“That’s the idea.”

“With the ones hunting you, more are going into the farmlands, to take more victims.”

Fawnlum’s mouth tightened, as she fought down a burst of anger.  Forcing calm into her voice, staying focused on the red irises of her guest, the apprehensively asked, “More victims?”

“Families,” Bik’nar said.  “We saved a couple.  But still, we found signs in the last two weeks.  They’re taking more people, and this is a long border to watch.”

Fawnlum sat a little straighter, wordlessly.

“What would compel uzruul to do good deeds?” Sienna asked, as Fawnlum worked to stay calm in the face of such news.

“A fair question to ask,” Bik’nar answered, without the slightest hesitation.  “Those legends you’ve heard are true, but only up to a point.”  She tilted her head slightly at Fawnlum.  “Stories and whispered tales do no justice to the true evil of the uzruul.  Their treachery is matched, only by their love of agony of others.  In their eyes, that is the true form of power.”

Fawnlum gave no response, and the dark elf kept talking, her calm speech a stark contrast to Fawnlum’s distress.

“I don’t care how many battles one has seen.  With the precepts and ways of their vile goddess, those who have encountered her followers have faced horror and suffering to make your blood run cold.  Those who use caution, in the face of any dark elf, they are the smart ones.”

“You would think so,” Sienna grumbled, looking at her impulsive leader.

“We’ve broken away from the uzruul society that follows the path of evil,” Bik’nar continued, speaking directly to Fawnlum.

“We serve Selnr’i, uzruul goddess of the sword and dance, the moon and the hunt.”

“Usually, one only hears about the one uzruul goddess,” Lucas ventured from off to the side.

“Don’t say it,” Iljareve said, her softer eyes turning as sharp as red-glinting glass.  What her voice lacked in volume, her tone made up for in chilling conviction.  “Not in this darkness.  Do not speak her name.”

“Does Castletree know you’re here?” Fawnlum asked, finding her voice.

“Whether they do or not, is not my concern; we’re not acting at their behest.”

Fawnlum let out a small smile at Bik’nar’s independent spirit.

“Just for the sake of doing good deeds, you carry on this fight?”

“To follow Selnr’i,” Bik’nar answered.  “Her greatest joy is to see happiness, for those who live in peace.  In her name, we slay the wretches who would use her dark night for evil.”

“You’re staying hidden in this forest, and yet you showed yourselves to me.”

“I took a chance.”

“How many arrows are fixed on us?”

“All I will say is, they are there.  And they’re only pointed at you.”

“Heh.”  Fawnlum lightly tapped her fingertip on her knee.  “And the risk that I’ll tell of you?  You’ve endangered yourself and those under your command.”

“We’ve watched you,” Bik’nar said simply.  “You show honor to the forest, which is not even your home.  It means more to you than simple gold.  So I wanted to see, if I asked, what would you do?”

“You had to judge me by my deeds.”

“Yes.”

“So just because they took a chance, you feel obligated to take one as well?” Halrick asked.

“Oh, yes,” Iljareve chimed in, before Fawnlum could answer.  “If you receive good faith from a stranger, then are you obligated to trust them?  Even an uzruul?  Is that for the glory of your warrior-god?”

“Selnr’i values the Natural World, too,” Lucas said to Fawnlum.  “A follower of Selnr’i would fight the ones responsible for all this, and defend the people living around here.  They’re fighting for the greater cause as much as we are.”

The youngest among them, he now had everyone’s attention.  “I have heard that clerical magic can find ways to unravel that which has been wrought with wizardly magic,” he ventured, referring to the darkness.

“Not in this case,” Iljareve answered.  “And there are many complexities.”

“Your most powerful magic,” Lucas surmised, undeterred, “would be cast in Selnr’i’s light of the moon; and it can’t reach you here.”

“An obvious fact,” the willowy uzruul said, with more edge in her voice at the mention of their weakness.

That was the end of his questions.

“So you can only do what we’re doing,” Fawnlum said.  “And kill them as they appear.

“Well then, we’ll go back to the south.”

“Just like that?” Halrick asked, although without hostility.  “We just met them.”

“You’re being awfully trusting,” Shariv pointed out.  “Can you truly place your confidence in what we’ve said?  You’re either naïve, or you know something the rest of the world does not.”

“How many humans hate you for the reputation of your race?” Fawnlum softly asked in return, standing.  “Is the approval of others the prize, or do you make your own prize by doing good for its own sake?”

Human and uzruul stood silently looking at each other for several seconds.

Even out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bik’nar’s steadfast calm, as if talk of treachery and condemnation did not bother her in the slightest.

Despite Shariv’s defiance, the uzruul leader stood confident in her course, even as Fawnlum felt the hole in her soul at the thought of having brought harm to the people she fought to protect.

“The rest of the world doesn’t tell me what to do,” Fawnlum replied, shifting her gaze to Bik’nar, proving Shariv, Sienna, and Halrick wrong.  “I’ll be known for my deeds, whether others approve them or not.  The entire rest of your race can go to the Nine Hells.”

But Iljareve spoke up.  “We’re sending you into territory controlled by the enemy.  There you can expect to find your ten to one odds.  Does that not sound treacherous to you?”

“Should a farmer face those odds?”

Iljareve did not answer, but bowed her head to acknowledge the point.

But Fawnlum saw a twitch on Shariv’s face.  Still quiet and observant, her stoic mask slipped, as if the hard lines of spirit holding up the scaffolding had been loosened for just a second, even though the picture remained.

Sienna leaned over, and whispered something to Shariv.  What it was, Fawnlum could not tell.  The stony expression stayed in place, but her eyes took another appraising look at the humans around her.

“We’ll leave tonight,” Fawnlum said.

<*>                                                          <*>                                                      <*>

Far away to the north and west, Egress, bent over his crystal ball, watched Fawnlum’s meeting with fascination.

The human had attracted the attention of those uzruul, whose presence he had not known of.

A wicked spur of jealousy jabbed at his thoughts, at Fawnlum’s exchange.  The Selnr’i followers had broken free of the depraved society.  Worse, they were doing what they chose to do.  They had the freedom to do so, unlike him.

He made himself turn to his pragmatism to overcome his resentment.

The new little pinch from the Nail was all the reminder he needed.  He could end them with a message to his foul master.  Maguleth would enter that forest, and his magic would irresistibly strike them down, human and uzruul alike.

But no.

The dark elf women were one more factor to cause chaos in the machinations of the lich, and they might be a help to him, just like the Coastals.

Loray interrupted his thoughts.  “Amazing!  Is this not a strange turn of events?”

He simply gave a grim nod.