Session 69

Made it through avian territory. Wish I could say it was simple.

The plan was straightforward enough - twenty-four miles of hostile forest at a fast pace, relying on pass without trace to keep us hidden. Artemis and Flynt took turns casting it, cycling through their spell slots to keep us covered for seven of the eight hours we needed. I didn't need it, of course, and spent a lot of time scouting ahead for trouble. Damned if I didn't feel like the God of Stealth when I was in the bubble, though.

First couple hours went smooth. Too smooth, probably. Should have known it wouldn't last.

Zarael was using her arcane abilities to help shroud us, weaving shadows through the forest canopy. Natural talent for that kind of work - reminds me of some of the subtler techniques Kael taught me, though hers comes from a different source entirely. Probably why she was the only one who noticed it.

A magical tripwire. Some kind of alarm spell stretched across our path.

She described it like a snare, energy tugging at her senses, then snapping like a broken wire. By the time she warned us, the damage was done. Whatever ward the avians had set triggered the moment we crossed it.

Aemon confirmed what we suspected: avian tribes use druid magic for territorial protection. They know we're in their hunting grounds now.

We pushed the pace after that. No point in stealth if they already know we're here. Better to move fast and try to reach the forest edge before they could organize a proper hunt.

Made it to a river with a trapped bridge. Aluni spotted the trap before anyone stepped on it - rigged to collapse and dump whoever crossed into the fast-moving water. Cold water, from the look of it. Rather, from the look of Flynt, after he slipped trying to bypass the bridge.

Crossing should have been simple for someone reportedly so light on his feet. Watched him slip off a loose rock and tumble into the drink. He managed to catch himself on another stone, pulled himself out, and made the final jump to the far side. Soaking wet and shivering, but intact.

Can't say I felt particularly sorry for him. The man carries himself like he's never made a mistake in his life. I would have helped if he'd gotten swept downstream, but watching him flail around in cold water for a few seconds? That was almost entertaining.

Zarael used some kind of prestidigitation to dry him off - practical magic, the kind that actually helps. Flynt looked at her like she'd performed a miracle.

The rest of us crossed without incident. Roth positioned himself halfway to help, handing everyone across. Except Aluni, who probably barely even noticed she was hopping from rock to rock. Must be that low center of gravity.

That's when I spotted the watcher.

Avian scout in a tree, maybe sixty feet north of our position. Big bastard with a tomahawk, clearly tracking our movements. He was trying to hide, but, well, let's just say not all birds are graceful.

Mental link with Zarael meant I could warn the party instantly. "Avian watching us from the north."

I teleported behind him. Not to fight - to talk. The Shadow Line doesn't start with violence if words might work. Got close enough to whisper in his ear, no weapons drawn. Just wanted to establish contact.

"Hey."

He tried to brain me with that tomahawk. I was ready for that, so easily dodged. Then he screeched loud enough to wake the dead, which got answered by similar cries from all around us. Classic sentry behavior. We were surrounded.

My diplomacy failed spectacularly. Some conversations aren't meant to be won with words. I settled into Flame Stance, ready to put a quick (but non-lethal) end to his screeching, but never got the chance.

See, that's when their leader appeared. Authoritative figure, clearly someone important. Female avian with the bearing of someone used to command. And Zarael made the play that probably saved all our lives.

She stepped into the open, pulled out the egg they'd rescued from those dwarves, and her voice boomed across the clearing: "We took something that belongs to you from someone who meant to harm it. We're here to give it back."

Bold move. Could have gotten us all killed if they thought we were threatening their egg. But it worked.

The leader demanded to know where we got it. Zarael told the truth, how they'd found the slaughtered avians, tracked the killers to those dwarves, took the egg back with intention to return it. Kenna helped by projecting images of what they'd seen. The massacred bodies, the dwarven camp, the fighting at the Rolling Oak. Visual proof of our story.

Leader said the egg bought our lives, but avian law demanded blood from trespassers. Not to the death - honor combat.

Roth tried to negotiate it down to single combat - champion versus champion. Smart thinking, but their war leader wouldn't have it. Each of us earned our own opponent by being here. She seemed almost amused, though, and we settled for one-on-one duels, each one of us against one of them. Better than getting swarmed by an entire tribe, I suppose.

The black avian with the eye patch claimed Roth for herself. Bit of professional respect there, maybe. Warriors recognizing warriors.

Zarael tried intimidation next, teleporting up to their position with misty step and manifesting shadow tendrils. Bad choice. Soon as they saw those shadows, all three visible avians went on high alert. "You're like them. You're infested by shadow."

More confirmation that her power connects to whatever corruption is spreading through these woods. The avians recognize it, fear it. That's... concerning. But Roth managed to smooth things over with some smooth talking, reassuring them that not all of us channel darkness. As if there's anything wrong with shadows.

Terms are set. Five duels, not to the death. Their word that none of us will die, skilled healers standing by. Honorable combat to satisfy their laws about trespassers.

Could be worse. Could be a lot worse.

Still thinking about that corruption connection. Zarael's shadows, the tainted wolves we fought earlier, whatever's wrong with Melkoth in these woods - it's all related somehow. The avians know about it, have enough experience to spot the signs immediately.

And my Burnout is still out there somewhere, probably already through Hot Bog by now. Every day I spend on these detours is another day he gets further ahead. But the party earned my protection when we stood together against those dwarves, and I won't abandon them now.

So we fight. Five separate duels against skilled avian warriors. I've faced worse odds, but never with stakes quite like these. Win, and we honor their laws while keeping our lives. Lose... well, they said they're skilled healers.

The chain continues. Even when it leads to ritual combat in hostile territory.

They're about to find out the truth behind our saying: "Fire reveals. Darkness conceals."