“What a mess,” muttered the orc shaman who had but an hour ago been informed of the events that occurred at the front gate. Never before had Mar’Kir gotten Vashnoruk involved in a mess like this, nor had he asked her to fight before. Almost every issue the town suffered similar to this could be handled by T’Kere and the guards, or by their fae connections.

This was clearly different from all those previous events. It was a rare occasion where he asked her to use her weather talents at all; it always brought up sad memories of her fleet, so he only ever requested such a thing when it was genuinely important. Never before had he asked her to use them to do harm, and she was very torn on the matter.

It felt… wrong to use the power this way. But what choice did she have? It was true that T’Kere was a poor fit to fight off the incoming threat without butchering them all, and Mar’Kir himself was busy tracking down those responsible before they could get away. “What a mess…”

Shaking her head hard enough to be slightly dizzy, she shook off the melancholy. This was important. It had been a long, long time, but Vashnoruk needed to pull out all the stops for this one.

In truth, she was nervous. She put up a brave face, but she was quite young for the role she was given. Most shamans were possibly thrice her age. If her fleet hadn’t suffered the fate it did, she would still be apprenticed to Roxmatarox at this point. The only reason she was as capable as she was could be put to talent, a solid memory, a demeanor fit to the task, and a good teacher. Not to mention a populace who, for all their failings, have forgiven her the mistakes she’s made. A few of which could have even been lethal aboard the fleets of her people.

Enough! Enough dawdling. There was work to be done and none but her could do it.

She would not let her family down. Not in such a task as this.

That said, aside from a couple of recommendations from T’Kere and Mar’Kir, she was more or less left to figure out some amount of home defense if things went poorly. There was an established plan that the guards knew to follow in the case of conventional confrontation, but there was a key missing piece.

Normally half the guard would be placed at the back entrances of the village walls and half at the front, with T’Kere herself making up for the numbers. It seems like the two overpowered former adventurers forgot that without T’Kere making up that difference, the guard wouldn’t be sufficient to handle a full assault on the front if her efforts failed. It was up to Vashnoruk to make up that mistake.

To do that she’d have to call on an… unfortunate yet reliable source of aid.

Nyreia.

The bumpkins of this village called Vashnoruk a witch, but only because they didn’t know what a true witch was. She had called upon Nyreia before, but the witch never spoke with them much and never disclosed her connection to the fae.

A real, genuine Witch of the Wilds was a much, much scarier force than Vashnoruk could ever hope to be. She worked with the Fae, kept balance between the people and the custodians of nature and played liaison, but that was all. Nyreia did… more. She served them directly, and was rewarded for it accordingly. Those rewards made Nyreia powerful, but… somewhat unhinged. Mostly fully sane, still, and when she was calm it was almost impossible to tell she was any different than a normal hermit.

No, it was when she was excited that her colors showed through. Much to Vashnoruk’s chagrine, the nature of their relationship almost always got the witch going as soon as she contacted her.

This was mostly because of the… chaotic relationship they once shared, when the therianthrope found her in the wreckage of her fleet after it got shredded by rocks and ran ashore. Vashnoruk would have died there if not for Nyreia, and in the following time period where Vashnoruk recovered from the malnutrition and illness she suffered as well as regrew the arm that got smashed to pulp during the crash, the witch and Vashnoruk got… close, in many ways. Physically counting among them. They were never a true couple, but that didn’t stop them.

When the time came for Vashnoruk to leave, she was offered a position as a Witch of the Wilds herself. She denied this, though, not trusting the fae enough to serve them. A wise choice, in her opinion. This broke Nyreia’s heart, but she promised to always “keep and eye on” and “protect” Vashnoruk. This promise had led to a number of uncalled for messes, some even worse than the one that she was supposedly helping the orc with.

Turning to Aeva, who had been watching her bustle about while being thoroughly ignored with Vashnoruk lost in thought, the shaman sighed, “Okay. I’ll be right back. I have to… manage some business to help the town.” Aeva said something in response, but Vashnoruk was already deep in thought again, clearly anxious.

It was all too easy to call upon her. The Shaman wasn’t sure what trick she used, exactly, but Vashnoruk needed to take a pebble from a particular pond deep in the woods far from here. It was easy to open a gate near the pond, a place where the two had many dalliances, and step through.

The woods here were extremely dense, but for ten feet or so in every direction from the pond. If not for learning Woodstriding, it would be impassable. It was a place well and truly impregnable to anyone wearing armor, and would even constantly catch on most weapons not made of wood. This narrowed down the list of possible entry to either those friendly with the fae, or those very, very good at hunting them.

The trees were foreign to anything found outside of heavily fae populated woods, with odd, rainbow hued bark marked with all kinds of symbols, pictures, and other artwork. No small amount of it came from the two girls, but it was mostly made by the local fae having their fun. The leaves themselves came in all shapes, sizes, and colors, painting the ground below a beautiful rainbow.

The pond itself was similarly brought to magnificent life, the colors diffusing through the crystal-clear water to make a wondrous sight.

Her heart ached to come back here for good. To stay. How much of that was fae magic, she didn’t know, but it always took every ounce of will to leave.

The water was cool, fresh, and inviting as she reached in and selected a stone, leaving a pleasant chill as she pulled her hand out. By the time the stone had left the water, to find a home with the rest of the “Stones of Favor” on a shelf in her home, a ripple already rolled through the water from the other side.

The orc took a moment before looking up as she put the stone away. “That was quick,” she said with a sigh. Vashnoruk finally laid eyes on the Witch of the Wild lounging in the water on the other side of the pool, the shaman squirming in place as she did so. She wore only a thin white sundress made of sheer fabric, entirely transparent due to the water.

She was breathtaking, as ever. Slender but not small, she had deeply tan skin and dark hair that seemed to change exact hues every time you looked away, with similar eyes. Plump lips curved into a charming smile as the normally-stoic orc took a moment to catch her breath as she ran her eyes down over her moderately sized breasts, hairless skin, and legs for days. A look she cultivated over time in part because it was unbearably difficult to resist for the orc, who she tried to entice back to this day. She barely managed to avert her eyes, knowing full well there was nothing she could do that wouldn’t feed into her games, no matter how she tried.

The witch stretched and stood in the water, stepping out. “I even came dressed this time, like you asked,” the melodic voice teased, stepping this time directly onto the surface of the pool. “Though you seem to disapprove all the same. Ah, but how hard it is to please you, Sea Witch. Improvement by increment will have to do, I suppose.” She left no ripples in her wake as she walked directly across. Not that Vashnoruk noticed it with how hard it was to not look at her.

“That’s… it hardly counts as dressed if I can still see your entire body beneath it. But I don’t have time for games right now, Witch of the Wilds. I…” she barely paused before the other picked up her sentence.

“Need help protecting the village since your resident barbarian is out and the lich is busy, yes?” The sound of that voice was ripe with memories, a number of which involved her being only barely less dressed than she was now. “It’s a shame you’re so short on time. I always have time to play with you, after all. But if it is work you insist upon speaking of instead of fun…”