While Eulisses and Felicity had travelled to Baycall Town and met with its mayor, another story unfolded in the shadowy depths of the Brimgeo Forest.

At the foot of the Wellingnach Mountain Ridge, a large group had set up camp. Wooden palisades framed the dwellings, which mostly consisted of tents of various sizes. A network of small platforms had been built in the treetops and connected by simple suspension bridges. Cloaked figures armed with bows and arrows patrolled those, keeping an eye out for anyone that might draw near their camp from the woods.

One such figure noticed someone approaching, the low-hanging sun was mostly blocked by the tree crowns, but still illuminated the underbrush just enough so one could make out everything vaguely. They quietly alerted their comrades of the disturbance and readied their weapons, arrows notched, while another one swiftly climbed down the rope ladder that had been erected from inside the fortifications to one of the central wooden platforms.

“It’s us, don’t shoot!” a tired voice called out from the handful of people that all came from the same direction, dragging their feet over the roots and bushes on the forest ground. The speaker stepped into one of the few rays of light that penetrated the tree crowns, and the sentry on the outermost platform recognized the illuminated face.

“Jonah, it’s you guys! Wait, I’ll let you inside,” and towards the ground, inside the camp at the wooden gate that blocked entrance to it, they called, “Open the doors, Spencer! It’s Jonah’s group, they’re back from the raid!”

They let the group enter, taking note of their battered states and very few numbers, compared to when they had set out. The door guard, Spencer, commented worriedly, “What the heck happened to you guys? Where is the rest?” and as Jonah passed him wordlessly without responding, he mumbled away, “The boss won’t be happy about this …”

Most of the newcomers made their way towards a few logs that had been set up as seats around a couple of bonfires, with pots emitting a delicious smell inviting them to rest and eat, while Jonah approached the largest tent in the very centre of the camp. Meanwhile, the sentries continued their watch, their gazes now considerably more alert than before, but even so, they missed the lone figure that watched them from a bit away with an interested look.

--

Immediately after the contract between them and Eulisses had been established, Drernoth had teleported inside the forest to begin their task. As by the clause of my contract, I have to make haste to complete the task assigned to me. Yet, I only have to ‘deal’ with them, and I think I already know just how I shall do that.

They thought back to the times Eulisses had summoned them in the past. Eu always finds himself in the funniest situations, but seems to come out on top one way or another, despite what he may think. It’s no wonder my master took an interest in him, and even told me to hold back a bit when dealing with him.

While following the faint signatures, every living being emitted, to quickly catch up to the bandits, Drernoth couldn’t suppress a chuckle, as they thought that some of their investment had finally come to fruition. A new realm, unheard of amongst our kind. It must have been hundreds of years since such a thing last happened. The potential for growth and expansion is staggering, and I must capitalize on it as soon as possible!

It didn’t take long for Drernoth to sight the handful of people that looked like they had just ran from something with all their might and judging by the trail the devil had followed, they were sure it was who they had been looking for.

But Drernoth didn’t spring into action right away. Despite their rush, the bandits seemed to have a clear goal. Grouping up with others, a camp maybe? Best to just tail them for now. The devil kept a small distance to the group but still within ear-shot. The devil was allowed to use magic to mask their presence, so for the purpose of detection, they could be standing right next to them and none would be the wiser.

Yet, the bandits didn’t seem to be in the mood for talks, so the next few hours passed in silence, until they came in sight of the camp shortly before the evening sun would paint the sky red.

While the group entered the camp, Drernoth remained still. They took in the fortifications, where the sentries were posted and whether there were additional gaps in the palisades or if the gate was the only entry - and exit, other than the rope ladder leading to the wooden platforms in the air.

Having obtained this knowledge to their satisfaction, the devil then teleported themselves to one of the empty platforms, to study the internal structure of the camp. They noticed the very orderly setup, the tents were erected in straight lines, there was an area designated for cooking and eating, as well as training grounds. Given the late hour, the former was packed with people, while the latter almost remained empty but Drernoth still took note of two figures engaging in a mock duel with training spears and shields.

Their motions were swift and precise, practised footwork and the ever so slight rotation of the hip amplified each thrust, while preserving their balance, so the opponent could not sneak past their guard.

The form speaks of years of training, these people have a military background. And not like a drafted farmer turned brigand, but professionals. A mercenary group perhaps, or former standing army of a noble family - this country at the least seems to have a feudal system.

Drernoth continued to watch them idly for a few moments, but stopped when he saw one of the men he had followed here enter a large tent which was flanked by two guards in considerably better equipment when compared to the mostly padded armor worn by the rest, lacking any sort of metal for protection. Thinking that they wouldn’t want to miss whatever would be going on in there, they teleported to the back of the tent and used their claw-like nail to open a tiny slit in the tent’s fabric to peek through. The devil identified a good spot inside and promptly teleported there, just as the two men inside began their conversation.

--

“Jonah, what news do you bring on your mission? The sentry reported you didn’t bring back most of my men?” the large man seated behind a large desk asked the one who had just entered the tent. The lamp on the edge of the table bathed the room in a soft light, but the shadows it casted danced ominously over the man's face, as his stern gaze seemed to impale Jonah.

“R-reporting Sir, we attacked the princess’ entourage, but failed to capture the princess or kill the designated target despite our numerical advantage!” Jonah spoke, only an initial stammer betraying his nervousness.

“How many dead?” the man asked in an emotionless voice, while taking a sheet of paper and commencing to write something on it.

“We lost most of our men and pretty much all melee fighters, only a dozen of us remained when we began to retreat. On their side, we managed to kill seven or eight of the Royal Guard’s, with the one leading the escort amongst them.”

The man didn’t comment on that and continued to write his letter, only responding when he finally put the quill aside. “Our reports indicated there were only 20 guards accompanying the princess, so how could you have been so thoroughly beaten?”

“Shortly after we started our attack, the princess and the target joined the defendants, the former raising the guard’s morale. As for the latter, he seems to be a wizard of considerable power, capable of killing a man with a single, precise spell of relatively short casting time. With the Royal Guard’s protecting him, we couldn’t overrun him. Furthermore, he covered for the guards and the princess fighting in close quarters, effectively denying us taking advantage of our numerical superiority.”

The man tapped at the table with the tip of his quill, testament to either his annoyance or impatience for something. “This ‘Hero’ the princess has dug up from who knows where. I thought it a desperate attempt to rally more people behind her, using our ancient tales of past heroics and her claims of repeating them, with him as her mouthpiece.” The man then took another piece of paper and dipped his quill in the open inkwell, before commencing to write on it.

“Lord Rowe won’t be happy to hear we’ve failed to take him out - or capture the princess. With her making it to the summit, and this ‘Hero’ an active card she can play, she will only gain more momentum. We must try to turn this failure around yet, take this letter,” the man sealed the paper he had just written on in an envelope and handed it to Jonah, “send a pigeon to our agents in Narlême. If this man is a wizard - and a competent one at that - he must have studied under someone. Not one of our own schools, we would know of it then, so maybe Vodany or Bessi. The princess was there after the first summit, so she could have picked him up then. We find out who he is - we find out how we can use him.”

Jonah took the letter and gave the man a short but crisp salute, despite his obvious tiredness. The man dismissed him with a waving gesture and followed him exiting his tent with his eyes unfocused, lost in thought.

So quick to draw the gaze of others, Eu. On that note, now’s a good time to reveal myself. Drernoth, who had listened in on the conversation with interest, prepared to make a dramatic entrance. First impressions are key, and you can’t be tight with them, they always said.

The flickering of the lantern’s light increased in intensity, drawing the attention of the man sitting behind the desk. Though the brightness did neither increase nor decrease, the shadows casted seemed to grow longer and thinner and inched closer to him, almost like a clawed hand slowly closing around him. The man nervously leaned back in his seat, unsure of what to make of this phenomenon. He was startled even further, when suddenly a deep and reverberating voice spoke to him, seemingly coming from all around and inside him at the same time.

“Greetings good Sir. I wonder if you had the time to talk about our lord and saviour, the deific devil Bol’gathos?”