Livia had assured Roldy that the honey would not be nearly as powerful as when they all used it that first time, as long as the animal did not also consume alcohol beforehand.

Despite this assurance the inexperienced [Chaos Druid] had remained slightly worried he would be beset by a tweaking owl in the middle of the night, since it was still essentially giving drugs to an animal. But come morning the critter looked only somewhat worse for wear as it showed up in a lazy glide, at the agreed upon meeting spot on top of Blackenberg.

He held out his arm for it to land, but it chose a nearby branch to land on instead, then quickly turned to stare at him through slitted eyes. Its feathers were a very light brown with the occasional black spot on the belly, and slightly darker wings. Its thin eyebrows were about twice the length of its face, but during the few months since he first started observing the owl they had grown considerably.

"Good morning," The stare narrowed even more at his words. It almost looked like the eyes were closed, but no, he could still see a tiny glint. "Maybe not, either way. What we are looking for is any native of the forest under potentially fatal duress really, the more the merrier since the task is worded as ‘protect your flock’, and if it happens to be from some invader with an affinity foreign to the forest then even better," No reaction.

Harold put some serious thought into how to motivate the lazy bugger before he kept going. "If we manage to find something I'm sure will fully complete my task then I will be able to head back even sooner and you will be free of your duty and two edibles richer, sound good?"

At this the creature actually opened its eyes fully for once, and blinked twice. Then it flew off.

Harold knew the bird was smart, probably enough to understand all his words, but still he could not help but worry it was not planning to return.

A day and a half of not seeing the little guy only served to heighten that worry. Roldy was keeping busy, but with only 30 hours remaining, and now with so little happening, that meant not doing much more than watching the vast view and trying to hear any alarming distant noises.

By now it had been two days since he last found an animal he could help, and he was seriously considering relocating despite the superior vantage. At this rate I'm going to miss my chance to upgrade the Skill, and Livia is not even sure it is repeatable. Can you protect a flock if it is not under attack? Maybe I should move further south.

If you traveled south through Doc Forrest you would finally exit the woods and come upon a land of lakes and hills that were covered in skoog, which was what Humans on Elderwood called the giant mushroom forests that could be found in a couple of locations on the continent. There you would come upon giant insects and crawling invertebrates who thrived in the perpetually moist environment where any outside forces looking to make a home would start to moulder within days.

The young [Chaos Druid] decided he would go insane if he stayed put for much longer. He went down the side with the worst view and started circling wider and wider. After an hour of still not finding anything he picked up the pace and started sprinting, straining his ears.

Eventually a feeling came over him, like his perception was expanding. The constant motion of his body and the air pumping in and out of his chest became background noise and his whole brain became focused on the impressions that were coming his way.

He could see a large glade, as if in memory, and a flock of sika led by a clearly magical specimen, with the greatest crown Harold had ever seen on a stag. He recognised them, it was one of the groups he had helped out during the harshest weeks of winter.

The glade was surrounded by chuffing and barking black beasts with teeth like sharks, and wherever the stags back was turned they snatched or maimed another member of its herd.

When his focus returned Harold found he was about to rush headlong into a tree, he grabbed on and slowed his sprint to recover his breath and figure out the vision.

He recognised the creatures as barghatz from descriptions of [Hunters] during his childhood, and more lately Brunner. It was the second kind of predator that was regularly driven to these energy-poor regions, where Humans once thrived, by desperation.

But despite having the qualities of a memory there was no indication of the specific events having already happened, those sikas could still be alive. As his breath returned to normal he tried to focus back and see different details of what he was shown. It was a bigger glade than most, and the sunlight was coming from his left, and despite the barking there was the ambience of a nearby brook. I know that place.

Despite having so little to go on Harold decided to follow his instinct, he started sprinting again, in a new direction this time, back towards Salcret.

Last chance.