Post 1
 
>Be me
>Innawoods as fuck right now
>Bugged out when shit went down 
>Govt. went insane, martial law and shows of force
>World went even more insane, something about elves showed up on the news
>I’ve been in the woods for…. a while. 
>Realize I don’t have a way to keep track of time beyond the sun
>Its probably fall now, the leaves are crunchy, and turning to orange and red on the trees
>Floor of the forest is littered with leaves of all colors
>My camo and ghillie probably don’t work anymore
>Wearing a dark green CADPAT with an olive drab half ghillie
>Fuck
>My tan plate carrier is starting to fall apart
>Shitty milsurp, and the tan stands out horribly
>At least the guns are black
>Finish collecting my supper
>HunterGatherer.jpeg
>Mostly berries and a rabbit I caught with one of my snares
>Greasy spit-roasted rabbit is the best
>I really want duck though
>I REALLY want duck
>So preoccupied thinking about greasy duck I walk halfway back to my camp in a trance
>SnapBackToReality.avi
>I hit the ground before I even realize what I’m doing
>Commando crawl behind a fallen tree, then lower my face to the ground and try to peek around the stump
>What got me like this?
>Why are my nerves on edge?
>Scan the forest in front of me, looking for a threat
>Then I see it
>I’ve been living in these woods for a least a few months now
>Know every tree, every bush, every crunchy leaf for at least 100 meters around my camp
>And that bush wasn’t there yesterday, or even when I left my camp this morning
>Duck back behind the fallen tree, and slowly cock my rifle
>A shitty Mosin-Nagant I grabbed, one of my first rifles
>Its easy to maintain, doesn’t jam, and I have boxes upon boxes of ammo back at camp
>Key phrase being, back at camp
>I only have two clips with me
>10 rounds
>Who or whatever that bush is better not have friends or I’m screwed
>Royally screwed
>I lean out sideways, placing the bush in the center of my sights
>Its definitely not a regular bush
>I can see a distinct human form underneath it
>A ghillie obviously, but probably the best one I’ve ever seen
>And it’s in fall colours too
>Which larper paid at least a kidney for a ghillie of that quality in fall colours?
>I want that fucking ghillie for myself
>Place my aim right on the targets head
>I want that ghillie intact
>I tighten my finger on the trigger
>Suddenly
>The person in the ghillie looks at me
>Right at me
>With their blank orange eyes
>No pupil, no iris
>Their eyes are slanted like a chinks
>And gazing right at me
>I pull the trigger, but it’s too late
>My shot rings out across the clearing, arcing towards a target that isn’t there
>It hits where the target just was, and leaves explode into the air
>FuckThisShit.avi
>I roll to the side, then scramble to my feet
>I hear a twang and throw myself down just as quickly
>An arrow buries itself in the log in front of me
>An arrow, a fucking arrow
>From behind
>I grab the shaft and vault over the fallen tree, feeling the arrowhead break as I do
>Keeping low I run through the trees, dodging from trunk to trunk
>I hear another twang and throw myself to the side, another arrow sails past
>Almost out of breath I divert to the side, diving into the roots of some massive tree
>I wait, listening
>Nothing, not a sound save for the wind blowing dried leaves
>I wait for a few more minutes, still silent
>Then slowly the forest comes back to life
>I gradually make my way out of my makeshift foxhole and head back to camp
>Not straight for camp, however
>I make like a moose, heading first away from camp, then doubling back, checking my own tracks for signs of someone tracking me
>After a bit I decide I’m safe, and head back, arriving at camp not long later
 
>Ah, camp. Home sweet home.
>A thick barrier of leaves and sticks surrounds the clearing into my camp 
>Only one entrance in, a makeshift archway of wood
>I enter in, looking carefully for signs of intruders
>The camp on the inside is a mess
>just how I left it
>Most of the camp is underground, with three distinct trench systems zigzagging back and forth across the clearing
>I settle down into the third one, the one furthest away from the archway, lowing myself in
>A fresh bed of leaves coats the damp bottom
>I head towards a pit on the far side, where a makeshift kitchen awaits me
>Tarps cover everything, which I pull back and roll up
>A fire pit sits in the middle, and a mud oven off to the side
>I quickly skin the rabbit, then start a fire and place it in the oven
>The oven has a small chimney which leads into a hollow room I carved out of the ground behind it
>The smoke filters through the chimney, and into the room I dug out, meaning it won’t broadcast my position like a campfire would
>The room also curves around my sleeping area, and makes the walls nice and warm
>VeryComf.png
>Leave the cooking pit and back into the trench area, heading towards a tunnel dug out under the trench
>I duck into the tunnel, underneath the lip of the trench, coming into a small dirt cave, with wooden beams holding back the roof and walls
>A small bed made of sticks and pine needles sits right where I left it
>I ignore the bed for now, I need to prepare
>I have a sick feeling in my gut that whatever I saw in the forest will be coming back tonight
>I open up my arsenal
>A kit standard Colt M4, with a mag and a half of .223
>A huge pile of 7.62x54 Russian milsurp boxes for the nugget, at least 800 rounds
>A Remington model 700, with 2 five round magazines of .308 winny, and a spare box with another 20 rounds
>And Finally
>A great big milsurp RPK, with a massive 75 round drum and a literal bucketful of spares
>No second drum though, will need to use carefully
>I prep the weapons, checking quickly for signs of wear and cycling the bolt
>Don’t have enough time for a full strip on each of them, and offer a quick prayer to the /k/ube that they wont jam when I need them most
>Leaving the entranceway, I place down the guns I prepared in a few specially prepared positions, keeping the M4 on me
>My rabbit smells done
>I head over and remove it, then offer thanks to Kek and the /k/ube while I wait for it to cool
>Finally, I dig into the juicy, greasy rabbit
>Delicious.avi
>Now satisfied, I place the berries I had collected earlier in a smokebox to dry, and go prepare myself for what was to come
>The sun sets as a curl an earth drab tarp around myself and wait, slowly drifting off into a light sleep
 
>Wake up later that night
>A set of bells jingle softly beside me
>Someone or something just tripped the perimeter alarm
>Full moon tonight, I can see almost everything
>The bells jingle again, this time a different set
>There is more than one, the camp must be surrounded
>I shrug off my tarp, then slowly crawl up to the second trench emplacement, but don’t enter it
>I watch the entrance carefully, lying motionless
>The forest is filled with traps, maybe that will deal with them
>I have two pitfalls, filled with makeshift punji spikes
>Razor blades hanging from tree branches on fishing wire, scattered around at neck and eye level
>A tripwire set to a net full of rocks that hang above it
>Several makeshift minefields, made from shotgun shells inside a pipe buried in the ground
>A set of nail bombs I have rigged to a control back with me
>And several snare traps I tried to replicate from memory, the ones that close in on your ankle and yank you upside down
>They didn’t work when I had tested them, but maybe they’ll at least annoy my assailant
>I hear the bells ring, this time a different set
>The nail bomb proximity set
>I hastily grab the activation string, yanking it good and hard
>Megumin would be proud
>A huge explosion fills the night, almost deafening even from the 40+ meters away
>I’m not listening to it though, I’m listening for the next set of bells
>And like a pin drop amidst a thunderstorm, I hear them
>I yank the second trigger string, and prepare myself for the resulting boom
>I wait
>And wait
>And the boom doesn’t come
>The trigger must be faulty, but hopefully the first bomb got some work done
>I prepare myself, watching the entryway
>A head peaks out, taking in the camp
>I wait, remaining still and hoping I won’t be detected
>The head peeks out further, revealing a slender body covered with leaves just like the ghillie suit I had seen earlier
>Now
>I pull the trigger, feeling the recoil hit my shoulder as the automatic rifle spat out its full magazine towards the target
>Well, mostly towards the target. I’ll admit I’m not the greatest shot with full auto
>Regardless, the near wall of lead flies towards the target
>The target that wasn’t there
>But I was expecting that
>I hot swap my magazine, leading the half empty one and rolling over onto my back
>I turn around at the figure, now having materialized behind me
>And pull the trigger
>V̶̢͚͙̞̭̒͊e̴̡͋̀͐͛̓͠r̸̮̈́͑̅̇̃ͅn̶̫͎̿͂͠d̶͇̼͛a̵̬̻̩͒̉͑̈́̚͜͝ͅð̴͈̰̾͜ṳ̵̫̝͌M̷̡͚̤̽̉̋̃͠i̴̢̛̬̐ĝ̶̮͓̬͔͖̒̚͜ó̵͙̹̝̒̀͜R̴̹̩̹͑e̶͙͉̠͚̔̊͒̏̚i̶̝͓͓͕͔̰̽k̸̢̨̯̩͙͂̔̆͘͠i̸͔̻̓s̸̤̙̣͊̈́̈́t̷̬͒̕j̷̛͈̭͎̬͒̈́̑̑̓a̵̲͈͉̻̺͕̓͆́ŗ̷͔̀̂̎͒̔͝n̷̝̫̥̔́́a̷̠̙͆͂͑̿̚̕
>It says something even as my shots zip towards it, and suddenly the air in front of it is filled with flashes of light
>The glowing hot rounds lay still in front of the creature, suspended in the air by some unnatural force
>My eyes open wide in disbelief, and I ditch the rifle, diving for the second trench where the model 700 lays against the wall, already loaded
>It can stop .223, but can .308 win mag bust through? 
>I don’t know, but I need to try
>I’m barely even into the second trench when my world explodes
>Dirt pours down from the sky in dump truck quantities, and my head swims as I’m thrown to the side of the trench
>I had rigged the first trench to blow, and it looks like something had triggered it
>Megumin would be VERY proud
>Meaning I was dealing with several bogies
>Bogies which were possibly immune to small arm fire
>I grab the model 700, then streak through the second trench, barely looking where I was going
>The trench had mostly collapsed from the shockwave, dirt ramps pouring in from the walls
>Krieg would be disappointed.
>I scamper up one of the newly made ramps, looking for targets in the dusty air
>None….unless?
>I aim back towards the first trench, where a survivor seems to be clawing their way out of the dirt
>I had packed enough explosives into the bed of that trench to level a government building of considerable size 
>How had they survived?
>What exactly was I up against?
>I sight the survivor, aim, and pull the trigger
>The nice hefty kickback of a .308 rifle pounds against my shoulder, and the glowing hot round flies towards its target
>Right through its target, which explodes in a shower of leaves
>There is no body, no nothing but a small pile of leaves drifting down from the sky
>What the fuck are these things
>I hear a twang, but react too slow
>An arrow catches me in my left shoulder, and would have caught me center mass if I hadn’t moved
>I scream in pain, dropping my rifle as my other hand flied to my shoulder
>Grimacing, I push down on the wound, the arrow still sticking out of it
>I hobble for the third trench, sliding down of the dirt ramps and getting behind the RPK
>Its set of on its front bipod, gleaming in the moonlight
>The arrow must be poisoned, or something
>I feel incredibly groggy
>I work the bolt, the lift the RPK against my right should, and look for a target
>I’m taking as many down with me as I can
>I see movement, and don’t even think before I shoot, a hot line of tracers spitting off into the dusty night air
>I hold down the trigger until the barrel glows an angry orange, and no sound pervades the night except the empty click of the trigger
>By the /k/ube, I’m so tired
>So very tired
>S̶̈͜ò̴̰̲̮f̸̢̦̓͐̕ð̶̗́̔ǘ̵͉̩̮̊͘N̵̡̛̻ú̸̞̖̋̄͗͜n̵̝͗͠a̷̲͎͍̒̓
>I hear a sound like whooshing leaves behind me, and I black out, letting go of the RPK and hitting the damp ground beneath me with a thud
 
Post 2
 
>Be me
>Innawoods as fuck
>Or at least I was
>Where am I?
>What happened?
>All I see is black
>I try to move my arms
>I can’t
>I try to move my head
>All I see is black
>After a few seconds of staring into nothingness I realize my eyes are closed
>My eyelids open slowly, they feel heavy
>I’m in a tree
>Well, it certainly looks like a tree, root systems warp all around me, forming a flowing, natural structure 
>It looks remarkably like the interior of a house, complete with windows and furniture
>All seeming to be grow as a part of one big tree
>I look down at the rest of my body, and understand why I can’t move
>I’m lying on a bed of soft leaves and moss
>Thick tree roots extend out of the bedding, curling around my wrists and ankles
>I try to tug at them again, but to little avail
>The tree branches are springy enough that I can’t crack them with repeated movement, but firm enough that I can’t break out on my own
>Giving up, I look around the room
>A ¼ window near the ceiling seems even to the ground outside, meaning I’m in a half basement
>Wood bars that seem as natural and organic as the rest of the room cover the window, eliminating its possibility as an escape route
>I turn my gaze to the rest of the room
>The room is roughly 15 feet long, and about eight feet wide
>Roots come down from the ceiling about half way across the room, like prison bars, confining me to about an 8x8 space
>My cell, or at least the room I presume to be my cell, is sparsely furnished, with my bed in the center, and a small desk growing out of the wall to my right
>A small flower pot with some loose soil sits to my left
>A craning my neck I can barely perceive some of the environment outside of my cell
>On the other side of the bars is a doorway, an archway of roots, that leads up a set of curved stairs
>An orange bush-creature sits at a small desk, fiddling with something and humming
>Their voice is light and airy, and I feel myself get light headed as the melody sweeps me along
>Almost in a trance, I feel like my consciousness is drifting out of my body
>The smooth tune sweeps me along like a current, and I feel at ease
>I feel like if I listen to the humming any longer, my mind will never return to my body
>But I felt strangely okay with that
>I flow along with the gentle hymnal, losing myself to the wind of music, but it’s different now
>A chaotic underside seems to corrupt it, making me feel less like a leaf on the wind and more like a worm on a fishing hook
>Like a lamb in a slaughterhouse
>Fear grips my very being, and my consciousness is thrust back into my body 
>I groan in pain, a splitting headache thundering into my head
>The humming stops, and the orange creature stands up from their desk, placing down whatever they had been working on
>They step towards my cells bars, which twist and writhe apart for them, opening to allow them access inside
>As they come stand at my bedside I get my first up close look at the orange bush creatures
>Their skin is a light orange, like a chipotle sauce, and is smooth and hairless
>Sinewy muscles push against their skin, lithe and compact, like a predatory feline
>The one before me seems fairly feminine, with narrow shoulders and an hourglass figure which leads to a set of round hips
>What I had previously mistaken for ghillie becomes more apparent now, as a literal mantle of leaves adorns its slightly raised chest, then stops at the creatures sternum, before a skirt of leaves begins again below its navel
>Its hair is smooth and straight, tied back in a straight ponytail threaded with a large orange maple leaf
>The tied back hair reveals two long pointed ears
>Tribal markings adorn the face, done in a variety of fall colors as if to enhance the creatures natural camouflage abilities
>Its eyes are orange, like the one I saw before
>Completely devoid of iris or pupil, the eyes glare at me with a hatred and malevolence that made me want to run, run far away
>But I couldn’t, I was still restrained to the bed
>H̶v̵e̵r̶ ̵e̴r̷t̷u̵?̶ ̷O̶g̷ ̶a̵f̴ ̴h̴v̵e̵r̸j̵u̵ ̶b̸ý̵r̴ð̵ ̴þ̸ú̴ ̵í̴ ̴s̴k̶ó̵g̸i̵n̷u̵m̴ ̸o̷k̴k̶a̶r̵!̴ 
>The creature shouted at me, but I couldn’t understand what it was saying
>I tried to speak, to say that I didn’t understand it, but the only thing that left my mouth was a dry groan
>How long had it been since I last spoke? Months? I didn’t really speak to anyone pre running into the woods for a few months either, so my only guess can be at least 10 months
>I well some saliva in my mouth, the swallow to wet my throat
>I then clear my throat and try again
> “a-a-arigato gog-gozaimasu”
>…
>I’m a fucking idiot.
>Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, and I cringe at myself for a moment before trying again
>”Uh-I-uh don’t understand you”
>The words feel weird to speak, and alien to my tongue
>How much of a weeb was I before everything went down?
>The orange creature narrows its eyes at me, then speaks again
> Ḻ̷̢͓͊̉á̵͇͔̯̋͑̿t̷̛̜̝̲̿t̷̛̪̏u̵̟̎̀M̶̲̲̿̒͠i̶̡̯̎̇g̴͖̣̻̑̌́Ḥ̵̀́e̶̛̮̱̽͋y̷̮͑r̵͙͉͚͌̋̈a̵̡̒̚̕
>A sound like a dozen birdcalls washes over me, hitting me like a wet blanket
>The creature speaks once more, and this time I understand them
>“Who are you? And why do you dwell in our forest!”
>Their feminine voice is strangely melodic, like they could break into a song at any moment
>Their voice lingers in the air for a moment after they speak, like a sharp piano note
> “Uh, I’m anon, and I lived there” I answer dumbly, my tongue still feeling like a stack of bricks
> “What are you?” it demands, passing its hands over my ghillie “You are human, but you wear leaves as Eladrin.”
>”Uh? Oh, this?” I wave my bound hands upwards to indicate my ghillie “It’s called ghillie, it helps me blend in”
>The creature’s -the Eladrin’s? -eyes narrow at me, and I get the feeling I said something I shouldn’t have
> “You wear fake leaves to hide yourself amongst this forest? Truly nothing is sacred to your kind”
> “Well no, its not like tha-“
>She shushes me with a gesture
>”Your trial will be tomorrow, until then you will sleep”
>Her final words leave a drone in the air, and my eyelids suddenly feel very heavy once more
>I try to offer a feeble resistance, but my eyes soon close and sleep overtakes me
 
Post 3
 
>Be me
>Innawoods as fuck
>Also groggy as fuck, my eyelids feel heavy again as I force them open
>Three of the bush people-I guess they call themselves Eladrin-stand before me
>The same female as yesterday, now flanked by two bare chested men
>Leaves form a fall coloured mantle on their shoulders, and they wear loincloths of a similar material
>Like the female, the have unique tribal patterns painted upon their chest, face, and arms
>They each hold a spear, the shafts heavily personalized
>Leaves and flowers adorn them, and ivy grips curl around the hard wood
>The tips are curved, with a wide base that curls into a thin point, like a flame
>I can’t quite identify what the tips are made of, the razor edge gleams like a metal, but it seems porous like a rock
>They seem to be hued a dark blue, and glimmer with speckles of dotted silver
>The woman speaks a word I can’t quite make out, and the roots constricting my ankles and wrists curl, retracting back below the bed of leaves
>I’m hassled to my feet by one of the guards, and led towards the staircase outside of my cell
>The female takes the lead, her hips swaying as she ascends the staircase
>My hands are bound in what feels like rough bark, rubbing tight against my wrists 
>The two men take up position behind me, forcing me to follow the woman
>Leaving the stairwell, I can’t help but turn my head to take in the majesty before me
>A busy plaza greets my eyes, filled with dozens of other bush people
>The walls and ceiling seem to be made entirely from wood, but not like a human construct
>The architecture seems natural and flowing, as if we were inside a tree that had grown for the express purpose of becoming this vast building
>Stairs to other levels were organic and smooth, yet ascended at a uniform pace
>Great arches formed by the root tendrils of some massive tree form archways to more hallways than I could conceivably explore 
>Sunlight trickled from cracks in the roof-no, in the tree, I came to realize
>This was all inside a massive tree
>Huge banners and tapestries woven from vines of dozens of colours hang from upper levels and catwalks
>The banners depicted heraldry I couldn’t recognize, and the tapestries depicted warriors, hunters, and great beasts slain
>”Eyes forward” one of the guards says, and the point of his spear digs painfully into my back
>I immediately comply, turning my head forward but still allowing my eyes to wander and gaze at the marvels before me
>I’m lead through the organic architecture for a few minutes, following twists and turns that confused me and shattered any sense of direction I already had
>Eladrin in the halls make way for us, glaring at me usually, occasionally spitting or saying something I cant quite hear
>At one point, an onlooker came forward and began shouting, his body language aggressive and feral
>One of my guards advanced on him, spear crossed lay wise his body and pushed the man back into the crowd of onlookers
>Eventually we reached our destination, two great bark covered doors at the end of the hallway
>They opened with a groan, like the tensed mast of a ship of old, revealing a sprawling court within
>A parade of guards stood at attention, wearing armour which seemed to be made of wood, carved with language and symbols
>Gallery seating hung from the walls, suspended above vast box seating speckled with onlookers
>Several, if not most, were Eladrin, but I viewed several other things among the seats before I was whisked forward 
>The front of the room had a large grand judges stand, almost a mockery of ones I had seen before
>It stood at least 30 feet tall, causing me to crane my head upwards to see the wizened figure behind it
>An Eladrin with skin like petrified wood gazed back at me spitefully, and the guards directed me to a desk on my left, seating me there
>The court was drawn to order, and discussion began, speaking in language I could not understand
>The words sound like birdsong, and when a man near me began to chitter angrily I had to suppress a laugh
>Clearly I suppressed it terribly, because one of the guards turns to me and shouts something
>” Ḻ̷̢͓͊̉á̵͇͔̯̋͑̿t̷̛̜̝̲̿t̷̛̪̏u̵̟̎̀M̶̲̲̿̒͠i̶̡̯̎̇g̴͖̣̻̑̌́Ḥ̵̀́e̶̛̮̱̽͋y̷̮͑r̵͙͉͚͌̋̈a̵̡̒̚̕”
>Their language is immediately understood to me, and I come to realize the gravity of the situation I’m in
>”The human laugh at us, makes a mockery of our ways, and disrespects our very way of life”
>”He deserves nothing but a summary execution and shallow grave”
>”No!” Intones the woman beside me “He killed my brother; he killed your son! Father see him strung from the branches of the tallest trees to weather the elements”
>“You guys attacked me!” I shout in outrage, then pause to continue “In fac-“
>I am immediately silenced when one of the guards wallops me with the butt of his spear
>The hit turns my vision hazy, and I double over in pain
>Words wash over me once more, an angry babble until I finally recover my senses, just in time for the gavel to bang and the court to be silenced
>”I have decided a ruling” the wizened figure wheezes
>”He shall be executed by fire, his remains incinerated and his spirit left to wander. By my powers I judge him guil-“
>An explosion suddenly rocks the room, loose wood and leaves falling from the ceiling 
>The sound of gunfire perks my ears, following by screams and battle cries outside
>A second explosion occurs, much closer this time
>Guards move quickly, evacuating the judge and some official looking Eladrin off their stands, through a smaller door in the back
>”Everyone remain calm!” a guard shouts
>No sooner does he say that before the chamber doors blow open
>The shockwave sends me to the ground, and staccato burst of gunfire begin in earnest
>Underneath all the gunfire I hear a mechanical whirring, and my instincts tell me to stay down
>The heavy BRRRRRRRRRRT of an electric minigun fills the room, the large rounds tearing up the ground around me and presumably the rest of the room
>After a few moments it stops, and I tentatively peek my head up to observe the situation
>A large gray SUV sits in the doorway, a smoking minigun on top
>Human forms in black tactical gear, wielding assault rifles and submachine guns cluster around it
>Several bodies cover the floor, but many more Eladrin still fought on
>Arrows began to bristle the metal hide of the SUV, and a figure in black tactical gear takes one to the neck
>Several more Eladrin charge forward, large wooden shields held in an act of defence
>A tree, at least 40 feet tall charges towards the vehicle, its form riddled with bullet holes
>The minigun opens up again, bullets whizzing through the air and impacting the Treant, but it doesn’t seem to care
>It barrels into the SUV, knocking it over onto its side and pushing it out of the room
>Another black clad figure falls to an arrow before a volley of return fire hits the charging Eladrin
>The bullets impossibly seem to stop before they reach them, or impact harmlessly on the wooden shields
>A grenade lands at the feet of an armoured Eladrin, and explodes in a massive ball of flame and shrapnel
>The armoured Eladrin strides forward, out of the explosion, unharmed
>He lifts his spear to his side and bellows a war cry, charging forward with his brethren
>Another explosion echoes behind me, and more black clad people enter into my room
>My two guards from before rush to attack them, but following the sound of a shotgun blast he is thrown onto his back, a large hole gaping in his chest
>The other guard succeeds in his frenzied charge, knocking the gun out of one operators hands an impaling him with his spear
>Another black clad operator steps past him while several more move to engage, and sights the prone form of the female on the ground
>She had been knocked down by the explosion, and a fear fills her eyes as he levels the barrel of an MP5 at her face
>Acting on instinct, I clamber to my feet
>No easy task since my hands were still bound
>”Hey! You!” Is all the warning the man gets before I slam into him, twisting my body to hit his chin with my shoulder
>His body goes limp, and he drops his gun and goes sprawling on the floor
>The operator with the shotgun sees this, and I dive for cover as he fires at me
>The female Eladrin crawls after me, almost in a daze
>”Cut me loose!” I shout at her
>She stares at me dumbly
>”My bindings! Cut them!” 
>She seems to understand, and reaches for my wrists
>The binding comes loose and my wrists separate
>I rub them for a second, restoring the circulation before I reach for the operators fallen MP5
>It has a 2x holo sight on top, and a red laser pointer on the side
>It felt full, so I swapped it to semi and peeked over the pew I was using as cover
>The second guard had fallen, and three operators including the one with a shotgun remained
>I sight him first and pull the trigger
>Fire blossoms from my barrel, and explodes onto his chest, his plate carrier absorbing the 9mm ammunition
>I fire again, hitting him under his shoulder plate, then a third time in the neck while he staggers
>The others dive for cover, but I tag one in the calf with a trio of shots as they do
>6 shots fired
>24 remain
>I waste another half a dozen trying to keep them pinned as I strafe towards the unconscious form of this weapons owner
>Sure enough, at the front of his plate carrier he has two more magazines
>And a grenade
>I snap a shot through the right lens of an operators goggles when he attempts to peek at me over his own cover, and he goes down, but gunfire from another forces me to retreat without having grabbed the ammo
>I had…fuck, how many shots had I fired?
>I’d lost count, a rookie mistake
>I fire again, my shot going wide, and am met with a larger volley of return fire, from a different angle this time
>They’re trying to flank me
>I change positions, dodging a burst of shots as I scramble for refuge behind the desk at which I had been tried
>The I now have a position on the one I had tagged before, and level a burst of shots at him
>My aim is off though, and the shots sprinkle around him
>He tries to move positions himself, but his leg collapses beneath him and a pair of my shots impact into the side of his torso
>He screams and goes prone, twitching slightly
>I swivel, turning my gun barrel with me towards where my flanker had just been
>He leaps at me, a combat knife in his hand, and I pull the trigger
>An empty click is all the weapon utters
>My eyes widen in fear, and I throw up my hands to intercept, grabbing his wrists as he slams into me
>The impact knocks me on my back, but I keep a hold of his wrists
>He’s mounted me, his full bodyweight pushing down on the hilt of the blade as I struggle desperately to keep it up
>My arms grow shaky, and I can see the tip of the blade shivering, slowly growing closer and closer to my chest
>A look of vengeance and anger fills his eyes, and the gap between my chest and the tip growing shorter and shorter
>The feeling of fire, like pins and needles burn through my arms, and sweat breaks upon my brow
>I can feel the muscles in my face straining, and the muscles in my arms scream in agony, but I cant stop him
>The thought of my inevitable, painful end surges me with a last bought of strength I didn’t know I had, and I push back at him
>but it isn’t enough, and I can tell by the look in his eyes he knows that too
>My end nears, and I close my eyes, willing it to be quick
>my arms give out, and a sudden BANG fills my ears
>Something wet splatters my face
>I open my eyes, as the man tumbles off my body
>A bloody mess remains where his head had been, skull and brain fragments littered around me
>I look over to me side, and see the female for before, holding a shotgun, the barrel smoking
>”Th-th-thank you” I sputter at her, and attempt to climb to my feet
>The feeling of adrenaline withdrawal leaves me feeling shaky, and I nearly collapse
>She turns and vomits behind a pew, and I cant blame her
>I fully regain my footing and observe the courtroom
>Its in shambles, bullet holes pilfer most of the surfaces and the floor is covered in corpses and blood
>The Eladrin seem to have been victorious, a few shell shocked survivors sort through the wreckage and check for their kin
>I hear shouting from the door, and look around for a weapon, a loaded one
>Before I can find one I take a hit to the back of the head, which sends my vision spinning and my body sprawling to the ground
>I turn over, seeing an Eladrin in full wooden armour, covered in pockmarked bullet impacts
>He lifts the butt of his spear again
>”Wait!” I hear the female call, but its too late
>He jabs it down, and all I see is black
 
Post 4
 
>I awaken on a bed of leaves
>My head hurts
>Really Bad
>I crack open my eyes, observing the area around me
>I’m back in my cell, but this time not restrained
>The bed is rather comf too
>Looks like an extra layer of leaves and moss have been added since last time
>A bandage of cloth, seemingly torn from my shirt wraps around my head
>Its covered in blood
>My blood?
>I gingerly touch the part of my head where the bandage had covered
>Ouch
>Definitely my blood
>I go back to observing my cell, to see what else has changed
>My room smells nice now, I come to notice, the smell of dirt and earth replaced by the sweet smell of pine and berries
>I wait for some time, sitting on the edge of the leafy mattress, until eventually I hear noises from the stairwell
>The female from before comes down, though she looks a little different now
>Wooden greaves adorn her delicate legs, and cuisses cup her gentle thighs
>Vambraces of the same material outfit her arms, extending to a rerebrace further up
>A small bevor rests on her sternum, extending up to her neck to rest, accentuating her aggressive jawline
>Runes glow faintly along her armour, carved in elegant strokes
>”Up” she demands of me, the bars to my cell part as she approaches them
>She carries a long sword, like a Kilij or a Yatang on her hip, and a small chest in her hands
>I quickly jump to my feet, waiting at the foot of my bed for further instruction
>She kneels down, setting the chats to the ground at my feet, then stands up and looks me in the eyes
>Her own eyes meet mine, or at least I think they do
>No pupil, no iris, just a pale orange
>”Strip” she says, and I’m taken aback for a moment
>”Uh, what?” I mutter dumbly
>I had heard the word but couldn’t make sense of what she meant
>“What are you waiting for? Strip, now.” Her eyebrows furrow in annoyance
>“You, uh, want me to get naked?” I say, confused
>Faster than I can follow, her an object appears in her hand and flies up to my neck, where I feel a blade pressed against my throat
>”Don’t make me say it again” she says, and I have to fight back the urge to gulp
>I undo my pants, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, then pull my shirt over my head, dropping its torn remains beside me
>I reach down to my white boxers, and am greeted with a mirthless laugh as I do
>”You can keep those on, pervert” she says, a cruel smirk altering her face
>She goes down to her knees once more, opening the chest
>Several containers, like coconuts are extracted and placed around it, and what looks like a brush is withdrawn
>Her blade drags across the top of the coconuts, opening a hole, before she sheathes it behind her waist
>The brush is dipped in, and she stands up, placing her hand on my shoulder
>”V̶̩̆̈́͝ẻ̵̜̣̠̀̑̿͜ṛ̷̨̥̅̈̋̕͜͝n̴͇̗̝͖̓͜d̷̜̱͂͘a̸͎̞̿ð̷̧̟͚̜̫̼͐̃̄̃͛ư̶͍̒̒̎̍̚G̷̣̈́̂͐̋ę̶̹̞̮̗̼̽̉́̉͘̕͝ͅg̴̮̑̂͒ṇ̵̥̘̣̖͒̀͠ö̶̧̠̜̟͛͌̈́̃̓̌̚l̴̲̞͍͍͓̲̘̀l̷̥̯͕̣̬̂̒̅u̸̡͙̬͔̒̽̎̋̇̕m̶͓̈͛̒͝S̵͓̒͆̈̇̚͜͝͠k̷̡̛̹̯͉͒̆̓͒̿̂a̵̯̻͇̳͇̰͕̿́̊̿̉͌͛ð̵̣͒à̷̻̟̱̍͛͂̾̄͘” She says, pressing the brush against my chest
>The hairs of the brush tickle, and the ink they bear feels staticky, numbing my chest where she smears it in intricate patterns
>”V̴̛͕̞͗̒̔̋̍̍ė̵̗̣͈͈͇̎̑̓͑i̵̤͋͆̊̈́̈́̄͘t̷̟̓̈́͂͑̾͌͠ͅa̷͖̤͕̙͂̐̿H̷͖̺̿̋͘ͅr̴͉̫͎̃̂͆͗̕a̴͚̰͈̹̳͚̍̎̌̑̚ð̷̟̙̫̫̪̋̒̌̚ä̶̟͓͔̫́̀̇͛̓̀”
>”V̷͙͉̘̏̑͑́̎͠e̸͇͔̤͍̫̟̊̈̔͜ĩ̷͚̫͔́̂̉̆͒͑t̴̨̜͉͉̮̼͛̀̌͒̓̍̕a̶̳̝̙͖̍͂͋́͑̓S̴͈̗͌̏̉͗̑͒ͅt̵̯̺̟̳̯̄̎̉͋̍ͅy̷̧̧̙̞̿r̵̨̰̞̼̯̙̀͜k̸̮͙̦͉̃̀͛”
>”V̵̡̨̱̗͓̮͐ͅe̷̺͕͔̬̓͐̍̽̊͆́ͅí̴̯̖̳̦͉t̴̮͉͗́̇͛́̚a̴̞̬̒͌̇̉̽V̸̛̼͖͖͈͛́͝ͅi̸̢̡̩̯̫̭̅̎̆̈́̑̕͜l̶̡̠̹̻̀͑̏j̵̨̣͓̪͉̼͈͝ả̴̯͔͚̲̲̝̩͌͂s̶͚̰̲̫͇̲̩͒̅͗̍̇͝t̵͚̣̝̞̑̔ÿ̸̼͚̹̜͕̫̪r̶̖͆̀̂͂̉̾̔k̶͔͓͖͊͛̊̔̍͜”
>She seems to chant as she carves the patterns
>The numbing liquid is applied everywhere, patterns marking my chest, my back, my neck, both of my arms, and my legs
>Intricate swirling patterns, like the vines of a tree and a ray of sunlight
>Finally, she pulls back the brush, then carves a symbol on my forehead, which trails down the left side of my face to my jawline
>”V̴͓̐ȅ̴̢̯͙͔̓͑̉͛̽̾ṛ̶̡̱̮̙͇̍̓͋͘t̴̫͈̤̤͛̉̌͆̌͝ͅu̶̟̫̬̩͉͒͑̈́̿͝þ̴̧͍͔͓̟͑j̴̣͎̦̮̜̪͑ǫ̷͔͈̖͔͓̞́̒͐̒n̵̛̗͇̹̄͆̇̍̓́ņ̸̨̳̠̱͊͜M̴̻̟̗̀̽̀̚ó̷̢̢̮̹̠͊̿̅̾͐ð̸̻͛̀͑̋̋͝ů̶̡͎̣̙̠͕͋͊ṛ̸̝̯̻̊̓̚ĩ̴̹̘̰͈̣̥̽̃̾͜͝n̶͔͎̄̂̃̆̚͝n̶͚̟̰̟̆ą̴͈̖̗͈̼͊̔̊́̚r̸̼̗̙̗͕͗̐͘O̶̡̬͕͎͔͑ͅg̶̘̘̔̽̂̈́̕͝ͅS̸̡̡̽k̶̰̫͖̹̯͖̰͌̾͐̆ó̶͈̗̋ǧ̴̭͖̓̃̐̐͝͠u̸̮̽r̵̛̝̗͊͂͝i̷̡̞͚̍̄́͝n̸̦͙̰̣͎̎̌͋̐n̴̫̦͇͖̹̆̽̕” she says, and my consciousness explodes
>Swirling patterns of colour and light spindle around me, the threads of time curl together like the edge of a knife
>I can hear screaming. Is it my screaming?
>The time thread knife slashes through my being, and I feel my legs give out beneath me >Something catches me under my arms, holding me tight as I scream
>Is it me screaming?
>Who is me?
>Suddenly my vision is overwhelmed, and I’m sent soaring over plains, speckles beneath me continuing into the horizon
>The speckles are tree stumps
>The plains are this forest
>This forest will be doomed, it will be cut down, logged, destroyed, all of it
>I need to stop it, I have to stop it
>A factory looms in the distance, its walls cold bare industrial concrete
>Great smokestacks loom over it, belching out pollutants while a grated drainpipe spews chemicals onto the surrounding the factory
>Wherever the chemicals touch they burn the land like acid, leaving dead lifeless dirt in their wake
>I need to stop this, I have to stop this
>All at once my vision ends, and I’m catapulted into my own body
>What was in that paint? How hard had I just tripped?
>I feel something pressed against my chest, and look down
>The small form of the Eladrin woman holds me tight, keeping me upright when my legs had given out
>I find my footing, then pat her back lightly “Uh, thank you” I mutter, my tongue feeling weird
>A copper taste fills my mouth
>I had bit my tongue
>She looks up at me, then releases me, stepping back
>She stares at me for a few moments, an award void filling the room
>”So uh” I say, looking to break the silence “Weren’t you guys going to kill me?”
>Her brow furrows in annoyance, something she seems to do a lot
>”You saved my life human, so I plead your case on your behalf”
>She says it with a tone of regret, as if she wished she hadn’t
>”Your punishment was decided, you would serve us for some time, as both a scion and an advisor. And I was named to be your handler”
>”So what were the marks you applied, the tat-“ I look down at my chest and can barely see where she applied them, they seem to have faded like a light tan line
>”They will better you, and keep you alive. For now.” She says, seeming annoyed that I asked
>”Now come, you must be equipped before anything can begin”
>”Can I put my clothes on first?” I ask, embarrassed by my lack of clothing, save for my boxers
>”No.” she simply states, then heads up the stairwell, and I rush to follow
 
Post 5 
 
>The scene at the top of the stairway is complete chaos
>The smell of burn wood is incredibly prominent, hanging in the air, and Eladrin rush around in full their full wooden armour
>I quickly spot the female Eladrin, heading for another staircase which led up to a balcony, then chase after her
>”So hey” I start, jogging to keep up “Where exactly are we going?” 
>”You’ll see” she says, avoiding the question
>”Am I on like, a need to know basis?” I ask incredulously
>She stops in the middle of the crowded staircase, the flow of traffic diverting around us
>Turning around, she looks at me, placing her hands on her hips and letting out an exasperated sigh
>”Listen” she begins, meeting my eyes “Everything will make sense soon, just hold on for now”
>”Can I at least get some new clothes?” I ask, still feeling self-conscious about being surrounded by Eladrin while in my white briefs
>”After.” She states solidly, then turns and continues up the stairs
>I follow after her, ascending through the levels of the tree until we reach what I can only assume to be the branch section, as the pathways begin to gnarl and twist in random directions
>We walk past several doorways, some closed off by twisting vines and leaves, others opening into yet more branches
>Eventually she stops in front of a closed doorway
>She raises her hand to the door, and it spirals open
>Entering into the room, I can see five new people gathered around a central table
>My attention is drawn to a large Treant covered in pockmarked bullet holes crouches over the side of the table, his presence dwarfing all others
>The old man from the courtroom, and a guard in full wooden plate stand at the end of the table
>A shapely green woman with a mane of red hair stands across the table from the Treant, her legs disappearing into a mass of leaves and vines
>She gazes at me with apparent interest, her gaze uncomfortably raking my mostly naked body
>One more Eladrin, wearing little armour  with a large bow slung across his back stands beside her, glaring at me with clear disgust
>”I have brought the human” My handler says, the door closing behind us once we enter
>”You have been given an opportunity human” a wizened voice from the end of the table speaks up
>”You will be able to redeem yourself, or die trying” The Elder continues
>”You will be equipped, then sent out. You will aid us, and when the time comes we will free you”
>I gulp heavily, then clear my throat “What do you mean free me, how do you know I won’t just run?”
>The Elder shares a glance with my handler, then speaks 
>”Do not think yourself exempt from your crimes, human. Instead, think of this more as a parole”
>”My crimes?” I yell, outraged “You attacked me!”
>”Enough!” the elder demands, raising his hand along with his voice “You will cooperate with us, or you will die”
>The tension in the room visibly shifts, I can see my handler place her hand on the hilt of her knife out of the corner of my eye
>ohfuck.png
>”Alright” I say, attempting to absolve the situation “I’ll do as you say”
>”Very good” The Elder says, clasping his hands together in a placatory gesture “I will lay out your mission then”
>His guard rolls a large map down onto the table, then places a small marker down on it
>”A logging outpost has begun construction at this point. It is lightly guarded right now, but I can’t spare enough men for a raiding force. You lot will have to deal with this.”
>He takes his leave there, walking past me out of the room
>His guard follows, pushing me backwards as he walks past
>I almost swing at him, but think better of it 
>Turning back to the table, I almost collide with the green plant girl, and hastily step back
>She presses forward, and I soon feel my back against a wall
>She places her hand on my chest, her face mere millimeters from mine
>Her other hand rises up, resting on my cheek before she speaks
>”Ahhh” she moans, letting out a breathy sigh “What do we have here”
>The scent of her breath pervades my nostrils, sweet and aromatic
>I feel hot, sweaty, my face feels flush
>”Uh” I try and respond, but I forget how to speak, her aroma swirling in the air between us
>”Stay off of him” I hear a muddled voice call, like I’m hearing it underwater
>The plant lady is suddenly pulled back from me, and the feeling of heat disappears
>The Eladrin says something to her that I don’t quite catch, before the plant lady returns to me, staying at a more respectful distance now
>”You can call me Filo” she says, pronouncing it Fee-Low “I’m an Alraune”
>”But enough about me, what can I call you?” she says gazing at my crotch intently
>”You uh, you can call me Anon” I stammer, my brow wrought in confusion
>The words seem to wash over her, and she licks her lips while continuing to stare
>The awkwardness is broken when a large bark covered fist being extended in my direction, bumping the Alraune aside
>”You are Human.” the Treant says, its fist unwavering in front of me “I am-“ it cuts off speech into what I can only describe as the groan of a tree being forced to bend in a gale
>I’ll just call him Treebro
>I raise my fist and pound it against his, and his large wooden face cracks into a grin
>I turn toward the last two Eladrin “Are you two going to introduce yourselves?”
>The male glares at me, then spits at my feet
>The female shoots him a glare then turns back to talk to me, her light sing-songey voice chiming like a dozen birdcalls
>”My brother here is called Notgolla” she says, pursing her lips and locking her gaze with me 
>”And mine is Juniper. Now with introductions aside, we can begin.”
 
>We spend the next few hours planning our attack. They estimate a dozen guards, and one wizard somewhere in the compound. My questions were ignored, especially when I asked what a wizard was and was given incredulous looks of disbelief. They came to explain to me that in the years since the merging, human forces had begun to use mages, and that the only reason we couldn’t survey the site magically, or kill people there via magic was because a mage was protecting it. 
>This only raised more questions for me, as I had only been in the forest for a few months at most, and had never heard of wizards or mages before, but I quelled them so we could continue the briefing.
>I was eventually tasked with eliminating the wizard inside the compound, and we disbanded so I could equip myself with some weaponry
>I had assumed I would be given a spear, or a bow, but was shocked when I saw the armoury before me
>An APC, a large tactical SUV, and a few large canvas topped supply trucks sat in one corner of the massive room, piles and piles of ammo in more types than I could count
>And then there was the rest of the room
>Sitting on organic weapon racks were hundreds, no, thousands of rifles, handguns, shotguns, and various other types of firearms
>A 20mm autocannon leans against one wall, a pair of Browning .50’s nestled beside it
 
>”Can I have anything here?” I ask, excitement making my voice rise
>Juniper smirks at my excitement, but I’m too happy to care
>”Have at it” she answers, and that’s all the permission I need
>Like a kid in a candy store I dart from rifle to rifle, before eventually I make a game plan
>I need a marksman’s rifle, to open with; then an assault rifle, maybe a bullpup? For attacking the compound itself; and finally a handgun, a sidearm in case things go wrong
>A knife would be nice too, but I don’t see any melee weapons amongst this collection
>I start with a marksmen’s rifle, considering from the huge selection a few favourites
>A Mauser K98, with a large x8 scope and a bipod
>A Steyr Scout, with a long eye relief Leupold scope
>A H&K PSG1, with the signature tripod and Hensoldt ZF 6×42 scope and a large suppressor
>A tan Barrett M107, the so called ‘light .50’, with a massive Leupold mark 4 scope
>And then I see it
>A glowing halo in my vision
>Finally within my reach
>An Accuracy International AWM
>Olive Green, with a Schmidt & Bender 5-25×56 and a genuine Accuracy International bipod 
>A long black suppressor is screwed onto the end of the barrel, further lengthening its profile
>Going to the ammunition pile I find the large, heavy .338 Lapua Magnum rounds 
>So many types! 
>Such a high grain! 
>I find some 250 grain API, a box of 10, and a box of 20 300 grain hollow points
>I load them into a few magazines I find, taking a five round of the API and two five rounds of the hollow point
>Looking through the rifles, I’m completely overwhelmed, but eventually settle on a Tavor, taking a pair of 30 round magazines with me, and a 60 round drum
>Finally, I find a tan M9a3 with a laser on the underside, and a spare set of magazines for that
>I find a plate carrier in the APC, and a few ceramic plates to outfit my front and back with
>The spare webbing is attached to the front, and I manage to fit all the magazines
>A belt and holster are discovered not long after, and I tighten the belt around my waist, still shirtless and pantless
>Dumping my collection in a heap against the corner, I ask where I can find a knife
>I’m lead to yet another room, full of swords and knives with blades of that weird bluish ore all the Eladrin weapons seem to use 
>”Why do all these blades look like that?” I ask, running my finger down the spine of a Kabar looking knife with a long trailing point
>”They’re made from moon ore” Juniper explains “The ore nullifies magick, and retains a sharp edge for years at a time.”
>”However” she says, picking up the blade I was looking at “They are incredibly brittle.”
>She presses down on the tip and hilt of the blade, keeping her thumbs leveraged in the center
>A wince as a sound like a thousand cut springs echoes through the air
>When my eyes open seconds later, the knife sits in her open palms, the hilt and half the blade in one, and the other half of the blade in the other
>After a few seconds she closes her hands, then turns to walk away, presumably to dispose of the knife
>Picking up an identical knife, I mimic her hold, pressing against the centre of the blade with my thumbs while pressuring the hilt and tip with my other fingers
>Nothing
>It doesn’t bend, not even slightly
>I press it down against my knee, placing a hand on either side and using my back to give it a shove
>Still nothing
>I sit there for a few more moments attempting to bend the blade, before a voice interrupts me 
>”What are you doing?” Juniper asks from behind me
>”Uh, nothing” I say, embarrassment flushing my cheeks
>”This blade seems good.” I state as I sheath it on my belt
>”Hmmm” she hums at me, as if she already knew what I had been trying to do
>”I have one last thing for you, come with me”
>I follow her out of the workshop, back into the armoury, where a wooden mannequin of sorts stands next to my pile of guns
>Draped around the mannequins shoulders is a ghillie mantle with a hood
>The ghillie mantle is the same fall colours as the Eladrin around me, hues of yellow, orange, red, and brown
>I swish it around me like a cape, draping it over my shoulders to clasp it together over my chest
>It feels virtually weightless, as if I’m wearing nothing at all
>Which technically I’m not, as I’m still in my undies
>As I pull up the hood experimentally, a cowl rises from the front of the cloak, obscuring my nose and mouth
>”The cloak is enchanted” Juniper says, grasping the edge of the mantle and running her hand down it
>”It will change colours with the forest around you, and will do its best to protect you from harm”
>”What do you mean by that?” I ask experimentally
>”The cloak will protect you from small caliber bullets, as well as falling from heights, and will prove resistant to slashing and stabbing attacks”
>fuckingcool.avi
>I start picking up my weapons, slinging the Tavor in front of my chest and the AWM over my shoulder
>The M9a3 is holstered steadily at my left hip, the additional straps from the holster running across my naked thigh
>Speaking of naked
>”Can I get some actual clothes now? Maybe some shoes?” I test, hoping for real answers this time
>She looks at me disdainfully for a moment, something she seems to do a lot
>”No time, we have to go now”
>And so we set off, weapons in hand, into the forest to begin our first mission
 
Post 6
 
>Be me
>Innawoods as fuck
>And it feels so great to be back
>The leaves crunch underfoot as I stalk through the forest with my party
>Accompanying me are two orange Eladrin, a Treant, and an Alraune
>The first Eladrin, Juniper, takes point
>Her curvy form is accentuated by the armour she wears, covering the front of her limbs and sternum, her bare midriff and lower back exposed for me to see
>Her hips sway as she paces through the forest, her expertly placed footsteps falling without sound
>Her brother, Notgolla, follows behind me
>I can feel his glare stabbing daggers into my back
>Treebro shuffles forward to my right, creaking and a thud accompanying every step
>I can’t pronounce his name, so he’s Treebro now
>The Alraune, Filo, glides to my left
>I purposely avoid looking at her, but am still keenly aware of her lustful gaze at me
>I had made the mistake earlier today, and nearly payed for it with my virginity
>We continue through the forest for a bit, until eventually coming to a stop for a short rest
>”Target is only a few miles out” Notgolla says while playing with his knife
>The words stirred a nervous anticipation in my stomach
>While I was confident, I had never actually been part of a raid before
>Would I do good? Or would I falter?
>Setting my doubts aside, I tune back in as I realize the others were talking
>”-and I’ll take the human with me to the overlook” Notgolla finishes “You got that human?”
>”Uh Ya” I blurt, recovering “Clear as mud”
>I head forth with Notgolla and Filo, Treebro and Juniper split off in a separate direction
>I want to ask we’re they’re going but don’t want to seem like I wasn’t paying attention
>Even though I totally wasn’t
>We head up a steep incline, a hill a little over a kilometer away from the target
>A small encampment rests at the top of the hill, sandbags surrounding the perimeter and the construction of a watchtower sits in the centre
>A small camp sits to one side, and a porta potty on the other
>They seem to be in the process of clearing trees, as stumps litter the ground and a few saplings remain
>Three men occupy the clearing, rifles either held or lying nearby 
>They wear a mismatch of gear, black plate carriers with webbing, elbow and kneepads, but no helmets
>One shoulders an axe, and heads towards a sapling in the middle of the camp
>”Don’t do it.” I hear Filo whisper to Notgolla
>I set down my AWM, raising the Tavor to my shoulder
>Remaining low and hidden, I inch to the right, keeping a clear line on all targets
>The man reaches the sapling, and raises his axe to strike
>”Don’t. Do. It.” Filo hisses again
>What is she on about?
>The axe hits the sapling, striking deep but not quite severing it
>The heavy THUNK echoes wearily through the forest
>Notgolla lets out a stifled grunt behind me
>The man pulls the head back, the sapling lilting over with its newly unsupported weight
>”I’m sorry little one” Notgolla says, and the sapling explodes
>Leaves fly in all directions and an audible CRACK like a gunshot fills the clearing
>The leaves are heaviest around the sapling, a tornado of red orange and brown
>I can barely hear the swish of the blade before it flies from the swirling mass
>It sails across the clearing, impaling itself in the neck of on of the men, who utters a gurgled cry
>Hands reach from the leaves, one grabbing the man with the axe by the throat while his other plants a knife in his gut
>The leaves begin to settle, revealing Notgolla’s form in their midst
>He releases his grip on the man, who slumps to his knees, the axe falling from his hands
>Notgolla grips the shaft of the axe, turning towards the third man
>The man scrambles for his rifle, his desperate hands pulling it up to his shoulder and cocking the bolt in preparation to fire
>He never gets the opportunity to, as Notgolla sprints towards, him, axe held aloft in one hand
>The blade sails through the air, catching the man perfectly in the neck, and continuing through without resistance
>The head rolls off a comical second later, the body crunching the freshly fallen leaves as it falls to the ground
>A moment of silence covers the clearing
>”is-is that it?” I start to say before I’m interrupted
>The porta potty door opens, and a man goes to exit 
>”What the fuck is going on out here?” He manages to say before he sees Notgolla, standing over the slumped corpse of his comrade
>He starts to say something else, but is quickly interrupted as the ground beneath him bucks and throbs
>He’s thrown back into the porta potty, the door slamming shut behind him as a tendril-like branch rises from the ground, curling around the porta potty and lifting it clear off the ground
>The branch heaves back and forth once, twice, and a third time before letting go, throwing the porta potty down the hill
>It flies down the hill, and hits the ground hard, its momentum carrying the impact into a continued tumble down the hill
>It rolls for a few more seconds before it hits a tree, splitting as it does
>The fragile plastic comes apart like wet paper, the contents spewing out around the impact site
>The sole occupant lies on the ground, their limbs and head twisted at awkward angles, clearly broken
>”Site is secured” Filo whispers behind me, her tongue caressing my outer ear. “You can be at ease”
>I shudder involuntarily whipping my head around to find her only inches away 
>I stumble backwards, my bare feet getting caught on themselves
>My hands fall beside me, and the Alraune continues forwards, her face near inches from mine
>Her hair flows down, curtaining off the rest of the world
>I feel her finger run up my shirtless chest, up my neck, before finally coming to a stop under my chin
>She licks her lips 
>Her mouth curls into a wicked smile
>Her tongue darts out, and she licks my lips
>I blush, not knowing what to do I stutter something out but she moves her finger from my chin to my lips
>”Don’t speak, but once all this is over come and see me”
>She gazes into my eyes for another second “In private.”
>I close my eyes and try to stutter out a response, but when I open them again she’s gone
>”Shit.” I curse quietly, grabbing my rifles and begin moving up the hill
>The previously clear clearing is now covered in a blanket of leaves, which crunch underfoot as I reach the top
>Filo and Notgolla stand at the edge of the hill, behind one of the sandbag emplacements, gazing down
>I pick up my pace with a little jog and reach them soon after, tuning into the discussion
>”The camp is down there, less than half a kilometer” Notgolla says, gazing down the hill
>His bow is in his hands, an arrow nocked
>I set up my AWM, deploying the bipod and settling into a prone position to the side of the sandbags
>Looking through the scope, I survey the area
>A log cabin structure occupies the centre, three shipping crate like containers off to the side
>Each container has a door and a window, and the cabin has a door and two windows
>A dirt path links the three, and heads to a small motor pool a bit away
>Two large canvas topped trucks wait there, as well as a lifted jeep with the doors and windows removed, and a pair of SUV’s like we had seen before
>Miniguns sit on top of the SUV’s, and I can see the gleam of oil on their barrels
>A small checkpoint sits at the entrance to the camp, a dirt road winding away past it
>Two guards sit at the checkpoint, in clear view of the rest of the compound
>Sandbags and crates, as well as a few barrels litter the area in front of the compound
>An MG nest with a tripod mounted M249 sits in front of the log cabin
>About a dozen people walk around the compound, equipped with various bits of gear and weaponry
>A patrol moves around the perimeter, three men, and I can see Juniper and Treebro laying in wait to ambush them
>I hear the twang of an arrow next to me, and watch as Notgolla’s arrow speeds through the air
>From this distance?
>The arrow seems to ignore physics, flying straight and true through the air
>No drop, no windage, no loss in velocity
>This is almost cheating
>At the last second the arrow curves hard to the left, slamming into the back of one of the guards necks
>He goes down quickly, and I see Juniper dart from the bush behind them before their compatriots body even hits the ground
>Her hands press against their backs, and they collapse, slumping down into her arms
>She lets the bodies down slowly, then Treebro pulls them into the bush they had hid in
>Nicely done, all executed without a hitch
>Now for my part
>I sight the two people at the front checkpoint
>Cocking the bolt, I lay my finger across the trigger
>One stands outside, a big male with broad shoulders and a bald head
>He holds a FN P90, which looks like a child’s toy in his massive hands
>He wears a small blue crystal around his neck, and I call over to Notgolla
>”Its enchanted” he says, before I can prose my question “Protects against small arms”
>My AWM is anything but a small arm
>The other occupant of the checkpoint is a woman, a G3 slung across her flat chest
>Short blonde hair flows from under her helmet, she wears no enchanted crystal I can see
>I sight the man first, then raise the scope, guessing the drop off and windage
>A bead of sweat trickles down my face
>The leaves beneath me scratch my bare chest
>I pull the trigger
>The recoil slams against my shoulder, and the shot zings out of the suppressed barrel with a sound like a hundred consecutive cracks
>I can clearly see the glowing hot round falling through the air, arcing towards the large man
>It drops a bit, spiraling through the air
>Then lands in the ground less than a foot away from him
>The dirt explodes upwards with a puff, and he reacts with surprise, turning to see the impact
>My hand flies up, slamming the bolt up, back, and then forward
>I fire again
>This shot flies out towards him as well, dropping a bit lower than the first but my aim was true
>As it nears him, his crystal attempts to block the shot
>arcing tendrils form a bubble of light in front of him, and for a second the bullet stops
>Then with a sound like shattering glass it breaks through, the .338 hitting him directly in the abdomen
>His corpse tumbles backwards, nearly blown in two by that shot, but I’m not looking
>The woman reacted after the second shot, throwing herself behind the small booth and getting herself out of line of sight
>I had already cycled the bolt and fired another round when she peeked out just a moment later
>The round smashed through the thin glass of the booth, slamming into her head
>Her helmet was knocked into the air as her body tumbled to the ground
>”Lets go” I hear Notgolla call from behind me, and I clamber to my feet 
>Filo seems to have been scratching the ground behind me while I got rid of the two guards, and a gaping hole in the earth soon opens
>A chasm, roughly the size of a hula hoop descends downwards, darkness enveloping it after only a foot or so down
>Tendrils of roots and trees swirl around the depths, and the sound it makes reminds me of a garburator 
>Notgolla slings his bow over his shoulder and jumps in feet first, and the sound it makes reminds me of the Angel Grapefruit Technique
>Filo winks at me “Your turn now”
>Seeing no other option I suck in a breath of air and jump in
>Darkness engulfs me, and I feel vines caressing my body, tugging me down
>A sweet smell, like cane sugar and cherries, fills my nostrils and I hear a haunting laugh
>Then I’m back, thrown to my feet beside Notgolla and Juniper
>The garburator sound ceases, and Filo joins us
>The compound sits just a few feet away, beginning to descend into chaos
>Notgolla takes off without a word, running towards a group of men trying to clamber into a vehicle
>”Are you ready?” Juniper asks in her light tune, her sword drawn
>”When you are” I respond
>My Tavor is locked and loaded, my heart fluttering in anticipation
>The tip of her sword cuts circles in the air for a few seconds
>”Go!” she shouts, and bursts forward
>I pop up from the ditch, firing a burst as I run forward into the camp
>The shots connect with a man in tactical gear holding a rifle of his own who seemed to be running for the main cabin
>The first round hits him in the back, the impact spinning him around as the next two shots slam into his chest
>Juniper pulls her sword from the body of yet another guard, the second of a pair which lay at her feet
>She flicks the blood off her blade and looks for new targets before she’s interrupted
>A crackle of energy fills the air as a volley of handgun rounds stop solidly in the air beside her
>She turns to see a man in overalls, holding a smoking handgun, and darts off towards him
>I plug another man in the chaos , before sliding into cover behind a few loose crates
>And just in time, the sound of the machine gun opens up, bullets impacting the crates and the area around me
>I risk a glance, and am thankful I did
>Treebro staggers towards the machine gun, the scared gunners finger clamping down on the trigger
>The bullets barely seem to affect him, and his massive fist slams into the machine gun nest, throwing the gunner and his weapon right through the log cabins wall
>The impact raises dust, and I look around the camp, peeking over the crates I had used as cover
>The camp is eerily silent, Juniper seems to have finished off another guard and Notgolla approaches from the motor pool holding a trio of heads in hands by their hair
>Treebro retracts his fist backwards, letting it hand by his side
>The silence is suddenly broken by Filo
>”Watch out!” She screams, as a plume of fire escapes the cabin
>Treebro staggers backwards, the force knocking him back several feet
>His feet dig trenches in the ground as he resists the force
>His extremity branches, the leaves and flowers that sprout around him burst into flames
>He lets out a deep, low groan, and staggers backwards
>A trio of fireballs are flung from inside the cabin, impacting along his torso, setting him yet more ablaze
>A man emerges from the hole in the wall
>He wears MARPAT gear, including a plate carrier, but sports a long white and wispy beard
>On his hat is a giant mockery of Gandalf’s hat, crinkled tip and all, but in MARPAT
>He raises his hands for another spell, but my burst of gunfire interrupts him
>My bullets stop in the air before him, catching him off guard
>He dives down from the cabin, rolling behind a stack of barrels
>I quickly reload, dropping the magazine to the dirt beneath me and slotting in a new one
>No sooner had I reloaded before he takes off towards me, vaulting the barrels with a handgun in one hand
>His other hand is outstretched and he mutters an incantation at me
>I aim at his centre mass, and pull the trigger
>I cant accurately describe what happened next
>As I pull the trigger my Tavor just kind of… field strips itself… in my hands… 
>The parts fall to the ground around me, and I drop it in shock
>Then a round hits me
>His round stops less and a centimeter from my skin, disturbing the air around it
>Then another joins it
>I hit the deck before my barrier can be overloaded, fumbling for my pistol
>I barely manage to draw it before he vaults over my own crates flying overtop of me
>My handgun’s flashlight toggles on, right in his face, blinding him
>I feel his own shots land in the dirt beside my head
>But I knew my bullets wouldn’t hurt him
>If he can stop 5.56 what could a handgun do?
>Instead, I slam my handgun into the side of his head
>He tumbles down, stunned
>I draw my knife
>I roll over, straddling over top of him
>He puts his hand in my face, and begins to mutter some incantation
>”Not today!” I shout, slamming the dagger down into him with both hands
>I feel a rush of wind across my face
>A resistance beneath the blade
>The grass on my shins
>And…no pain?
>His hand drops from my face, falling down across his chest
>I shakily get to my feet
>Juniper and Notgolla stand in front of me
>”I knew you wouldn’t let us down Anon” She says to me
>I feel the adrenaline leave my system, and I feel faint
>I had just killed people
>Multiple people
>I feel like I’m going to vomit
>”It’s okay. You did well” Juniper has me in a hug now, I can feel her arms on my back
>I realize I’m resting most of my weight on her
>”T-thanks” I stutter out, then shakily release myself
>The following few minutes are a blur, as Filo extinguishes Treebro while Juniper and Notgolla comb the camp for survivors and useful info
>I spend most of it trying to reassemble the Tavor, finding the different pieces in the grass proved difficult
>Eventually, we gear up to leave, preparing to torch the place and begin our journey back
>”Hold on” I say, heading towards the motor pool
>I climb into the drivers seat of the lifted jeep I had seen earlier, flipping down the visor
>Nothing
>Why had I expected the keys to be there?
>I search the compound myself, and find them pretty quickly in the log cabin
>Joyous, I run back outside
>”We ride back in style” I inform the party, saddling into the drivers seat of the jeep once more
>It takes some trying, but we manage to feet Treebro in the trunk, his head bursting through the roll cage 
>I wonder for a second about attaching red flags to his arms, which hang over the sides of the jeep
>Notgolla and Filo sit in the back, while Juniper rides shotgun up front with me
>We take off, the compound beginning to blaze behind us
>Notgolla’s doing I think
>”Is it right to set a place on fire like that?” I ask aloud turning my head towards Juniper
>She’s hanging out of the side of the jeep, her hair blowing in the wind behind her
>A huge smile adorns her face, but she removes it when notices I’m looking at her
>The Forest around it will not burn, and the ashes it lays will fertilize a whole new generation of forest
>I don’t know how to respond to that
>And so an awkward silence settles as we drive back home
 
Post 7
 
>The ride back was quicker than the hike there
>Off-roading a jeep is so much fun
>The feeling of suspension bucking beneath me was enough to bring me to tears
>How long had it been since I had rode in a vehicle?
>Regardless we returned back to base in pleasant time
>The whole drive back, whenever I looked into the rearview Filo was watching
>Ready to meet my eyes
>With a giggle, she would hold the contact until I broke it
>Whatever lady
>I pull the jeep into the base, a towering, sprawling wood monument, like weeds in the underbrush
>Only several stories tall and made of pure oak
>The rustle of the forest turned to a creak as the jeep drove through the wooden arched entranceway
>The others exit the vehicle and help move Treebro out of the back
>Amber coloured sap trickles from his pockmarked entry wounds, which range from the width of pencils to a grown mans fist
>I’m about to pull away when Juniper calls for me
>”Anon” She begins
>Her voice is smooth and melodic, entrancing
>I can feel my vision swim into her words
>”Enough” I mutter to myself, shaking my head 
>”What was that?” She asks, tilting her head quizzically 
>”Nothing, nothing. You were saying?” I ask, pinching myself on the leg to remain focused
>”We’ll be having a dinner in a bit. Park the car and head to your room, I’ll have someone guide you.”
>”Thanks” I utter with a smile, then rev the jeep forward
>I park the jeep in the armoury, next to the other half dozen captured vehicles
>The gas tank is half empty, but I’ll leave that for another day
>I’m stopped as I go to leave
>”Your weapons” an Eladrin states, glaring at me suspiciously
>“Leave them here.”
>I debate causing trouble, but decide against it
>Giving up, I deposit my weapons the front seat of the jeep, before turning back to leave
>The guard stops me again
>”What now?” I ask incredulously, my tone turning to anger
>”I need to search you” He says with a degree of finality, stepping around behind me ”Raise your arms”
>I feel dumbstruck for a moment 
>”I’m wearing nothing but this mantle and my underwear” I say, speaking slowly ”Please explain where exactly I could be hiding a weapon” 
>I feel the hit coming before it happens
>Ducking down, I then lurch to the side, before turning about on the heel of my foot
>The butt of the spear occupies the space where my head had been just moments earlier
>He locks his gaze with me “The princess may owe you respect, but every other person in this palace? We despise you and your kind.”
>He spits at my feet, then returns to glare at me “Now scurry off back to her, and wonder how long until she tires of you”
>Turning back towards the exit, I cast one more suspicious glance over my shoulder before I leave
>I saunter down to my room, fully aware of the mistrustful looks I receive from many Eladrin as I do
>Sighing reluctantly, I duck the doorway into what was previously my drab and boring cell 
>I’m pleasantly surprised however, to find the room as a completely different environment
>The bars are gone, replaced with a privacy screen made from leaves the size of a canoe
>Vines encrust the walls, holding various plants aloft
>Flowers of all sizes sprout, petals adding splashes of colour to the previously barren walls
>A new chair accompanies the desk, which I sink into
>Its soft and warm, and only then do I realize how cold I should be
>I’ve been bare chested in the forest for hours now, in the middle of autumn
>And yet I feel fine
>It must have been one of Junipers enchantments, or maybe my mantle itself
>As I think of Juniper the sickly sweet smell of blackberries pervades my nostrils
>Did she decorate my room? 
>The thought makes me blush without realizing and I recline further back, shaking my head in embarrassment
>Was I really thinking about her like this? She’s one of my captors
>Just a few short days ago she had been trying to have me executed
>I squinch my eyes shut for a moment, then exhale a deep breath
>”You cant trust these creatures anon” I mutter to myself
>Then my eyes catch on what’s growing above my desk
>A bush of blackberries, with a small roll of parchment tucked halfway into the wild
>I brush a few blackberries aside, feeling their juicy weight as I reach for the scroll
>”I hope you remember our deal Anon.” It reads “Meet me tonight, after dinner.”
>I feel disappointment in my chest
>Filo did this? Not Juniper?
>Why did I feel disappointed over this? 
>My thoughts are interrupted by a low growl at my door
>I turn, reaching for a weapon that isn’t there 
>Notgolla stands perched in the doorway, his lips slightly parted
>”I wont have you make us late” he says, turning curtly
>I flounder off the chair, finding my feet as I hurry after him
>Notgolla leads me through the halls, never bothering to check if I’ve kept up
>Eventually we come into a large feast hall, already sparsely populated by a variety of races
>I’m shown my seat with yet another glare, and ordered not asked to sit
>I sit for a bit, observing the dishes being brought out and the people entering into the hall
>Eventually Juniper comes in, but she isn’t alone
>She’s surrounded by a throng of attendants, who scurry after her like paparazzi
>The sound of her attending mass approaches me, then passes by without a word 
>Juniper finishes walking the length of the table, then seats near the end without a word
>The feast soon begins in earnest, and I collect a few fruits onto my plate
>No meat is to be found, but trays laden with berries and fruits cover the table
>I’m lost in my thoughts, zoning out as I suck the juice out of a particularly juicy plum when I feel a hand on my shoulder 
>”Are you Anon?” a voice asks from over my shoulder
>I turn, slightly surprised, to see who had asked
>A tall brunette stands behind me, a serious expression on her face
>My eyes are immediately drawn to a set of antlers that emerge from her hair, before I scan the rest of her body
>She’s tall and lithe, with muscles bulging against her dark olive skin
>Her belly is toned into a flat six pack, not an ounce of flab to be seen
>My gaze travels down to her massive thighs, smooth and toned, as if they were etched out of obsidian
>Her thighs end in a unguligrade bend, before continuing down into a set of goats feet
>She is adorn with a sash, made from wrappings of leaves accented in gold, the rest of her body laying bare save for her breast, which is covered in the same way
>Her deep brown eyes bore into me, and her long elf-like ears flick in annoyance. “Well?”
>”U-uh y-yes” I stammer out, pausing for a moment after “And you are?” 
>”Nereid” She responds shortly, placing her hands on her hips in perceived annoyance
>”You are to meet me at the training grounds at dawn tomorrow. Understood?”
>I nod. “Yeah, sure. Should I-“
>She turns and walks away before I can finish asking her if I should bring anything
>The meal continues uninfringed for some time, and I manage to sample a few more dishes
>All the platters in front of me, and for what I can see down the table, are laden purely with fruit and vegetables
>Is this cannibalism?
>It would probably be better if I didn’t ask
>The feast continues unabated, and Jovial music soon begins to filter through the room, echoing from unseen sources
>Though disgruntled at the lack of meat, seeing no other options I grab some fruit
>The fruit is rich, and overflowing with juices
>I feel invigorated as soon as the sweet nectar trickles down my throat, warming me like a good whiskey
>And on the topic of alcohol, it was brought out in spades
>Ryes, Wines, and moonshines carried out in ornately carved chalices, almost to the point of overflowing
>I lose myself to the buzz of the alcohol and the sway of the music, feeling happier even despite my loneliness
>Soon a great clamoring draws my attention
>The wizened old man I had seen in the courtroom many days-weeks even?- ago stands at the precipice of a raised platform overlooking the room
>The music does not stop to let him speak, but rather as he does his words filter along the notes, arriving to my ears like liquid honey
>I almost lose myself to the tune, my drunken haze making me unsteady at my feet
>Suddenly, my arms are grabbed, and I’m dragged from my seat
>Panicked, I snap my head to my left and right
>Two guards, decked in ceremonial looking armour have me by my armpits, dragging me along towards the platform
>The quickly march me up there, then throw me to my knees in front of the old man
>I try to rise but am forced back down to my knees
>He kneels down in front of me, placing his lips near my ear
>”Know this pains me so. Had I any other path, I would have chosen it. My arms are tied, nothing more.” He whispers quickly into my ear
>Turning, he stands up and takes something from Juniper, who had been standing behind him
>Her smile wavered for a moment as he said something to her, before turning back to me
>”I hold here the mark of a great champion!” He roared, holding something aloft in his hands
>”For a great champion has risen among us!” He shouts to the crowd, who roars back approvingly
>”From this point on let no Eladrin, nor those who associate with us doubt the true strength of this MAN”
>He utters the last word with a look of disgust, which carries with him as he looks down to me
>Returning to his normally pleasant face he declares forth “I anoint Anon with the greatest of our military honours, the Laurel of Champions! May he continue his exemplary service!”
>He places something on my head, and I feel something like vines coiling into my hair
>The crowd below us roars again, and I’m escorted down, less roughly this time
>The Eladrin seem more welcoming to me now, several coming up to me and greeting me
>I’m introduced to dozens of them, the names lost to me mere seconds after I had heard them
>Several carry high ranks and noble names which are lost to my alcohol addled mind, and the rest of the night blurs by
>Names, faces, more drinks, and the enchanting tune throughout it all
>Eventually, the crowd starts to trickle out, and I see Junipers entourage heading toward the door
>I quickly excuse myself from whoever I was talking to, and break away towards her
>I move hastily, not quite running as to avoid tripping over my own feet
>I skirt through the crowd, and catch up to her as she is about to leave 
>”Juniper!” I call out reaching out and grabbing her wrist
>She turns to me, her face bearing a look between anger and sadness
>”Anon, unhand me” She orders, her voice curt “While you may now be a champion, you must remember your station. Do not refer to me in such a familiar manner again.” 
>Her words cut deep into me, and I shrivel back
>”Don’t you care about me?” I ask pleadingly
>I could feel my drunken state begin to form a confession
>”We are comrades, and nothing more.” She says as if to answer my unsaid profession
>She turns back to her clique and promptly leaves me standing sullenly alone in front of the door