>be me
>awkward silence between me and the mercenary
>we've been on the road for half an hour, still four to five hours to go
>"So, how long are you going to stay on the other side?"
>"About three years in total, but maybe not all in one go"
>"Three fucking years and all you'll be doing is look at the stars?"
>unironically wish I could, but no
>"Most of it will be planning observations, maintaining instruments and analyzing the data"
>"Sounds even more boring"
>probably true for most people, but I'm not most people
>I'm an astronomy grad student at a small observatory in Germany
>while we still have some small telescopes, the data we work with usually comes from somewhere else
>usually from the huge telescopes in Chile or the US, we contribute to those by building specialized instruments
>but I'm not going to the other side of the Atlantic, my work will be done on the other side of the portals
>we set up a small observatory there a little more than a year ago, so far it was run by just one guy, Max
>Max used to give us regular updates, but it has been a little over two months since he made his last report while traveling
>hope he is just having issues communicating and isn't in any trouble
>after I find him the plan for me is to head for the observatory
>once there it will be comfy telescope hours with a whole new sky full of unknown stars
>as excited as I am for that, the thought of going to the New World is quite scary
>you hear some crazy stories from time to time
>Orc hordes ravaging entire tracts of land, Dragons, walking skeletons
>the area where our research base is seems to be rather peaceful though
>at least the reports Max gave didn't read like Lord of the Rings
>but I guess there are reasons why I'm traveling with a bodyguard

>the mercenaries name is Greg
>from what I can tell his accents sounds American
>another short lived attempt at small talk reveals he's from Virginia
>go back to reading while he turns on the music
>it's a wild mix, country, Irish rebel songs, military songs from countries I've never heard of
>in most of his playlist the common denominators are conflict and guns
>all of the Americans I've met before were city people, far from the stereotype of the gun toting redneck
>not this guy, he is living it
>he carries a handgun in a holster, a second one is under the steering wheel
>behind the seats are a pump gun and a Kalashnikov, and knifes of all shapes and sizes are scattered in the car
>the car itself is an older Ford pickup truck with a cap in the back
>not sure how he keeps it supplied with fuel, a truck like this probably needs lots of it
>and I didn't see any spare canisters in the back
>with this in mind, I keep glimpsing at the fuel meter every now and then
>hours pass, we've been driving through Bavaria for quite a while now, yet the tank seems to remain full
>keep racking my brains how this is possible for twenty minutes, finally give up and ask
>"The previous owner made some modifications, not sure what exactly either" is the only thing I get out of him
>before I can ask any further questions, he reaches behind to a cooler
>"Come to think of it..."
>hands me a bottle of milk
>"Cheers, to strong and healthy bones"

>we arrive at a campground outside a village at around 5 pm
>next to a Bavarian traditional style house is a meadow with some fir trees
>put up my tent, Greg says he sleeps in his truck
>we drive back to the village to stock up on groceries
>mostly all sorts of canned goods, those are always good to have on the other side according to Greg
>back at camp we cook dinner
>fry some bacon, reserve, use the grease to brown onions and garlic, add bacon back in with beans and canned tomatoes
>BoneAppleTea.jpg
>there's something about rustic cooking over an open fire
>or maybe I'm just hungry
>after a lot of rolling around in my sleeping back, I finally fall asleep
>wake up early next morning, the spot where I put my tent gets a lot of morning sun
>we have a minimalist breakfast before we get on the road again
>it's slightly less than an hour to the portal
>the few portals on German soil are controlled by the military
>my professor pulled a couple strings to get the necessary paperwork for everyone involved with the project
>we get through the checkpoints without any issues
>the closer we get, the more bunkers we see, and the more my guts are revolting
>I'm no botanist, but some of the plants around here look a bit strange
>after passing a turn we finally get to see it
>it is circular, emitting a pale, blue glow
>Greg stops the car
>"Alright, fasten your seat belt and try not to move, portals can be nasty you move around to much while passing"
>already had the seat belt on, but now my urge to shit greater, thanks
>he puts the pedal to the metal before I have any chance to respond
>everything seems to be in slow motion
>the big blue thing coming closer and closer
>the trucks engine roaring
>Greg laughing like a mad man
>oh fuck, here we go

>close my eyes as the blue light of the portal gets painfully bright
>frantically grip to my seat and the door
>it feels like free fall
>this is usually the part of the nightmare you wake up from
>gravity comes back all of a sudden and pushes me into my seat
>open my eyes, take a deep breath
>Greg lets out a triumphant yell and drums on the wheel with his hands
>everyone handles their adrenaline differently I guess
>we get out of the car to calm down a little
>behind us is the portal, looks just like the one on the other side, but the landscape has changed quite a bit
>the terrain is relatively flat compared to the Ammergau Alps we just left, the only elevation is a small hill
>on it stands a radio mast with a small concrete building at its foot
>as far as I know it records incoming transmissions and the army comes to collect the data about once per week
>that's how Max used to send his reports
>compared to the lush green meadows in Bavaria, the grass here is more dry and brown
>a few bushes are scattered across the grass land, the dirt road in front of us takes a turn to the right, towards a grove
>instead of coniferous trees these are broad leafed
>it's also warmer here, the climate is supposed to be more Mediterranean if I remember correctly
>definitely to warm for the jacket I'm wearing
>Greg points to the dirt road
>"Not quite the Autobahn you're used to, and this is actually one of the better ones, traveling takes time on this side"
>get back in the car after a bit of stretching
>the road runs along the edge of the grove, after a while I can see a small creek through the trees
>on the other side are some sheep and goats grazing in the distance
>small fields and vineyards start appearing, a curve to the right reveals a village we're now driving towards
>the houses are built of wood and sandstone, the car sparks the curiosity of the villagers
>most of them are Halflings, with the occasional Human or Elf in between

>Greg parks next to what seems to be an inn since the sun is already setting
>while it was early in the morning on the Earth-side of the portal, on the other side it was afternoon already
>a day here is about seven minutes shorter than on Earth
>doesn't sound like too much, but that adds up to three and a half hours per month
>we have duck down going through the door since the building is Halfling sized
>order some food and rent rooms with normal sized beds for the night
>the meal we get is a lot better than I expected, a nice stew, some fresh bread and wine in clay mugs
>while we eat the taproom fills with locals
>some of them strike up conversations and buy us more drinks
>they don't get visitors often, many of the villagers haven't seen a car before
>when asked about our business, we keep our answers vague
>some people in the New World are skeptical towards modernization from Earth
>that includes attempts to set up military bases, industry or mining operations, but also scientific exploration
>all we say is that we're looking for a missing friend further north
>the taproom empties around midnight, Greg goes to his room shortly after
>before going to bed, I have to take a little detour
>cold air hits me as I walk out of the door
>helps my head clears up, the stale air inside and the Halfling wine made me a little dizzy
>maybe more than just a little
>after walking around for a few minutes I sit down on the ground next to a small wall
>the sky looks amazing, there is not a single cloud in sight and pre-industrial Halflings don't produce much light pollution
>it's my first time seeing it in person, but I know a handful of constellations from charts
>of the three moons, I can only see the largest, it's similar in size to the one back home
>the other two are smaller and further away, number two is easy to miss, number three barely visible to the naked eye
>I keep forgetting the time, until I can barely keep my eyes open
>doze off under the open sky

>a gust of cold wind wakes me up
>fuck, where am I, why am I not at home in my bed?
>oh, right
>how long did I sleep?
>look for a specific constellation that was shining through the branches of a tree when I fell asleep
>Elves call it the Dragon, Harpies see themselves in it, no idea how the Halflings here interpret it
>the symbolism of star constellations never was my thing, knowing them is good for orientation though
>to me this one is interesting because of the bright star in the right "wing", a red supergiant
>stretch my hand towards it to make a rough estimate of the angle the stars moved
>probably look like a retard, but this assessment tells me it's been about two hours
>get up and go inside
>the door isn't locked, but I hit my head on low ceiling beams two times on the way to my room
>fall into bed and doze off again
>dream about Harpies and Dragons fighting over who gets to own the red supergiant star
>next morning we buy some bread and dried sausages before getting back on the road
>"Where have you been last night, horny for Halfling girls?" Greg asks
>"No, I fell asleep outside, looking at the stars"
>"Why am I even asking?" he laughs "I mean, the sky here looks cool at night, but spending hours stargazing is a bit much"
>"It's fucking great, and being able to name few constellations is great to impress girls"
>he goes silent, that really activated his almonds
>we continue traveling for the next three days
>villages and towns closer to the main trade route from north to south get larger
>the route runs more or less parallel to the coast in the west
>while this is still Halfling country, we come across all sorts of Elves, Dwarfes, Orcs, Tieflings and a more on our way
>the markets are filled with handcrafted things and exotic plants and animals
>on day two I buy a straw hat since the can sun can be a bit harsh
>we leave the main route behind on the third day and drive onto a large peninsula
>this is where Max made his last report

>he was out here to set up one of his small weather stations
>they have a solar panel and a battery to power them, the data is sent via radio once every hour
>while the data isn't nearly as good as what you get with satellites, it's better than nothing
>knowing when to expect clouds is very valuable for astronomy after all
>a map with the location of it makes the station easy to find
>connect my laptop to it and run a diagnostic script
>from what I can tell it was properly set up and ran without power outages ever since
>but it only could connect to the base for the first two weeks, after that the observatory went silent
>what could that mean?
>maybe Max is already back there, but the antenna is broken
>"How's the weather forecast, are we getting any rain today?"
>"Doesn't look like it, the barometric pressure is high"
>wait, I'm not the fucking weather man
>tell Greg how we're continuing
>"The setup works, it's unable to get a connection to the observatory though, we'll travel there and ask for Max along the way"
>"Maybe it was attacked, do you guys have any enemies?"
>"No, we're a bunch of nerd looking at stars, can't think of anyone who has a serious problem with that"
>but the thought is scaring the shit out me right now
>maybe radical anti-technology nutjobs, or religious fanatics? Maybe criminals who just want to loot the shiny tech stuff?
>fuck, this is making me paranoid
>we get in the car and drive to the village close by
>ask around with a picture
>one of the fisherman remembers that Max came through and left a day later without issues
>the route to the observatory runs along the trade road, further to the south than the portal we came through
>it than leaves the trade road and goes to the east, into the mountains
>there aren't any reasonable alternatives to get there, so we either find him along the way or back at the base

>asking around along the big road is lengthy and tedious
>that part of the way takes us seven days, almost double of what it would have taken normally
>finally getting away from the large buzzing towns with too many fucking inns is a relief it this point
>a goat herder remembers Max when we show him the picture and gives us a warning before we move on
>"Word is there are monsters with spears as tails along the road, the brother-in-law of my wives cousin even saw one"
>the road passes through an area full of white rocks, probably limestone, only little grass and bushes in between
>with no shade from trees, the sun burns and heats up the car
>"What do you think about that shepherds warning?" I ask Greg
>"Sounded like bullshit, in woodland further east might be Goblins, but someone told someone that someone saw a monster?"
>he takes a sip of water from his canteen, the car feels like an oven on wheels
>"The only monster that wants to live here is impending dehydration"
>the rocky trail makes you wish for the dirt roads we used to drive on before entering this karst area
>we're slow as fuck
>Greg stops after a while yelling "Toilet break!"
>could use one too, get out of the car, stretch and take a short walk around
>aside from the fact that you get cooked alive, the landscape looks really nice
>relieve myself next to a big rock as I hear a noise
>clack
>clack
>turn around
>there is a huge scorpion sitting on the rock to my right
>and by huge I mean the body is the size of a hog, stinger not included
>oh shit what do I do now?
>panic mode engaged
>run in the direction of the car, yelling things like "SCORPION", "BIG SCORPION" and "START THE ENGINE"

>around a corner I can see the pickup
>Greg is already in the drivers seat with the car running
>manage to hop in, he floors it and shoots backwards with his pistol
>"Get the AK and shoot it"
>AK, AK, that's the Kalashnikov, right?
>grad it and lean out the window
>the scorpion is keeping up with the car somehow
>pull the trigger
>nothing happens
>"Chamber a round first, idiot"
>I never held a gun before, what does that even mean?
>pull the handle at the right side, just like in the movies
>a lever blocks it, flip it down a notch and try again
>that might work
>rack the handle back once again, bring the rifle to my shoulder and pull the trigger
>everything seems to be a little slower, get tunnel vision
>the loud, rapid shots make my ears ring
>the scorpions runs off, either because it's hit or because the sound of automatic fire drove it away
>lean the rifle to the car door and catch my breath
>the last time my heart rate was this high was when we traveled through the portal
>but this time, I was in charge of the situation
>more or less
>still feels pretty good
>"Put the safety on already"
>flip the lever that blocked the gun back up, that's the safety, right?
>Greg doesn't complain anymore, so that was probably the right thing
>a certain thought crosses my mind, for the first time in my life
>I should get my own gun

>about an hour later the landscape changes
>less limestone, more vegetation
>coming down from a hill the road leads into a large forest
>arrive in a village on a river, the buildings here use less stone and more wood
>a bridge looking strong enough to let the car drive over spans the river
>the area around the village has been cleared, next to a building that looks like a sawmill is a timber raft in the water
>we get a few interested looks from the locals, as usual
>Greg carefully crosses the bridge, on the other side is a tavern
>he stays outside and checks on the car
>for me it's the same procedure as always, get the picture, go inside, ask around
>aside from the old Dwarven lady behind the counter, the tavern is empty
>walk up to her and show the picture
>"I'm looking for a friend of mine, he should have passed through a month or two ago, have you seen him?"
>she first adjusts her glasses and looks at the picture, then her expression goes from surprised to pitying
>"I am very sorry, but your friend passed away"
>takes me a moment to comprehend what she just said, the realization hits like a punch in the guts
>"Follow me, please"
>go along without saying a word
>my mind is racing during the five minute walk
>this can't be real, he was in his late 20s, why should he die here?
>she must have just confused his face
>we arrive on an open area at the edge of the village
>scattered all over the grass are elaborate wood carvings with flowers next to them
>looks like this is the village graveyard
>the grave she leads me to is only marked by a humble cross

>just stand there for a good minute
>I still can't believe that my friend and mentor is supposed to be dead, this must be a mistake
>"He came here from the road west, badly injured, and succumbed to a venom in his wound the same night"
>road west
>creature
>venom
>could it be that he ran into a giant scorpion, same as us on the way here?
>as much as I want to believe it's not true, tears slowly start streaming down my face
>"May I ask what your name is?"
>"Anon. I used to work with him, he taught me a lot"
>my own voice sounds and feels strange
>as if I'm not really there and listening to a recording of myself
>she nods and responds "He mentioned you, I think it would be best if you took his belongings"
>now the floodgates are open, takes me a moment to get a hold of myself
>don't know how long I stood there, finally turn around and follow the Dwarf
>we pass Greg, who is still standing by the car
>he doesn't say a word, but his compassionate look is telling
>the innkeeper leads me to a storeroom filled with bedclothes, vats and cleaning utensils
>she puts a few things on a small table
>recognize the laptop and the small custom made telescope he partially built himself
>next to those the Dwarf puts a rifle
>one of those old-timey ones with a big handle sticking out to the right
>didn't know he had a gun, but after the experience made a couple hours prior I am not that surprised
>rent the room with the biggest windows and buy some booze
>spend the evening cleaning and setting up the telescope
>after only a few minutes looking through it I've had enough

>wake up and feel like shit
>might have something to do with the fact that I haven't eaten in a while
>coming to think of it, my last meal was yesterday's breakfast
>take a closer look at the rifle
>it is over a meter in length, with a dark brown wooden stock and a sling attached
>the number 1914 is stamped on top of the receiver
>is this thing really over a hundred years old?
>with it came a large pouch filled with ammo, some rounds grouped as five and held together by a piece of metal, others loose or in cardboard boxes
>try to cycle it, but the bolt won't move, but doesn't look rusted
>maybe it's because of some safety feature
>check the receiver for a lever like the one on the AK, the only one I can find on the left won't change positions
>that's probably not it
>just as I'm about to give up a thing on the rear of the bolt catches my eye
>a flat lever pointing to the right, hiding in plain sight, the bastard
>flip it up and try to cycle again
>now it is working
>figuring this out makes me feel at least a little bit better
>go downstairs to get breakfast
>Greg is already sitting there and eating, join him and say "Good morning"
>"Mornin, how are you?"
>"Ask me again after I had something to eat"
>grab a piece of bread and a slice cheese along with some sort of herbal tea
>that's great cheese, and the tea works really well with it
>or I'm just hungry
>"I'm sorry for your loss, really didn't expect we would find him like this"
>I nod and thank him
>"What happens now? Do I take you back to the portal?"
>"No, I'm going to the observatory, and while we're on our way there, I want to learn to shoot"

>after breakfast I take my stuff and load it into the truck
>Greg walks up just as I set down the rifle
>"That's a beauty you got there, really well preserved"
>I ask him if he knows what type it is
>"You should know, you guys lost two world wars with these things"
>"Those were used in both?"
>"The one you've got is a Gewehr 98 from the First World War, a shorter version was used in the Second, as I said, it's really well preserved"
>as we drive parallel to the stream, Greg lectures me about the guns of both World Wars and answers any question I can come up with
>just two days ago this would have bored me to death, but now I find it pretty interesting
>after the wars he explains basic gun safety "So I don't have to do this while yelling at you for muzzle swiping me or something like that"
>by far the longest and best conversation we've had so far
>the road moves away from the stream, and after a while passes a large clearing
>Greg stops the car and steps outside
>"This looks like a good place for shooting"
>he sets up pieces of old bark on tree stumps as targets, then explains the Gewehr 98
>turns out the middle position of the safety is still safe since you can't fire, only cycle
>"How would you aim with this thing blocking your view? That would be a stupid design"
>yeah, I could have thought of that
>the metal things holding five rounds are called stripper clips and are for quicker loading
>after all that theory I'm finally ready to shoot
>it's a lot different from the experience with the AK, less tunnel vision, and I'm more or less consistently hitting the targets after a while
>move away from them further and further to make it more challenging
>also get to try handguns and the AK, this time on semi
>we collect the brass after we're done shooting, because Greg knows a guy with a reloading press
>just as I get the last of the 8mm casings, I hear a car engine
>wait, there are no cars here besides Gregs pickup
>and the engine sounds familiar
>oh fuck

>"I'll rip your fucking heads off and shit down your throats, you thieving niggers!" I hear Greg yell further along the road
>we meet at the spot where the truck stood, with him still mumbling curses under his breath
>interrupts his tirade to inspect the ground
>"Here, these footprints are fresh"
>too small for an adult human, by the looks of it there are three pairs
>"Maybe a bunch of Halfling teenagers playing a prank on us?"
>"Could be, I didn't see them either, that would be the easier option"
>"What else could it be?"
>"Goblins. The size would also match those little green shits"
>never had any interactions with a Goblin, but so I've only heard bad things about them
>"Well, if it turns out those are Greenskins, you can practice with moving targets"
>his facial expression is completely serious, that wasn't meant as a joke
>fuck, I don't want to shoot anyone if I don't have to
>"Maybe we could just scare them away or negotiate if we catch up with them"
>"I'm not talking to green niggers, once we catch it's either us or them"
>at least we have our guns with us
>we stash the bag with our empty brass inside of a hollow tree trunk and begin following the tracks
>the tracks follow the road up to the village, we reach it around nightfall
>some of the locals seem to recognize us and we get approached by a Halfling wearing what looks like a knockoff police officer cap
>"Well well well, if it isn't the tall folks with that car, hit a tree or something?" he snarks
>what's this guys problem?
>"Here to apologize to Mrs. Biddel? You should be, after nearly running over the poor old lady, almost scared her to death"
>Greg fills him in on the situation
>"So, any Goblins sightings in the area, or are any local troublemakers missing, a group of three maybe?"
>"We haven't seen any Goblins around here in 15 years, but now that you mention it" the Hobbit cop pauses and adjusts his cap
>"Those damn rascals took off into the woods this morning, looking like they were up to something"

>after spending the night in the village once more, we get up before dawn next morning to follow the tracks
>the Halfling sheriff who introduced himself as Osberd is coming with us
>we meet him in front of his office, sitting on a bench and smoking a pipe
>next to the bench leans a Halfling sized lever action rifle
>both the pipe and wooden rifle stock are decorated with intricate carvings
>they really like their woodworking here
>"It's about time, you've kept me waiting"
>the fucking sun isn't even up yet and you're waiting?
>aside from the pipe he really is the polar opposite of Bilbo Baggins
>he picks up the rifle and puts on his police hat
>while we're walking along the road Osberd briefs us on our alleged car thieves
>three young boys, notorious in the village and beyond for their pranks
>"Stealing something as big as your car seems extreme for them, this not one of their ordinary escapades"
>pauses and pokes around in his pipe
>"They had crazy ideas about leaving the village and going on adventures, but stealing for that dream? I am disappointed"
>after that he recounts how many times he caught the gang and threw them in a cell for the night
>you got to admire the creativity of those guys
>"And then, after they managed to break the lock of the cell while I was sleeping they poured beans into my hat"
>Greg starts laughing, that lands him a kick to the shin
>at some point the road follows the river in a turn to the right, the track diverges and goes straight to the west, into the woods
>Osberd seems to be unhappy about this, when asked he only replies "had hoped they would stop in the next village downstream"
>not sure if that is all though
>instead of telling more stories about the pranksters and drunks he has to deal with, he goes quiet and smokes even more pipe
>where does he even keep all of this pipe weed?

>after a while of walking without anyone speaking a word, Greg breaks the silence
>"So, why didn't you just build your telescope next to the portal?"
>right, we never talked about the more technical nerd shit
>"The air around them is more turbulent, and they somehow mess with AO"
>"What is an AO?"
>oh boy, you're in for a treat
>spend the next 45 minutes lecturing him about adaptive optics
>in short, those are systems looking at how turbulence in the atmosphere warps laser dots shone at the sky
>based on those observations, the main mirror of the telescope is bent, correcting for air movement
>all in real time, with computer calculations
>yes, they are indeed fucking expensive
>and without such a system, you might as well use some amateur equipment next to a portal
>but since Greg just set my autism in motion, he doesn't get the short version
>Osberd is still in thoughts, my ramblings about the wonders of modern astronomy don't get through to him
>"These Zernike polynomials look cool when you visualize them on a computer"
>might have gone to far with the nerd shit
>"All of that because of a bit of turbulence? I've been drinking with two dudes who flew a MiG through a portal, they never even mentioned that"
>I don't really have an answer to that, maybe the turbulence happens higher up in the atmosphere
>also, what sort of a mad lad looks at a portal and thinks "I'm gonna fly a fighter jet through that thing"?
>we continue hiking through the woods for a while before making camp
>Osberd manages to shoot a big rabbit for us to cook over the fire
>I try my best to help field dress carcass since I never did anything like that before
>with the trees in the way, the car travels slower than on the road, so we have a good chance of reaching them
>at least that's our hope
>we eat our grilled rabbit with some bread from the village and go to sleep

>wake up first because my back hurts
>turns out there was a little root where I slept
>I've been camping before, but lying on the bare ground under the stars without things like a sleeping back or a tent is new to me
>after some much needed stretching I go and gather some wood for the fire
>walk parallel to a small creek as a help for orientation
>freeze as I hear a strange sound
>doesn't sound like any animal I've ever heard
>a long, continuous tone that slowly dies down
>somehow, my curiosity wins over the part of me that wants to run away as fast as I can
>move towards where the sound was coming from
>feel a gust of wind while slowly climbing up the escarpment
>with the breeze comes the strange noise, almost perfectly simultaneous
>fuck, this is getting spooky
>gather up my courage and climb up the rest
>in front of me is a giant tree standing, at least two meters in diameter
>seems to be an oak, judging by the shape of the leafs
>the thick branches have an impressive span and create a natural dome
>feel the wind once more while looking up the tree, with it comes the strange noise again
>that's where the sound is coming from
>the branches of the tree are filled with wind chimes, carved figurines and colored pieces of fabric
>most of the chimes and small statues seem to be made from wood, some others look like they were carved from a bone
>around the tree is a little clearing, its edges lined with large rocks
>go around the tree
>on the other side is a small stone altar with a plain clay pot and tools made from flint on top of it
>after thinking about it for a while, I dare to open the pot
>in it are small white crystals that look like coarse salt
>put a tiny bit on my finger to taste
>yes, definitely salt
>all of those chimes and artworks in the tree, yet the stuff on the altar is simple and pragmatic
>who puts household items in the central spot of a place that looks like it is holy, made for worship?

>head back to the campsite after admiring the giant oak a little longer
>while the Halflings we've come across in these woods also do a lot of carvings, the ones in the tree have a different style
>where they made with stone tools similar to the knives I found on the altar?
>find Osberd up and already blowing smoke rings with his pipe at the camp
>tell him about the site with the tree while building a fire
>"You saw one? I've only heard stories about them"
>"So there are more? Who is putting all the stuff there?"
>"Short answer is that there are people in this forest living the old way, without permanent houses, roads and all of that"
>he pauses to put more wood on the fire and starts to cook water in a beat up metal teapot
>"All the settlements on the river and deeper into the woods along the roads are less then 150 years old"
>Greg also got up in the meantime, after the obligatory "Mornin'", Osberd continues
>"The Forest People were here long before, they are Halflings like us, but their way of life is totally different"
>"So we have to be on the lookout for Hobbit-Grug trying to attack us?" Greg asks
>"I don't think so, they are peaceful. But we're at the foot of a mountain that is somewhat holy to them"
>"Does that mean they're gonna stop us from going there?"
>"They don't go up there themselves, the Singing Trees mark the border. I have no idea what's beyond them"
>we finish our breakfast in awkward silence after the history lecture, then head off, following the car tracks
>cross the creek from earlier further downstream from where I found the tree
>after a while I can hear that sound again
>I guess we've officially crossed the boarder of the holy mountain now
>our path is getting steeper, and everyone seems to be a bit paranoid
>Osberd even stopped smoking
>can't shake off the feeling that I'm being watched

>the tracks of the car continue to lead up
>our thieves aren't headed for the summit, they're just crossing the mountain on its flank instead of driving around
>you can clearly see that the thick brush has given them trouble navigating
>which means we're getting closer
>all of a sudden the tracks end
>no truck, no Halfling youngster, no more tire tracks, as if the car just vanished into thin air
>Osberd and Greg are equally dumbfounded
>"Maybe they have erased their tracks to shake off anyone pursuing them"
>sometimes I just can't keep my wishful thinking to myself
>there is no sign of them doing anything like that, first it's tire, then completely undisturbed soil
>since no one has anything better to suggest, we agree on splitting up and searching the surrounding area for clues
>keep looking for gaps between trees big enough for the pickup truck to fit through
>still nothing to be seen, no tire tracks, no hidden campsite, not even any snapped branches
>still feel like I'm being watched
>alright, there is nothing here, better head back, talk to the others, maybe take another path, or rethink our strategy
>try to figure out where I came from
>can't find the path between I came from
>come on, think, you followed gaps in trees large enough for the car
>look around, estimating the distances between trees
>none of the gaps is sufficient for a pickup truck to get through
>weird, I made sure to follow a potential path for the car
>alright, footsteps are a thing, just follow those
>the ground is covered in dark soil, my tracks are perfectly clear
>follow them a bit, after a while they end
>just like the tracks left by the car
>look around again, none of the trees look familiar, as if I never came through
>getting more and more spooked
>the gaps between the trees seem to be smaller, and the brush thicker then before
>after a few minutes of trying to figure out a way back, I swallow my pride and yell
>"GREG, OSBERD, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"
>no answer
>shout again, same result

>force myself to sit down on a fallen tree and try to calm down
>analyzing my situtation doesn't really make me feel any better
>I'm in the middle of a forest that everyone avoids
>all I have with me are the clothes I'm wearing, a bottle of water (half empty), a knife, and my G98 with 30 rounds of ammo
>that would probably be enough for someone skilled at outdoors survival, but I have my doubts that it's sufficient for me
>what else?
>have had the feeling of being watched since passing the second Singing Tree
>and someone, or something, is somehow erasing tire tracks and my footprints
>is there an entity that put me into this situation deliberately? If so, what does it want?
>I guess it doesn't just want to eat me, because opportunities where plenty already
>"What do you want from me?" I ask out loud
>no answer, what did I even expect?
>guess I should find something to eat, either by finding some edible plants or by hunting
>hoo hooo
>the fuck was that?
>turn aroud, behind me is a big owl
>looks like an eagle owl
>just stare at the bird for a while, it stares back directly at me the whole time
>whatever, I've got shit to do
>start walking in the direction opposite to where the owl sits
>HOO HOOO
>why is it getting louder?
>turn back around and look at it again
>the owl spreads its wings and takes off, only to land on a branch a few meters behind its original position
>"Do you want me to follow you?"
>hoo HOOO!
>"Alright, its not like I've had any preferred direction"
>follow the owl
>so this is my life now
>I left home as a sane and respectable young scientist
>and here I am now, dirty, in torn rags, with a gun on my back, talking to a fucking bird

>while I lost all orientation a while ago, the owl certainly isn't leading me back
>instead, we're going up the mountain
>when thinking about it, the summit is the one location that's easy to find, you just go up until you're there
>maybe Greg and Osberd got the same idea
>or birds to lead them, whatever
>"My water bottle is empty, are there any good spots to refill it around here?"
>I feel very stupid asking that question to an owl
>but if it actually leads me to a water source, that would confirm my hypothesis of it being sentient and understanding me
>hoo hooo
>it really changes directions
>we're no longer going up
>after about 10 minutes we arrive at a small creek
>follow 50 meters upstream
>from a small overgrown rock formation originates a spring
>the owl is sitting on top of the boulders
>"And that water is clean?"
>hoo HOOO
>"If I get the shits after all of this I blame you"
>the water from the spring is cold and refreshing
>also tastes great
>drink until my thirst is quenched and fill my bottle
>"Are there edible plants in this forest? I was thinking about turning this into a lunch break"
>the owl hoots and flies off
>follow the direction it took, after a minute I arrive at a clearing

>on the opposite site of the clearing are blackberry bushes
>notice that in the center, there are strawberries, and bushy greens that look like the plant parts of carrots
>pull one out, it actually looks like some sort of root vegetable
>collect some of the roots and go back to the spring to wash them
>bite into one
>the texture is similar to a carrot, but the taste is more like celery
>got enough for a meal, after that I go back to the clearing for desert
>the density of edible plants on this clearing is most likely not natural
>have I just plundered some forest hermits garden?
>on the other hand, there are no footprints or other signs of human activity except my own
>you would think that a place like this requires at least some degree of maintenance
>while I'm here I pack in more of the roots as provision
>continue following the owl up the mountain
>the part where I am right now is not very steep, but the ground here is wet, almost marshy
>I'm slower than usual because of this, the owl waits a bit ahead on a fallen tree
>with the next step my foot sinks in deeper than expected, almost fall over
>in the corner of my eye I can see some blurry movement where the owl is sitting
>turn back around to look
>something hit the bird, it now lies on the ground
>looks like it got caught in a net
>since the owl was just sitting there it probably wasn't a trap
>someone must have thrown this
>grab my rifle and flick the safety off
>someone, or something, starts to shout
>"WAAAGH!"

>from behind a tree jumps an Orc
>he is wearing tribal looking clothes and has something that looks like a large battle axe in his belt
>in his hand is the a piece of cordage, running to the owl
>that must be the one who threw the net
>I'm not gonna let some green skinned fucker hurt my bird friend
>before I can even think anything through I have brought my rifle to my shoulder and taken aim
>BOOM
>my ears are ringing from the shot
>fuck, missed
>I mean, totally intended as a warning shot, who would miss on such a short distance, am I right?
>the Orc drops the rope attached to the net
>did I scare him off?
>nope
>instead of turning around and running to the treeline, he pulls up his axe and runs towards me
>"WAAAGH"
>fire two more consecutive shots at the charging Orc
>these both hit him in the torso, and he drops
>chamber a new round, just in case, and run towards the owl as fast as the marshy ground allows
>its left wings is bent to an angle it probably shouldn't be in
>the net is made from crude yet strong looking cordage
>it is weight down with smooth, pitch black pebble locking stones
>hollow pieces of bone with weird symbols on them are woven into it
>entangle the owl, my fingers feel tingly as I touch the net
>the wing appears to be broken
>seat the owl on my shoulder and walk over to the Orcs body

>approach with caution, but he appears to be dead
>no sound, no visible breathing
>he is lying face down in the mud
>force myself to turn him over
>one of my shots hit him around the stomach, the other one in the chest
>around his neck are five or six amulets, bone pieces and those shiny black rocks on leather cords
>on the Orcs forehead is an oval tattoo, resembling an eye
>now that the adrenaline rush wears off and I have the dead Orcs face right in front of me, I start to feel like shit
>never shot at anything alive before, only tree stumps
>and while Orcs get their reputation of being brutes for a reason, they're not mindless animals
>was it really necessary to shot to kill? Was there no better way to solve this situation?
>"no, no, stop thinking over shit like that, he charged you with a battle axe, he broke the owls wing"
>keep rationalizing it, but the strange, numb feeling doesn't go away
>collect my three brass casings and reload rifle, after that I go and take the net
>maybe I can find out more about this attacker
>the owl has silently been sitting on my shoulder this whole time
>have to figure out what to do about the broken wing as well
>it's just hanging down right now
>start up the mountain again
>soon the marshy ground becomes solid again, and the forest thicker
>before making camp for the night I want some distance to the spot where the Orc attacked
>after an hour I find a nice spot
>sit the owl down on a low branch
>"Don't get jumped by greenskins while I get firewood, ok?"
>hoo hooo

>after coming back from firewood gathering I start a small fire
>try to roast one of the root vegetables over it
>tastes decent, but it isn't that big of an improvement over the raw version
>the owls wing looks better for some reason, it's in a more natural position now
>"Want some?", I offer the bird some roasted root
>actually eats a small piece, I'm not sure if this is healthy for birds of prey
>probably not, but I don't have any meat, so this will have to do
>the sun has already set, now more and more stars come out
>we're on a little clearing, so I have a good view of them
>hopefully the Halfling thieves haven't done anything to the small telescope that was is the car
>the incident with the Orc keeps crossing my mind
>I can rationalize it as much as I want, still feels bad
>start talking to the owl to keep my mind distracted
>since it led me to the spring and the patch with the roots and berries it can understand me, right?
>point to stars and start explaining stuff about them
>do owls even give a fuck about stars?
>maybe this one does
>at some point I doze off
>wake up next morning at dawn
>look around
>the owl is gone
>where did it go, is there another weird Orc?
>hoo hooo
>that came from above, look up
>it is sitting on a branch higher up in the tree
>feel relieved, but how did it get there with a broken wing?
>I mean, this is no normal owl, maybe it can regenerate unnaturally fast?

>after a quick breakfast we're on our way
>notice that the owl can fly again, but the movement of the wings is a bit clunky
>on a steeper hill side I can look down the mountain
>forest as far as the eye can see, and it shouldn't take long from now to reach the summit
>an hour later the terrain becomes more flat
>some of the trees here are huge, similar in size to the one with the altar and the wind chimes
>a few are even larger
>between the trees are large spaces, and a good bit of sunlight makes it through the leafs above
>on the ground grow all sorts of flowers, but also berry bushes and those roots I ate yesterday
>the tree I'm walking towards now is almost twice the size of the rest
>someone comes walking from behind the tree
>it's a relatively tall woman with a light green skin tone
>definitely not an Orc or anything like that though, her face looks more similar to an elf or human
>instead of normal clothes she is 'wearing' vines and leafs over her body
>I've heard accounts of beings resembling mythological Dryads on this side of the portals
>she starts talking with a soft, deep voice
>"One more intruder, we're having a busy week here"
>tell me about it
>good thing I didn't say that out loud
>everything about her really conveys authority
>I wouldn't be surprised if she is the reason the forest people worship this mountain
>now she addresses me directly
>"What brings you to this place?"
>Grand Theft Auto: Hobbiton
>"In all details, please"
>fuck, can she read minds?
>start telling my story
>beginning with my departure, covering the search for Max, the giant scorpions and the hunt for the stolen car
>"And after we were separated in these woods, I was lead here by the owl. On the way we got attacked by an Orc..."
>pause and get the strange net out
>"...who had this with him"
>the Dryad flinches at the sight of the net

>my fingers are tingling from the net again
>slowly put it down on the ground and take a step back, no sudden movements
>that seems like a good way to signal that I mean no harm
>if this thing startles a supposed forest goddess, I should probably not wave it around
>"Do you know what you have there?", she asks
>"Not really, I figured that all of those bone ornaments might give someone who knows more about Orcs a clue"
>she circles around me, while keeping a distance from the net
>"It was made to counteract any magic in whatever it catches, making it a potent weapon against my kind"
>that explains why she flinched at the sight
>"Some tribes of Orc have champions specialize in hunting beings endowed with special magic powers", she continues
>"It has been three hundred years since such warriors came to our mountain the last time"
>is that connected to the meaning of this 'third eye' tattoo?
>"They are capable of sensing magic usage and equiped with protective wards"
>is that what those amulets were?
>maybe I should have taken some of those
>then again, maybe the Dryad would have never allowed me to come here with something like that on me
>so a bunch of mage hunting greeskins are after her, and there might be more Dryads since she keeps using the plural
>either that or she just talks like old-timey royalty
>"You, your friend and the Halflings will be allowed to leave this mountain, under one condition"
>so that's why I'm here
>"We have to take care of those Orcs first, don't we?"
>"Correct, with all their proficiency against our abilities, they are easily defeated by your weapons"
>'easily'?
>the first time I ever fired a gun was just a few days ago, and now I am supposed to play mercenary for a forest witch?
>"Have you briefed the others about this?"
>"Your friend would shoot first and ask questions later, and the old Halfling is an outsider to your group, so I chose to speak with you"

>so not only do I have to hunt Orc hunters, I am in charge of the operation
>what do I even do?
>how many are out there, and how do I find them before they find me?
>fuck, I am in no way qualified for this sort of job
>think, think god dammit
>I'll have to get some info first
>"Do you know how many there are?"
>"A band of five invaded our mountain initially, with one killed that leaves four of them"
>that's not to bad, I had mentally prepared myself for her to say ten
>still, four potentially lethal encounters, not really something I am too good at
>coming to think of it, why did the Orc attack me yesterday? Did he stumble across me by chance and wanted the gun?
>guess I'll have to ask
>"How are we supposed to find the Orcs? We can't just take hikes and wait for them to find us"
>"I'll draw their attention, like last time" a voice behind me answers
>it is also a feminine voice, but a bit higher pitched and younger sounding
>turn around, behind me is another dryad
>her hair is shorter, and she is wearing normal clothes instead of vines and leafs
>wait a minute
>those are an exact copy of my clothes, down to individual cuts and torn pieces of fabric, but resized to fit her body
>just stand there trying to process why she is wearing 'my' clothes and why she is volunteering to be the bait
>again
>again?
>upon picking up my confused look, she just smirks
>"Hoo hooo"

>that does not sound like an imitation someone would make of an owl
>it completely indistinguishable from the birdcall
>my face must look even dumber now
>"We can shapeshift into all kinds of forest animals, I just happen to like that form"
>that would explain the magic owl, although I still find it hard to process
>"Your name is Anon, right?"
>"Uh, yeah"
>"I'm Alea, nice to meet you, in person I mean"
>takes me way too long to reply with "Nice to meet you too"
>this whole situation still has me lost in thought
>while we were talking the other Dryad has vanished
>"So, what happens next?"
>"Your two friends are about three hours away from here, let's meet up with them"
>they were probably under observation the whole time, considering how territorial those Dryads are
>Alea leads me along a path down the mountainside
>while we're walking she starts to explain a few things
>the vanishing tracks, the changing arrangement of the plants, all the Dryads work
>Greg and Osberd were separated as well, but reunited about the time I spoke to the Mother Dryad
>she also explains why the Orc found us yesterday
>"You probably thought I just lead you to a vegetable garden, but I actually grew all of that on the spot"
>it was the plant magic that attracted the greenskin
>after those explanations from her she starts asking me all sorts of questions about Earth and Human life
>"I can't imagine living in a such a city, must be horrible"
>"Some are, the one where I lived is nice though, with a big park along the river and forested mountains around it"
>continue explaining the concepts of universities, computers, electricity and paper money as good as I can
>after a while I can see smoke in further down the mountain

>Greg and Osberd are sitting at large campfire with their backs towards us
>they are smoking strips of meat
>that's a lot of meat
>must be from a larger animal than the rabbit we had a couple days ago
>maybe a deer
>hear them talking as we get closer
>"He would go up the mountain, that's where our chances of finding him are the best"
>"But the gunshots I heard where further to the west, we should look there first"
>"Even if that was him, he'll be gone once we get there"
>step closer with Alea behind me
>"Cancel the search, here I am"
>both turn around with surprised looks on their faces
>they turn more concerned upon noticing Alea
>we sit down next to them and I start explaining everything from getting lost to the whole Dryad situation
>"So we're supposed to play exterminator for a bunch of forest witches?" Greg asks
>Alea face turn to an angry expression
>"Their boss didn't even show you the car, how do you know we're not getting played here?"
>"Mother wouldn't lie, we really have you damn car" Alea bursts out
>the two go back and forth like that for a bit
>how the fuck do I diffuse this?
>"Once we have those anti-magic nets, the Dryads would be stupid to double cross us, they will keep their end of the deal"
>that seems to convince Greg for now
>Osberd seems to trust her more and only asks about the car thieves
>Alea ensures him that they're alive and well, and that once we're done with the job they can leave with us
>"I'm not letting those little assholes near my car again, they can walk back home"
>now that both of them are more or less on board, we start making plans for tomorrow

>"We can't monitor them closely because they would sense us, but we usually keep track of the area they are in"
>that's weird
>"So how did we get ambushed?"
>"One of my sisters oversees this part of the forest, since she didn't warn me she might be in trouble"
>"How many Orcs do you still have on your radar?"
>"My what?"
>oh, I skipped that part in Earth 101
>"How many do you know the rough location of, so we know the number of enemies in our blind spot"
>"Two. So there are still another two in the area"
>Greg brings up a theory
>"They probably have your sister captured and set up a defensive perimeter by now, since they must have heard the shots"
>sounds reasonable to me, they had enough time and still haven't left, so that might be it
>we derive a plan based on this assumption:
>first, find the camp
>then Alea will try to draw them out by performing some magic further away from the camp
>either both will leave, giving us time to free the Dryad uncontested and then fight the Orcs out in the open
>or one will venture out while the other one stays at the camp, allowing us the pick them apart one by one
>either way, we can use our numerical advantage and their boner for magic against them
>"Remember, no battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy, they could decide not to take the bait" Greg warns
>or our basic assumptions could just be wrong
>anyways, with the limited information we have this seems to be a good start
>once we have found the Orcs we might be able to judge the situation better
>after planning we eat some of the meat together with the rest of the vegetables I was still carrying

>Alea sits a further away from the camp
>she has been more quiet since the planning phase
>walk over and sit down next to her
>"Don't worry, we'll do what we can to help your sister"
>she nods, then asks "When you said that about the nets, did you mean it? Would you use those to fight us?"
>shit, so it's not about her sister, it's about my phrasing when I tried to convince Greg
>"I trust you, but I can't force the others to do so. They need to see a way to succeed so they can stay motivated"
>that sounded a lot more manipulative than I meant it
>still, Aleas face lightens up
>"We should get some sleep, tomorrow will be rough"
>do Dryads even sleep?
>Alea just nods, I'll take that as a yes
>next morning we all get up at dawn and quietly eat breakfast
>start our hike towards the west shortly after
>after two hours we arrive at a deep ravine
>"The area with the Orcs begins on the other side, there is a fallen tree where we can cross nearby"
>we decide pause and have another meal before crossing
>while we're eating Alea describes the geography of the area ahead
>the blind spot of the 'Dryad radar' begins at this ravine in the east
>towards the middle we'll go downhill and enter the swamp where the first Orc attacked Alea and me
>across the swamp a small river marks the western border of this area
>since the western river provides the best access to fresh water, we'll start searching for a camp there first
>after resting for about twenty minutes we walk a bit uphill until we find the fallen tree
>it is, or was, a huge oak, that must have been struck by lightning
>"Normally I would just make a bridge, but since that could attract enemies this will have to do" Alea remarks apologetically
>we all cross the tree carefully, going one at a time
>now we're in enemy land

>even though there was little chatter today so far, our group has gotten even more silent by now
>communication is reduced to hand signs and whispered half sentences
>we walk downhill for about an hour like this
>notice how the ground first gets less rocky, and then goes to marshy
>we've reached the swamp
>Alea is walking in front, the rest of us follow in a line
>we exit the forest, ahead lies an open, boggy area
>pretty sure that's where I killed the first Orc
>after a short walk through the mud Alea hold up her hand, signalling us to stop
>about five meters ahead of us is a red stain on the swamp grass
>look around, the surrounding checks out
>we left the body of the Orc here, but it was removed
>Greg and Osberd understand upon me pointing to the blood stain
>everyone looks around for tracks, but there aren't any
>I assume the Dryads probably had nothing to do with this
>if the body was eaten by scavengers there would be signs of that
>the only explanation would then be that the other two Orcs retrieved the body and covered their tracks
>we search the surrounding area
>see Osberd signalling that he found something
>looks like the greenskins got sloppy after reaching the tree line
>check my compass, the footprints are going west, indicating that they're based at the river
>as the ground goes back to more rocks, it gets harder to follow the trail
>after a while I can hear running water
>we must be close to the river
>Alea decides to climb a large tree to see if she can see anything
>transforming into her owl form would be to risky
>"There's a fire further downstream, must be them"
>take a minute or two to check on our gear, then we head toward the Orc camp

>on a clearing near the river bank are two shelters made from branches and small tree trunks next to a large camp fire
>both Orcs can be seen from our position
>one is sitting at the fire, the other one is kneeling further away, gutting fishes
>Greg taps me on the shoulder
>"Screw complicated plans, we can shoot them from here and be done with them"
>he has a point
>I thought they'd be more allert and we wouldn't even get such an opportunity
>look over to Osberd and Alea
>both nod
>"You and Osberd take care of the one on the right, I shoot the left one" Greg suggests
>raise my rifle and take aim
>the Orc reaches for a new fish
>feels kinda wrong
>last time was self defense, but now I'm the aggressor
>my moral concerns get suddenly interrupted by the noise of rustling leaves
>instinctively roll to the side
>see the blade of an axe come down where my torso was less than a second ago
>try to point my rifle at whoever was swinging that axe
>another Orc, with tattoos similar to the one I shot two days ago
>he's too close
>kicks the rifle before I can aim at him
>evade a sencond kick, get on my feet and pick the rifle back up
>the Orc takes another swing with his axe
>this time I'm not fast enough
>feel a sharp pain in my upper left arm
>his blade made a deep cut there
>two gunshots make my ears ring and the Orc drops

>before I can catch my breath, two more Orcs come running at us from behind
>aim at one of the charging enemies and fire
>hit him right in the chest
>good
>I probably wouldn't have been able to fire a quick second shot with my arm like this
>the third attacker throws a spear
>a split second later a burst from Gregs AK drops him
>look to the side
>Osberd got hit by spear, it has pierced his left leg
>see a movement in the corner of my eye
>the fisherman Orc is swinging his large machete-like knife at me
>instinctively raise the rifle to parry
>manage to stop the knife, but that doesn't stop the Orc
>he swings his left fist at my face
>my left cheeck feels like it's exploding
>everything goes dark for a moment
>the Orc knocked me down on the ground and got his knife back, it was stuck in my rifles handguard
>now he is swinging at Alea, who can so far still evade him
>in my adrenaline fueled rage I get back up and launch myself at him
>my fist hits his jaw, but he doesn't go down that easy
>he tries to stab me, but I manage to evade and grapple his arm
>at least the punch disoriented him a little
>with me still holding his knife-arm, I turn the blade towards him and tackle him to the ground
>the knife slides into the Orcs stomach

>takes me what what feels like an eternity to get up
>hear more AK fire
>sounds more distant than it actually is
>turn around and see Greg firing at the fifth Orc
>this one is different
>despite being hit multiple times, he doesn't go down
>but he is also not running like the other ones, instead he is walking at a rather slow pace
>my eyes widen as I recognize him
>that's the one I shot two days ago
>they all have similar tattoos, but all of them are unique
>as he gets closer I can see the two wounds on his torso
>exactly where I hit him back then
>one of Gregs shots hits him in his face, slightly below one eye
>the left side of his head deforms from the impact, but he keeps walking
>look towards Alea
>she extents both her arms and closes her eyes
>look back at the Orc
>a vine shoots up one of his legs
>he makes a clunky step forward which snaps the plant, but while he does that a second one grows winds along his other leg
>as he falls down face first, I can see more plants encompassing his body
>Greg, Alea and I walk towards the last Orc
>his body is filled with bullet holes, he bleeds from none of them
>as we get closer, he begins to jerk around, trying to rip the plants holding him
>Alea puts her hand on his back and mutters something I can't understand
>the movement in the Orcs body suddenly stops
>after that she runs over to Osberd
>he is lying on the ground, with a pale face, but still breathing
>around the wounded leg is a fuckton of blood
>"You can heal him with your magic, right?" Greg ask Alea
>"I can hopefully stop the bleeding, everything else is on him"

>we help Alea remove the spear before she puts her hand over the wound and starts casting her spell
>her palm emitts a light green shimmer
>spit out the blood that has accumulated in my mouth
>at least no teeth come out with it
>Greg and I check on the fallen Orcs to make sure they're really dead
>"This is the one you killed earlier, right?" Greg asks as he points to the last one
>"Yeah, same tattoos, and he still has the wounds from my gunshots"
>"So that should be it, all five instead of just the two we were expecting"
>I hope so
>Alea walks over to us with a faint smile on her face
>"I stopped the bleeding, he should be able to survive this"
>the three of us walk towards the Orc camp
>inside one of the shelters we find four Dryads
>at first they flinch, but as soon as they see Alea their faces lighten up
>all of them have their hands and legs bound with rope that has the same strange beads as the anti-magic nets
>they have cuts and bruises all over their bodies, and one of them has her right arm cut off at the ellbow
>we quickly untie them, while Greg and I look around the rest of the camp Alea is talking to the other Dryads
>now that the adrenaline slowly wears off my arm starts to hurt
>the sleave of my shirt is soaked with blood
>sit down and lean on a tree
>Alea comes over and starts healing my arm
>"How is the one who got her arm cut off?"
>"With time, it will regenerate"
>"Why did they even cut it off?"
>"It seems they used it for the ritual that raised the one we fought earlier"
>if this is what tribal Orc blood magic can do with an arm, what can it do with a whole Dryad sacrificed?
>in a twisted way it really makes sense that these hunters are after them
>after my arm is healed, Greg and I break down one of the shelters to build a stretcher for Osberd

>the four Dryads briefly thank us, but then they wander off
>Alea explains that they can regenerate better once they're back at their respective trees
>we use the fire of the Orc camp to burn the bodies, after that we go a bit upstream to make a camp of our own
>that place was really giving me the creeps, none of us wanted to spend the night over there
>I took the knife of the Orc I fought hand to hand for myself
>while most of their stuff looks primitive, they really put work into their knifes
>guess that makes sense when hunting has spiritual value attached to it
>now that she can safely use her magic again, Alea is happy to show off a bit
>she makes some young trees and vines grow into a large hut
>outside of our shelter for the night she creates little garden with berries and vegetables
>among the plants are some aromatics and herbs we can use to make a nice victory stew
>Osberd has regained consciousness and eats with us
>now that we fought together the other two have warmed up to Alea
>Greg didn't even collect any anti-magic nets
>at some the unavoidable question is brought up by Osberd
>"So, how will tomorrow play out?"
>that immediately changes the lighthearted atmosphere, but someone had to ask at some point
>"I'll lead you to the place where we keep the car and the three thieves, walking there will take about four hours"
>everyone goes to sleep shortly after
>next morning we eat the leftovers as breakfast with some herbal tea on the side
>Alea uses her plant magic to make crutches for Osberd
>"Just say the word when you can't walk anymore and we'll carry you the rest of the way"
>"I'd rather crawl there on all fours"
>stubborn old Hobbit
>he gets a little healing magic session, then we're on our way

>about four hours of going mostly downhill later we arrive at a weird structure
>it's a thorny hedge, thich enough to block any view of what's inside, and about three meters tall
>Alea stops in front of it
>"Inside are the three Halflings and car, I will create an opening large enough to drive through"
>she looks sad as she says this
>"We're all grateful for what you've done, and you're always welcome here as friends from now on"
>"I have to do checks on a bunch of weather stations every now and then, this mountain is on route for most of them"
>her eyes light up as the hears this
>she holds her right arm up at the hedge, and a large gate forms
>one the other side it we can see three young Halflings with their eyes wide open in disbelieve
>they seem visibly happy to see Osberd and shout "Sheriff, you're here to save us"
>Osberd limps up to them without saying a word
>then, he starts beating them with his crutches and yells
>"How many times have locked you in for the night because of some petty theft, but this shoots the bird you little shits!"
>this goes on for a couple minutes, after which the bruised thieves deliver a long apology to Greg
>our story, specifically the part about Osberds injury really gets to them and makes them feel bad for what they've done
>Greg and I check on the car
>it's not damaged or anything, just a bit dirty from all the off-road driving
>turn to Osberd
>"Are you coming with us?"
>"No, I'll walk with these three"
>"You want to walk all the way back with you leg like this"
>"If it gives out one the way, they'll have to carry me, isn't that right you little shits?"
>ashamed nodding
>"Make sure to stop by on your way to those weather stations"
>Greg and I say goodbye to Osberd and Alea, then we drive off

>three days later we arrive at our destination
>now we're in the high mountains, a valley leading up to a mountain pass to be exact
>first we pass through a village, down by the river, then we drive up the mountain side
>about ten minutes later we stop in front of a log cabin with a domed structure and a big antenna next to it
>the cabin will be my home from now on, the dome houses the telescope
>a few thick cables lead away from the house, down a slope towards a small stream
>electricity for the observatory is generated via a water wheel, said water wheel is blocked by a fallen tree branch
>after clearing it out, the power back at the cabin works as it should
>inside I find canned tomatoes and spaghetti
>make a nice tomato sauce with some of the garlic, onions and herbs I packed in the Dryad forest
>"So, how are you gonna continue from here?"
>"I'll write a long report, send it, after that I can play with the telescope, you?"
>"A few of my friends are fighting in a Halflings vs Dark Elves war further south, I was planning to join up with them"
>back when I started the journey I was eager to go back to work
>but now, a part of me wants to leave, take the rifle and get into the next fight
>not that I'm actually going to do that right now, but maybe someday in the future
>after eating we unload the rest of my stuff from the car
>Greg fills up his water reserves at the creek, after that he prepares to leave
>"At first I thought you were a lost cause, but now you make a decent /k/ommando, see ya"
>with these words he drives off
>well, time for me to write my report
>actually
>fuck that
>I'll set up a shooting range behind the cabin first