I awoke to a strange urge to leap from my resting place high in the branches; an idea nestled neatly into my skull that definitely wasn’t mine.

Thankfully, I cut that shit off at the root.

It was better than coffee for getting the old engine started; nothing sends you from 0 to 100 quite as fast as realizing you’re about to jump 10 meters down to the ground, even if you do have a safety line.

While I was busy trying to catch my breath, a voice with no apparent source asked me a concerning question.

“What are you?”

My eyes darted about trying to locate the source of the sound before I realized it was in my head. In my frantic search I noticed another pressing concern; a large white wolf sitting on its haunches and staring up at me from the ground below, head tilted inquisitively.

“... What?”

“I asked you a question, What are you? I took you for one of the beasts of my court, but obviously you are not, seeing as you resisted my command.”

The wolf was talking to me, in my head. I spared a second to hope that it wasn’t some hallucination caused by my infection before I answered.

“I’m... a human?”

There was a distinct minute of silence as the wolf seemed to process this; it tilted his head to the other side while considering it’s response.

“I’m impressed, from the blood I smell I can tell you’ve killed a member of The Court of Beasts and a potent one at that."

"Come down from your perch and join me, as the prince of beasts I wish to reward your power and bravery.”

I took a moment to stare at the wolf; immense, visibly muscular, fanged, and... drooling.

It was hard to keep a straight face, this was possibly the worst ‘Aesop’s Fables’ level bullshit I’d heard in my life.

He’s got to think I’m stupid or something.

“Yeah… not likely Balto, you’re half a ton of predatory muscle and fangs and you’re drooling. I’m not about to die in the stupidest way possible, go find another schmuck.”

That got a rise out of him.

I don’t know how I understood him or how he understood me, but the pejorative tone was definitely communicated; he snarled and snapped at the air, rising up on his haunches to claw at the bark of the tree in a display of aggression likely aimed at scaring me off my perch.

“Simpering cur, I have given you a command as a Prince of The Forest and I will be heard! Come down or I will have to come to you!”

I was no more inclined to leave the safety of the branches with a snarling angry wolf on the ground below me.

“Yeah no, wolves can’t climb trees, I learned that shit on the discovery channel.”

The display of aggression went on for a few more seconds before the futility of the act set in and he returned to a resting pose, piercing golden eyes narrowing as he spoke once more into my mind.

“Then I will simply wait, you will have to come down sometime.”

Another pause.

“So you actually admit that you were planning on luring me down and eating me from the beginning?”

“Sun and sky, yes! Are you dense?!”

I shrugged and reclined on the bough, relaxing and going about cleaning my wounds and changing my bandages; I dropped the discarded scraps of linen down to the ground and just barely missed his head.

After finishing getting myself cleaned up and having a little bit of breakfast, I was tired of waiting.

The ‘prince’ was circling the base of the tree like a shark, trying to make me nervous I think, but there really does come a time when you’ve hit peak anxiety and I was already dying of infection impossibly far from anything I could comfortably call familiar.

“What foulness do you drop on my personage, whelp!?”

“You really don’t need to yell, you’re the one who decided to camp out down there.”

Maybe it was a bad idea, but I followed that up with a taunt.

"What kind of wolf are you anyway, 'ordering' me to come down?"

No response at first, seemed he was trying to keep his calm, but I kept em coming.

“I mean honestly do you think of this as hunting? You order things to get into your mouth? How often does that work jackass?“

About then I was out of fear, if that wasn’t immediately apparent by all the sass; I needed to get a move on at some point, but I didn’t expect him to hang around too long before getting bored.

“Fucking hell, you’re pathetic. You should go find someone more gullible, I’m not red riding hood.”

If looks could kill, his stare would’ve burned a hole right through me; but I’ve been subject to that before while working retail. It might’ve been a bit insane, but I just put myself in that mindset and it really helped.

“Seriously, time to run on home Fido, I’ve got more important shit to do than deal with your dumb ass.”

That was the last straw apparently.

“Insolent bitch! I will crush your bones to powder!”

That set him off again, more leaping, barking, snapping; what I couldn’t figure out was why the hell he didn’t call for help, pride maybe?

For whatever reason he was alone and directly below me and I had flasks of some kind of magical acid; it doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out my next course of action. I pulled the bottle out and called down one last warning.

“Last warning, leave me alone and no one needs to get hurt…”

Let no one say I don’t give peace a chance.

“Who do you think you are to order me aro-AAAAGGGHHHHH!”

I chucked down the bottle of Alchemical Acid and watched the magic happen. The bottle caught him square in the head and shattered, a neon green spray of the nasty concoction quickly soaked his front half and began bubbling and hissing.

Don’t look at me like that, I wasn’t about to wait through another monologue.

The wolf quickly collapsed into a writhing ball of agony, attempting to rub the substance out of his fur before finally resorting to clawing at the afflicted areas.

I couldn’t help sucking a hissing breath between my teeth, anyone would in my shoes, seeing skin and fur slough off his face while hearing non stop screams; it turns out you don’t need to pause to breathe when you’re screaming telepathically.

“Hss… ooh, that looks painful.”

“AAAAGHHHH! Make it stop, make it stop; I yield, I YIELD!”

His screaming sort of devolved further into less coherent communication and well… I started to feel just a little bad about it; sure, he was planning on killing me, but this felt a bit extreme...

“Hey uh… wolf dude, try and wash your face off with some water; that might make it stop burning!”

It might not be much, but I’m not exactly a trained chemist… plus it was enough to get him to leave; the wolf booked it towards the lake faster than I’ve seen anything move.

“... okay, so this stuff is… potent.”

I took a moment to gather myself and plan my descent and suddenly thought I ought to be a bit more careful in how I handled the bottles of Alchemical Acid.

I left the branches of the tree in a controlled descent once again aided by my trusty length of rope and the use of my teeth; hemp rope doesn’t taste any better the second time. After washing my mouth out, I marched onward feeling understandably grumpy; the smidge of sympathy I felt dissolved pretty quickly as I moved on with my day.

“Prince of The Forest my ass… entitled little shit.”

---

We move once again away from the concerns of Amber, our ‘heroine’, to a place not so far from her in time or space.

Within the walls of Lands End, a village to the north of The Ficklewood, problems not completely divorced from her actions have arisen.

In the hall of The Gilded Goose, close to 50 adventurers are gathered and engaged in raucous drinking, conversation, and debate; well over the amount one might expect in a village so small.

All of them were brought together by a common purpose; money, or more specifically a quest with relatively high payout and few details.

This was not the normal state of the tavern, space was at a premium and service was slowed by the sheer volume of orders being sent in to the overburdened kitchen.

The rough and rowdy patrons took every chance to voice colorfully worded complaints to the staff regarding the wait times. This continued until a burly bearded figure grabbed the attention of the room with the rapping of a hammer against a standing shield taller than most men and a voice that shook the rafters.

Guild master Elcan Devsol had a way with words.

“Shuuuut up ya lot of whinin’ gripers and wait yer turn to order! The Goose ain’t had more than 14 men in er at a time in a decade and Young Mistress Lilly is doin’ her level best to feed you sods!”

That way was loud.

Despite the crude tone and the sheer volume of his voice, not one complaint was raised against him and order was restored with a few respectful ‘yes guildmaster’s thrown in for good measure.

“Now while yer bein reasonable godsdamned people for five minutes, it’s time to go through the briefing; Imir, you’re up!”

His companion at the table rose like a bolt, nervous as ever but speaking in a clear and level tone, he began explaining just why all of them were there.

“Thank you Guildmaster Elcan.”

“The activity of monsters in The Ficklewood has been rising, no fewer than nineteen dangerously strong migratory beasts of [Field Boss] rank have emerged and assaulted nearby hamlets since the beginning of spring; most disconcertingly, four of those attacks were in the last week.”

Expertly he gestures to a crude map of the Ficklewood and surrounding lands where a number of dotted lines indicate the recorded movement of monsters by scouts and druids patrolling the edge of possibly the most dangerous patch of unclaimed land in several hundred kilometers.

Despite the withering glare of the guildmaster, a number of hoots and jeers rise from the crowd, a braggadocious member of the audience speaks up.

“Dangerously strong my ass, me and the lads in Mudswallow took ours down in under a minute!”

Elcan is quick to shut him down with a sharp retort that quiets the others by proxy.

“Shut yer trap and listen, information is what keeps adventurers alive, you shouldn’t give up a chance to learn something.”

Imir winces slightly, but does his best to continue; uncertain why so many of these young adventurers seem incapable of imagining something being strong enough to threaten their lives.

“I’d like to take a moment to provide context as a [Scholar], [Druid], and [Natural Philosopher] recognized by the adventurers guild before we continue with the specifics of the quest briefing.”

Emboldened in his own personal quest against ignorance, he leaves little room for response as he continues describing the more concerning details of the region.

“As I’m sure most of you are aware, The Ficklewood is classed as a coreless [Field Dungeon] at C+ rank on it’s borders rising to SSS+ in isolated regions; according to all known records it has not been subject to a successful complete survey in 200 years, though patchwork investigations have provided us with the information we have now.”

This information was not, as Imir thought, common knowledge and caused quite a few faces to blanch in response.

Yes, the Ficklewood was a most deadly locale; only after the loss of countless lives had it been determined that it was not a true [Dungeon] but in fact a [Field Dungeon]; region so rich in Vital Mana that the ecosystem produced terrifyingly strong monsters at an unheard of rate.

“The foothills of the Iskha mountains and high cliffs cupping it’s southern half act as a natural barrier keeping the bulk of its horrors locked within as well as recirculating Vital Mana back into its ecosystem and outwards towards the borderlands.”

Despite the danger of living so close to a [Field Dungeon] the settlement rights for the land nearby were greatly contested.

The runoff Vital Mana had the effect of bolstering living things suffused in it; children were born healthier, those who trained their bodies grew in strength at startling speeds, livestock matured faster and bred heartier, crops yielded more nutritious food in greater volumes and often at times outside of their traditional growing season.

The benefits were numerous, but it was a deadly dance, the wild places that emitted this mysterious power could just easily spit out a horror to destroy all the good they yielded.

“It is believed that something is causing a shift in monster territories, resulting in the weaker beasts being ejected from the Ficklewood; the monsters within the borders of the wood are liable to outstrip those encountered outside by several degrees in their strength and intellect.”

Imir allowed a pause to let the gravity of his words sink it; the [Field Boss] level enemies they’d been encountering were the weakest the wood had to offer.

Though his previous words may not have inspired confidence, Imir was confident that they’d served a more important purpose, instilling caution.

“Now, with that out of the way; our mission is to enter The Ficklewood and determine the cause of the imbalance, either rectifying it ourselves or bringing information back to the guild so a more experienced subjugation team can be dispatched to resolve the issue.”

“This is going to be a full 48 man raid with eight squadrons of six; two squadrons will be dedicated support staff, two will be redundant combat and raid leader parties, and the remaining four will be investigation squadrons.”

“Each of you has already been assigned to a party, we’ve done our best to make certain you’re paired with individuals you know and have worked well with in the past, but some mistakes are bound to happen in an operation this large; don’t allow your differences to endanger the rest of the raid.”

“Each team will be supplied with a druid or ranger with [Beast Tongue], [Wild Empathy], or a similar perk or ability allowing for communication with intelligent beasts.”

“Not all parties will have a dedicated healer due to issues with availability but if you remain in formation you should have no issue getting help as needed.”

Imir’s audience had been listening calmly or at least not audibly complaining up until this point, but this last piece of information had a few adventurers up in arms; a sharp glare from Elcan prevented a riot, but it couldn’t stop the question from being asked in a more civil manner.

“Why don’t we have healers and what are you expecting us to do with information this old?”

Elcan fields half the question, his expression sour as he says what most of them already knew but few really liked to think about.

“It’s the damn politicking; The Church of Usvalen won’t spare a cleric for any fee we can pay; that lot doesn’t care a lick about the outlying villages.”

Imir gives a quick nod before moving on, not wanting to give that unrest a chance to take over the conversation.

“Our information may be piecemeal and out of date, but it gives us an approximate idea of what to expect going in and that’s more than you’ll get outside of tamed [Dungeons] so count yourselves lucky.”

“A group of monsters near their peak evolutions rule the forest with a series of overlapping territories.”

“Records specify the following as the six strongest monsters in The Ficklewood: an [Emperor Gator] estimated level 950, a [Lupine Baroness] of estimated level 850, a [Windfather Eagle Lord] estimated level 750, an [Alarune Mother] estimate level 550, an [Apidean Lady] estimated level 500, and a [Greenwood Viper Lord] estimated level 450 .”

“Despite being ostensibly the strongest, the [Emperor Gator] is not expected to be an issue, this close to the start of spring it’s unlikely that it has awoken from its hibernation and others of its kind rarely leave the lakes they’re born in unless disturbed or provoked.”

“The [Greenwood Viper Lord] isn’t expected to be a problem, the air is still too cold for it to awaken and should we encounter it, it should be sluggish enough to defeat without issue.”

“The [Apidean Lady] is a special case, Apideans of noble or royal caste are often open to negotiation; in the case that your party encounters one you are to immediately send a runner to a command squadron and not attempt negotiation yourself.”

“We do not expect to encounter the [Windfather Eagle Lord] as records mark its territory as being along the south edge of the forest along the cliffs.”

“The greatest threats are those that require no provocation and currently we’re expecting the [Alarune Mother] and [Lupine Baroness] to be our biggest obstacles to avoid.”

“Both of them will likely have a wide following of subordinate monsters and have strong territorial and predatory tendencies.”

“More specifically we need to take extra care because [Alarune] are very active in early spring and it’s recommended that you keep a charm preventing mental status effects on you at all times if you can afford to rent or purchase one; otherwise inform your party [Druid] and request a casting of [Mind Refresh] every six to eight hours.”

“Now, onto the matter of advance payment and scaling danger pay…”

---

The meeting continued and a great many ‘negotiations’ occurred; most of which were failed attempts at intimidating Elcan into ceding more funds before the expedition.

Despite the impending danger, the tavern took on a vibrant and lively atmosphere before long; a few pages and support staff press ganged into assisting the service staff was enough to prevent further complaints.

There was no way for any of them to anticipate the actual cause of the forest’s imbalance or to foresee just how out of date their records were; it’s an unfortunate fact that many [Scouts] and [Surveyors] have lied regarding just how far into the forest they’ve gone and how much information they’ve confirmed.