"So, what happens now? Does she throw us out of her domain?" Viviane wondered, chewing on her bottom lip. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as she watched Ebonheim converse with the imposing harpy queen.

"If she doesn't want us intruding, then that would be ideal," Lorne responded calmly, though his hands lingered near the hilt of his weapon. "Though I suspect things will be far more complicated." He glanced towards a group of harpies, who sat nearby, mutilating the remains of the monster that Liselotte had hunted.

"She does seem a tad upset," Urien agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let's hope Ebonheim can smooth things over." He flashed a wry grin, attempting to lighten the mood. "I doubt anyone can resist her charms for long, eh?"

Thorsten grunted noncommittally, his eyes never leaving Ebonheim. His hand gripped his axe, which rested on the ground before him. "Whatever happens, stay on your guard. There's no telling how they'll react."

Lorne nodded in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. I trust Ebonheim, but her presence may not be enough to placate them. Be prepared for anything."

Ingrid and Serelle glanced at each other, before turning back to observe Ebonheim and Liselotte.

---

Ebonheim stared at Liselotte, searching for the right words to soothe the tense situation.

"Uh, yes. About that, um...I apologize for trespassing. But hear me out. I'm building a road leading from my domain to the eastern entrance of the valley. I didn't realize that I was already in your territory until my party encountered one of your harpies yesterday. She brought us here, and we're hoping to gain your permission to build that road."

She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture and continued, "Lotte, please understand. I have no intention of encroaching upon your domain. I just want to build a safe path so travelers can move more freely across the vale."

Liselotte narrowed her eyes. "This is my territory. The land and the skies are the privilege of the strong. The weak have no claim here." Her lips curled into a feral grin, baring rows of sharp teeth. "The weak are our prey."

Damn it. I don't like where this is headed.

Ebonheim fell silent, racking her brain for a way to salvage the situation.

Suddenly, she remembered the wager they had a few years back at the first gathering of the Lords of the Eldergrove. Ebonheim won the chess game in the end, and her prize was a tour of their respective territories.

"Hey. Remember when I beat you at chess a few years ago? Don't you remember our bet? You promised to give me a tour of your territory. I lost track of time, but you owe me that tour. Now's as good a time as any to collect." She waved at her companions. "Those people over there? They're my retinue. I brought them along on my tour of your territory."

Liselotte regarded her coolly, arching one eyebrow. "Bet? Mmmn, yes... I vaguely recall. But you broke into my territory, unannounced. Therefore, you forfeit your claim. I don't owe you anything."

"Wait, what?" Ebonheim blinked, dumbfounded. "Lotte, that's not f—"

Liselotte lifted her chin, fixing her with a haughty stare. "The strong dictate the terms. Those are the rules. You were not invited. Your mere presence here proves you broke your end of the wager." She fluffed her wings, stretching her arms languidly. "You expect me to acknowledge a broken contract?"

"Your petition for access to my land won't be granted." Liselotte's eyes flicked to Ebonheim's companions, lingering on their weapons. "Nor will you leave my domain alive."

"Lotte! We're friends! Look, it's my fault for not asking permission first. So, can we make a deal? I can compensate you for your hospitality, I promise. If there's anything I can do to make amends, just name it. Anything!—Oh, I know! We can team up in the next gathering. What do you say?" Ebonheim offered, trying to appeal to Liselotte's competitive spirit.

Liselotte's expression never wavered, but she cocked her head to the side, considering. "Friendship is irrelevant. Our territories are separate, and this valley is mine. The only thing I acknowledge is strength." She unfurled her wings, stretching them to their full width. The afternoon sunlight reflected off their azure-white plumage, casting a sharp, jagged shadow over Ebonheim. "And you...are weaker than me."

Ebonheim frowned, clenching her fists. "Is that a challenge? Listen, I'm not trying to fight you. I only came to ask for permission to build a road. If your answer is no then we'll leave immediately."

Liselotte leaned closer, looming over Ebonheim like a dark specter. "We never let our prey escape."

Upon hearing those words, the other harpies stopped their gorging and turned in unison to stare at Ebonheim's party with a predatory gleam in their eyes. Even Gwynelle, who had knelt and prostrated herself on the ground, lifted her head, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and resignation.

"Hey, hey, Goddess. I don't like this. I really don't like this." Urien whispered in a low tone, his grip tightening around the handle of his hammer as the party slowly started backing away towards the forest. "The bird-girls are definitely starting to give me the creeps."

"Um, Lotte? Can we at least discuss this over tea or something? Come on, Lotte. This isn't funny. Don't scare me like this," Ebonheim insisted, but Liselotte remained unmoved.

Liselotte stepped forward, her taloned feet scratching against the rocky ground. As she approached, the rest of the harpies rose, spreading their wings, and followed in her wake. "The weak are food."

Ebonheim gulped, backing away. "Well...they don't appear to be open to negotiation now. Get ready." She turned to face the others, her gaze catching Lorne's who nodded imperceptibly in return.

It looked like they were going to have to fight their way out of this, but there were too many harpies for her companions to fight. The only way to save them was to subdue Liselotte herself, and fast.

She couldn't afford to hold back—or let Liselotte have the first strike.

As the party backed away from the advancing harpies, Ebonheim clasped her hands together, focusing her will towards the surrounding trees along the forest's edge.

Five trees roared to life; their roots wriggled beneath the soil, bursting forth in a shower of dirt and mulch. Their trunks creaked and groaned, their limbs twisting and bending into humanoid shapes.

Ebonheim imbued them with the ability to cast her Vines of the Bramble King, and she wasted no time in directing her sentinels to use it.

Her tree sentinels marched forward, their emerald eyes glowing with an eerie light.

Vines and roots erupted beneath the harpies, coiling around their legs and bodies.

The harpies screeched, flapping their wings wildly, but the vines held firm. Several managed to flee, escaping into the sky, while the rest struggled and writhed in their bonds.

"Go! Go, go, go!" Ebonheim cried, and the party rushed towards the forest, disappearing into the thick foliage.

Her divine aura flared to life, enveloping her in a halo of golden light. She summoned her Ebon bow and stared Liselotte straight in the eye, trying to gauge her reaction.

The harpy queen didn't look angry, only mildly annoyed. She swatted away the vines holding her with her wing, as if they were mere strands of spider-web. The roots holding her legs cracked and splintered, and she took to the sky, hovering above Ebonheim.

As the group fled, a small group of harpies gave chase, screeching and swooping through the forest.

They should be fine. As long as most of the harpies were ensnared, and she dealt with Liselotte, her companions should be able to handle the pursuers.

"Don't worry about us! Just do what you need to do!" Thorsten yelled as he led the others further into the forest.

Ebonheim nodded, before turning to Liselotte. "It seems we'll have to fight. I hope you understand that I'm not doing this out of malice."

Liselotte hissed, a teal mist beginning to emanate from her body. "Mmn. It is what it is." She grinned fiercely, spreading her wings wide. "You'll be the third godling I've slain who trespassed into my territory."

Without a moment's hesitation, Liselotte launched herself towards Ebonheim in a blur of azure-white, her talons lashing out like spears.

---

Gwynelle fluttered above the forest, her keen eyes scanning the dense foliage for any sign of movement. The dozen harpies that escaped the clutches of the vines, had divided themselves into three groups, each one tasked with tracking down the intruders. As the eldest of the four in her group, she had been assigned as the leader, much to her chagrin.

Mesyori led another group, while the four who eyed the human called Lorne banded together to form the last group.

Her eyes flickered towards the white-haired harpy of her group, a petite figure with silver eyes and wings adorned with blue ribbons. Unlike her kin, she displayed little interest in pursuing the intruders. Instead, she spent her time poking at the bark of nearby trees.

Gwynelle flew down, landing on the branch beside the other harpy, and called out her name. "Merethyl!"

Merethyl jerked her head up, blinking owlishly. "Mm?"

"Stop fooling around," Gwynelle scoffed. "We hunt prey, not play." She extended her talons in a demonstration of what they needed to do to catch their prey. "Claw. Stab. Kill."

Merethyl tilted her head. "Why?"

"Because it fun! Wait—nae, nae! Skytalon said. 'They're weak. They're prey.'" Gwynelle waved her wing towards the others, who were huddled together on the forest floor. "Hide. Trap. Catch prey." She pointed a talon at Merethyl. "You help."

The other harpies gazed at Gwynelle, nodding encouragingly, but Merethyl frowned and shook her head. "Nae."

"W-what? Why nae?"

"Nae hungry," she answered flatly. "Dinnae wanna eat."

"Oi, oi! Skytalon said kill prey!" Gwynelle squawked. "Listen to Skytalon!"

Merethyl shrugged. "Don't care." She turned back to examine the tree trunk. "Nae hungry."

Gwynelle stomped her feet against the bark of the tree branch, furious at the disobedience. The other two harpies in the group tittered, but remained silent, cowed by her glare. She sighed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She tried again.

"Come. Help." She waved her wing at the other harpies. "Help. Hunt prey."

Merethyl tilted her head, gazing at them blankly. "Nae."

"Skytalon sad if nae find. You nae want make Skytalon sad?"

A frown tugged at Merethyl's lips, but she shook her head again. "Nae."

Gwynelle faltered, unsure of what else to say. Her eyes flicked back to the two other harpies, who simply stared at her expectantly. No help there.

She paced back and forth on the branch, racking her brain for another argument. How could she convince this stubborn harpy to cooperate?

Think, think. What would Skytalon say? Ah, Skytalon...Skytalon...

Something occurred to her. "Praise."

The other harpies perked up, their eyes bright with curiosity. Even Merethyl peered at her curiously, head tilting to one side. "Mmm?"

"If catch prey, Skytalon happy. You get praise. Much praise. Very nice. Happy." Gwynelle extended her wing, pointing to her chest. "Gwynelle got praise when catch deer." She patted her stomach, and her mouth watered as she recalled the sumptuous feast. "Very happy."

Merethyl hesitated, her head swiveling between the group and the tree. "Skytalon..." she murmured, as if considering. "Praise." She turned to Gwynelle, her eyes wide. "I nae ever got praise."

Gwynelle gasped, horrified. "What? No praise?"

"Never got," she repeated. She fidgeted, shifting uneasily. Her wings drooped, and her expression clouded. "Nae praise for Merethyl."

"Nae fair. Must change. Must try." Gwynelle reached forward and placed a wing on her shoulder, giving it a comforting pat. "Try to catch prey. Try to get praise. Come!" She beckoned. "We help. We help you."

Merethyl straightened, her feathers fluffing out, and she nodded slowly. "I try. I try to catch prey. Want to try."

Gwynelle fluttered her wings excitedly. "Good! Now come!" She gestured at the other harpies and they hopped to their feet. "We work together! We hunt prey!"

The harpies raised their wings and cheered in unison. "Yay!"

---

From the shelter of a dense copse of trees, the party watched as the harpies attempted to negotiate with the white-feathered one. She seemed hesitant at first, but after some cajoling and encouragement, she agreed to join them in the hunt.

They watched as the four harpies took flight, scouring the forest for their quarry.

Urien blew out a sigh, his shoulders sagging with relief. "That's a load off my mind. Let's pray they don't come across our trail. I've killed all manners of man and beast, but I ain't too keen on killing those harpies." He grimaced. "Would feel like slaughtering children."

Serelle continued weaving her cloaking spell to shroud them in a veil of invisibility. She had a similar misgiving as Urien. "I agree. Though they are ultimately a monstrous race, they appear to possess a sense of innocence and naïveté." She shook her head. "It would not sit well with me to harm them unnecessarily."

Thorsten snorted, his expression hardening. "Spare me the bleeding hearts. If they attack us, we've no choice but to defend ourselves." He adjusted his grip on his axe. "Don't expect me to hold back."

Lorne stood nearby, his brow furrowed in concentration as he kept a wary eye on the forest. "Your point is valid, but let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'm more concerned with the other groups hunting for us." He scanned the forest, peering into the dark underbrush. "We should keep moving."

"We can only move at a slow walk without breaking the spell," Serelle warned. "It doesn't conceal our presence entirely, so we have to move as quietly as possible."

Ingrid crouched nearby, inspecting her rune-encrusted shield, checking the enchantments etched into the steel surface. "I'll take rear guard and watch our backs."

Viviane rolled two pellets in her palm, feeling the alchemical components inside through her gloves. "I've got a few trinkets that might incapacitate them, if necessary," she added, gesturing toward a pouch at her hip. "Though I can't guarantee how effective they'll be against harpies."

"Much appreciated, Viviane," Lorne replied. "All right. Everyone, stay alert. Keep your eyes and ears open. I'll lead the way." He adjusted his grip on his sword hilt and stepped through the bushes, the others following closely behind.

They walked in silence, their footsteps muffled by the leaf-covered ground. The occasional rustle in the brush or snap of twigs caused them to freeze in place, weapons at the ready, but no harpies appeared. Serelle's magic veiled them well, it seemed.

When the shadows of the harpies in flight passed overhead, they remained hidden, hardly daring to breathe.

Lorne traced a path away from clearings and open spaces, steering them toward the denser parts of the forest, where the canopy blocked out most of the daylight and provided them better cover.

He pushed his way through the undergrowth, careful not to disturb any branches or leaves as he did so. He paused often, listening for signs of pursuit. The forest had grown eerily quiet, and the hairs on his arms began to prickle.

As they rounded a bend, Lorne froze, raising a hand in warning. Thorsten stepped up to his side, squinting in the dim light.

Ahead lay a steep ravine, its craggy walls sheer and treacherous. The river below had carved its way through the rock, forming a deep gorge. Water rushed along its course, hissing and splashing among the jagged stones. It wound its way through the forest, eventually joining with a larger river far to the west. The only way forward was a narrow strip of land, barely wide enough for one person.

One wrong step would send them plummeting to a watery grave.

"Should we see if we can find another way around?" Viviane asked. "Or perhaps we can backtrack, try another route?"

"No time. The harpies may be on our trail already." Lorne examined the gorge. "There may be no choice but to cross here."

Thorsten frowned, eyeing the river's violent current. "Not sure we should risk it. It's a long drop to the bottom. One slip and you're done for."

"Aye, I'm aware, but if we remain, we'll be harpies' meat for sure," Lorne muttered. "We'll have to chance it."

Serelle lowered her staff, letting the cloak of invisibility fade away. "The effort expended to maintain the spell will quickly tire me if I strain myself. We cannot avoid a confrontation forever."

"All the more reason to put as much distance between us and the harpies as quickly as we can," Ingrid remarked, gripping her shield tighter. "Lead on, Lorne."

Lorne nodded, drawing in a steadying breath. "Everyone, tread carefully. One at a time. Hope no one has a fear of heights."