• Closed • The End of Hope

[Doran]

Continued from here

Vhalar 20, Arc 716

As he rushed back towards the portal, holding the sword that was stained with Xiur’s blood in his hand, he could hear the screams behind him, for somebody to find a healer, for somebody to help the fallen Immortal and stop his attacker. He didn’t turn around, aware that such a move would cost him precious trills and, perhaps, his life although he did wonder if the Immortal of Hope had already taken his last breath and if the world would in any way change if there was one less Immortal in it. Had anybody ever dared to do what he had done?

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the Eidisi he had talked to on the ship hurrying to his side. He didn’t stop, but only cast the briefest of glances at her although he did appreciate her support as she was the only one in their group who possessed any measure of intelligence and realized what was really happening around them. There would be enough time for explanations later on – if the two of them managed to survive.

He had almost reached the portal – and thus relative safety – when a golden sphere suddenly sprang into existence in front of it. He stopped in his tracks, fast, but not fast enough to avoid the explosion that followed. All he could do was turn his head away so that his face wouldn’t be hit, but after a moment he realized that, while he had been thrown clear of the portal, he was unhurt. The portal was now out of reach though. Qylios and her Blessed were in the way, and although he possessed some skill with his chosen weapon he was not so arrogant as to assume that he would be able to defeat them.

He quickly moved away from Xiur’s grieving sister and gave Yana a sign to follow him, if she was still willing to. If they could not escape to Emea, he thought, their best bet was to get lost in the crowd for a while before they moved away from the battlefield where they were surrounded by enemies. So far nobody seemed to be following them. It seemed as if very few had seen his face in all the chaos. Regardless, he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. Considering the cold such a gesture was unlikely to attract a lot of attention.

As he attempted to flee from the portal and get away from the battlefield he sent a quick prayer to Syroa – although he would not wait for the Immortal to come and intervene for his sake. He was not one of those fools that put their fate into the hands of the gods and then sat there patiently and passively, expecting to be saved. He hoped that she would appreciate his deed though, that it would change the course of the war and open their eyes to the truth.

In all the centuries Syroa had been the only one of her kind that had ever given him something worthwhile and not merely used him and told him lies.

[Yanahalqah]

There was a bright light forming as she caught up with Doran. It sat between them and the portal for a moment before exploding, and sending them and everyone close enough flying. She cursed internally as she sailed through the air, scrapping the gateway from her list of possible escape routes. Only a moment later she tumbled through the snow, surprisingly unhurt, but quite a distance away from the portal. Maybe for the better. They wouldn't have to waste time having to make a u-turn that way, though getting up wasn't ideal either. She groaned momentarily as she rolled onto her hands and knees, lifting herself up from the white dust, eye searching for Doran.

He was already moving away, it seemed he too did not wish to waste any time, especially so since he'd just tried to kill a deity. Getting back to her feet, and pulling her hood over her head to ward off the cold, Yana wondered what the best plan of action was. She'd rather not fight; not with this or the other side of Immortals and their minions. However, depending on who had seen her getting closer to Doran without much intention of apprehending him, she might already be robbed of the element of choice. If they thought her an ally of a traitor, she'd be attacked, and would have to defend herself. What a bother.

The Yludih stepped into the crowd then, unsure of what to do. While it did not matter to her whether or not Doran was or wasn't caught and killed by his pursuers, she would like to get back to Andaris as soon as possible, and it was likely the man knew a way. Alternatively, she could just go sit in the infirmary and do nothing at all. That would still leave her too close to the battlefield however, and if the shadow beasts and warrior women managed to push the Summoned back, she'd still get caught up in the middle of it all. Doran remained her best bet.

Fortunately for her, she'd been moving the whole time, pushing through the crowd and walking in the direction the man had taken. As his hurried stride was quicker than hers, however, she'd lost him somewhere along the way. Not that it mattered all that much, she merely picked up the pace and kept her eye open for someone that had the same stature and clothes like him. Though it did take her a while, the man was easily spotted, and the Yludih quickly approached him once more, a hand gripping his arm to forcibly slow him down. “Act relaxed,” she spoke in hushed whisper, “you will stand out too much if you rush.” Especially when moving away from the battlefield, Yana found. They did rush to the battle, but not away from it. The chaos was excellent cover, but moving to quickly would ruin it nevertheless.

“Where are we going?” she asked a moment later, “What is your alternative escape route?”

[Symbri]

Vhalar, 716

If Only she hadn't wanted to be the Hero, if only she'd stayed with Xiur, perhaps she could have protected him. As it was she'd failed she run back fom the battlefield when the cry had reached her sprinting to her fallen titan's side. Her mind in turmoil, she'd only just met the Immortal and now she was worried she'd have to say goodbye.

It was a somber reunion when she finally caught up with her fallen deity, but she pushed back her despair to grin at the fallen man, holding back the fear that he might not rise again. Taking his hand, that was weak but still warm Symbri. But then the warmth grew white hot, not unpleasant, but strange beyond words something she couldn't compare to anything she'd ever experienced before, it was like being immersed in a warm glowing see of.. of well...hope? Hope for the future for the moment, her despair melsted and as Xiur's words echoed in her mind as her body shifted she became a being of singular mind and purpose.

Her transformation complete Symbri was amazed at her new and alien form, it felt right, as if she;d been waiting her whole life to assume such a form. Bowing to Xiur Symbri stretched her thoughts and Prayers to him.

"Have hope my lord, I'll not let you down, nor will you be allowed to fall, I'll carry hope this day so that you might carry hope on the Morrow."

Lifting her head towards the Sky she inhaled through her new nostrils and caught scent of a smell that disgusted her, it made her want to wretch and simultaneously felt familiar. It was the Smell of Xiur's Blood. Letting out a great angry bellow to the Sky She set out after the scent Faster than she could have ever run as a human, her great antlers illuminating her path.

Her mind ablaze not with hate or fury, but righteous indignation, the thought that someone would try and kill hope, only the most despicable of human's would stoop to such a level. Following a scent was not easy and their were moments when in the myriad of unwashed bodies it was lost. Bust such a wretched stench could always be found again raising her head high and letting forth another challenging bleat, hopes cry as it were she watched as people turned and looked at her with awe and some people fear, for a moment Symbri felt she saw a man making his way away from them directly in the direction the scent was leading. Moving in that direction she followed trying to see the dark haired man again and confirm her carried the wretched smell.

[Maltruism]

Where the incident of Xiur's betrayal was foremost in the minds and hearts of those near the portal, this portal was some distance from the front lines of battle. But these lines are ever in flux, hinging equally upon numbers, tactics, and pure, suicidal viciousness.

This was perhaps the worst aspect of the enemies the heroes of Idalos fought. The Shadow Creatures had no fear, and seemed to only find purpose in destruction. And though this made them less than brilliant tactically, being given to rampages that did not align with any recognizably strategic goal, they were impossible to demoralize through heroic effort. Normal levels of casualties, or build-ups of Ellune defenders, did not take root in their minds as cause to break off an attack. It made defensive strategies difficult to plan, due to the erratic boldness of the unnatural foes. The same was true of their own defensive responses to the attacks by the newly arrived Ne'harean reinforcements. They simply did not respond the way any previously effective strategy could predict.

Added to this problem was the diminished effectiveness of Ellune weaponry, based as it so often was on cold and ice. The rest of Idalos had learned that fire was the best weapon, seeming to literally evaporate the creatures. Ice spears and spikes, and cold-enchanted blades had no additional effect beyond basic tissue wounds. And the shadows could take many such wounds before dissipating. And though the 'shadow-invisibility' charm many heroes wore made initial attacks easy to achieve, the shadow creatures returned many effective counter-strikes out of sheer manic whirlwind strokes, pressing back in the direction their wound had come from without seeming to tire.

Then there were the more goal-focused Naerikk, combining teamwork and savagery to deadly effect. They did not seem affected by the U'frek charm, being able to see their heroic foes quite easily. Among them were a few that carried some sort of talisman that allowed them to remain in their true shadow form. This made them impossible to distinguish from the more feral shadow creatures, only to have their calculating tactics unleash coordinated strikes of grim effectiveness.

Unknown to the heroes, this talisman was nothing more than a small measure of Augierine soil, soaked in the ether-rich blessing of their Immortal matron, Audrae. It protected them from the damaging effects of light of all kinds, allowing them to shift from shadow to flesh at will. These elites had no protection from regular wounds however, save that each was a master of their chosen weapon.

Fortunately for the heroes, there were few of them gifted with this benefit. And depending on any given person's knowledge or view of what Doran had done, it could be seen as fortunate or unfortunate that one such Naer now looked upon the form of Doran, retreating from the battle, and sensed something powerful residing in or on his blade. She was determined to learn what it was that gleamed that way to her 'attuned' eyes, for it was nothing she'd ever seen before. She, Sword Mistress Gremielle, would let nothing stop her from making this discovery. Curiosity and ambition merged into unstoppable resolve.

But again, unlike the shadow beasts of Lisirra's team, Gremielle knew patience; practiced it both in approach and battle. She would not rush madly towards this goal. She shifted into shadow form now, finding crevices, cover, and dark-colored patched of ice to track this man with the oddly gleaming blade, he joined now by some female. So fixed upon this pair was she that she failed to note the burst of radiance far to her right, heralding the transformation of a different human into a form that would pose legitimate threat to her skill and form.

[Doran]

As the Yludih told him to act relaxed, the Mortalborn nodded curtly and slowed down somewhat so that she would have an easier time keeping up with him. She did have a point. A man that was trying to get away from the battlefield as quickly as possible while everybody else was rushing towards it would attract too much attention, especially if he was the only one that was moving in that direction.

He didn’t reply immediately as she asked him where they were going, but took a few moments to observe their surroundings instead. What little vegetation managed to exist in Oscillus would provide no cover from prying eyes, although they were, for the time being, still surrounded by other people which made them harder to find. There still wasn’t anybody following them. He hoped that it would stay that way a while longer.

“There are two ways we can go from here”, he informed her as he turned back to her. He had thought about it for a while. It was best to always have a back-up plan or even two or three in case the first one failed. When he had decided to attack, he had also decided that he would try and live to tell the tale, for Syroa, for all those that he had loved and lost, for all those that had been betrayed, ignored or neglected by his father’s people. He would not die, not yet, not in this frozen land, so far away from home.

“We might be able to find a boat that will take us to Port. From there we will be able to reach any number of cities, cities where they share our views of the Immortals and where we will be safe, where we might even be welcome. If anybody is coming after us, they will have a much harder time following us across the ocean.”

“If we cannot find a way to reach Port”, he continued. He tried to speak calmly and confidently and ignore that strange feeling deep inside his soul, even though he was aware that every plan that he had carried a certain risk. “There is still Solaero which is further away, but can be reached on foot or horseback. Either way, I do not intend to stay in Treidhart longer than is absolutely necessary. It is too dangerous here.”

Apart from the fact that most of their enemies were gathered in Treidhart, winter, ice and snow were his father’s domain. He didn’t want to stay anywhere where his father had power, where people worshipped him. Ziell had turned his back on him when he had needed him the most.

He also had a third plan, but he decided to keep it to himself for now. Yana seemed to be more intelligent and reasonable than most of their previous companions, but he had no idea how she would react if she found out that he could change his appearance, and thus using Syroa’s Blessing would be a last resort, in case somebody had recognized him and managed to find him.

He didn’t ask her what she thought of his plan. That would imply insecurity. If she saw a flaw in it or had a better idea, she would likely tell him. She had had no problem criticizing him before. For now he thought it best to concentrate on where they were going. For a moment he had thought that he had seen a burst of light some distance away, near the portal. He was not sure what exactly it meant, but it was unlikely to be anything good.

[Yanahalqah]

The Yludih feel into a silence when Doran laid out his plan. There weren’t as much options as she’d have liked, but well, it wasn’t like she could come up with anything better. Not in this situation anyway. Perhaps if Doran hadn’t stabbed a god, they could just have hid somewhere, have drunk some hot tea, and played some cards or so. Or have a deep and meaningful philosophical debate about the Immortals and the meaning of life. Maybe.

In this world however, there were no other options but to run. Hiding would be possible as well, but eventually they’d have to return to the group to use the portal, which wouldn’t end well. Obviously. Traveling to another city with access to the sea and ships wasn’t a bad plan really. It made a lot of sense. The only downside was that it was more than predictable, but again, there weren’t really any other options. Escape via the portal would have been perfect, yet that wasn’t a viable route to take anymore. Port was likely to be their best bet. Her best bet. Solaero wasn’t really desirable. She might not be able to pinpoint its exact location, but she knew enough geography to know it wasn’t close to the sea at all. For someone who did not want to get stuck in Scalvoris, and wanted to get back to Rynmere as soon as possible, an inland city was worse than having to avoid a battlefield.

She only nodded in reply, not really able to find real flaws in his logic. It certainly wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one they had at the moment. Well, the only one Doran had, that is. Yana wasn’t planning on letting herself be captured along with him should it come to that. Instead, she wasn’t afraid to sell him out if it gave her an advantage. If it would bring her back to Rynmere faster. If not then there wasn’t really any point in betraying Doran. For now she’d buddy up with him and see where it got her. And if things really turned out badly, she could still change into Rayna and pretend like she’d been among the champions all along.

A flash of bright light way back where they’d come from, near Xiur’s location, erupted, catching Yana’s attention. It felt similar to the one that had blasted them both away from the portal, yet it did not seem to be the same. Her hands reached for her bow, which hung on her back, and an arrow from the quiver at her hip. An arrow at the ready never was a bad idea. Especially when you could feel something bad was about to happen. They might have gotten away from the crowd, but the Yludih wondered whether or not it was a good thing. Perhaps it might be a good idea to start running, if it would help.

“Did you see that?” she asked her companion, glancing over her shoulder just in case some more light would flash. “Or was it just me?” Impossible. She wasn’t one to hallucinate. The flash had really happened, and it bothered her more than it being something she’d dreamt up. It probably meant something. Was it a signal of sorts?

A bleat reached her ears. The sound was feint, no more than a whisper. Something in the distance, behind them. Impossible. No animal would come even remotely close to the battlefield, let alone some flighty creature such as a wild goat or a deer. And yet there it was again, louder this time, slightly closer. Yana stopped to turn around and gave a good look on the snowy plains they had travelled, though the falling snow itself, along with the crowd -which was still visible- blocked her sight.

Still, she did not like this at all. Her Yludih self had no other goal than survival, and it sensed danger. Or perhaps she was being paranoid again, just like she had been when she’d fled Eztos… It is never bad to be cautious.

“Let us make haste,” she decided, “I have a vague premonition of bad things to come, and I do not like it. There is enough space between us and the others anyway, they will hardly notice us in their excitement.” She broke into a jog, not really caring if Doran was coming or not. “Besides, in this weather, visibility is low. I would be surprised if we were to be found.” Then why were they running? “It never hurts to be cautious,” she repeated to herself, giving voice to her thoughts. “It never does.”

[Symbri]

Vhalar, 716

The hunt was on, the scent was ahead, but who carried it? There were so many ahead it was going to be a pain to find the direct source, she couldn’t afford to let her rage overtake her and cloud her thoughts until she was on top of the smell, there was a place for rage but not now she told herself.

Her hooves beat across the frozen ground magnificently in a hard consistent beat, the more sheran the more it felt like she’d been running like this her whole life. Her new body felt so unnaturally natural to her, like a glove tailored exactly to her even though she’d never worn it before. Her Hooves replace her hands but she felt like she could strike just as hard with them as she could fists. Her fur protected her from from cold that had once nipped at her like her flesh had become warmer than any blanket, and her horns, her Horns!! They were extensions of herself like swords that extended from her flesh she could shake her head and cleave a man if the desire struck her, How did men hunt such majestic beasts as these Symbri wondered, their whole bodies were magnificent. Breathing in another waft of air symbri grinned inwardly, the scent was closer.

She’d be upon them Soon. Bada bum bada bum bada bum. Her Hooves sounded as she ran heralding the arrival of Hope given form, she’d crush those that were adversaries of hope and send the message that any who tried would receive the same fate. Ice cracked under her as her pace increased and she angled towards the smell she knew the man was near it was just a matter of finding the creature that carried it, keeping her body tense and eyes open she looked for an attack from any angle if the person who'd attacked Xiur was willing to stab him in the back like a coward she would not be surprised if something similar were tried on her.

[Maltruism]

The theater of battle spares no participants a measure of combat. Retreats, pursuits and reinforcing maneuvers brought new fronts of battle to unexpected sites. On such rough ground, forces of both sides tended to make use of the same pathways, their clashes tending to deny further use as they became clogged with bodies, or had warning issued back to other ranks to avoid this or that ambush zone.

Doran and Yanahalqah had to frequently backtrack and sidestep such sites. More than once, other troops of the heroes' side came across them suddenly, welcoming them desperately into their ranks. Abandonment of such troops was sometimes easily accomplished; not so easily achieved at other times. More than one wounded warrior shouted curses after them, vowing to track them down and kill them for treason and cowardice as they were lost in the mist and confusion.

It was likely that Symbri would come across such soldiers. And though such situations would be overpowering with the smell of other blood, so much so as to drown out the smell of Xiur's essence, she also realized an odd, fundamental communication that allowed her to place the images of those she pursued into the minds of these men. They were only too happy to further this glowing avatar of retribution along the trail of justice.

More than once, both traitors and avenger were set upon by hostile troops. It was mostly the presence of Naerikk that comprised the danger. With Ufrek's charm, Doran and Yanahalqah were able to elude detection by shadow beasts simply by staying off the path and remaining still. Though Symbri also possessed the charm, her empowered form overrode the charm's ability. But her glowing aura made the shadow beasts hold back in uncertainty, and her newly bolstered prowess reduced them disintegrating shreds quickly when they did not.

But ever the trail of scent was being lost to her, to be found again bits later. It seemed always to be leading South though. It stood to reason that her quarry was attempting to find means to leave Oscillus altogether. This brought hope once again to her heart. Once they got themselves out of the fray, the scent she followed would no longer be obscured to her keen senses.

Sword Mistress Gremielle was unaware of this particular detail. It had not occurred to her that the same essence that made the coward's blade shine to her attuned eyes might be the same source that the golden beast followed. She only knew that it troubled her that this magnificent creature seemed bent on the same end result; confrontation and claim. She would hold her prowess against any opponent of mortal sphere, regardless of enhancements to their gear. She had several of her own. But this pursuing beast was clearly beyond anything mortal. Even a highly accomplished Becomer, one with whatever was required to take the form of a Brux, could not "Become" one that radiated such power.

She trailed both parties with expert stealth, not sacrificing awareness of the other dangers in and around her path. More than one offender, some from her own side, found a swift death from behind, as she made sure there would be no other claimants for the blade the traitor carried.

[Doran]

“I saw it”, he confirmed and narrowed his eyes somewhat so that he could see the light better. “But I’m not entirely sure what it means. It could either be some sort of magic, cast against one of the parties on the battlefield, or a signal to alert Xiur’s allies of the fact that one of their own has fallen.”

He hoped for the former, but suspected that the latter would be the case. When he had made his move against the Immortal of Hope he had known that he would be taking a risk and that escaping would be no easy feat, that there would be people trying to stop him and even some that would follow him across the frozen wasteland to capture him and, maybe, take his life.

For that reason he had never sheathed his sword so that he could defend himself – and her – at a moment’s notice, although the thought that a woman who had allied herself with a man like him could change sides again if it became necessary had occurred to him. It was strange, he thought, that he would be considered a villain and a traitor by those that wrote the history of Idalos while the real traitors would be celebrated as heroes.

He did not reply as she suggested that they make haste, but nodded before he too quickened his pace again. Talking would hinder them, it would slow them down because they would be concentrating on something other than their escape. It would be best to focus on putting some space between them and the battle which turned out to be harder than he had anticipated at first. Every time that he thought that they would finally leave the battlefield behind, they seemed to come across a new group of warriors.

He decided to ignore them all, the pleas for help and the cries of those that lay dying in the snow even though there had been a time when he had been a healer and vowed to ease people’s suffering in any way he could. They were none of his concern anymore. They had chosen to ally themselves with the wrong Immortals and believe the lies that they had been told. Besides, he doubted that they would help him if their roles were reversed.

Some of the people that they passed by screamed angrily at him, he noticed. They vowed to track him down and kill him, believing him to be a cowardly deserter. He found their threats to be laughable more than anything else. He knew that even now, after all the time that he had lived the life of a scholar, he would be able to defeat most of those common soldiers in combat.

One of them would pose little danger, unlike whoever might be following them and unlike the shadow creatures that roamed the battlefield. The fact that he bore Syroa’s mark upon his skin seemed to make little difference to them. They seemed to be unable to sense it and attacked indiscriminately. It was just as he readied his sword that he remembered what he had experienced in Ne’haer again.

He had worn the talisman that he had received from U’frek while he had had visited an old friend to find out more about what was going on, and they had been unable to see them as long as he had not made any hasty movements. Every time he saw them, he would thus raise his hand. “Don’t move!” he whispered to Yana. “And stay off the path. As long as we remain still, they won’t attack us.”

One or two would be easy enough to kill, but a whole group of them would pose a serious threat. When he had sought shelter in Elyna Burhan’s home during a thunderstorm earlier that season, they had nearly lost their lives. In the end they had managed to drive the creatures away by starting a fire, but fire would be hard to come by here where they were surrounded by ice and snow.

Besides, fighting the shadow creatures might delay them even longer than stopping for a moment at a time.

“We need to go south”, he informed Yana. They were further away from the portal now, but he could still see troops of both sides here and there. The Naerikk too gave him cause for concern, but a part of him also wondered how they would react if he revealed himself to be one of Syroa’s Blessed.

They were Syroa’s allies, and unlike the shadow creatures they were capable of independent thought. If worse came to worst and he found himself facing an opponent that he could not defeat after all, would they help him or not care what happened to him?

“Our destination lies south of here”, he elaborated and risked a glance at what lay behind them. Visibility was somewhat low, he realized. “Can you see if anybody is following us?” he wanted to know. It seemed strange to him that nobody had come after them yet, strange that they would be so lucky. Or maybe, he considered, their pursuers had simply been held up by enemy troops as well.

[Yanahalqah]

It was obvious that the bright light had and still was bothering Doran too, his facial expression told Yana as much. It wasn't all that strange either; it was unlikely to spell much good for him, seeing as it was he who had slain – or at least had attempted to-- Xiur. Yana thought it equally plausible that any pursuers might focus more on him than her. In essence, she had not done anything – well, not that any of them had seen anyway. Maybe they had witnessed her approaching Doran, but that in of itself was no evidence that could be used. If she were to be seen fleeing with him together, that would be another story.

Of course it was just her luck that they ran into several groups of warriors from the “good” Immortals' side, and all of them got a good look at them both. Or at least as good as possible with each traitor's features hidden under a hood. Still, her skin color stood out, as did her Iron Hand uniform, and the false Eídisi wished she had changed into the leather armor instead. Before the meeting with the Immortals she had opted to wear it instead of the leathers for the sake of standing out. Anyone from Andaris could recognize the uniform, and and would have been able to testify of her presence and accomplishments during her unauthorized break from the Hand. Unfortunately, afterwards she had forgotten about it, even though she had already decided on neutrality. The idiocy of the others must have rubbed off on me, she thought with a scowl, I usually don't make such stupid mistakes.

She wrapped her cloak more tightly around her, having put away her bow in order not to come across as aggressive towards the groups of heroes. That did not mean she did not have a hand gripping the hilt of her blade underneath the cloak though. It was stupid to dive into a group of potential enemies without a weapon at the ready. She nearly whipped it out a couple times to cut down those who would stand between her and her way out, but even the most troublesome warriors could be moved out of the way by just giving them a good push with her shoulder. The Nearikk were less inclined to let them pass however. Yet, even then the few warrior women could be disposed of relatively quick. The shadow beasts posed no threat to them as long as they did not make any hasty movements and stayed off the path, and as such avoiding them was no real accomplishment.

Doran adjusted their course, leading them to the south now, and Yana nodded that she understood. His next question had her shaking her head, even though she had often taken the time to spy behind her. “I have and do not,” she let him know, “but I think it wise to assume we are being tailed. We might just not be able to see them in these conditions.” While mist and snow might keep them from view, so too did it cover Yana and Doran. However, in the snow they left prints, which was a disadvantage. It probably wasn't a bad idea to try and cover them. Though it was not very likely someone had followed them all the way here, the possibility existed, and Yana would rather not be unpleasantly surprised.

“I think it is about time we started to use some diversionary tactics to make us harder to track,” she voiced her concerns, pointing at the prints they had left in the snow. Even if they were filled with fresh white quickly, it was better not to take unnecessary risks. “I suggest we backtrack carefully for a brief period, then each jump as far as possible to a side.” That way the track would suddenly end, and the new tracks would start a couple meters back, far to the side. It should be enough to confuse someone following them.

“From that point move away from the previous track for a bit so they cannot see the new tracks from their position on the old one. After that bit, we continue moving south, separate for at least two bits before we slowly move back to the middle and regroup. Might be best if we speed up when separated. Even if we miss each other, due to one moving faster or slower, the tracks will intersect, and the slower one can still catch up.” She waited for a moment so Doran could agree or disagree, before steadily and carefully placing her feet in previous prints she'd made, careful not to disturb or alter them too much. After a brief while she prepared for a jump, landing about seven feet further in the snow. “Yell 'no' if you are in trouble, I will do the same,” the Yludih instructed before going ahead and following the rest of her plan's steps.