Shadows of the Abyss

II. Into the Woods

Adéla nodded, signalling to the whole group with a glyph of blue light that appeared in the air ahead of them. It shimmered for a moment, then faded. "I worry that if something happens, voices won't carry." The plan was to keep their mage and Seben in the middle, Zdislav and Rhujag in front, Kamil and the Captain behind. It was the safest for their casters and easiest for them to respond to threats ahead and behind.

"We will do better than the last," Kamil said, resting a comforting hand on Adéla's shoulder as the column started to move.

Rhujag raised an eyebrow. "The last?"

"Our expedition is not the only to have entered the Vale. A month ago, another group led by a mage named Bonifác Svoboda went in. We lost contact with them almost immediately and they have not returned." Adéla pulled a smooth onyx orb about the size of a fist from a pouch at her side. "These allowed us to communicate, both with each other and with Zaeylael. So far, there has been no contact. I suspect that this one will become nothing more than a pretty stone as well."

Seben shifted uncomfortably. "That doesn't sound good."

"They could still be alive and on the mission." Zdislav flashed her a reassuring smile. "We do not have to assume the worst, though we cannot rely on them until we make contact with them again."

The group advanced into the forest, surrounded on all sides by trees grown so thickly together that the only light to escape down to the forest floor was cast in a sickly green shade. It would have been impossible to see more than just dim shapes without the magelight, though, which burned like blue fire on the right shoulder of each man so that no one would lose their illumination, even if they strayed.

It felt eerily timeless without being able to see the sun. Rhujag sniffed the air frequently, shifting his shoulders to loosen them every time he tensed. "This whole place is a khiirdu," he muttered.

Adéla and her spellguards gave him a quizzical look, but it was the mage who spoke up. "That sounds orcish."

"It is," Rhujag said. "There are places in Ash Kordh where the world isn't....right. Maybe it's bigger or smaller than the outside looks, maybe time passes strangely or doesn't pass at all. Creation doesn't flow like it's supposed to in a khiirdu. It's all tangled up, broken up."

Zdislav adjusted the position of his sword at his hip. "How can you tell that you're in one?"

"I've been in them before. They've got a feeling to them, if you know what you're feeling." The orc sighed. "You'd need a shaman to tell you what's really going on."

Their mage closed her eyes and gestured with one hand, mumbling under her breath for a moment. The longer she focused, the more perplexed her expression became. "Rhujag is right. There are more threads of magic here than I've ever seen, and they're all tangled. I don't know enough to know what it's doing, but our senses may be deceived even without glamor." She spoke quietly, audibly only to the four closest to her.

"There are tracks, tracks of boots!" someone called back from the front.

"Bonifác's people?" Captain Dalibor asked. Seben appreciated the veteran commander, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders even if he mostly spoke just to his men.  He was a short, stout man with a bristling beard touched by grey and truly impressive beetling brows.

Rhujag grunted. "It's been a month. Those tracks would be buried."

Dalibor took his knife and scratched a symbol into the bark of a tree that grew beside the road. "We follow, and if we see this again, we know we're going in a circle."

"How could we be going in a circle?" Seben asked. "The path hasn't turned or branched."

"It's not a bad idea," their orc said.