The Endless Forest

Two days later, twenty-three days remain.

Torm had spent the last few days watching and observing the elves who had gathered around the Dragon Queen's manor. He had been patient, biding his time and learning everything he could. And there was a lot to learn…

On his first day, the very day he had teleported to the manor, he had spied on everyone and everything. To his surprise, it hadn't just been elves who were coming here in large numbers. There were gnomes and dwarves as well.

That concerned him, of course. He had been– No, was a trader and the dwarves in particular knew him well because of that. In fact, he was more well known by them than by his own elven kin… Probably.

However, none of that meant that no other elf knew of his face. Plenty did but those were mostly the various Chiefs and their direct underlings.

Thankfully, that was a while ago…

He had been successful in avoiding being discovered. The various groups of hunters had a certain path they took and rarely hunted near the edges of the clearing. A blessing to be sure.

However, despite his seemingly natural ability to hide and observe, one thing became clear to him. He would need to get closer, to interact with people.

For him to complete his master's will, he would need information. There was only so much one could glean from simply observing from afar. But how? How would he get closer without being noticed, or worse, recognized?

It turned out, that wasn't nearly as big of a problem as he had feared.

While he spent his time of that first day watching, he had effectively circled the entire clearing. And, while doing so, he came across a small pond. It was during the second day that he went back to it. A simple look in its reflection showed him the truth.

He looked nothing like his previous self.

Gaunt, bruised, and wild hair made him look like a madman. His clothes were beyond ruined and he smelled. It was a horrid attack on his senses, on his eyes, his nose, and even his skin. But, it would help him blend in.

The elves were hard at work, constructing something of great size. The men and women who toiled away were hardly well kept themselves. All he had to do was address a few glaring issues…

A dunk in the pond solved…some of those issues. Enough that he could pass off as simply slovenly. It would have to do.

The next problem was more complicated. How to get close? Too many people were around, save for in the dead of night, and someone might easily notice him. Especially if he were to scrounge around for supplies. And that was yet another problem.

Torm was hungry and he would need food rather soon, else he would starve. That would mean getting even closer, however. And it appeared food was only served at specific points of the day. Everyone would be there and that meant someone could notice him.

Indecision tormented him for all of that second day. He weighed his options, he came up with complicated plans and alibis. All of which he scrapped for one reason or another…

As night fell, rage began to consume him once more. His fury directed at everyone, and for good reason. They were responsible for his predicament. They did nothing as he suffered.

To make it worse, he knew those damn dragon eggs were here. Though, while not certain of their exact location, they could only be here. Where else could they be?

For a moment, he pulled out the crystals his master had given him. He pondered if there were some way he could ignore his orders and set them off early. Frankly, he didn't care if he lived or died. He only wanted to take out those Gods forsaken eggs.

Alas, it was to no avail. He saw no way to get around his orders and that meant he would have to continue suffering for a while longer…

Giving up, Torm tried to sleep. He tried to shut off his mind. He tried to forget. But that was when he caught wind of his big break.

In the distance, somewhere in the brush. He discovered two elves…enjoying themselves. He decided to spy on them and by the time he found them, they were already done with their business and were discussing the events of the day.

He learned a lot then, including his chance to infiltrate the elven camp. It turned out another large group of elves would be arriving and the coronation would be soon. He also learned that a new dragon had been hatched…

That made his blood boil even more. But now he had something to go off on, a way to scheme and weasel his way into the coronation. It did mean he would have to take a risk, though…

***

Upon dawn, Torm found himself waking up within a warm tent. His belly was full and he had on new clothes. All in all, he was feeling refreshed.

Upon his discovery, he took a gamble in the early hours of the morning and snuck into the elven camp. It turned out to be the right play.

Because the new arrivals were expected, items had been laid out and prepared. To his amazement, it included tents, clothes, various supplies…even some useful tools. He patted at his side, where a knife was tucked within.

But, most importantly, he found food.

Actual food.

Not trail rations. Not gruel. Food. Dried meats, sausage– Anything that could be stored in a barrel. He had even found a stew pot simmering… He ate to his heart's content.

But now, he was awake and would soon need to execute the next stage of his plan…

Watcher narrowed his eyes. Something felt off, wrong. The only problem? He had not received any visions or warnings from his Goddess. His Master's Master had always warned him…

Not right. Watcher no like. Despite not having any signs, he trusted his instincts. He was Watcher after all, the one who sees and protects and guards.

With a simple command, he sent his kobolds throughout the clearing and manor. They were to be alert at all times, to search for any signs of danger…

Stolen story; please report.

Felix frowned, upset by the scene before him. Who would do this?

"They even ate half the stew!" A voice shouted. It was Yedril and he was busy staring into a large pot.

"What didn't they eat?" he asked, coming over to better survey the damage. Scraps of food laid all over the ground, leaving a small trail that eventually vanished towards the larger of two camps.

"That's not all they took," a new person added with an icy tone.

He looked over and found Oralyn approaching, righteous fury in her eyes. Behind her, Morzan followed with bits of meat stuck to his snout.

Felix held back a smirk at the dragon and addressed the elven woman. "I noticed… Apparently they took some clothes, tossing a bunch into the dirt."

"They also took a tent," she added, folding her arms.

That caused him to raise an eyebrow before scanning over the camp in the background. "A…tent? Did someone set fire to theirs or something?"

She shook her head. "I don't know…yet. But I will find out. And when I do…" She trailed off.

"Well, hang on a second. What were all these supplies doing here in the first place?"

"They were leftovers from when the dwarves arrived. I thought it wise to bring them out seeing that we would be getting new arrivals soon."

"And the food was for them as well," Yedril added with a huff. "I spent days getting all those dried meats ready."

"New arrivals?" Felix asked, unsure what Oralyn meant.

"Yes, new arrivals. Haven't you heard? More people are coming. Actually, one of the Sages should be heading out shortly to retrieve them."

Shit, I don't remember that… "Where in the Hells are we going to put them?" he asked aloud, gesturing to the sea of tents already taking up the clearing.

Oralyn had an unbothered look as she answered. "Well, Hargoth has finished clearing the area above the Sanctuary. We can put them there for now. My main concern right now is who did this?" Her icy tone returned.

"Yeah," Yedril added, interjecting. "And what glutton ate all the food? There was enough for everyone."

Felix put a hand up to his chin. Something about all this didn't sit well with him. "For me, it's not so much that they took without asking, so much that they left such a mess. It's like they were stealing, not realizing it was free."

"It's not free, Felix… Those supplies were for charity– To be given out to those who have not," Oralyn corrected.

"And the food was meant for those who would be starving after a long trek," Yedril commented, backing her up.

"Okay, okay… I get it," Felix said, throwing his hands up defensively. He took a deep breath before adding, "See what you can find out and let me know– Don't worry Eri about this either. She's busy rehearsing a speech, apparently."

Oralyn gave him a nod. "I'm aware. However, don't you have something you need to do?"

He went rigid. "I-I do?"

She pulled out her journal and flipped through multiple pages before stopping at one. "Yes. The Chiefs have requested your audience. Specifically, Chief Yorlen."

He did? "What for?"

"To prepare you for tomorrow!" she shouted, her ire now directed at him.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the big day, for both him and Eri. He gulped. "Right… I'll be honest, I sort of forgot–"

"How could you forget?! Do you understand how important this all is?!"

He winced, taking a subtle step back from her. Meanwhile, Yedril decided it was time to disappear. "I'm just gonna go and, uh, clean up this mess…"

"T-that's not what I meant! I mean with getting everything ready– There's a lot that I'm juggling here!" Felix argued back.

Oralyn's brows furrowed. "And there's going to be more to juggle soon. I hope you understand that."

"I know… Just– Look, I'm trying. This is all new to me. Honestly, without you, both Eri and I would be lost."

"Really? Because you still seem lost," she muttered before shaking her head. "Anyway, I will handle this. You will go find Chief Yorlen."

***

"Felix! I was wondering where you were," Chief Yorlen called out. He was standing before a familiar tent.

Felix gave a smile to the elf. "Morning, and sorry. Something came up and I had to go check it out."

Yorlen gave him a curious look. "Would it have anything to do with the kobolds?"

"Kobolds?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, they've been acting strange since dawn. I've had several complaints about them already. They set up near the Hatchery and bother anyone who goes near it– Which is a problem because the portal is there."

He shook his head. "First I've heard of it–" But maybe it's related? "I'll speak to them later and find out what's going on. But as for the problem I had to deal with, someone apparently stole from the supplies that were meant for the next wave of people."

"I see." Chief Yorlen frowned. "I pray that it wasn't anyone from my village."

Felix waved the concern away. "I doubt it was anyone from Bernel. Honestly, it was probably some drunkard. But, Oralyn is looking into it, so we'll know soon enough."

"Good, she is quite the capable woman. I am happy to see she was chosen to hatch an egg, and succeed."

"You know her well?" he asked, a little surprised by the Chief's comments.

Yorlen gave a half-shrug. "Yes and no. I know her father well… I'm sure he's told you all about their history. Anyway, we are wasting time and there's quite a bit we have to do. Come." The chief turned around and made for the tent's entrance.

Quickly following, he ducked and passed through the flaps before coming to a stop. Before him were two other Chieftains, Chief Oslen and Chief Herrin.

"Hello, Felix," Oslen said casually. Meanwhile, Herrin had a frustrated look and was directing it to Chief Yorlen.

"What was that about me telling him about my family's lineage?" he asked, folding his arms.

Yorlen let out a chuckle. "Nothing, I was merely explaining how proud you were of it…"

Felix decided to respond to Oslen as the two began bickering. "Hello. Wasn't expecting you or Herrin to help."

"Ah, Chief Yorlen asked for our…assistance."

The tone of his voice made Felix narrow his eyes suspiciously. "And…what do you mean by that?"

Suddenly, two different hands landed upon his shoulders. Chief Herrin began to speak. "You see, Felix, it is quite clear to us that you still lack a proper understanding of your place…"

He gulped as Yorlen took over. "You are marrying our Queen…"

"Yet you look like a peasant," Chief Oslen added. "We can't have that."

"But… My clothes are quite fine–"

"Admittedly they are…adequate," Herrin begrudgingly agreed. "But there is more to a consort than their clothes."

Yorlen appeared in front of him, nodding. "For example…" He pulled Felix uncomfortably close and inspected his face. "You've ignored certain other parts of your appearance."

Oslen gave him a wicked smile. "What we're saying is that–"

He found himself being guided over to a chair and forced into it.

"–You need a shave."