It took Iro about 100 or so paces to exit the tunnel. To his good fortune, it emptied out onto a small unpaved road that ran perpendicular to the tunnel exit, across from a small forest. Here were rows of footprints leading from the tunnel across the road into the copse of trees, before scattering and becoming lost to him amongst the undergrowth of the woods. From the looks of things, this was an ordered retreat, rather than a line break. The makers of the footprints were clearly moving in some semblance of formation in the same direction. You wouldn't expect to see that if the men were running for their lives.
It seemed strange to him that the soldiers would be ordered through the woods, rather than in ordered units down the road. Was there something on the road that made that decision ill-advised?
He wasn't about to the risk of finding out. At least not yet. There was no guarantee he wouldn't end up walking for 20 miles and ending up nowhere, and while the limited light from the moon didn't grant a huge amount of visibility, from what he could see from where he was standing there wouldn't be any concealment from prying eyes if he followed it, either. No, probably better to trust the bootmarks of the retreating soldiers, friendly or not. At least they were more likely to lead him to shelter and possibly civilization.
Iro crossed the rise of the road, and down the other side into the darkness beneath the copse of trees. The rain had stopped again a short while before, and a bit of fog was beginning to blanket the ground as he entered. While it give him some degree of additional concealment, he found that it served to obscure the lenses of his eyes with moisture, and on more than one occasion as he crept through the forest floor he had to stop to wipe them on the sleeves of his borrowed uniform.
Iro crept slowly through the forest, doing his best to keep a low profile and minimize his sound output. Having a metal body he wasn't used to, and an apparently limited ability to feel, made this more than a little difficult. Thankfully, the rainwater falling from the leaves, the rustle of branches, and the sound of various night-time birds offset this.
After about 15 minutes of slow, methodical movement in what he assumed was the general direction of the retreat, Iro found himself picking his way up a steep incline, having to use his hands on several occasions to keep himself from tumbling back down the slippery side of the leaf-covered hill. He crested the rim of the hill cautiously, and took cover behind a large stone at the base of a moss-covered tree.
A couple hundred feet ahead of his current position, the trees thinned out into what looked like a large field, with another hill rising to one end. Behind and to the right of the hill, he saw what looked like a campfire in the distance, surrounded by half a dozen or so canvas tents. Past that camp, he saw several more lights past the first. These must be the lights I saw, then, Iro thought to himself. Now, what to do?
What fragments of military life he could remember told him the camps probably kept lookouts in shifts all night long, so it'd probably be almost impossible for him to approach outside of the treeline without being spotted. And with it being night, he guessed that the welcome he'd receive as a random stranger would be less than pleasant, especially given his circumstances. He needed more information. And a plan.
Iro lowered himself down closer to the forest floor and slowly crept closer to the forest's edge, working to make as little noise as possible. He froze for a moment and ducked into the shadows beneath a large bush when something snapped somewhere to his right, behind him. He looked around furtively for several seconds, but saw nothing but the trunks of trees and bits of undergrowth. Probably an animal, or just some old branch breaking loose. Once he was sure the coast was clear, Iro turned his attention back to the clearing.
Reaching close to the forest's edge, he peered out from behind a large patch of cover, listening and watching the camp intently for several minutes. While he could hear signs of camp life from the further lights, to his surprise, no one seemed to occupy the closest camp, despite the lit fire. The seats around the fire sat empty, and not a single shred of sound or movement came from the circle, save the faint crackling of the fire and flapping of tent canvas. The tents themselves sat empty as well, from the looks of things.
Odd.
Very Odd.
Maybe the soldiers had gone off to join one of the other groups?
He didn't like blindly walking into an empty camp while the occupants were away. The idea made him uneasy. But it might be his opportunity to grab some extra supplies, and give him a better chance to figure out who he was dealing. Besides, he figured, I'm wearing a friendly uniform. Who's gonna assume he's an enemy at a distance in this outfit? He glanced quickly and carefully to his left and right, looking for some other clue he missed, but saw nothing but the rustling leaves and swaying branches of trees, and heard nothing but scattered birdsong and the rustling of some small animal off in the bushes to his left. He slowly rose back to his feet, and went to take a step out of the forest and into the clearing.
"That's far enough." A soft male voice spoke behind him. He felt something cold and metal press gently but firmly against his back, and heard the click of what sounded like a rifle bolt.
Iro froze.
Shit. So much for the camp being abandoned.
He tried to slowly turn his head backwards to see who had gotten the jump on him. The object in his back pressed in more firmly this time, and he felt himself pushed off balance.
"Ah-ah. Eyes forward, friend." The voice said. "Now, drop the rifle."
Iro hesitated, and the object jammed more firmly into his back.
"Drop it. Don't make me ask again." The voice said, an edge of malice creeping into it for the first time.
"Very well." Iro said. The feeling of his voice exiting from behind his face-plate, rather than from a mouth, felt strange and sounded stranger. Like himself, but metallic... and monotone. He added that to the list of things to get used to, provided he didn't end up with a spell-slug in his back after this. He held the rifle out to the side in his right hand, and slowly lowered it to the ground before raising back up and putting his metal hands into the air.
"Very good." The voice said, a bit more chipper. "Now, Gunter, if you please..."
"Viz pleazure, pointy earz." Another voice said, much deeper and rougher than the other. Iro saw something move out of the bushes to his left, and turned his head just in time to see a stocky shape raise its arms.
"Sleep well." The soft voice said, as a jet of lightning launched from the stocky shape's hands and Iro's world went white.