It did not take long to assign the groups. Each leader possesses sufficient knowledge to properly form smaller groups. All were on horseback except one, it took another 4 hours before they first found any trace of their target.
Drag marks of something the size of a teenage child, the broken twigs and the wide array of tracks possibly show signs of resistance. One track became a few as Hellas frown seeing how quickly the spores began to diverge. The black feathered birds under Brandubh's will either fly wildly or sit completely still as they refuse to continue past the grown close forest line.
Before a small stream of water, not even wider than a puddle Hedara halts. "The battle has now begun. Join your assigned groups and meet here again at sundown." The elf commands as she unsheathes her own sword and dismounts off her horse. The forest line warned them of a hard-to-follow track. One impossible on horseback, one filled with spiky bushes and uneven ground. 'Of course, they had to be here.' She curses, still, the sound of the slaver's ship crashing against the unmoving stone cliff would sometimes play in the back of her mind. The feeling of forceful ice-like water rushed down her throat as that old bastard would not let go of her calf.
"May Asariel's fire reach this accursed place."
"They never said we would enter "Old Gallighan's woods."
Whispers of dissatisfaction and curses leave the mouth of many, paladin and noble knight alike seemingly now more deterred than ever to continue their mission.
"Why is everybody complaining?" Sol asks the others of his party. Seeing nothing else but yet another beginning of yet another ugly forest.
"Old Galighan's forest has its tales and history." A voice not belonging to one of his party members replies. Dale instead chooses to fill in, the unknown adventurer. "Some claim the ground in the forest is sentient. Feeding itself on unknowing animals and men alike that attempt to traverse it. Others claim it's a place that was spared of "the first cleanse." All exaggerated tales, no doubt." Dale declares as a paladin shunning the idea that such a lowly place would have escaped the sight of the goddess. Rather he was assured by these different tales, his mentor taught him that a solitary whisper more often than not carries more weight than divergent extravagant tales. Something which Dale wholeheartedly agreed upon, no doubt such tales were spread because it used to be a slaver's smuggling route.
"You forget one." Hedara says whilst still staring at the forest line. "The story that a powerful druid was killed here long ago. The trees and plants feed themselves on the malice of her death. Their fruits carry her whispers and the animals kill themselves as they drink the water made of her tears. It's more local in case you're wondering." Hedara finally turns around, patting her beautiful steed already preparing for her departure. She sighs as she sees the mood dampen even more. "Truth is, we do not know what happened here. The only tale that's truly confirmed is the one of Galighan's hut. For the other tales, this used to be land belonging to the predecessors of the kingdom of Systrich. Hence, the more tragic atmosphere." The elf explains the things she's experienced herself and the things she heard of the first grand duke she served, the human man that saved her life.
"What's the Galighan tale about?" Sol asks, still unsure of how these made-up tales were meant to stop them from tracking. It seemed all so trivial, in Lucille's light enslavement and murder were as common as taking a piss. These slavers and their predecessors could not compare, nor could their tales.
"Let's not speak about that one. We're already late." Hedara responds, dismissing the inquiry. Something she seemed to be used to doing.
"Mercy's Blessing" and Sol were tasked to follow the most western track. With Hellas at the front, they moved carefully and slowly. Their steads are left behind with the others as the thickly grown forest is proven to be difficult to navigate. The uneven surface hidden by its many bushes truly possessing the danger for someone to twist their ankle or worse to stumble and land wrongly on their head.
Luckily for them, the pink-haired ranger was alert. Pointing out any potential dangers as his frowned eyes continue to follow the track. Hellas halts as the sole track diverges into two. "This has to be done on purpose." He announces, causing inquisitive looks to be thrown his way. "It was already strange that the crows could only lead us to some diverging tracks and now there are even more."
"Hellas, speak clearly. What is it exactly that you think?" Tika asks as she already prepares some spells. When their group first started they had once ignored Hellas's warning. Causing them to nearly starve in the southern part of the ashen lands.
"Either the spymaster is playing a strange game or something else is going on here. At the very least they're aware that we're here." The pink-haired ranger announces before he continues to analyze the two tracks. The one on the right was heavier and more volatile, something that could resemble human weight seemed to have been forcefully dragged. Whilst the one on the left is far lighter. Unable to be heavier than a large branch and more importantly too symmetrical to prove any sign of life.
'Assuming that we're still the one doing the chasing, the right one would be more accurate.' Hellas has to assume, hoping that his tracking skill and common sense would be enough, to guide them through this situation. Yet even more than common sense his instincts were speaking to him. Speaking how the roles of prey and hunter had become too vague, too indistinguishable.
Leading his friends and those he considers family, a wandering thought passes through his mind. The face of his sister and how once again she had brought them something quite burdensome. This mission for the grand duke had taken too long and the cost seemingly became heavier at each moment. 'We're almost there. Just a bit longer and everything will be fine.' His thoughts sounded closer to a hopeful prayer.