Chapter 28: 2.9 – Secrets of Wyndham Wood

The scent of sweat and sweet grass was sharp in Robin’s nostrils as he slowly crept through the wood. Eli moved next to him on silent feet, rippling through the bracken as silent as light on water. Robin really, really, wanted to get his hands on some kind of cleansing spell. He’d hated the feel of deep long-lasting grime growing up on the farm and that fact hadn’t changed, though the world around him certainly had.

They weren’t far from the bladebeaks’ clearing. Robin could see the gentle swell of the hill through the trees around him. The day was clear and just growing past morning.

The two of them had spent time watching the bladebeaks and consulting both Eli’s spotty knowledge of the creatures and the records in the tower interface. Neither were extensive repositories of lore, but they had provided enough of a base to refine their plan.

Eli gestured to Robin before slinking off to circle around the hill. Robin headed in the opposite direction until the bladebeak’s nest was just in view. Then he proceeded to haul himself up a convenient tree and wedge himself into a position with excellent line of sight but hopefully out of reach of the large and violent birds.

He had some time before Eli would be in position, but it was time to set the scene. Robin was of the opinion that illusions were like ghost stories—they worked best if the audience was in an appropriate frame of mind. And if they weren’t already there, you needed to create that state.

Robin twisted his hand through the motions of [Lesser Phantasm], chaining several castings together in a row as he concentrated. This would be better if the cantrip had longer range, but he’d just have to make do with it as it was.

The sound of a hollow wind and the rustling of leaves rushed through the clearing. There was no motion of the grass or branches accompanying it, but Robin was banking on the bladebeaks being too animalistic to notice that little out-of-place detail. They did have bird brains, after all!

Faintly, the sound of wolves howling in the distance threaded through the wind. Robin could see the bladebeaks suddenly tense, their heads perking up. The sharp edges of their beaks turned this way and that as they moved their heads to follow the sound.

So far, so good. Next step. Robin conjured the illusion of wolfish scent. Not too strong, not yet. Just enough to reinforce the illusion and the mindset he was creating in the birds. The smaller of the bladebeaks squawked a challenge as the larger drew back to hover over the nest.

Robin frowned. Something wasn’t quite right. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but those were the howls of arctic wolves, rather than the forest variety, and the scent needed to be earthier, loamier, to really trigger the bladebeaks’ instinctual responses. He passed his hands through several more castings of [Lesser Phantasm], correcting the sensory details.

There. Both bladebeaks were uneasy, their feathers ruffling out in an intimidation display. If they hadn’t looked big enough before…Robin shoved the thought away. They were still birds.

A flash of blue caught his eye. Eli was in position. Robin increased the volume of the wolf howls and the intensity of the scent. The bladebeaks made a chuffing sound deep in their throat, like the roar of a car, and slashed the air a bit with the blades on their faces.

Time to start in with [Chronicle of Infinite Visions]. The fact that he could cast it at will, with no need for words or gestures or anything else was so amazingly useful. It allowed him to both keep his grip on the tree and reinforce the overall illusion with regular [Lesser Phantasms].

Robin concentrated and a shadow dashed through the underbrush near the bristling birds. Though the leaves didn’t move, it sounded like they did.

It was enough. The bladebeaks went berserk, trilling out a great, honking battle cry and whipping their heads around to look for the enemy.

Robin sent another shadow dashing through the trees, further away this time, nearer the larger of the two birds. He followed it quickly by some more howling and more dashing shadows. Slowly, the birds were drawn apart from one another and, more importantly, further from their nest.

Small flashes of colour kept him appraised of Eli’s progress. The cleric was as close as he could get without stepping out from his cover and into the clearing.

But he couldn’t safely do so while the bladebeaks remained so close to the nest.

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‘Come on, bird brain,’ Robin muttered. ‘Take the fight to the wolves.’

Bladebeaks were territorial, especially around nesting time, and had a habit of attacking or rushing potential threats to their eggs or young. It was equal parts scare tactics and equal parts just pure, lethal aggression. After all, if the birds managed to catch the threat, that was dinner they didn’t have to otherwise hunt or scavenge for.

He had to take a risk. Robin mentally mapped out the series of steps he’d need to take, estimated the timing, then put his plan into action.

A deep, guttural growl—almost a roar—came out of the wood, and a wolf dashed out to nip at the larger of the two bladebeaks. As the image snapped and snarled around the bird’s legs (courtesy of [Lesser Phantasm]), Robin shouted out an insult, reinforcing it with [Cutting Words].

‘If your beak is as dull as your brain, I’d be surprised if you could even cut cheese with that thing!’

He wasn’t expecting it to do much. The bird couldn’t understand him. It should be able to understand pain though, and the most obvious cause of that pain was the illusory wolf nipping at it.

The bird squealed in fury and lashed out at the wolf. Robin sent a knife of pain through his left eye, focusing hard to make the wolf dodge that blow. His Concentration skill was getting a serious workout. He needed to invest more points in it the next chance he got.

The wolf darted away, back into the forest and behind a tree. Robin was already rushing up against the movement limitations on [Visual Phantasm], though he could get around them a bit by chain casting.

The bladebeak shrieked in fury and pursued, crashing through the bracken. Before it was too far out of Robin’s range of sight (the trees were not his friend here), he conjured another illusory wolf just ahead of the bird, keeping it running away.

One down, one to go. Robin refocused his attention into the clearing but didn’t see the other bird. Eli was crouched by the nest, hefting the massive eggs into specially-prepared bags padded with dried grass and strips torn from the leftover bedclothes in the tower. Robin trusted the priest to know it was safe to go after the eggs, but if he was there, where was the other bladebeak?

A screech of rage tipped him off. There is was! Sprinting right towards him!

Somehow it had sensed or spotted him. The bladebeak charged through the edges of the forest encircling the hill, dodging around the trees. That thing was fast. It was at the base of Robin’s tree before he could come up with a plan, and it ended its mad dash by slamming itself wildly into the trunk of the tree.

The whole thing shook. Robin felt his centre of gravity shift, felt himself begin to fall. He grabbed for the nearest branches to steady himself.

He missed.

Robin tumbled out of the tree, limbs flailing wildly. Fortunately, he managed not to land on the ground in a vulnerable position Unfortunately, the place he did land was arguably more dangerous.

He landed right on the bladebeak’s back. Habits honed over the years of riding bareback on the farm kicked in and he hooked his legs around the bird and clung to its back for dear life.

Literally. If he fell off this thing, it would kick him to death with its powerful legs, slash him to ribbons with its wicked beak, or worse. Of course at that moment, a blue notification box chose to blaze across his vision.

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