The trees in Neverwinter Wood were all massive, and most were kinds Aoko had never seen before, or at least types that only vaguely resembled those on Earth—similar, but with completely different details.
"Forge has been cutting down swathes of Neverwinter Wood," Simon said. "The druids of the Emerald Enclave are resisting the Neverwinter army, but not very effectively—they've only managed to slow the logging. So I bet Doric and her companions are near the city side of the forest."
"Why is Forge logging the forest?" Edgin asked. "Planning to make wooden crafts to sell in other cities?"
"I doubt it's that simple," Aoko shook her head. "Based on the wood, these trees are better suited for shipbuilding. And with Sofina behind Forge, the timber's probably for warships. Are they planning a sea campaign?"
"I doubt it," Simon replied. "Maybe you don't know as an outsider, but Neverwinter can barely fend off Luskan. How could they invade anyone else? Especially as a member of the Lords' Alliance—if Neverwinter tried, they'd be attacked by everyone."
"That's assuming Sofina isn't backed by some larger power," Aoko reminded them. "What if the warships aren't for Neverwinter, but Neverwinter is just serving as a port and shipyard? This is the City of Skilled Hands—manufacturing here is cheap."
No one replied to Aoko—her scenario was too frightening. The three instinctively didn't want to admit her logic, but couldn't find a counter-argument, so they stayed silent.
After about two hours heading northwest through the forest, they finally found traces of people. As they approached carefully, they saw a group of Neverwinter soldiers reading out charges against a non-elf.
"In the name of Lord Forge Fitzwilliam!" a soldier shouted. "This prisoner is sentenced to dismemberment for gross disrespect toward the leader!"
The female wood elf, bound to a post, glared at her accusers with hatred, as if to burn them into her soul for vengeance after death.
Besides the soldiers, a few local farmers and vagrants watched, likely dragged in for the crowd.
"Emerald Enclave never retreats!" the elf yelled. "Justice can never be silenced!"
The soldiers didn't care what she said—what mattered was whether they'd get paid after carrying out the order.
To these city folk, killing a forest-dwelling savage was trivial—if they could, they'd rather not be here at all.
"Your Doric seems a bit extreme," Edgin whispered to Simon. "Are you sure about her?"
"Oh, that's not Doric," Simon shook his head, signaling Edgin to keep watching.
Just as the armored knight drew his sword to execute the elf, his horse suddenly refused to obey, throwing the knight to the ground.
The horse's body started to swell, its hooves morphing into bear-like claws, white feathers sprouting from its body.
"Attention! Close combat, it's an owlbear!" the squad leader shouted.
"Haha, that's Doric," Simon said happily, pointing at the rampaging beast pummeling the Neverwinter soldiers.
"Owlbears are monsters, aren't they?" Aoko frowned. "How can a druid turn into an owlbear?"
"Well, you'll have to ask Doric herself," Simon replied. "I don't get druid mechanics."
No wonder she dumped you, Aoko thought. If you don't even know how the goddess can turn into an owlbear, how could you win her heart?
Doric, as an owlbear, beat up the five soldiers, and then smashed the execution post, freeing the elf.
She then shifted back to human form, leaped onto a real warhorse, grabbed her elf companion, and rode off. The whole thing was quick and clean.
"Professional," was Aoko's verdict.
"Can she turn into a deer?" Holga wondered.
"Should we kill all the soldiers?" Aoko suggested.
"...That's a bit much," Edgin said, "They're just ordinary Neverwinter soldiers."
"But they might report seeing us looking for Doric to Forge and Sofina," Aoko said. "But it's your call."
"Let's leave it," Edgin sighed. "They were focused on Doric, not us. We'd better catch up to her—we don't know the Enclave's exact base."
Strictly speaking, the Emerald Enclave wasn't a purely druidic group, but a loose organization of wildlanders: barbarians, druids, rangers, and the like.
They aimed to restore and maintain the natural order, destroy all that is unnatural, watch for elemental forces, and keep a balance between civilization and the wild—a not-so-extreme environmental group, in Aoko's eyes.
The Enclave's base in Neverwinter Wood wasn't the organization's headquarters, just an outpost monitoring Neverwinter's activities and expansion. The highest-ranking member here was only a Summerstrider. (Aside from "spring, summer, autumn, winter," the leader is titled "Master of the Wild.")
Aoko and her party soon caught up—or rather, Simon never took his eyes off Doric. But Doric herself had poor counter-surveillance skills and only noticed them when they entered the Enclave's treetop camp.
"Don't move!" Doric, seeing them behind her, immediately drew her wrist-sling, watching cautiously.
"Wait, it's me!" Simon quickly raised his hands in a salute. "Simon!"
"Simon who?" Doric didn't relax; she clearly didn't remember this poor guy.
"Simon Aumar, sorcerer, remember?" Simon edged closer, giving up his ranged advantage to lower her guard.
But to Aoko, Doric probably still didn't remember, or only vaguely did—maybe as a passing acquaintance.
"Look, I even tried to court you," Simon said thick-skinned. "Of course, you turned me down, but I never did anything bad to you..."
"…," Doric seemed to finally recall, lowering her sling. "So why are you looking for me?"
"We need a deer," Holga blurted out.
"We don't need a deer," Simon denied.
"We need a skilled shapeshifter," Aoko summed up succinctly.
"We want to take down Forge Fitzwilliam," Edgin, ever the bard, used his charisma.
"...Fine, come with me," Doric finally relented, inviting them to the Enclave meeting hall for a proper talk.