“That’s the grandfather tree,” Syn sneered with clear disappointment as her eyes ran up the trunk to get lost in its lofty branches. It was clearly ancient, and massive, but not the titan she had imagined. “Not that,” Torryn smirked, taking her by the shoulders and turning from the age-old oak that stood in the heart of the Tree Ghosts’ camp to point her in the right direction as he announced; “That!” Looking upward, over the forest canopy, she found herself craning her neck backward as far as she could to see the top of what must be the single greatest oak in all of Faerun as she gasped in awe; it stood hundreds of feet tall and covered just as great an area with its massive branches, throughout which twinkled so many lanterns that they formed their own constellation. “What have we here Dark Wolf… did you taken in a stray?” Torryn turned to face the familiar voice with a sly smile, knowing Syn would chafe at the reference. “Stray… I’m no “stray”!” she snapped as she turned to confront the tall, muscular, but still clearly feminine, barbarian beauty who was marked as Uthgardt as clearly by her fair skin, pale blue eyes and rich dark hair as her accent, and scowled; “I’m lady Syntorri, bladesinger of house Mistrivvin!” “Well I apologize… my lady,” Leela taunted with feign admiration as she mocked a courtly bow. “However could I have mistaken you for a lost little elf-maid found wandering aimlessly in the woods? Oh yes, I know how… that’s what you are!” “That’s enough,” Torryn grinned as he stepped between the two beauties; the last thing he needed was this to escalated into a cat-fight right in the middle of the camp. Syn fumed, but held her tongue as she glared at Leela, who flashed a taunting smile at her, before addressing Torryn; “Longtooth invites you to stay the night and join us for dinner… only fitting since you provided it.” Before arriving in camp, he’d downed a buck large enough to feed all two hundred people here and presented it to the Tree Ghosts’ chieftain, Gunther Longtooth; although not a stranger to the Uthgardt camp, and as welcomed here as anywhere else, he always found providing dinner made for a warmer reception. Leela lead them to a tent set aside for visitors and ushered them into the simple domed structure of bent wooden supports and tanned hides, quipping with a mischievous grin; “If my lady needs anything, please feel free to call upon us common folk… I’m sure someone will come running to your beacon call.” Torryn silenced Syn’s response with a raised hand as he stared down the mocking barbarian beauty, who turned and left with a satisfied smile. Banking down her anger, Syn surveyed the shelter; the reality of all she had left behind in Everlund finally settling in on her. Torryn was right… titles, noble blood and honors meant nothing in this forest… if she was to be accepted here she would have to prove her worth.