Since enemy forces have likely seen them, Tric leads his group farther from those battlelines, which means heading up into the hills. Heppa mounts up, allowing Butterbell to handle the steeper terrain for her, but Tric stays on the ground walking alongside the new arrival. Eventually, when they are definitely out of sight of the previous threat, she drops her disguise with the stamp of a foot. In place of the tan-skinned blonde in a white robe stands an olive-complected woman with bluish-white hair held back by a brown bandana that matches her functional leathers. The bandolier across her chest makes it now clear where the throwing knives came from.
Rhaessa’s sudden change into Heledd startles Endathalas so badly that Milquetoast—already not enjoying the rough incline—rears up in response. This sends her rider tumbling. The hillside is steep enough that Endathalas keeps rolling down it, struggling to find purchase among the rocks. Tric, who had thought the reveal would make for an amusing prank, now feels a stab of guilt about not having warned Endathalas. Heppa responds more swiftly than he does. She had not put her wand away, and now she brings it to bear again, summoning all of the plant life in the area to writhe and thicken. The leaves and stalks grab at Endathalas, arresting his slide and giving him purchase for climbing back up to his companions.
While they are paused here, Heppa takes a moment to survey the battlefield from this new angle. She is particularly interested in the orcish forces, since she has so little experience of that species. There are several distinct groups, each with their own encampment and own set of flags. There is a set of tattered purple rectangles and another of white squares. The orcs bearing orange triangles, however, are intermingled with undead forces. That unit, at least, is comfortable enough working with undead to be mixed in among them. Heppa calls her cousin over and points this out.
Tric confirms that this matches details Kachen shared of his experience; the detachment of goblins holding him prisoner had such flags. The orcish forces associated with his capture are now allied with undead rather than overrun by them. Tric frowns. “That’s bad news. I was hoping they’d be fighting each other.” Kachen had been worried his journals might fall into the hands of someone who could use them; it looks like they probably did. “They’ve been reading his notes,” Tric says glumly. “Do not underestimate the orcs! We may have an orcish necromancer on our hands. Or an orcish shadow mage.”
“I thought only humans could become necromancers,” Endathalas comments, joining them at the overlook as he dusts off his leathers. He glances nervously over at the human magic user now traveling with them, wondering what her true form might be.
“That is a commonly believed myth,” Heppa tells him.
“Humans perfected necromancy, it’s true,” Tric allows. “But it is unfortunately something that many species are capable of falling prey to.”
Those orange flags are what they need to reach. Between them and the flat, open terrain where the orcish encampment is are some swamps, however. Tric wonders whether Hezzis’s nemesis Sprizz really is actually here. Even if the orcs did not hire her, she might just be trying to take advantage of all the chaos. Regardless, his team has to go through that mire.