Deep in a land covered in infernal blizzard, down the deep dark abyss of darkness hanging over dried roots of trees having been lifted or swept up before planting back down--the covered agony cries of souls long gone by--stands a lone tree awaiting to be seen. Yet not spoken or hath been thy marked, it awaits its presence to be spotted.

Meanwhile a group of dead-covered Veilhorns were wandering near the borders of Waldsterben, the entrance to Todeswald and the first gate of the kingdom, Dragon's Bitterweed looked around at the first gate; hesitation evident in his paused steps.

Zeranthyis looked at Dragon and rolled her eyes as she huffed, not very impressed by the dead deer's hesitancy to continue onwards towards their destination, "of course the deer stops just before we're almost done with our task. Of course!" She wails in a mocking tone to Bitterweed, trying to make him move without provoking him to be aggressive.

"Be nice to Dragon's Bitterweed, Zeranthyis, he hasn't been to the kingdom before in his entire life. Give him some slack for finding it new to himself, we don't know where we're going either. Hm?" Necromancer lifted his head up high, tail flicking in defiance, he's challenging her to speak back to him--but she does not, knowing the better option is to comply.

"Where does this trail even lead into?" Zeranthyis asked, quickly looking at Lich King instinctively, tilting her head at him--despite being the most spookiest thing around, the other three don't seem to mind him at all--rather they seem him as just another wanderer of the dead. That's what the three are together anyways.

The Lich King remains silent, his blood red eyes distant as his head is pointed to the ground, then he looks at the three dead horses staring back at him; awaiting an answer to Zeranthyis question, because they do not know themselves, but they asked HIM in case he knew. If he did, that is.

"Todeswald, I knew it before but never knew if it did truly exist, I haven't wandered from Necrofen in a good long while." The Lich King spoke, regal yet tired with something he carries with him--something the others can't understand, if they did they'd, too, feel how he felt. Necromancer's eyes gleam before he looked down in distant memory--he might be carrying something similar, if he, too, felt that emotion he picked up on.

"Let us be off, we haven't the time to talk all day." The Lich King suddenly perked up and started moving, Zeranthyis smirked at the two others before moving off to follow The Lich King, she was quick on her feet.

Dragon and Necromancer glance at other, but do not ask questions as they catch up and follow behind, though they hold suspicion--Dragon's Bitterweed more than Necromancer to be exact, yet the undead purple Veilhorn still holds some to his heart closely.

~-~

As the group of four wander past the gates of Waldsterben, the magical seal holding the veil open switches to a barrier after the four made it past a few trees--intending on keeping them inside for as long as they can be kept inside whilst making their journey towards Todeswald together.

Zeranthyis wanders her head at the flora sprouting around, skeletal plants and see-through pods from flowers, the kingdom of Todeswald thrives in being a dead place--the most literal form anything can make, especially literal skeleton plants sitting around the trail leading to the Kingdom of Todeswald.

Dragon's Bitterweed sighs heavily, thinking about his love and how far he's wandered away from her, Necromancer picks up but does not say anything to the dead deer--instead, choosing to be silent as much as he can be--Bitterweed picks up on that slight motion before losing the narrowing of his black eyes and the furrow of his eyebrows.

Zeranthyis glances curiously between the two stallions, tilting her head as she decided to canter up next to The Lich King, studying him more closely as she wondered why he looks like what he does: Intimidating to others, but very cool in her and the others' eyes, she still has that question in the back of her head. Yet she dares not to speak about it still.

The Lich King glances every so often at Zeranthyis, focusing on moving forward towards Todeswald, yet Zeranthyis' curious gaze leaves him a little incremental himself at her: How she carries herself as if she's another living horse, how she's so bratty yet defiant to challenge others--she's like she's still alive, but she is not anymore--that is what Lich King can gauge from Zeranthyis without showing much to give what he's feeling on the inside; burden despite the others' un-judging stares.

Soon, the group stumbles upon a fork in the road; shaped like a dragon's tongue with sharp rocks outlining teeth next to the trail and stopping just before the forked tongue in the road, Necromancer steps forward instinctively. Putting himself in front of the others, a challenge in his eyes. Dragon's Bitterweed matches Necro's challenge, just with a little more intimidation.

Then a roar growls out before a young mare lands down in front of the group, her appearance being entirely a Veilhorn yet she looks like a mix between a deer and a dragon instead, her golden filigrees covering all four of her pasterns, a large crested gem covering her chest and beautifully swirling around her head with bits floating around the outside. And a small crested filigee swirling around her horn and behind her ears--as if she's wearing a naturally made crown born from her own body, with golden flecks spotted on her neck and rump; beautiful yet dangerous.

"Who dares to cross the forked Trail of Hostility?" The young mare growled at the group of four, stepping forward aggressively, her scaled tail swishing around--her tail fin ending in small spines that decorate her tail fin like a doily, cute yet dangerous as well. The mare does not seem friendly.

"We are The Lich King's Convent, and we are to escort him to a kingdom named Toadswald safely!" Zeranthyis jumps over the group, landing in front of Necromancer guarding the group with fierce protectiveness, she turns her head back to the other mare; watching the deer dragon with efficient defiance.

"Todeswald." Dragon's Bitterweed meekly corrects Zeranthyis, whom gives him a glare in return for the quiet correction, at least he tried his best in providing accurate information.

"So, basically death it is then?" The young mare smirks, hissing at the group as her ridged straight, blood colored horn glows brightly at the group, pebbles on the ground being picked up by nothing in the air; the mare slowly lifts into the air before transforming into a giant dragon version of herself; just more scaly, still a little deer-color in there but a little more tension in the air now. "Fight me!" The mare roared at the group.

Necromancer sighs as he looks at the group and Zeranthyis, grabbing the roan-and-skull-faced mare and pulling her back just before fire could rain down on herself, he putting Zeranthyis behind Dragon's Bitterweed as he turned around and galloped towards the Veilhorn-turned-dragon.

His eyes glowing as he summoned a full coating of metal armor, gold and obsidian fused, impervious to attacks, yet also runic symbols glowing as he aimed his hardened bony antlers at the Veilhorn-dragon's legs. Stórmerki hisses and growls before swiping her wounded claw at Necromancer, lifting her talon soon after and up to her face, growling at the armored Necromancer when she's done with her examination of her paw.

Dragon's Bitterweed suddenly makes a move before his mind can react; summoning an army of stags as they jump and attack the resting foreleg close to Stórmerki's body. The dragon mare's eyes widen before lighting up, her underbelly glowing and shooting up into her mouth; her maw opens and the male buck quickly scurries away as Stórmerki lurches a powerful thrust of fire from her mouth.

Zeranthyis watches the fight with Lich King, analyzing the situation before herself, her eyes dart to Necromancer getting up from being flung into a tree's roots, she silently roots for her group's victorious win against Stórmerki's powerful dragon form. The Lich King only is distant and watches behind dulled red eyes..

~-~

The fight is soon won over to the group of four horses, Stórmerki going down as her dragon form shrinks back down into her normal Veilhorn appearance--despite being battered and bruised, with a wonder hoof--she growls and tries to bite Necromancer's hoof before taking flight and leaving the group alone, leaving them to their business after. The Guardian of Trail of Hostility has been defeated.

Zeranthyis celebrates in an uproar of happiness, dragging everyone into a hug with her magic, Necromancer lets out a loud chuckle of victory as his magical armored dissipates back into his horn, Dragon's Bitterweed just faints from having to use his magic against Stórmerki who turned out to be NOT something they were expecting to fight--but fighting their first technical dragon was fun yet frightening. And Zeranthyis suddenly nuzzles Lich King to bring him out of his gloom and doom--trying to distract him from his thoughts. And she is successful.

"With that mare gone, we can continue our journey!- Right?" Zeranthyis steps forward with ecstatic excitement, then quickly looks at her group, wondering if they'll want to turn around or continue forward.

"Well, we did come this far; we can't stop our escort now." Necromancer leniently agreed with Zeranthyis, shrugging his shoulders before laughing out again, Dragon's Bitterweed--after waking up from his fainting like a billy goat--nods after standing up. The three look up at The Lich King, he only nods before exhaling a deep breath and continuing forward. The three dead Veilhorns follow without fail, silently excited yet powered with renewed vigor, the Lich King's Convent aren't giving up anytime soon with protecting their valuable escort with the king.