Ingestion 1.2.4
Despite my (hopefully-temporary) body’s predilection towards tracking by scent, I still struggled in following the trail. I found myself losing the scent, frequently, and having to backtrack until I found it once more. In some instances, a trail would disappear, and once more I would backtrack. Some trails were faint, some stronger, and while I was increasing in ability, it was incredibly frustrating. But as I went, I found myself smelling more. The scent I tracked grew stronger. Every scent grew stronger. Almost tangible. They became easier to parse, to pull apart. Naturally, this increase corresponded to my tattoo itching and growing in broad strokes across my left arm.
Mind: 31 (+3)
As I followed their trail, I took lessons from my previous encounter. I now knew that walking the ridgeline was dangerous, as it left me visible from either side of the hill, from above and below. Too visible. I had been treating the countryside like a city, walking the easiest path, and trusting anonymity to blend in. But out here, there was no anonymity! I should have thought of that. I really, really should have thought of that.
But enough castigation. I needed to focus on that task at hand.
Though, it appeared that even the crude, dumb, primitive gnolls knew better than to walk the ridgeline. At least from following their trail. I found that they commonly chose the lee between hills, the crags, and a serpentine pattern that weaved around boulders. Between the natural camouflage their fur offered, the shadows, and their path, it would be difficult to sight them first.
Here was a concern: if they practiced stealth, who were they sneaking for? Were they hunting prey, or were they hiding from a predator? I wondered what else lived out in these wastes, preying on individuals such as myself.
While following the musk trail, I practiced my Illusions. Not the flames, or anything visible. Cohesive thoughts might have become sparse, but I had learned my lesson. Yes. No, I practiced something that would help me slink through dark places, that would grant me the greatest stealth, that I could use to blind my enemies, to shroud myself. Stealth would be my armor. But my Illusions, my [Chameleon] and [Blur] were limited in duration. They would not even last for thirty consecutive seconds! While useful in bursts… and likely leaving any thief jealous, I had seen how dangerous this world was, and I needed more.
So I practiced, again and again. And again. And gradually, as my left arm itched, my Blessing of Spirit grew. And I found my duration increased. As I was not stretching my imagination, and simply repeatedly exhausting my energy pool, I was able to directly correlate Spirit to Duration. That pool of energy, I realized, was Spirit, whatever Spirit was. Interchangeable, maybe. Regardless, my pool of Spirit grew.
Spirit: 33 (+8)
I now found that I could keep [Blur] up for over thirty seconds. Still not enough, but it would improve. I just hoped I would survive until then. So hungry. Thirsty. I sometimes imagined noises; sometimes saw shadows move.
The lichen began to look richer in flavor, juicy. And the gastropods I encountered, despite their thorny and barbed black and red shells, began to appetize me. But I had no idea if they were poisonous or not! I wondered how I had managed to come so far without sustenance.
Body: 27 (+1)
Oh, magic, I had forgotten.
A giggle escaped from my lips, which I quickly hushed by slapping my clawed pawed hand over my mouth. Looking back at that moment, I realized I might have lost a slight portion of my sanity, likely attributable to dehydration. At that time though, the embarrassing thought escaped my lips, “sneaky sneak!”
Regardless, I needed provisions.
The night passed, and the horizon began brightening once more.
Body: 28 (+1)
It was then that I heard it. A gurgle. A familiar, burbling, curling, gurgle.
I groaned. That thing was still after me?!
The ooze.
Motherswear it!
I took a wide detour around the ooze, watching as it continued to follow my previous trail towards the cliff. I hoped it would keep going that way, and fail to notice my most recent trail. Since it moved slowly, I did not stick around to find out. Even if it followed me, I could easily outrun it. I just would be unable to rest. Irritation.
Towards that evening, I had yet to find the gnolls or their den. But I did find an indent in a hillside that had stray hair gathered up in the corners between stones, and a particularly pungent aroma coming from several spots. As I sniffed those pungent areas, I realized what I had my face a few inches away from. I immediately pulled away and shook my head to clear the scent out. Embarrassment.
Mind: 32 (+1)
Body: 29 (+1)
I continued on through another night.
I had not slept since the canyon, and even that had been a short rest. Just another piece of evidence towards magic. Sleeping, as much as I detested it, was a bodily requirement. But other than fatigue, I was able to push through what should have been detrimental, what should have been disabling. And yet, I continued onward, practicing [Chameleon], mastering the ability to follow scent trails, and continuing to survive.
Mind: 33 (+1)
Body: 30 (+1)
Spirit: 36 (+3)
These increases, as it turned out, were timely. Incredibly so.
A whining cackle, almost a laugh, had broken me from my reverie.
Sourced from nearby.
I froze. I had been keeping low to the ground, following the ducking-weaving-shadowed path, following the scent trail. And now, it looked like I had found them.
Next came clacking claws and padding paws.
Ahead of me, the hillside curved inward, forming a blind corner.
Now, I could hear their breath. I needed to hide. I could climb the loose stone hillside to my right. I could risk tumbling down the same hillside to my left. The path I had been following left little else in regards to avenues of escape. In hindsight, that had been another of my failures. No time for self recriminations. The gnolls were almost upon me. Seconds! I had seconds at most!
With limited options, I was forced to lean, almost lay entirely, against the hillside. Jagged rocks dug in and pressed against my skin, even through my jacket. Even through my–the–fur. Fortunately I had never weighed much, and this new body weighed even less. The pressure against the sharp slate could have been worse. The flint edges could cut. And were I careless, they would.
“Illusion,” I mouthed. [Chameleon].
A blur formed around me, mimicking a boulder of the same color as the rest, though shaped oblong and perhaps too smooth. I had raised the Illusion just in time.
Two gnolls came around the path, walking single file. They huffed as they approached. They strode casually, pausing to sniff the air, catching the strong stink of their own musk. I doubted they could smell me over it, but I could not be certain.
They came within five feet and the front gnoll paused, causing the rear gnoll to crash into him. The first one yipped and barked back at the second, and the second growled and pointed a clawed finger forward. The first relented, and they resumed, passing directly in front of where I hid.
My Illusion had perhaps twenty seconds left.
The front one smelled the air again and paused, right in front of where I laid against the hillside. It sniffed the air again. And again. All the while, time was running out. The gnoll barked in its strange language.
Just listening to it left me with a headache.
Mind: 34 (+1)
My Illusion still had at least ten seconds left… which was not nearly enough if these gnolls kept standing there.
The rearmost gnoll, a female with white splotches across her shoulders, leaned forward and bit the leading gnoll's shoulder. Blood was drawn, but not much. Copper and musk filled the air. My nose twitched. My tongue watered. The female released the gnoll after he whined and yipped. She pushed him forward, again, and they marched past me.
The female had just gone past when my Illusion dissolved.
They were facing the wrong way to see me, but all it would take was one turn of the neck, and it would be all over. This close to their home, my escape would be unlikely if they saw me. Outrunning would be impossible. Combat would be necessary.
I watched the gnolls like a hawk, for the slightest twitch that they might turn, ready to raise another Illusion with whatever energy I–
The female turned her head.
“Illusion,” I mouthed.
Her eyes widened, her ears went up, and a low growl echoed from her throat. Her gaze ran over the hillside where I laid, and her eyes passed over where I laid without stopping.
I was still holding my breath, and I began to see spots.
The lead gnoll kept walking before realizing the female had stayed behind. He laughed in that strange hyena fashion of gnolls. The female snarled, then turned back to the path and stomped towards him. He took off running away from her, cackling all the while, and the female chased.
Soon they were out of sight.
I let my breath out in a heavy sigh and drew in another just as heavily. I had forgotten a core tenant of Mother’s Rules: Always have an escape route. It had been a long while since I had thought of those. I shuddered as several unpleasant memories almost surfaced, similar to a nightmare fading from the morning. I knew it had been there, I knew it had been painful, but I could not remember exactly what it was. Likely for the best.
Unfortunately, I could not correct this mistake soon, and likely I would need to break the Rule again. Fortunately, the Rules had caveats, several of them. If the reward was guaranteed to offer survival or escape, then pushing forward on a plan without escape avenues could be acceptable, if necessary.
When the gnolls had been absent for two and a half minutes, I got back up from the hillside and crept towards where they had come from. Around the turn of the hillside, I found a recess, where the hill folded even further onto itself, providing three natural barriers around a relatively flat area. Fur had been blown by the wind into the recesses of the rocks. And there, nestled on the deepest portion of the folded hillside, where two erudite boulders leaned against each other, and there, there was a cavern.
A shadow moved.
I froze, “Illusion,” I mouthed. [Chameleon]. I watched the shadow closely. It moved again, just slightly. A paw moved. Gnoll height. A sentry.
I ducked back the way I came.
Running in blind would be a mistake. I needed to observe the site; I needed to learn the gnolls’ habits and routes. Looking around, I saw the far side of the valley, down the hillside and up again, there were plenty of large boulders scattered. I followed the hillside down, causing some slate to fall loose and clatter noisily. I ended up racing the rocks to the bottom of the valley.
“Illusion.”
Just to be safe, I surrounded myself in a shroud of gray that I had taken to calling [Blur]. I continued running across the valley floor, and then up the far side. Glancing over my shoulder, I could not see any pursuers, although the gnolls blended in dangerously with their environment.
I climbed up until I was at a height above the trail and the gnolls’ den, and I settled beside a boulder, where I could see them, but they would be hard pressed to spot me. Ignoring my hunger, pretending my thirst existed not, I kept watch, while practicing my Illusions. I needed to be faster, and I needed more convincing camouflage.
From observation, it appeared the Blessings were increasing at a slower rate than before. I wondered if one hundred formed some measure of threshold, and if other thresholds existed. Regardless, I still found several more gains as I watched and spied and waited.
Body: 31 (+1)
Mind: 35 (+1)
Spirit: 40 (+4)
Illusion: 3/9 (+1)
Despite pressing biological imperatives, I was making progress. And soon, those imperatives would be resolved. Strangely, I felt an urge to cackle and yip. I ignored the urge, of course. But the fact that I felt that urge was concerning.
Not for the first time, I wished I knew how I came to be here, and who sent me.
And why.
Blessings: Rank (1/9)
Body: 31 (+5)
Mind: 35 (+7)
Spirit: 40 (+15)
Talents:
Athleticism (1/9):
Climbing (2/9)
Closed (6/9) (+1)
Closed (1/9)
Spells:
Illusion (3/9) (+1)
Closed (0/9)
Closed (0/9)
Gifts:
Obsession (2/9)
Closed (0/9)
Closed (0/9)