Poisonous Fox

Despite my physical deviations, the night-eye vision proved itself valuable over and over again.

The lanterns poorly lit the cavern, the loose rocks and uneven flooring created numerous tripping hazards; if not for my vision, I would have had a much slower, more difficult time navigating. The last lantern I had passed had been near the pantry, and I had been descending, deeper into the cavern, for two minutes already. Some light glistened up ahead, but not much, just barely enough to keep the cavern from being pitch black.

Not only were the lanterns sparse, but as I went, I noticed that the cavern had begun narrowing, the roof lowering, and the air tasted stale and skank. The cavern narrowed to such a degree, that parts of it had to be chipped away for the path.

The awful smell clued me in that I approached my target. It was either that, or an indoor cesspit. Or both.

Eventually, the cavern widened up on top, so that it looked like an inverted triangle, with metal grating blocking the upper portions, and a hinged gate on the lower. Debris and rubble had been piled in on the bottom to provide a semblance of a level floor, but only just barely.

The stench was particularly strong from the other side of the metal gate. Of course I heard their raspy breaths, their idle twitches, and one of their groans.. These poor people had been kept captive in these conditions for who knew how long.

I inspected the gate, looking for the locking mechanism. It was not intuitive, at least not as much as I would have thought. Its hinges were set into the boulder on the left. To the right, a thick bracket had been installed, preventing the gate from opening outward. In fact, it appeared that a portion of the boulder had been carved away, to leave metal and stone as an obstruction. This gate would only open inward, towards the prisoners. But still, as I inspected it, I was unable to find the locking mechanism. Most gates kept the lock to the far side of the hinges.

I worked my fingers along the edges of the gate, checking the seams. While I could not find a latch, that was not proof enough, as there was hardly enough space between the gate and the jamb, and the angle was opposite of me and prevented me from easily checking. However, as I was unable to find a keyhole, and as the gate was most definitely locked; I decided that another mechanism must have been holding it shut.

I followed along the boulder and walls, but was unable to find any levers or buttons for control. I returned to the rocks and tried climbing up to where the cavern was wider, but I found more rocks had been melted and slagged on top, creating a barrier that was far too heavy for me to so much as wiggle.

While I was up there, I had a better vantage of the other side of the gate. The cavern ended in a cramped space, where a collapse had brought the limestone ceiling caving in. The cramped and dark space formed a slave-pen, or what some might call a ‘stable.’ Against several of the walls, there were installed several metal brackets and lockable hooks. To that bracket, several of the leashes had been locked in place with what looked like a large and flat padlock. The leashes were still attached to collars, and those to three slaves sleeping on scraps of moldy cloth at the base of the wall. On the far side, it looked like a makeshift toilet, without any plumbing, or anywhere for the waste to really go.

Since I could only make out one side of the pen, I climbed up the other boulder, and peered in. There was what looked like a minotaur on the far side, though without a collar or leash. It was leaning against the wall and snoring. I doubted the minotaur was a guard. It was naked, and from as far as I could tell, non-sapient.

I went back to the first boulder to consider the three slaves: a human, an animal person, and a child. Earlier, I remembered the animal person bearing similarities to a cat, but it was difficult to tell that while they were mired in the dark and the filth.

But what drew my eyes in particular was the child.

A child. A pretty friend. A slave.

It left my blood hot and cold and so hot that sweat prickled beneath the skin.

Children should not be enslaved, ever. But as I watched the child, I noticed some oddities about his face. It just seemed a bit more angular than a child should be. Not enough baby fat. I figured that the slavers had likely mistreated the slaves and perhaps starved them.

Before I got them out and free, I needed to know more. I picked up a small pebble and tossed it their way, to wake them up, somewhat silently. I was taking a risk. But I doubted they would betray me. Besides, who would they betray me to? This portion of the caverns had been abandoned by the slavers, likely due to the stench.

My throw was off, and I hit the human’s foot. The craftsperson. Though he did not budge. The ears of the feline person flinched at the sound though. I picked up another pebble and tossed it. This time, the pebble hit the stone and clattered. The feline’s yellow eyes opened and he rubbed his face before looking my way.

“Ma’ ax?” the feline humanoid said in a rough and hoarse whisper.

My head tingled.

“Teeche ka t’anik, ma?” he asked again.

A familiar pressure began to build beneath my ears. I shook my head and waved my arms. I could not afford another migraine right then. Instead, I tried forming words similar to the humans, in their tongue, as they must have had a way to converse with the slave. Or so I assumed.

“N-no?” I managed to say, though it sounded slurred and wrong, even to my own ears.

“Why speak barbarian?” the feline ask, in a stilted

“It’s what I know,” I explained, curious that he called the human language that. There were obvious implications.

He tsked and clicked his tongue. “Unfortunate. Raised from a cub, then? Stolen from your mother?”

My stomach sank and my knees wobbled. Did he know Mother? No. No no no.

“W-what?” I stuttered, due to the unfamiliar language we were using.

A lady never stutters and always speaks clearly.

“A shame, not to speak Kaivan. Su’uatil. Shame.”

Kaivan. That must have been the language he had been speaking. He thought I was Kaivan then? Otherwise, why would it be a shame I never learned the language… which meant he did not, in fact, know Mother. I let out a breath that I only then realized I was holding and regarded the feline humanoid, the Kaivan.

He had golden eyes and gray fur with many spots. He was lithe and lean, and wore only plain brown pants tied with a cord at the waist. His fingers were short and stubby, but ending in retractable claws, and his feet were strangely jointed, similar to my own. He gave the impression of lean speed. His stomach was gaunt, and while his fur was kept groomed, his fur did not appear as sleek as it should. His ears were crisp triangles with a tear on one side. His muzzle was short, his nose large and flat.

Belatedly, I realized I had been staring for a little too long, and it was approaching a certain level of awkwardness. The only mitigating factor was that he was also inspecting me, and that I needed to know who I was rescuing. Apparently, his eyes also could see in low light conditions. When our eyes met each other, I feigned a cough.

“P-pleasantries later,” I said, gaining proficiency with the human’s language as I spoke. “How do I unlock this?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Not with the hescoria–” he hissed, “the Red Queen?”

I scowled without realizing it. I would never willingly ally myself with slavers. Never.

“This answers,” he said with a raspy chuckle. “Their queen has artificed key. This is required… unless your teeth can chew steel?”

I scoffed and shook my head at his joke. Unless that was an honest question, I realized. So I clarified. “I cannot chew steel.”

“So your teeth cannot,” he repeated, almost as though he attempted to correct me.

“Tell me more about this key,” I said, ignoring the unusual behavior. “And what does ‘artificed’ mean?”

While I had yet to find the physical lock to breach the slave-pen, if I could find it, I could pick it.

“The key is bronze wand,” he shrugged. “Artificed is artificed.”

“Where does the key go?” I asked, hoping to cut out some of the legwork. We really needed to get moving, the gnolls and their distraction would not last forever. In fact, it had been a while since I had heard them, though the pen was far removed from the rest of the lair.

“Go?” he repeated, curiously. “The hescoria queen wears it around neck. Necklace, yes?”

“No,” I said. “That’s good to know. But where does it go in to unlock the gate?” I asked, further clarifying the question.

“This one does not understand,” the Kaivan man said. “Key unlocks gate.”

“Yes, but how?” I asked, trying not to let frustration leak into my voice.

“Is artificed?” he said. “This one–”

“-fine, just tell me what this key looks like.”

Because a ‘bronze wand’ did not make much sense as far as keys went.

As we spoke, the human slave stirred slightly, making a contented smacking sound with his lips. The feline gave him a look of disgust before answering.

“The key, a bronze wand with a red crystal, the queen, she wears around her neck, this should be sufficient to find. Though dangerous. Perhaps the cub should escape home and learn properly. Ears are sharp, xican alifidas, yes?”

The occasional words were spiking my headache, and my left arm burned as the ‘Blessings’ once again changed, further mutating me. If the tattoo could physically modify my brain, then was I still me?

Mind: 36 (+1)

I pushed those thoughts aside and nodded slowly.

The key should be distinctive enough and easy to find.

But while I was speaking to him, and while I knew I should get moving, I found myself intentionally drawing out the conversation. I had not realized I had been so lonely since Nick Delaney perished; but I guessed I have had few opportunities to socialize, unless the gnolls counted.

But time was running out, if we ever had any to begin with. Despite that, I felt justified asking another question. Not about the padlocks holding the leashes to the brackets, since I could pick those open easily. No, my question was for something far more dehumanizing.

“And for the collars,” I asked. “How are those unlocked?”

“The keys should be around, this one is unsure of where.”

Our voices, conversation, while not loud, must have been loud enough to wake the human. That is, if he had been asleep at all. I had my doubts. Were I in his position, I would have faked sleeping to gain insights.

“Huzzat?!” the man snorted as he ‘woke’ up. He made a show of rubbing his eyes messily with his palms. “Who’re you talking to, cat?”

“That one has not introduced yet,” the feline said. “Though that one was just leaving.” The feline gave me a pointed look and a nod.

“Nuhuh cat,” the man snorted. “You ain’t pushing that slag on me. Don’t think I didn’t hear you all talking. The Union finally sent someone? ‘Bout time.”

I tilted my head in confusion, glancing between the two. They were both slaves, and I had intended to free all of them. Safety in numbers, and all that. And depending on where we landed, either could be used as a frontman. The feline must have read my confusion, for he added, “I do not think that one was sent by your family.”

“Union,” the man corrected with a condescending tone. He shook his head though, then added, “well, if you’re escaping then I’m coming with. And don’t even think about double crossing me.”

“No one has said we will leave without,” the feline sighed. “But if this is to work, then our friend must leave now.”

I got the feeling that there was perhaps a rift between the human and the feline. I wanted to ask more, and to find out more about the boy, but the feline was right. I needed to get moving. I nodded at them and disappeared back into the shadows.

“Hey don’t forget about me, or else, right?!” the human said, his voice echoing as I made my way back up the cavern.

I left them behind with feelings of ill-ease and a forming headache. Something was bothering me, more than usual, and it took me a second to put my finger on it.

The Kaivan man was gaunt, suffering from poor hygiene, with a ragged fur coat. The man had been stocky, unshaven, and while filthy, had few visible ailments. His bulk was there. Which meant he never starved. Which meant he was treated far better than the Kaivan, and that he would be far less motivated to escape. I doubted the man would refuse an attempt at escape, but, it would be better to limit his chances to betray me.

I trusted the Kaivan to sacrifice much to escape, including damaging me. I trusted the man to stab me in the back if it would further his own goals.

The child! I realized I had failed to open a dialogue with the child. Though I assumed the mechanisms to free the child would be the same for all of them. And honestly, the child was reason enough to risk both the feline and the human’s company.

I would find this ‘queen,’ steal the artificed key, including anything else of value I could get away with. I would free the slaves, in particular the child. I controlled my breathing, falling into old patterns.

Even though I still could not remember where those patterns came from.

But considering the lessons that kept harassing my thoughts, perhaps not remembering was good.

Regardless, I had just passed the pantry and the wagon with the makeshift bed when I heard people up ahead. They were walking towards me, conversing.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 36 (+1)

Mind: 49

Spirit: 45

Talents:

Athleticism (2/9):

Climbing (5/9)

Stealth (2/9)

Trackless Tracks (3/9)

Closed (2/9)

Spells:

Illusion (7/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)

Gifts:

Obsession (2/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)