Poisonous Fox

With a heavy heart, I decided to escape.

I could not help further, not with the artificer waiting to betray me; getting myself caught would do no favors.

If I stayed further, I would prolong the risk of discovery, though I suspected I could hide for quite a while.

I strongly considered doing just that, waiting. I could hide near the ceiling of the cavern in a corner, near invisible to normal vision. And with my Talent, I could hang from the walls for quite a while.

But not forever.

At some point, I would need to rest, my fingers were hardly invulnerable, they would strain. Besides, I doubted I could sleep while hanging from a wall. The longer I stayed, the more fatigue I would experience, the easier it would be to make a mistake, and the riskier it became.

A good thief knows when to leave, and I had already taken all that I required.

So why then, was my heart so heavy? Why then, did I feel like I had made this decision before? Never play the fool, dear. Be the good girl I know you are… right. I shuddered. I would be Mothersworn if I stuck around further wallowing.

I had decided to escape, and escape I would do.

I made my way out from where the prisoners were kept. My first obstacle was the pantry and improvised wagon-bed.

A sentry was there, keeping an ear out for the artificers, no doubt. It was the same man from earlier, the toady. He still stank of booze, though his eyes had lost their glossy sheen.

After observing him, I cast an Illusion and slipped past.

Even when his lantern cast light touched me, he never noticed. Had I wanted to, I could have slipped back into the pantry to gather even more. But my bag already hung rather heavily–I had enough.

Greedy thieves, like hasty thieves, usually shared the same fate, a fate I endeavored to avoid.

I had just passed the wagon when footsteps came from ahead, followed by the glow of a lantern, and then a woman. I pushed my back to the cavern wall, still covered by a shrouding blur. I recognized her, she was the woman who had been taking inventory earlier, who had been sent off to warn the Mess Hall.

When she got close, she spoke out to the toady. I remained where I was to listen in.

“Everyone’s gone riled up now,” she said.

The man groaned, “Can’t you talk normal, Hanny?”

Now that he mentioned it, she did have a bit of an accent, with stretched out vowels. It reminded me almost of a twang.

She guffawed. “But I am ya big mule.”

The man scowled at the name, but other than a wet scoff, let the subject mostly drop. “Yeah sure. What the cap say?”

“We’re all about to do a sweep while stay’n in pairs. ‘S why I’m here.” She finished, showing off what could be a rifle, but with more tubing than I expected, and a pipe for a sight. “S’pposed to keep armed, too.”

The man groaned, “more walking?”

“Nah,” she drawled. “You and I got the light duty, just staying where we are.”

“Good. Think we can turn in?” the man asked.

“Don’t see why not,” she said. “Not like anyone’ll be down here fer a while, ‘n we’ll hear ‘em first.”

She climbed up into the wagon with him and sat beside him, leaning shoulder to shoulder.

As touching as that was, I needed to keep going. And of course, my right arm chose that moment to begin burning, which made me bite my lip, instantly reminding me of my canines. And my muzzle.

I started to gag, but settled for a wave of a sick and gross feeling of disgust and self-loathing. I did my best to ignore that piece of my anatomy and focus instead on my escape. Because now was not a time to go lax; the slavers would be searching the tunnels.

I needed to get out sooner or later.

Though again, that niggling thought returned. I could just hide. The cavern was huge and dark and full of so many places I could slip and wait for a better moment.

But then I remembered how well I could see in the dark, and that this was a world of abilities I had no understanding of, what may as well have been magic. One of the slavers could have Night Eye, or some spell, or an artificed gadget to reveal living creatures.

I hated not knowing what the rules governing this system were!

As soon as I reached civilization, I resolved myself to find out just what I could expect: unknowns killed.

Since I could not rely on remaining unseen, I needed to escape sooner rather than later. So I made haste.

But Hasty thieves are dead thieves.

Staying still came with too many uncertainties, uncertainties kill, and the faster I got out, the safer I would be.

So I made haste!

I was coming up on the intersection to the tunnel that I came in from when I heard a pair of bandits approaching.

“...took my bloody Chargers!” a woman’s voice swore. That woman was not the Red Queen, but a wirier woman, with a dusky complexion.

I stepped off the path and climbed the walls up towards the shadows above the lanterns, well outside of the normal field of view. People seldom looked up, and with the hooded lanterns, the beams of light hardly reached upwards.

“Godsloving crownlickers!” A man swore. The woman hissed when he said ‘crownslickers,’ which I interpreted as a particularly heinous insult. He continued in a tumble of poorly thought out words. “That, and my, my… uh, yea! My knife! It got snatched too!” The beer stained rotund man slurred, walking alongside the woman.

“Ya sure you not really upset ‘bout your girlie rag?” the woman mocked.

Oh. I suppose I had taken an illustrated booklet. And while I had yet to investigate it in detail, there had been a few raunchy images on the cover. My cheeks heated just a little, and the fur on my tail stood up just a little.

“Shut it,” the man snarled. The woman snorted. After a bit, the man confessed, “but yea. That got snatched too. Godspraying thieves.”

The insults the pair used were truly fascinating.

Stealth: 7/9 (+1)

Mind: 50 (+1)

While I waited for them to pass on by, performing their ‘sweep,’ both my arms burned.

But they never passed.

In fact, they stopped. Right by the tunnel outlet.

Mothersworn fool that I am!

Not only did they stop there, they headed into the tunnel! The cramped tunnel that terminated in a room, with the door I had been planning on using to escape!

Were they leaving, or were they planning on staying?

A litany of curses ran through my mind. It appeared that my escape might have just become that much more challenging.

But I did not despair.

I knew there was at least one other exit. And while I might not have known exactly where it was, I could find it. But what if that exit was guarded?

The two that just passed through might not be sticking around–they could be passing through, or just doing their sweep. Nothing was certain yet.

Though. If they were guarding the exit. Then it was likely the alternative exit was also guarded. I doubted I could get there before the sentries.

So many assumptions!

My hands clapped to the sides of my head, my claws partially digging in through my grimy-greasy hair, poking my scalp. The pain helped center me. I was alright, I just needed to escape. And the exit closest to me had just as much chance of working as the further, unknown exit. I would stick with the one that was right there, that I already knew.

I entered the tunnel, walking slowly, carefully picking each step.

The man and woman were ahead of me. I could hear them, but not see them.

While I followed down the narrow tunnel, a thought occurred to me. If a third person followed from behind, catching me between.

If that were to happen then there would not be enough space in the tunnel to really maneuver. I supposed I could wedge myself into the very top and hope the passerby was short.

Fortunately, nobody came from behind, at least not right then. The pair I had been trailing reached the antechamber attached to the double doors to freedom.

I crept forward, keeping to the shadows.

The room was lit by two lanterns, one installed on the wall, and the other on the table. The beer stained oaf had settled down on a chair, resting his elbows on his knees. The dusky woman leaned against the wall near the barred wooden door. She was flipping a stiletto up in the air, catching and throwing by the tip.

“How long you think?” the oaf asked.

The woman gave him some contemptuous side eye.

“What?!” the man said, sounding offended. “Don’t gimme that look. I was off duty! In bed. Sleepin’ it off. Ain’t right, s’mone slippin’ in like that while a man’s sleepin.”

She rolled her eyes, “well maybe if you hadn’t been so drunk then you might have acquitted yourself better.”

“Like you did?” the man scoffed. “Remin’ me then, how many o’ them hundeor you kill then?”

“More than your slobbish sack,” said. Only a slight amount of heat was in her tone, despite the words, and accusations bandied.

“I bet you didn’t get any,” he said, leering at her.

She chuckled. “Got one at least. Not my fault Cap’s faster ‘n me.”

“Hah! Barely any at all.”

“Which is one more than you got.”

“I ass–” he hiccuped “-scuse me, I assisted plenty.”

“So none. Admit it.”

They continued nattering while I came up with several strategies to get past the two.

But I had yet to come up with any good strategies by the time that I heard footsteps echoing down the tunnel. Someone was approaching. The room was a dead end. There was not enough space to hide. I needed to leave. Immediately. Hastily.

I settled on my least bad plan.

First, I fixed the image I wanted. I had played with both shadow clones and illumination, and those were among those I was most confident in, other than a general chameleon effect. But a chameleon effect would not allow me to sneak past them, unbar the door, and slip through without notice.

No, for me to escape, what I required was a distraction.

“Illusion,” I breathed. I focused on one of the first patterns I had practiced, [Flame].

On the table by the oaf, a flame sparked over the lantern. The Illusion clipped the lantern and table, but if a person did not know what to look for, they likely would fail to notice it. And when someone saw a fire begin spreading out of control, I hoped, and I betted, that they would fail to notice it.

At first, neither the woman nor the oaf noticed.

I pushed the Illusion, leading it to grow. From my earlier experiments, I knew that I could keep the Illusion going for about forty seconds.

Once the [Flame]s completely encompassed the lantern, the woman finally noticed.

First her eyes narrowed, then slowly her mouth dropped open. Suddenly she was a flurry of activity, kicking off from where she had been leaning against the wall and crossing the room in a stride, before slapping the oaf.

Apparently while I had been strategizing he had fallen asleep sitting down.

“Wake up!” she shouted.

Belatedly, I realized that her raised voice would draw the incoming footsteps on more quickly, as they heard the sound of the alarm. It was too late for me to decide on a different course of action, though. I was now committed.

“Hu–wha?” he startled, reeling from the slap and feeling his cheek. “Hey wait, you can’t just–you–ugh!”

He glanced at the lantern, and the Illusion spreading out from and encompassing it, and he startled back and fell off his chair, before scrambling backwards, getting tangled in the legs of wood..

“Bloody gods! What–I didn’t–when did that happen?! Do something!”

“I woke you up!” the woman shouted back. “It’s your turn!”

“You!” He shouted back. “I’m not stickin’ my hand in that!”

“Did fat rot yer brain?!” the woman demanded. “That lantern’s artificed! Pull it out!”

“No lantern’s worth burnin’ my hand in that…”

“I’ll let the Cap know yer opinion then,” the woman rebuked.

“You’re the one that started it–”

“-you can’t prove that–”

“-don’t need to, you fat sack of–”

I doubted I would get a better chance than this.

I left the Illusion in place, and began sneaking into the chamber, picking each step as silently as I could.

I did not crouch, as I needed to move swiftly, before I ran out of energy, and before they noticed me. Were I to crouch and move slowly, the decreased chance of exposure would hardly be worth it.

I would have covered myself in a [Chameleon], but I lacked the finesse to keep two Illusions at once. The only thing more suspicious than a spontaneously combusting lantern is one that also spontaneously exhausts without suffering any fire damage. I kept the [Flame] active as a result.

The two continued bickering.

I had reached the doors standing between me and freedom.

They were two wooden doors that hinged inward, locked by a heavy bar which was held in place by gravity. I remembered slipping in earlier–the hinges were well greased, and only gravity held the bar in its brackets. Ideally, I would slip out without any being the wiser.

I lifted the bar from the side, beginning to free just one of the doors. I only needed so much space to slip through. In preparation of locking the door behind me when I did manage to slip out, I unsheathed my knife. My goal was to reverse how I originally snuck in, use my knife to reseal the door behind me.

Keeping silent was taking a toll–both in time and attention. The bar was wider than the doors, and I refused to simply let it clatter to the ground. I had just begun inching the doors open when circumstances changed.

“It’s not gettin’ any worse. Just loop yer knife through,” the man said.

The woman glared at him, “If it’s such a good idea, why don’t you do it?”

He added just a bit sheepishly, “mine got stolen.” Then, in a tone he probably thought was roguishly but came across as gross, he added, “unless yer scared.”

“Go lick a god’s sack,” she swore, but she did pull out a stiletto. She lifted the lantern’s handle gingerly, using the tip of her blade. Her hand, even on the hilt, even separated by inches of blade, still ought to have felt the heat.

I finished squeezing through the door and begun dropping the bar down behind me, first by holding it by hand, but then when the doors pressed too tightly together, I replaced my hand’s position with the edge of my knife. This part was delicate. The bar was heavy, leverage was against me, and my blade did not have a large surface to begin–

The approaching footsteps had finally arrived. I could no longer see what was happening, and the bar was just about back in place, when what sounded like a bull of a man bellowed. “What in the ever loathing burning piss are ya twats going on about!”

My ears twitched from the sudden volume, I startled, and my knife slipped, sending the bar thudding to the floor, and the door came partially ajar.

The door was a lost cause. They would know someone just went out. I needed to put distance between me and them. To do that, I needed time.

I pushed all my focus on the [Flame]s and flashed them as big and as bright as I could.

“Put it out!” the woman shrieked.

Not sticking around to see how it went, I began sprinting.

My pool of energy was just about empty. If I bottomed it out completely, it would take seconds longer just to begin refilling. I would need Illusions to further my escape.

I dropped the Illusory [Flame] and began recharging my energy, but also ended the distraction. As I was putting distance between me and the door, their voices were becoming distant. But I still heard what I dreaded.

“The door! The doors! You sacks! Somebody got out!” the third voice bellowed and echoed out into the small valley.

Closed: 3/9 (+1)

Body: 39 (+1)

The doors slammed inward behind me, the three of them spilled out, led by the woman. They looked disgruntled, irritated, and they searched their vicinity. It was light enough out that they left the lanterns behind. They fanned out to search the settlement, with the pudgy man running to check the workshop.

I only spared a glance while I was running, I kept close to the side of the cliff, in the shadows, continuously putting distance between me and them.

It was the woman that spotted me first.

“Under the lookout!” she shouted. “By the bluff! It’s running fast!”

The third man, a very large man, was holding a bronzed rifle. He tossed it to her while he pulled out another gun, a heavy and long looking pistol with a clunky base. The rifle trained on me, while the big man sprinted for me, covering ground quickly in his long strides. The first man, the slob, came stumbling out from the workshop looking around frantically until he spotted me as well.

But what really stood out, was that rifle. Pointed at me. My energy pool had not fully refilled, but there was some in the tank, and I was almost to cover.

“Illusion!” I focused on a [Clone] splitting off from me, running straight, while I dove towards the left in a roll.

Illusion: 8/9 (+1)

Mind: 51 (+1)

A pink light flashed through my right peripherals. A pop sounded from behind me.The smell of ozone.

I dismissed the shadow [Clone] to conserve as much energy as I could. I resumed the course, running along the cliff once more. I could not separate too far from the base of the cliff, as that would put me in sight of the sniper in the ‘lookout’ as the woman called it.

There would be cover aplenty soon. But I had to escape the valley that the small bandit settlement had been built in. A hill was up ahead. I would have to scale the incline before I could take shelter from gunfire.

But there was a problem, several actually, but the largest problem was that while I ran up the incline, I would be in full view of the woman with the rifle, and judging by how she shot my shadow clone straight on, she was a decent shot.

The bellower, what I had taken to call the bull of a man with a cannon of a pistol, was matching my pace, possibly outclipping me. He might have even been faster than me with his long legs. This body of mine was short, and even running quadruped, I still was unable to beat him. The only reason I was keeping so far ahead of him was that he had to keep out of the woman’s line of sight.

“Down!” the woman shouted as she ejected a coin from her rifle and pushed a coin with a glowing crystal in.

The bellower dove to the left. Another shot was coming. I could not rely on the same trick I used last time. So I improvised.

“Illusion.” This time, I pushed my [Clone] as far as I could behind me, between the woman and I. I only had two ways I could move, away from the cliff or forward, I dove away from the cliff, again, and hoped she shot where I had been going.

There was another flash of pink light.

I smelled the ozone first.

Then I heard a sizzle.

Afterwards came the burnt leather, and the taste of metal on my teeth.

I felt my side. An irregularity of flesh could be felt through a hole in both my shirt and jacket, close to my armpit.

It had almost been a lung shot.

No pain, at least not yet, must be in shock, I thought.

Nothing to do but continue escaping. I would treat the wounds later. I resumed running. I was climbing up the incline, nearing a divot where I could find cover. I risked a glance behind.

Closed: 4/9 (+1)

Body: 40 (+1)

The woman ejected another coin, no longer glowing. She shoved another one in. The bellowing man had made progress since the last shot, but once again she shouted, “down!” The bellower ducked low but kept moving.

“Illusion.” This time, in my haste, I found a well of untapped creativity. I created a sheet of darkness, what I would later think of as [Shroud], and the sheet of darkness stretched out behind me, obstructing me over several times like a sail.

Mind: 52 (+1)

Illusion 9/9 (+1)

My right arm felt like it was on fire. Had I been shot? No, my mark. What was happening to it? No time to look!

Illusion (1/9): +Touch

It must have been my imagination, but that sheet almost felt thicker.

But there was no time to dwell. I could not focus on my arm, on the pain that was just now catching up. I needed to escape!

Focus, fool girl!

I ran for all I was worth.

There was no shot.

“Can’t take the shot!” the woman shouted. The bellower resumed his chase. But my lead was secure. The crest of the hill was just ahead, and then I would have cover from the rifle, and I would have a plethora of escape options to choose from, and I just had to get over that crest!

I was just crossing the peak when my pool of energy hit empty, when my Illusion failed, and when I was once more in the riflewoman’s sights.

A flash of pink light.

My left arm went numb just below the shoulder. It still worked, I thought. But I must have been hit.

I finished clearing the crest of the hill. Sounds of alarm could be heard behind me.

Before me, the landscape opened up in the most literal of ways. The cliff-face that I had been running along inverted, the hill I had been climbing split into a deep canyon, and other than boulders and rocks and lichen, it was tiered steppes, scrambles, and worse all the way down. The view was magnificent.

Body: 41 (+1)

Spirit: 46 (+1)

The bellower was coming up behind me, and I could see his head on the other side of the crest, then his shoulders, he was coming in quick. I needed a way to dissuade him. To my right, a particularly steep crevasse started, an offshoot of the deep canyon.

I scraped the bottom of the barrel, using all of that strange mystical energy that I had left.

“Illusion.”

A [Shroud] formed between me and the bellower.

He stumbled and broke through to my side and I moved the shroud to keep up. He could not see. He stumbled, tripped, crashed to the ground and rolled.

[Shroud] ended, exhausted.

I could not remain to watch what happened. The crevasse was deep enough I could not see the bottom. It was windy enough they could not take shots. It joined up with the canyon, giving me options of escape. It was down there, waiting in the darkness was unknown.

It was the best of the bad options.

The bellower was recovered enough to draw a bead on me with his hand cannon.

I leapt forward and downward, diving and twisting.

The handcannon popped. A pink light flashed overhead, above me. I felt the heat, as close as I was. It was a miss, I hoped. The cliffside started to zoom past, I picked up speed, accelerated, soon I would accelerate too much that any maneuvering would result in an uncontrolled crash and a messy end.

I was facing downward.

I had one good arm.

I reached out and snagged the wall, a handhold forming. My momentum was too much, my grip failed. Skin was ripped from my palm. But my body was now torquing so that now I was falling almost sideways.

I reached out once more. This time my grip held.

Momentum slammed me into the wall.

Athleticism: 3/9 (+1)

Climbing: 8/9 (+1)

Closed: 5/9 (+1)

My breath was knocked out of me. But my grip held. My left arm screamed in agony from where it had been shot, from where it hit the rock wall, but that was a good thing, it meant my nerves were not completely ruined. My right arm trembled, my palm oozed slick. But still, my grip held.

Wheezing, unable to catch my breath, but without a choice, I began crawling down.

With my left arm almost unresponsive, my descent was more of a controlled fall. It was quite a ways down. The decline evened out gradually, until I found myself at the bottom, in shadows so thick even I struggled to see through them.

Shouts echoed down from above. If they came with ropes, or if they had a Spell or ability similar to my Talent, then they would soon invade my latest sanctum.

I started walking. I had to pick my footing carefully. The crevasse opened to the canyon; there was more light down there, and I was able to increase my pace, even though my legs trembled, and every jostle set my nerves aflame.

Another canyon split off from the main trunk, then another crevasse. Whatever catastrophe had occurred to create the Wastes had truly shattered the landscape. It was to my advantage now.

The shouts grew distant.

I was losing them. Soon, I could no longer hear them. A few turns later, I knew I had lost them.

I just hoped that I could keep them lost.

Body: 42 (+1)

Spirit:47 (+1)

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 42 (+4)

Mind: 52 (+3)

Spirit: 42 (+2)

Talents:

Athleticism (3/9) (+1):

Climbing (8/9) (+1)

Stealth (7/9) (+1)

Trackless Tracks (3/9)

Closed (5/9) (+3)

Spells:

Illusion I (1/9)

Touch (ranked up)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)

Gifts:

Obsession (2/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)