Poisonous Fox

Ingestion 1.6.9.5



Soldiers were tripping over themselves as they slipped on their boots and belts, stumbling towards the source of the horns. In the distance, along with the horn, I heard the crack of what might have been gunfire. The camp frothed in turmoil. I would have likened it to a nest of ants, but ants organized themselves far better than these soldiers did.

It was to be my advantage, I was sure. I made my own hasteful exit from the very same hole in the canvas wall that I had made earlier. But this time, rather than aiming for the Inquisitor’s pavilion, I hid behind the first tent I saw, angling away from the battle.

As I ran from the pavilion, over the clearing, towards the nearest circle of tents, a soldier came tumbling forward, pulling their pants up with each step, cursing the gods and captain alike. I near ran head first into him, only diving to the side and narrowly avoiding disaster. My stomach hit the ground hard, a muscle over my left ribs strained, and I slid across the gravel.

The soldier continued on, failing to notice the clattering of my own fall. A flare had shot up in the distance, which might have ruined his night eye. Or he was unobservant. Either way, he soon passed by, and I made it to the first line of tents, simple single tents that the soldiers kept, barely tall enough to crouch in, and just long enough for a person to lay.

I ducked down immediately, using the tents to break my outline.

The center of the camp was an open space, filled only with the Princess’s and Inquisitor’s pavilions. Once past that open space, there was a relatively ordered circle of clean tents. But beyond that? Things grew messy. The further from the center, the more haphazard they became, with sagging centers, skewed orientation, and in some cases, somehow merged with their neighbors.

It was bizarre, and I wondered how these soldiers had ever gotten anything done.

Had I followed the avenue in and out of the center of the camp, then I would have already been free. Except the main thoroughfare was obviously in use, both with runners, and besides, it ran closer to the ongoing battle that I wished to oblige.

I was coming across one monstrosity of a tent, where three of them had somehow been stacked together and upwards, when I tripped.

The leash I had been trailing got caught on a stake, pulling my neck backwards, choking me. In my distraction, I failed to see the rope holding up a corner of the tent; I tripped; I fell into the tent.

The canvas held my weight for a second, before a rope loosed, a stick snapped, and the canvas caved in, with the roof falling down upon me.

“H-huzzah?” a groggy female’s voice called from inside the partially collapsed tent. “W-whazz–”

I sprang back to my feet, pulling myself free from the twine and the canvas, taking hold of my leash and wrapping it loosely around my arm. I hurried away.

The woman began swearing and cursing from the tent. “Gods take ‘em! Cap! What’s–huh?”

I never heard the resolution of her tantrum.

Soon, I reached the rear perimeter of the camp.

I was free. Granted, still was I sealed, and my abilities still locked away. But bodily, but otherwise, I was free. In my joy, I stretched my legs, increased my pace, and headed for the hills encircling the back of the camp.

Unfortunately, just because there was a battle, did not mean that the camp’s perimeter went unwatched.

“Halt!” a soldier cried from nearby, a man who had been almost invisible in the shadows from where he had been crouched. “Halt! Deserter!” he cried.

Rather than futilely attempting to justify myself, or trick the soldier, I took off, running as fast as I could.

But I was still weak. I was famished. I had been through much recently.

Grubby hands latched onto the fluttering trailing edge of my robe.

The silk jerked me back, I kept pushing forward–the fabric ripped.

I continued for a split second, thinking I was free. But then my neck jerked back, I was coughing, choking. The leash, the leash!

The soldier had somehow grabbed it, it must have come free from my arm at some point. He used it to yank me back.

“Eh–not a deserter at all! Who… who brought a kunny?”

I needed to break free. I refused to go back. To suffer any more degradations at the hands of these humans. But with my marks sealed, I was lacking most of my kit.

Except… I still had some.

I snapped my jaws at the man’s face, causing him to flinch back.

“No reason to snap at me… I’m sure the battle’ll be over soon anyways. Understand your spooked, but you wouldn’t want your master to–”

No more. I swiped his face with my claws, my nails diving in through his cheek, carrying up to his eyes.

He swore and fell back.

I yanked my leash free, or tried to. He gripped it too tightly.

I swiped at the satin leash. My claws did some damage, but not much. Again I swiped.

“Try being nice, this is what I get,” he groused, unsheathing a dagger. “Figure out who brought you and get restitution, is what I’ll do. Godslickin animals.”

Another swipe at the leash, with the combined tension of my pulling, it snapped. I fell backwards. Rolled. Pinched my tail. Felt a sharp piece of shale jab into my side. And then I was running.

The man gave chase.

But his face was bleeding, he was partially blinded, and the night was dark. I heard him trip behind me.

I continued onwards. Up into the hills. There was shouting, but it was falling further behind.

I was free.

Free!

But I was still bound, my abilities still locked away. I needed help if I were to survive these wastes. I needed to reach the mucary, and hopefully before they abandoned their valley. Fortunately, I knew just where they were.

I began circling around on the hills, never violating a ridgeline.

Soon, I reached a hidden spot in the cleft of a boulder which had a vantage overlooking the battle.

The infested had taken the field in a chaotic mess. They grouped near the line of the camp, but further out they came in clumps with space between them. Their speed was not unified. The smaller creatures moving more slowly than the larger, and the ones in better condition outstripping the worser. There were hundeor and marmots, with meorhs further back, pressing their way forward.

While the mucary outnumbered the humans, there were many more mucary corpses than humans, and the humans appeared to be rallying in three separate categories.

The first line of humans wielded swords and kept the mounds surrounding the camp free of the infested. The next line carried pikes, supporting the swordsmen. The final row, which seemed to be scarcer, and composed largely of officers, used the artificed weapons, none of them uniform, but most of them firing with either a bright light or a loud retort.

While I was not an expert, it appeared that the humans were winning. Which was strange. As there should have been many more infested than had taken the field below.

I pondered what strategy Emboru was plotting when I recognized Lady Trigg on the battlefield. Surprisingly, she did not remain safely behind the human lines. Instead she had pushed out past the mound of stone, and was a dervish of blades, one in each hand. She moved too quickly for me to get a clear view on how she was moving, but wherever she spun, the infested fell.

A shadow flew by, and from the lantern light of the camp, I saw flickers dropping.

Explosions wrecked the largest groups of the infested. I got a better look at the shadow. All I saw was a silhouette with two very large wings. I thought it might have been the Inquisitor, but I could not tell for certain. If it was him, then he was likely dropping alchemics.

The infested were surely done for. I began to duck away from the battle, sneaking further away into the night, while I had the chance.

My first order of business was getting the hill between myself and the humans, and then as much distance as I could before daylight came. Not the best of plans, but certainly better than trusting Muleater.

I had just reached the ridgeline when I heard the screams of pain. They seemed to be sourced from further into the camp. Curious, I crossed the ridge and crouched low, providing as small a profile as I could.

A giant was on the field, swaying in a dance of many tentacles, slicing through flesh and bone obstacles. There were so many more mucary down below than there had been before, and they were coming from all directions. It appeared that Emboru had flanked the humans, and that they themselves had taken the field.

Lady Trigg charged Emboru, but a tendril snagged her around the waist. Before she could cut it down, it tightened, garotted, and split the woman in two. Instead of guts, though, she melted into a wave of sand, completely disappearing.

The Inquisitor landed in the center of the camp, giving hasty commands, before taking a small chest and flying back up, making haste away, and fighting off the infested vultures that were dive bombing the camp.

The Inquisitor kept flying, retreating from the battle, and leaving the soldiers to their own fate.

Notably, I never saw signs of Kate nor Muleater, though I could not have checked through all of the humans, for there were many.

I continued watching, feeling safer now than before.

Soon, the last of the humans had been sequestered, with many taken captive, tied with vines, and dragged along back towards the valley. I continued watching dumbly, unaware of the minutes.

In such a short span of time, there had been much death. More than I had ever seen or heard or experienced. Men had cried out, women had screamed, and worst of all was the scent on the wind of blood and offal. My stomach betrayed me, expressing its hunger. I wanted to feel sick, but all I felt was starvation.

While I watched, I wondered what my next course of action should be. I needed to unseal the collar, to make contact with Emboru, and re-finalize our deal, if it was even still valid.

A moment’s panic struck: what if Emboru no longer required me for their purposes? Would they do to me the same that they would inflict on the human captives? Infestation… I shuddered at the prospect.

Just as I decided to hide out, to take a wait and see approach, an infested meohr trudged up the hillside, towards me, making it clear that the meohr already knew of my location. There were vultures in the air, Emboru’s eyes. I had been deluding myself to even think that I might have gone unnoticed.

There would be no escape.

I began trudging down the hillside to join the meohr halfway.

In a daze, I was escorted towards the tentacled giant, towards Emboru. When I reached them, Emboru tilted their tulip shaped head.

I grimaced. “Not much of a choice. Their leaders had different plans for me. Speaking of–” I tapped the metal collar at my neck, “-any chance you could help remove this? It needs an artificed key from somewhere in camp.”

Their words should have been reassuring. They should have been. But watching the infested reclaim their fallen, using tendrils and vines to stitch bodies back together… the words were less than reassuring.

I hoped they found the key.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism (3/9):

Climbing I (1/9)

Featherlight (6/9)

Stealth I (5/9)

Trackless Tracks I (1/9)

Area Coverage (1/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver (3/9)

Evasion (6/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (6/9)

Closed

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)


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