Poisonous Fox

The sounds of combat echoed across the cavern walls as we neared the sky-lit pit.

At first, it was only an echo, which even my ears strained to hear over the ambiance of our footfalls. Larissen heard it as well, which was no surprise, his ears were as keen as mine.

“The rest of the humans are fighting,” Larissen said, eyeing Kate speculatively, but otherwise unhurried. “Perhaps these ones should head elsewhere?”

While the Kaivan manner of speech was always burdensome to understand, Kate, after a helpful nudge from myself, was able to parse what he was saying. He was proposing that we abandon the other humans and find another way out. And considering that the pit opened up towards the sky, it was reasonable to assume that we could very well escape while the humans kept the mikuya distracted.

His proposal contained merit, and his ill-will towards the humans seemed justified. But, there were reasons to attend to the humans and proffer aid. Namely, that reason was Kate.

“We are not abandoning them!” Kate snapped. “What good are you even?! I thought you Kaiva were warriors.” She had sneered the word while glancing derisively at Larissen.

He bristled and responded cryptically. “Should a child lecture on the ways of combat?”

Kate scoffed. Her hand on her hilt loosened just slightly. That was not a great sign. I noticed that she tended to tighten when forced to endure suffering, but loosened when preparing for combat. She was likely seconds away from striking. However, Larissen continued, perhaps sensing the danger.

“Regardless,” he said. “This one defers to Kitten.” He turned his attention to me, intentionally turning away from Kate and diverting her ire, if only partially. “Shall these ones attack a stronger force to save the humans?”

“Is there another way out?” I asked, my eyes following the cliffside walls up, from the floor of the pit up to where they met the overcast sky.

Kate’s upper lip trembled into an almost snarl and her eyes narrowed towards me, offended by my betrayal, at least from her perspective.

“We aren’t abandoning them!” She spat.

I resisted the urge to cave immediately to her demands. This was difficult, as she radiated an aura of fury that left me wishing to flinch away. But the question had to be asked. It was better for some to escape then for all to perish. And if I failed to at least consider Larissen’s proposal, then he would grow even more resentful. So I avoided her glare and looked to Larissen for my answer.

“Could we climb out?” I asked him.

“This one thinks perhaps yes,” Larissen answered, his ears pert and his stance crouched, ready to spring should Kate draw her sword. With her focused upon me, she gave no indication that she noticed the change in his posture.

“Will the mikuya follow us?” I asked, adding another question towards Larissen.

Kate scoffed and answered, “probably, but it doesn’t matter since we’re not leaving.” She was now looming over me, but I resisted! I instead flicked an ear towards Larissen.

“Possibly,” he admitted. “But much ground could be covered before.”

Now that his idea had been openly considered, I could now steer him away from that and oblige Kate, beginning by asking a simple question.“But could the vials be used to defeat them–the mikuya?”

After a pause, he gave a rigid nod. Kate’s posture began to calm down as she may have had an inkling that I was not immediately for abandoning her allies.

“But the vials would be insufficient for resolution,” he added, as though any of us thought that simply throwing the vials would be enough to guarantee permanently removing the mikuya. He was likely seeking out additional justification for fleeing, trying to sway me, and possibly (but unlikely) Kate as well.

I noticed his tail was lashing behind him. He was growing impatient. The longer we discussed and debated, the worse our prospects, regardless of the action taken.

“We could split?” I asked, feigning a nervous tone. “Send the vials back with Kate?”

Larissen scoffed in denial at the same time Kate said, “no.”

Were the situation different, I might have found humor in their brief agreement.

“What would happen if the mikuya found us?” I asked Larissen, dragging the point before him.

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. His claws jutted out from his fingers just slightly. His answer need not be verbal.

“Then it’s best for us to have allies, in case we face another skirmish,” I stated the obvious facts. “Especially since it’s not guaranteed that we would escape here, let alone before the mikuya found us. And our vials could win this battle the humans currently face.”

Larissen growled in a way reminiscent of a groan. “Why not just lay our lives down to save them then?” he asked rhetorically.

“It is a risk,” I agreed. “But our chances are better together than apart.”

“Enough!” Kate said. “We need to godslickin hurry!” Kate swore.

She picked me up, slung me over her shoulder like baggage, and began jogging towards the narrow crack in the wall which led to a cramped passage and eventually to the conflict between the humans and the mikuya.

Larissen followed reluctantly.

So, while the air was pushed out from my lungs with every step, and while my side and arm throbbed in pain to match, I gasped out in the Kaivan tongue, “the humans have our rations,” while holding his eyes. I was unsure if Kate heard me, though I hope not.

After that reminder though, Larissen did pick up the pace.

As we approached, from the shouts, pained grunts, and clashing instruments, it was clear that the battle grew dire. While Kate may have heard some of it, she missed some of the nuances, such as the battle shouts, and the unmistakable sound of steel slicing flesh, and the more ominous clicking of taut wire like vines over joints. Naturally, I kept her abreast of all I heard.

And just as naturally, she sought more than I could provide.

“How many are there?” Kate asked, leading the way by squeezing through the crack. She was too impatient to wait further. Yet only yards separated us from the battle. As we feared that we would be entering the battle from a disadvantaged single-file, we sent Kate through first with one of the two vials. The vials were unmarked, but the cloudy orange fluid appeared caustic enough and hopefully lethal to the mikuya. Though delivering it to them without ingesting the caustics ourselves would be a challenge, one I was all too content to delegate.

Kate had now gone far enough ahead that I struggled to hear her over the chaos of battle, and specifically of the popping-clacking of the mikuya. From past encounters, I suspected that the mikuya were more animated by the vines covering and spearing into their flesh than by the flesh and blood of the infested victim.

“Too many,” Larissen said. Belatedly, I realized he was answering Kate’s question, though I doubted she heard. Next after her, there went Larissen. It surprised me, but I supposed he felt the need to protect the ‘Kitten.’ A foolish premise, but a useful one all the same. Not being combat ready had its advantages, such as being last into the fray.

As I squeezed and contorted into the crack, Larissen added under his breath, but loud enough that I could still hear even though he was ahead, “It is still possible to flee.”

Again, he was pushing for the abandonment of the humans. And granted, were we to do so, now would be the perfect time. But all of the reasons from before were still valid.

“Then we’d face even worse odds,” I explained, more grunted, as I wrestled my own path through the narrow gap.

It remained unsaid that my reasons were likely different from his. For example, I would rather not allow Kate to perish. At least not without suitable reason.

When I crawled near the gap, yet before I could see the space, I heard Muleater curse over the waves of mikuya.

And as for the mikuya, their musk was near suffocating. I tasted their battle-hunger. My own hackles rose in response. I felt it wise to append my previous statement in the Kaivan tongue. “Worst comes to worst, throw the vial. Then, these ones escape.”

Larissen made no response, at least not that I heard, and I could only see flashes of his tail ahead of me, though he might have nodded in agreement. If necessary, I was more than willing to shout. But I would prefer not to alert the mikuya to our position, especially as Kate was soon to be exiting.

Stealth I: 4/9 (+1)

The cramped crawl took an eternity. Or it felt that way. In actuality, only minutes passed. I could finally make out the exact words of the humans. Their plight sounded desperate.

“Gods take you vermin!” Ken’s bellowing shout covered the din momentarily, before a wet sucking twang. “We can’t hold them!”

“We’re not leaving my niece!” Muleater’s voice shouted back.

“Perhaps, perhaps not abandoning, so much as retreating to regroup and strategize?” Manny Stillson oozed.

I was halfway through, and Kate must have been nearing the exit.

“Retreat?!” Ken barked, almost a manic laugh. “How?! They’ll chase us down.”

“But–!” the Caravan Master protested. Ken shut him down. “We can hold them from the side-passage. At least most of us can esca–argh!” His dialogue cut off.

“Ken!” Muleater roared. Footsteps pounded followed by a meaty schlurp.

“It’ll take more than that,” Ken said, almost coughed, his voice strained, “to put–me–down!”

“Here!” Kate’s voice sounded. Steel flashed across leather and vines, snapping through them as through taut rubber bands. “We’re back!”

“Crown be praised!” the Caravan Master shouted. “The vials?!”

“Got one,” Kate answered. She must have pulled one out.

“Throw it!” Muleater shouted.

Larissen made it to the exit, following after, but stopped abruptly. I ran into his tail unceremoniously.

“Wait!” he hissed loudly, not to me, but to Kate.

But it was too late.

I heard a whoosh.

A smack.

A tinkling of broken glass.

Then a noxious odor reminiscent of the night we escaped the caravan, of the yellow smoke that dissolved organic matter. Sounds of combat paused momentarily, one second stretched to the next. I had yet to see what happened, but in those seconds, I hoped that Kate succeeded, that the caustic fog obstructed the path completely, that our escape was secured.

And then the silence broke. Ken grunted, Muleater swore, and Gregory along with Manny, they lamented.

“Fools,” Larissen scolded. He finished exiting, and I followed, if cautiously.

When I stuck my head out to peek at the scene, I saw why Larissen had reacted.

The mikuya had not been halted, nor even delayed. Their formation was built around an infested bear, one that looked both ancient and giant, with large tentacles sprouting from its back like a prop from a low-budget horror film. One of its tendrils had been severed and leaked pus on the ground, but there were five more that spread out to cover its flanks. But that was not all protecting its flanks. Smaller mikuya fought alongside it. Two hundeor, one missing an arm, the other a leg, both with tendrils providing poor replacements and growing thicker as the fight progressed. Five vultures harried the humans from above and behind, distracting them and forcing them to divide their attention. Smaller rodents and vermin weaved beneath the feet, ruining the footing and providing questionable support to the bear. I thought there may have been several marmots as well. It was chaos. And they were still alive and well and pursuing combat.

And as bad as they were? They were only the vanguard.

Behind the bear was a column of mikuya, comprising of a variety of infested, from humans to dogs and cats, and animals I had yet to encounter in the wastes. I thought I even saw a Kaivan. I did not take time to count their army, but it was not less than twenty mid-sized creatures, with a handful of large beasts such as the bear.

The gorge was narrow enough, more of a long crevasse between the two cliff walls, that the caustic fog should have halted them. Should have. That was not the case. Floating above them at least ten yards, the cloud of fog floated asymmetrically, almost hugging one of the walls. Other than obstructing the flyers from one direction, the fog was doing very little to hinder the enemy.

The vial had broken against the walls of the crevasse, but far too high to hinder ground traffic.

Larissen was correct. This situation was untenable.

Mother-, I swore internally.

As I took all this in, Kate joined Ken and Muleater at the front, subbing in for Ken and allowing him to fall back to wrap his injuries and take a respite.

“What happened?” I asked Larissen in a low voice, using Kaivan in case it was sensitive. He was hanging back behind Kate and Muleater, catching vermin on his talons as he could. He ceased movement until a rat or vulture came within range, and then he flickered forward to spear them either with his fingers or his toes.

“The vial was thrown in haste. It was deflected and sent far off course. It should not have been thrown in haste.” Disgust dripped from Larissen’s tone and mannerisms, coupled with the way he wiped a flailing infested rat from his claws. “Our chances are foul.”

Gregory groaned from behind me. “This is hopeless!”

The Caravan Master meanwhile registered Larissen and myself. He came to us, a frantic wide eyed expression conveying almost-madness. “Tell me you found Charson or his cache,” Manny shouted while grabbing my shoulders and shaking me, “Tell me!”

I winced at the pain and gasped, a fire spreading through my left side where my sore inflamed nerves screamed. Before I could snap, Larissen beat me to it.

“Fat qavi! Release Kitten! Go seek the prey yourself–” he knocked Manny’s hands away from me, “-that is, if your girth fits through the passageway.”

The Caravan Master snarled and moved to grab Larissen, I think more by instinct than deliberation. Larissen ducked under his arms and smeared infested blood across his jowls.

Above, the cloud of yellow smoke was still spreading, albeit slowly. It crept outward, expanding downard but also to the sides and upwards as well. Every bit it expanded also diluted the effect just slightly, and it had a long way to travel before blocking off the gorge, if it ever did at all.

Ken finished wrapping his midsection with strips of gray cloth, but the cloth was already stained with blood and the wound smelled of offal. While knowledge of his specific wound eluded me, I could guess that he had been partially disemboweled, judging by the scent. If that was the case, I had my doubts he would survive.

Before the Caravan Master could further antagonize Larissen, I made a recommendation. “We still have the other vial,” I said. “Perhaps we could use it rather than turning on eachother?”

“It may be a waste,” Larissen spoke in Kaivan, for me alone.

“But it might not,” I answered him in the same language.

“What are you animals saying?” Gregory asked.

Larissen hissed and clicked his tongue at Gregory, but I spoke first. Tensions were currently high, for good reason, but if I wanted to survive, then we would need to cooperate. That meant less needling.

So I pointed up at the mustard fog, where it had been displaced by a rotten throw, by poor execution. “To prevent that from happening again.”

“That wasn’t Kate’s fault!” Gregory snapped.

I had not said that. Why did his argument offend me so? I licked my lips and calmed myself, while sounding as condescending as I could. “Who said that it was?” I asked.

“Godslicking idiots!” Ken snarled. “Enough chatter–” he thrust his hand out, palm up, towards Larissen and I. “-give me the vial. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Larissen narrowed his eyes, his ears flat, and his tail swishing briskly. “How can these ones be sure that this one cannot throw truer?” he asked roughly in imperial.

Ken’s face scrunched in confusion. I sighed and translated. “He wants to know how you’re so certain that you’ll throw the vial better than Larissen will.”

Ken growled and snapped impatiently, “Just hand it over!”

“You’re wounded,” Manny Stillson stated. “And the kunny are renowned for physical labors. Perhaps–”

Just then, one of the bear’s tendrils slapped Muleater’s sword upward, leaving her hips unprotected from the bear’s fore-paw. It swiped Muleater and sent her staggering. An infested hundeor lunged forward to take advantage. Ken shouted a warning. But Kate was already moving, flashing to the side with a lunge then a pirouette, almost as a ballerina, her blade making a mockery of the hundeor and separating its leading limb at the wrist.

I rubbed my own stump in empathy for the infested creature.

But with Muleater still off balance, the mikuya pressed forward. Kate was only one person, and despite her acuity and speed, she could not cover the entire passage. The smaller creatures, the vermin, they began slipping through enmasse. A cat, sensing a chance, leapt atop the bear, then flung itself up and over the front lines.

Ken swore again and forgot the last vial, instead throwing a rock at the cat. I heard something tear within the man’s body, his wound opening further. He grunted, but otherwise ignored the pain, pushing up to Muleater and pulling her back.

“What–?” Muleater began to demand.

“Recover.” Ken took Muleater’s sword as he spoke; his own sword had been lost previously when the Jungleborn had ambushed us.

Kate made room for him, and the position was stabilized for the time being.

Muleater grumbled about cocky small-brained men, but only as she checked her thigh where the bear had struck. Notably, there was little blood. The coloration of her pants made it difficult to tell, and the material had already been slicked from the leaking pus of the mikuya, but the fabric had not been torn. I thought that Muleater might have been as surprised as me that the wounds were not greater. But after she checked under her pants, she simply shook her head then turned to Larissen.

“Well?” Mulater asked with expectation, most likely referring to the remaining vial.

“We don’t know what the vial does,” I said. The vial held a clear fluid, one I had not seen the Alchemist use previously. To accentuate my point, Larissen held the vial up in the gloom for Muleater to see. The Caravan Master was the one to confirm.

“Perhaps a solvent,” he said. “But without Charson here, it is impossible–” his voice cracked slightly “-to tell. We can only gamble and hope.”

Muleater scoffed disparagingly. “Got any other ideas?”

The yellow fog had drifted low enough that the bottom most portion of the yellow cloud brushed against the top of the bear. It gave a silent roar and its skin cracked and popped; its muscles tensed, or rather, the exoskeleton of vines and tendrils tensed and coiled like steel cables under tension. It could not retreat, as many mikuya congested the passage behind it. It could not remain in its position, as the fog was descending upon it–albeit incredibly slowly–likely only causing an excuse to press its attack.

“Back!” I shouted, at the same time that Kate and Ken sounded the alarm. Larissen had already begun pulling me away from the fight, away from the fork, and further along the narrow gully.

In the end, the bear’s attack was anticlimactic.

It leapt forward, its powerful hindlegs propelling it forward by half a yard. I thought it would go further. That much weight would have barreled through our lines, regardless of sword play. But it stopped just at our line, knocking Ken and Kate back several steps, but otherwise having no dramatic effect.

The fog lowered a little more, but its rate of descent slowed, visibly slowed, and it hardly drifted further. The hundeor and mid-sized creatures easily traveled under the fog, still not obstructed at all.

Kate and Ken stepped back gracefully as the mikuya continued to push forward. All of us were forced back, step by step, to make room for the fighters and their fighting retreat.

With the entrance to the side tunnel now covered with Jungleborn, we had no means to retreat except the one. Our best bet would be to block off the rest of the space beneath the caustic fog, or to hold the mikuya back beyond it until the fog finally spread out enough to obstruct the entire passage.

“This one–” Larissen said slowly, consideringly, as he hefted the vial in his palm testing its weight “-this one intends to throw.”

I nodded in agreement. I could find no fault with Larissen’s intent. Especially as we were continuously pushed back and would soon lose sight of the fog. But I would hate for the vial to be thrown off course once more; there were still mikuya flyers harassing us, afterall.

I stooped over and grabbed a rock of my own, hefting it awkwardly. It was approximately the same size as the vial. With a sleight of hand, one would not tell instantly it was not the vial.

Larissen saw me, and seemed to approve.

“Ready?” I asked. “After me.”

He nodded. “Yes,” he confirmed.

I threw my rock, a toss more than anything. It flew overhead. A vulture swept down to intercept. In the following instant, Larissen loosed his vial, with a much faster throw, aimed true. The vulture, already committed to the stone, failed to alter its course in time. The vial flew over Muleater, over Ken, and bounced off the backside of the bear. The soft backside of the bear. We needed the vial to break.

“Did that–” Gregory began to ask, having been watching all the time, and likely fearing the same as I. The vial bounced though. It clattered. I heard it clatter. It must have struck a stone. But nothing happened. “-not break?” Gregory finished his question which we were all silently thinking.

“If it did break, then it’s a dud,” Muleater growled.

“Perhaps a solvent, as afeared,” the Caravan Master whispered. “We are doomed.”

“No,” Muleater said softly, then repeated with a firm voice. “No. We are not. Look!” she pointed at the fog. It had lowered by perhaps another foot in the interim, forcing the hundeor to duck or drop to a quadrupedal stance, not that it hindered them by much. “We force them back and hold until the passage is blocked. Then we retreat!”

Ken grunted; while he had been listening in, he had perhaps been partially distracted. A tendril from the bear slapped his face, causing spit and blood and perhaps a tooth to fly. He did not fall, but swore and dove at the bear with his sword, stabbing it in through the shoulder of the beast. However, this careless attack left him overextended. The bear’s claws parted leather and flesh in retribution, its tendrils struck his neck, but still Ken pushed forward.

“Guardson!” Muleater shouted at the same time as Kate, “Uncle!”

“Suicide or bravado?” the Caravan Master asked.

While Ken dove in, the bear was not pushed back. Ken was to one side of the bear, and the lesser beasts there were pushed back, but not the bear. No, the bear was far too large for that.

Kate tried to cover for him, but she was on the other flank, and she had yet to abandon her own defense, though her pained face made it obvious she was considering it. That could not be allowed.

“Do something!” I hissed at Larissen. I did not know what could be done, but something must. But as frantically as I searched for ideas, I came up with naught. From experience, I knew Illusions were worse than useless against the Jungleborn, as though they failed to even perceive them. I could not climb, not with one arm, and even if I could it would not help. And my ability to leave no trail would be useless in this situation, unless I struck out upon my own. What we needed was a coordinated push. Muleater could fight. Larissen could fight. The rest of us, perhaps not, but also perhaps yes.

“What should this one do?” Larissen asked bemusedly.

“We need to get to the vial!” I insisted.

“Would be death, This one thinks.”

Muleater at the time had rejoined the front, attempting to support Ken as the man was struck again and again by tendrils and claws. How he remained fighting, I knew not. But I suspected it had to do with either a Mark or a lesser power.

Gregory and the Caravan Master looked on, though the Caravan Master eyed the way behind him, as though weighing his chances of splitting and routing. Those two provided me with no value, worse than that, they had been antagonistic towards me and reduced my standing in the group. Gregory had the excuse of youth at least. But the Caravan Master… I shoved him with my good arm. “Aid them!” I demanded of Manny Stillson.

“Why not you?” Manny snarled, taking another step back, closer to Larissen and I, as we had been leading the retreat. “I have not a warrior’s mein.”

His statement may have rung true, for he was no warrior. Other than a knife for food, he carried no weapon, and his soft arms showed he lacked practice with any physical labor. But we were scraping the bottom of the barrel, and Kate had begun to frantically slash, both at the bear’s tendrils, its flank when she could, and the lesser beasts before her, but as she slashed, she received damage along her shins and thighs and off side. The small lacerations bled, bled sweetly. She was my chiefmost ally besides Larissen, and this was how I rationalized my concern. This forced my hand.

I acted for the greater good.

I shoved at the Caravan Master once more.

He protested. “Stop that!” he swore, insulting me with a sneer, though panic was creeping in at the edge of his voice.

“Larissen,” I said in Kaivan, “there is no love for this man. Perhaps his corpulence could delay our enemies?”

Larissen flashed me a feline grin.

“Yes,” Larissen agreed, for he held no love for the fat merchant.

“Stop this at once!” The Caravan Master protested strongly, glaring at me, then more fearfully at the larger Kaivan. Larissen grabbed him by his vest and forcefully turned him so that his front faced the ongoing battle. “No!” Help!”

But none of the human warriors were within range, only the boy Gregory.

“Hey!” Gregory shouted. “Unhand him!”

Gregory pulled his own knife loose, but hesitated, for he was no warrior either. Just a child. An arrogant, spoiled child, who faltered in the face of true adversity.

Larissen began shoving the Caravan Master forward, towards the battle.

“Arm yourself,” I called after him, granting him my advice.

“No!” the Caravan Master screamed.

Muleater glanced behind, at the Caravan Master who was being forced into battle. But it was only a glance, hardly spared, before she turned back to the mikuya jaguar she was currently fighting.

The Caravan Master reached the line and was shoved past Kate, she gracefully stepped to the side near the bear, turning the maneuver into slash, this one upward diagonally against the flank and tendrils, neatly slicing one of its two remaining tendrils in half. The Caravan Master was shoved bodily into a hundeor and kept going, as Larissen used the man as a shield. They breached past the bear’s rear, and Larissen gave the Caravan Master a final shove, sending him falling forward, arms pinwheeling, as the mikuya fell upon him.

Manny Stillson, while a cretin, I will say this: his screams were memorable. And they served an adequate distraction.

“The vial!” I shouted towards no one in particular.

Larissen wasted no time. He crouched down, out of sight from where I was, and came up shortly after with something in his hand. It was large enough to be a whole vial. He slammed it on the ground, ahead of him, near where the Caravan Master writhed and screamed.

This time, glass shattered. A hiss of volume rose up, a mist.

Larissen jumped back, over the bear, still beneath the fog on the periphery of its radius, and clawed his way back while stealing a tendril along the way.

The fogs met, the white with the yellow, and white phosphorescence popped at the surface between the gasses. Heat and miniature stars flared when I stared.

Larissen leapt back from the front of the bear and landed behind our lines. The Caravan Master’s screams amplified, then grew muted as the fog covered him. Eventually, they tapered off into a mewling, which lasted much longer than I had thought.

In a way, I was horrified. A man had died. Granted, the man was a slaver, and likely would have done either me or Larissen in given the chance. But I had motivated Larissen to slay him. I was at least partially responsible for the death. No, I was completely responsible for it. I already planned for ways to recover relations with the surviving humans.

But that was only granted by the luxury of survival. After all, guilt could never be felt by the dead. I hoped.

With the passage sealed, at least temporarily, Kate finished the remainder of lesser creatures. Larissen caught the flyers as they came low enough for his pounce to catch them. Muleater grabbed her sword back from Ken and drove it into the bear’s neck, until the blade went clean through.

The bear struggled on, but the clacking of taut vines and tendrils slowed as it lost more of its mass and sustained more damage. I detected sadness from the bear, but not heartbreak, and not the woe that I would associate with imminent death. Instead, it was the sorrow of a lost or wasted possession.

Soon, the bear stopped emitting any emotion at all, just the stink of infested death.

Muleater finished pulling her sword out from the bear and gave it a kick for good measure. Ken was leaning against the wall, gasping for air, his front a mess of riven flesh. Kate nudged a body into the mist and watched it begin bubbling and warping.

Gregory, however, was not taking well the noble sacrifice of the Caravan Master. In fact, Gregory had finally worked the courage to confront me over it. He had finally drawn his cheese knife and leveled it towards me. Despite the grimy steel pointed towards me, I was unworried. If Gregory truly meant me harm, he would have pulled some artificed device.

And as it was, Larissen was near enough to intervene.

And Gregory knew it.

The other humans began gathering around.

“W-why?!” Gregory shuddered, waving his knife at me. “Why’d you have to kill him?!”

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism (3/9):

Climbing I (1/9)

Featherlight (5/9)

Stealth I (4/9) (+1)

Trackless Tracks (7/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver (1/9)

Evasion (5/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (6/9)

Closed

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)