The smell of smoke was thick, the heat of the flames making Del’s skin tighten painfully.
Desperately, he looked around, his vision obscured by a suffocating haze. Where was the door? The oily smoke coiled and swirled around him, clinging to his throat and lungs like an unwelcome guest. Ash coated his tongue, a bitter taste that made him gag and cough as he fought for breath.
Dropping into a crouch, he scrambled forward blindly, searching for breathable air, his hand outstretched and groping for something—anything—solid. A wall. A door. A window. His head pounded with the urgency of escape. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes and mingling with the tears that evaporated almost as quickly as they fell, leaving his eyes raw and dry.
His hand collided with something metal—hot, blisteringly so—but he gripped it anyway. Pain flared, but his desperation overrode it as he twisted and yanked the handle. The door gave way, and he fell forward, collapsing onto the ground outside.
The air, though tainted with smoke and the acrid tang of burning, filled his lungs with a welcome coolness. Gasping, he tried to steady himself, but his reprieve was short-lived.
Chaos erupted around him. Screams tore through the air, mingling with the roar of flames and the violent pops and bangs of structures succumbing to the inferno. Everywhere he looked, fire raged, consuming everything in its path. Figures darted through the flames—men, women, children—some engulfed, others desperately fleeing the encroaching disaster.
Del’s breath hitched as he watched helplessly. The few who tried to fight the flames with buckets of water were outmatched, their efforts swallowed by the consuming fire. The cries of the injured and dying stabbed at his ears, an unrelenting cacophony that made his chest tighten.
He fell to his knees, powerless, as the world burned around him.
A weight suddenly pressed down on his face, smothering him, stealing what little air he had left. He clawed at it, panicked, unable to breathe—
With a jerk, Del sat bolt upright, neatly flinging Misty from his chest. She landed on the ground with a startled meep, glaring at him with clear reproach.
He blinked rapidly, disoriented, as his heart thundered in his chest. The stream burbled nearby, its tranquil sound a stark contrast to the chaos still echoing in his mind. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze whispered that he was safe, yet his body remained drenched in sweat, and his hands trembled as he clutched his knees.
“Fuck,” he muttered hoarsely, running a hand through his damp hair. On shaky legs, he stumbled to the stream, sinking to his knees by the water’s edge. The cold shock as he plunged his head beneath the surface helped chase away the lingering images of fire and screams.
Stripping off his sweat-soaked garments, Del laid them out on a rock to dry in the warm sunlight. He waded into the stream, the icy water biting at his skin as he sat in the shallows, letting the current wash over him.
‘Damn nightmare. Can’t remember the last time I had one of those—and too damn real for my liking.’ The memory lingered, sharper than it should have been, as though the fire and destruction had been etched into his mind. For a moment, he wondered if it was more than a nightmare. A warning, perhaps.
‘Not really surprising, dreaming batshit crazy stuff,’ he thought, chewing on a piece of bread after drying off. ‘Damn, Del, you should be screaming and banging your head on a wall with all that’s happened.’ He tilted his head, considering. ‘Then again, maybe you have gone mad, and this is what the inside of a padded cell looks like through psycho eyes.’
Misty, perched midstream on a small rock, flicked her tail and gave him a disdainful glare. She batted a fish out of the water, sending it flying so close that it almost hit him.
“Alright, alright, cat,” Del said with a rueful smile. “I wouldn’t drag you into my crazy. So I guess that means we’re not in some cuckoo land after all.” He gestured to the stream. “Now see if you can grab a few more of those tiddlers, and we’ll make a supper of them later.”
Once dressed, Del headed back into the woods. He moved carefully, keeping his steps light and watching his surroundings with a wariness that he hoped would soon be an easier and more natural thing for him. The trees here weren’t dense, their thick trunks reaching upward in grand displays of strength. Their large, deep-green leaves created a dappled canopy that painted the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow.
The air smelled of fresh greenery, with hints of wildflowers and damp earth. Birds called to one another in melodies that fell silent as he passed, only to resume moments later when they sensed he wasn’t a threat.
[Sneak has improved slightly. Try not to get caught.]
BB’s sudden intrusion made Del jump, and he glanced around reflexively before letting out a shaky laugh. “One day, BB. One day I’ll get used to you.”
Making a rough circle around the stream, Del moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement. The light dappled through the canopy above, casting shifting shadows that danced across the ground. Each step was deliberate, his boots crunching softly against the carpet of leaves and twigs.
The forest around him felt alive, every sound amplified in the stillness—the distant chatter of birds, the occasional rustle of undergrowth, and the faint hum of insects darting through shafts of sunlight. The air carried a subtle mix of scents—earthy and fresh, tinged with the faint sweetness of distant blooms.
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Pausing, he knelt by a patch of soft earth where faint impressions marred the soil. Leaning closer, he studied the tracks, their delicate shape unmistakable. They seemed to belong to a rabbit. Nearby, slightly deeper prints hinted at a hoofed creature, likely a small deer that had passed through earlier.
‘Sooner or later, I’ll need fresh meat,’ he thought, his stomach already growling faintly at the idea. ‘Or consign myself to a diet of Misty’s tiddlers. Not the most enticing option.’
The idea of tracking and hunting seemed daunting, but the practicality of it loomed large in his mind. As his gaze swept the forest once more, his eyes lingered on every flicker of movement, the thought of goblins lurking nearby refusing to leave entirely. Still, the lack of tracks or disturbances reassured him—for now.
A faint herbal scent caught his attention, carried on a light breeze. Turning toward it, Del sniffed the air, curiosity piqued. After a few moments of searching, he found the source: a small plant nestled in the shadow of a bush. Its tiny green leaves and subtle fragrance were unlike anything he recognised.
“Identify,” he murmured softly.
Feldspar: A medicinal plant useful in tinctures and poultices to ease bruising and reduce pain.
He crouched carefully, plucking the plant and tucking it into a pouch. ‘Useful,’ he thought, rolling the word over in his mind. ‘Damn it, Del, I wonder how many other useful things I’ve idly walked past.’
With a renewed sense of purpose, he began scanning the undergrowth more closely as he continued back toward the stream. The rich, loamy scent of the forest floor grew stronger as he sifted through leaves and soil, uncovering a surprising array of mushrooms hidden among the damp shadows.
Most were the basic, edible sort—nothing special, but something to note for later. Two others, however, caught his eye.
“Identify,” he said again.
Spintofore: A hallucinogenic fungus. Don’t sniff the spores, and definitely don’t eat the cap.
Sombercap: Toxic. Can be used to make a mild paralytic poison. Can be used to coat weapons.
The warnings were stark, but their potential usefulness was clear. Del pulled a rag from his pack, carefully gathering the fungi without letting them touch his skin. Their vivid colours—bright oranges and deep, shadowy purples—stood out starkly against the muted greens and browns of the forest.
[You have learned the skill: Herbalism. Identify and gather more plants and fungi to expand this skill further.]
A grin tugged at his lips despite the gravity of the day. ‘Nice one, Del,’ he thought, the message buoying his spirits. ‘Seems I can pick up skills by trial and error. Now I just need to figure out what earns them or upgrades them.’
As he approached his earlier campsite, he paused to gather fallen branches and brush, his arms quickly filling with dry, brittle sticks. The faint scent of pine resin clung to the wood as he carried it back, the weight oddly comforting in its tangibility.
Building a fire brought a small but significant comfort in a world that felt increasingly unpredictable. The snapping and crackling of flames as they caught and grew was a welcome sound, and the warmth was a steady presence against the cool forest air.
By the time Misty returned with her catch—a small pile of fish—Del’s stomach was growling in earnest. Gutting and cleaning the fish was a messy but necessary task, the slippery scales glinting faintly in the firelight. Soon, the aroma of roasting fish filled the air, mingling with the wood smoke and making his mouth water.
A couple of hours and a small pile of fishbones later, Del leaned back with a comfortably full stomach, staring into the glowing embers of the fire. The warmth seeped into his skin, soothing the lingering tension from the day’s events.
‘What’s next?’ he wondered, his mind spinning with possibilities. He’d survived another day, but that wasn’t enough. He needed a plan—a way to secure food, shelter, and safety beyond the fleeting security of a campfire. The thought was daunting, but not impossible.
One thing Del knew for certain—he needed to practice using the bow. His single shot during the goblin fight had gone so wildly off target that he might as well have been aiming at the moon. The memory made him grimace. Accuracy wasn’t just a matter of pride now—it was a matter of survival. If he couldn’t hit a moving target, the next encounter might not end so favourably.
More importantly, he needed to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer the person he used to be. The old Del, the one who had spent his days in comfort and convenience, was gone. This version of himself had to buckle up and grow a stronger stomach. The goblin had been the first, but it wouldn’t be the last creature he’d face that wanted to kill him—or worse still, eat him.
‘Let’s hope it’s kill, then eat,’ he thought grimly. ‘I really don’t fancy it being the other way around.’ The idea sent a shiver racing down his spine, and he shook his head to dispel the gruesome image.
The bow he’d salvaged from the goblin was crude and small, but functional. The original twenty arrows he had were slightly oversized for it, but they’d work in a pinch. The goblin’s quiver added another fourteen smaller arrows to his supply, giving him a decent reserve—for now. But arrows broke or got lost far too easily, and while his basic archery skill provided some knowledge on repair, it didn’t cover crafting new ones. That was something he’d have to figure out sooner rather than later.
Del crouched by the stream, his gaze flicking toward Misty as she sat on a rock midstream, methodically grooming her fur. “Misty,” he said aloud, drawing her attention. Her ears twitched, and she tilted her head, fixing him with her quizzical golden gaze.
“We need a plan,” he continued, gesturing toward the forest. “We need a few things: a place to train, better food, and, ideally, a settlement of some kind. I think we’ll find what we’re looking for if we can locate people—or at least signs of them. What do you think?”
Misty paused her grooming, glancing up and downstream as if weighing the options. After a moment, she fixed her gaze on the flowing water, her tail flicking lazily.
Del felt the familiar nudge against his mind—her silent way of agreeing.
“I think you’re right,” he said with a small smile. Misty’s quiet companionship had been invaluable. Despite everything, she kept him grounded in the moment. “In the meantime, we’ll keep an eye out for anything that might want to eat us—and maybe something a bit more satisfying for dinner than fishbones.”
Misty gave him a long, languid blink before leaping from her perch, her lithe form disappearing into the undergrowth. Del watched her go, a faint grin tugging at his lips. Her simplicity, her focus on the here and now, was something he envied.
He adjusted his gear, slinging the bow over his shoulder. The forest around him felt vast and unpredictable, the shadows between the trees shifting in the fading light. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with risks and challenges he could only begin to imagine.
Still, step by step, he would figure it out.
As the distant sound of Misty’s paws faded, Del set off after her, his resolve hardening. Survival wasn’t just about reacting—it was about preparing. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, he was content to focus on the simple, immediate goals: keep moving, keep learning, and keep surviving.