My second Talent was one step closer to unlocking.

It had apparently taken that step during the brief almost confrontation with the patrolling gnolls. With only three steps remaining to unlocking a new Talent, I had to recognize two inconvenient facts: the Talent would unlock during my planned heist. I had no way to control what that Talent would be.

This was concerning; if I were to survive, I needed relevant and useful tools. Without conscious selection, there was a significant chance I would receive a sub-optimal tool. Obviously not good. However, without a means to address this problem, I was forced to ignore it and ‘hope’ for the best.

Disturbing.

However, feelings aside, I pressed on. During this period, I never stopped observing the gnoll’s den. Not home. Yes, den. The term fitted these animals.

The entrance was a tunnel dug into the stoney hillside. It began in the crack between two slabs of basalt leaning against each other. The hill itself was large, steep, and formed of gray stone. How the gnolls had dug into the stone: unknown. The hole was far too cylindrical for it to be natural though. Unnaturally so.

It was guarded by a sentry, a gnoll, lounging under the overhanging slab of basalt. The guard appeared unobservant, careless, and slothful. The wind shifted several times, and the gnolls’ combined stink overwhelmed me. There must have been a substantial number of them.

I maintained my vigil for the rest of the day, until dusk came and the gnolls began exiting the cavern.

I counted fourteen of them, and they tended to travel in twos or threes. The cavern appeared just large enough for pairs of them to walk (on all fours) side by side. As they exited, they sprang out and followed the two paths out from their recess corner of the hill. The gnolls appeared unhurried.

When the darkness of night came, and only the distant orange glows illuminated the clouds overhead, the gnolls stopped coming out of the cavern. I assumed that the nocturnal beasts had all left, except for the guard.

I could not overly rely on that assumption, and it would be best for me to observe another day and night.

But my stomach ached and my throat scratched whenever I swallowed.

Body: 32 (+1)

I needed supplies.

I might have lasted this long through whatever magic brought me here, but I needed supplies. These necessities forced me to take the risk. And once the gnoll guarding the cavern appeared to doze off, I made my move.

I came down my side of the valley in a crouch, lowering my profile, and making little to no sound except when my toes clicked against a rock. I kept watch for movement, for any gnolls that might chance across me. Seeing no threats as I reached the valley floor, I crossed, and I avoided stopping until I reached the base of the far hill.

Besides the wind, I heard nothing.

I climbed the hill leading up towards the recess where the gnolls lived. But the hill was formed of loose slate and slagged rock. I placed my paws–feet–carefully, but even then, each step sent stones sliding down, clattering and causing far too much noise.

Before anyone could come to investigate the sound, I climbed quickly to the top. I believed that no one had seen me yet. But when I reached the top, I cast [Chameleon], for if any gnoll came to investigate.

When none did, I realized their security was absolutely atrocious. Good for me, bad for them.

I poked my head around the curve of the hill to peek at the entrance.

The gnoll had woken up from his nap and yawned.

I wondered if the racket I created climbing up the scramble had startled him awake. If that had been the case, the gnoll did not appear to be acting on the noise. Perhaps he solely wished to avoid getting caught snoozing by his cohorts. I imagined that falling asleep while guarding the entrance was a punishable offense.

But while he may have awoken, he still did not appear alert. I pulled back out of sight and dropped my Illusion, allowing my pool of spirit to recharge.

Last minute doubts–concerns–ran through my mind.

The cavern would likely be a dead end, with a single narrow entrance. There was a sentry. There were likely other gnolls remaining inside. There was an unknown amount of time before the rest of the gnolls returned to their den. If not for the caveats to Mother’s Rules, I would have aborted my planned heist. But I truly needed supplies; this den had become my best bet. I could think of no other solution, other than throwing myself on the gnolls’ mercy. Laughable.

Once my spirit had recharged, I shrouded myself in a [Blur] and began creeping towards the entrance.

Moving too slow would see me exhausting my energy and dropping my Illusion before I reached the cavern. Moving too quickly would risk sounds of footsteps or wind, which could alert the sentry. Thus, I traveled at a middling speed, picking each footstep carefully. The trick was knowing my center of balance, and watching my foot placement. And keeping my toes off the ground.

When I reached the entrance, the gnoll posted as a sentry was awake, leaning against the wall, and scratching its ear with a foot.

He was distracted. But the gnolls had shown an uncanny ability to sense me. I could not just assume I could slip by, even with a cover of darkness shrouding me.

I slowed my steps and held my breath. I still had at least ten seconds left on my Illusion. I came within three feet of the sentry, nearly past him.

He sniffed the air.

My heart leapt in panic. I could not stop! I had to keep moving. I was almost in the tunnel, where the absolute darkness should hide me. I had to keep going forward.

The gnoll scratched at its nose with a claw, picking at a nostril.

I took another step. I had five seconds left of safety, of my Illusion. I was almost inside! Another step, just one more–

The gnoll sneezed.

The loud sound startled me and left me jumping forward, into the tunnel, and landing with a roll. I came to a stop in a crouch and froze, waiting.

The gnoll sniffed the air again, but now, I realized it was more of a sniffle. Did the gnoll have a cold? It was further debasing itself by scratching in uncivilized places.

I breathed out in relief. I was safe. At least for the time being.

I continued, further, deeper into the cavern. However, as I traveled I began noticing irregularities with the tunnel which was formed by a continuous and almost-perfect ovoid shape, wider than tall. Melted stone had resolidified, giving walls the appearance of candlewax. There were no signs of damage from claws or tools, at least not enough signs of damage for stone to have been carved. And yet, the gnolls had clearly dug this tunnel, or someone had and the gnolls were squatting. Because if the gnolls could achieve this… no, I did not believe they could have dug this. The scale of the tunnel was too great, the tools or sorcery must have been too advanced.

But if the gnolls did manage to create this, then that could be dangerous. Originally, I had been worried about teeth and claws, but now I would need to exercise care against other possible esoteric threats. Like magic.

At this point, I should have re-evaluated my plan and perhaps cut my losses. However, I refused to deviate from my mission: I needed those supplies, and from all I had seen, the gnolls were likely to have them.

And so, I continued onward.

After several curves in the dark tunnel, I came to a branching hallway. Most of the foot traffic went to the right, judging by the hair and the musky odor. The path to the left was less often used, and smelled slightly more pungent.

Remembering my priorities, to find food, I figured that the most trafficked areas would be wherever their pantry was. So, I chose to go right.

Traveling further, I came to another branching pathway. Here, I froze in a crouch. I heard several yips and mewls coming from a branch to the left. It appeared not all of the gnolls had gone hunting for the night. I shuddered as I heard rustling and something akin to humming and kept moving, sulking, to the right, avoiding the passage with obvious signs of habitation. If I failed to find a pantry this way, then I would come back and check the others.

My right arm itched again, near where I remembered the second Talent sat. Another step closer to unlocking it. I worried what had happened to cause the locked Talent to increase towards the unlocking threshold. And I worried even more about what I would get if it unlocked here and now.

Closed (7/9) (+1)

But these thoughts were distracting. I needed to focus.

I caught the scent of something rotten. Not like waste, but like spoiled milk, with something other. I doubted the gnolls had refrigeration to keep their food unspoiled.

So despite my grimace, and initial gag reflex, I kept moving forward until I reached an opening. I was surprised by the low light conditions that allowed me to see relatively well. Some light was given by a thin layer of lumenent grime smeared along the walls of the cavern. A lichen, or moss? It could not be photosensitive, being this far into the dark. But maybe some other form of chemical synthesis. Regardless, there was now a faint glow that allowed me to see, as oppose to navigating by touch.

I entered the room with a faintly luminescent glow. It was covered in fur and musk. Fortunately, not where the gnolls did their business, but they must have spent much time there. Rotten skins and straw covered the floor, which probably passed as furniture. If this was their living conditions, then they probably were lacking in material goods. I began to reconsider the likelihood that they kept a pantry.

But they had to have one. There were many of them, many that did not leave the den, and not all the gnolls returning to the den came back bearing supplies. Which meant they had to have something here to eat. There was a pantry. There had to be one.

I kept going, navigating the crude sleeping chamber by following the wall, making a circuitous route. I was a quarter of the way through when I heard a snort.

I froze.

The snort had come from about five feet ahead of me and a few feet off the side of the wall, from near the floor. My ears quivered. There was breathing too. How had I not noticed before this? On the ground there was a gnoll sized lump. Its leg twitched and it began yipping.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

My right arm burned once more, right over that locked Talent. It must be getting close. I wished that I could sit down and read, but doing so would be impossible. I would check it later, when the job was done.

Closed (8/9) (+1)

Picking my steps carefully, oh so carefully, and relying on every ounce of stealth I had learned, I continued forward in a crouch, my tail swaying awkwardly behind me with each step. When I was passing by the sleeping gnoll, my tail came too close to the gnoll. I flinched and pulled it back.

The gnoll snorted and moved its arm, scratching its face.

I did not panic. No panic! It was against a Rule. Good girls are always calm and collected. Just like proper girls never swear. But if that gnoll was waking up, then I had no intention of sticking around.

I was around the far side of the room when I heard the gnoll snore once more. Apparently, I was safe. Stressed, but safe. I reached a second exit to the sleeping chamber, one that led to another long cylindrical tunnel, where more of the rotten milk scent emanated from. I continued pressing forward, following the strengthening scent. Further ahead, I noticed that same luminescent glow, similar to the chamber I had just left.

The pantry must be just ahead. I was so close.

I picked each step as carefully as I could; I willed my tail to obey, to avoid alerting any of these animals to my presence. It was difficult for me to control, however, and I was unsure that my tail would not expose me.

It was a liability. A disgusting reminder of–no. No. Stay focused! I scolded myself silently.

For a moment, I paused and considered shoving the–the disfigurement–up inside my jacket. But the thought left me uncomfortable. Not that I was unwilling to experience discomfort, but an instinctual part of me hated the thought. And that bothered me. On a deep level. Why the–why did I have instincts at all?

Well, thinking about it, it made sense. The tail served as a counterbalance. It detected shifts in the air currents. Leaving it out in the open at least let me benefit from the blemish; I would have it either way, regardless of if I got something out of it or not.

I pinched the inside of my wrists, claws scraping soft skin, hurting. Right. I needed to stay on task. While I had been… strategizing, I had reached the entryway to the next chamber.

I paused, just to the side once I came in, allowing my eyes to adjust. Focusing all my senses. Especially my ears. I would not make the same mistake twice.

As I tried to pierce the gloom, I almost made out a shape. I could hear a soft rasp, a rhythmic rasp. There was definitely something in there. From the sounds of it, they were at the back of the room.

The gloom of the room was difficult to pierce, but eventually I did make out their outline. It took me aback.

They were sitting on a crude throne of bones and possibly wood, with more of the rotting skin and furs that I had seen thus far. A throne. Which meant a throne room. Which meant a treasury, because there would be no way that the gnoll-boss let the treasures be anywhere else than beside them. And what would gnolls treasure the most, but food? Which meant a pantry. I had found it, the source of the spoiled milk scent; it was coming from this room, from the pantry.

Despite the good news, I could not allow myself to smile, for the job was not complete.

Now that I knew what I was looking for, I quickly found a secondary tunnel just beside the throne.

That was where the good news ended. Perking my ears up, I did not hear the light snore or regular breathing that I associated with slumber. And while that was not definitive proof, it seemed likely that the gnoll-boss was awake and aware.

Fortunately, I had a spell for that.

“Illusion,” I mouthed.

[Chameleon] surrounded me, this time I tried to match the same dull green pastelle of the glowing grime of the walls. I could almost feel the energy flowing through me, just almost. Though that might have been delusions left from dehydration.

I began to creep along the side, continuously matching my camouflage to the wall. It was not exact, as the grime had been smeared on in irregular patterns, and my shroud was too consistent in coloration to match the walls exactly. But it was close. I just hoped it would be close enough.

The boss gnoll barked something, in that strange language of theirs.

I froze, my ears quivering, my mind counting down the time I could keep the Illusion for at least another thirty seconds.

The boss gnoll tried speaking again. I could almost understand it, but it gave me a splitting headache to do so. My left arm burned again, which meant my ‘Blessings’ were increasing. Lovely.

Mind: 36 (+1)

“Shad … you?” the gnoll boss said.

Or so I thought they said.

I was starting to get a read on their language. Somehow. Probably magic. I felt a growl rising up at the back of my throat that I barely repressed in time. These changes were not consensual, I had never agreed to any of this! And now my body kept changing without my understanding, and certainly not my consent. Infuriating, that was the term.

My right arm chose that second to itch, almost terribly. A horrible thought struck me. What if I unlocked a Talent for linguistic comprehension, or worse, comprehending the gnoll language specifically?

Unlocked (9/9) (+1)

Despite my fears, I could not give them much more than a thought. I would check the tattoos later. For now, focus.

I had around twenty seconds left on my Illusion; I needed to move, could not dawdle.

The gnoll coughed in laughter and then shook their head.

“No … yet,” they said.

I swore that I could almost feel their alertness rescind, which gave me the reckless courage to push forward, though I did take the lightest steps possible. Sneaking really was all about the footwork.

I felt an itch on my right forearm.

The locked Talent. Distracting, but I kept going.

I reached the side chamber behind the makeshift throne. Without pausing, I passed through the threshold and stopped in a crouch. I dropped the Illusion to allow my energy to refill, lest I need the energy for an immediate and emergency Illusion.

Something brushed against my ankle. It had been the slightest pressure. I was unsure if I had truly felt it or not.

I crouched lower, gently reaching downwards with my hand, until my finger traced along a thread at ankle height. A tripline?

The itching burning sensation along my right forearm grew worse.

Ignoring the sensation, I traced the line from where it was embedded in the wall to an eye hook and a few dangling bits of metal and bone. A very crude alarm then. With care, I stepped over and past the tripwire. Each step, I paused to carefully feel out any other potential traps, careful to verify there were no pressure plates or caltrops or anything else that these animals could think up.

Down went the pad of my foot behind my toes, a hesitant tap to feel for abnormalities, then I would commit to the step. The meticulous process led me into the back room, where I discovered uneven wooden shelving on one wall, and a trunk pushed against the back wall.

I also discovered the source of the rotten milk stench.

Sitting on the shelves were burlap sacks. I investigated all of them, expecting a pantry of food, even if partially rotten. There were grains that smelled like urine, and a damp and moldy flour in another. Either way, I thought they were inedible, even in my starved state.

I would need to be far hungrier before I tried eating that.

Sitting on another shelf was what could possibly be bread, if bread was supposed to be burnt black and somewhat glossy. When I grabbed it, my fingers sank in like the bread was actually damp mush. Maybe it was. I passed on that as well. And then there were gray tubers that almost looked like carrots. Both the tubers and the maybe-bread stank like death.

Was gnoll food inedible?!

From hooks, there were two carcasses hanging, both of them looked to be some sort of humanoid. Both had chunks missing from them, and already gutted. I might be hungry, but I was not that hungry. It did look tasty though, by far, the most appetizing thing I had seen yet. But no–too close to cannibalism.

Surely there had to be something of value here, at least food wise.

There was an untapped, unopened barrel, which might have contained water, and I was sorely tempted to check, but was unable to, unless I wanted to make a lot of noise to alert the gnoll-boss sitting just outside.

What was promising on the fluid front, was hanging along a wall above the barrel. I had missed it at first: a flagon on a shoulder strap. That, I took, and slung it around my shoulder. It hung too low on my hips, so I had to wear it crosswise. Only slightly inconvenient, but worthwhile.

After that, the only thing left to check was the trunk.

My left arm itched once more.

Mind: 37 (+1)

Ignored. On one hand, I loved that I was improving. On the other hand I disliked the persistent pain from the updating tattoo which I had no say in. And it was distracting.

Pushing myself back on track, I prowled over to the chest, ignoring the itch that now was on my right arm. I reached the trunk and felt along the seam. I found no obvious traps, though there was a simple locking mechanism. I poked the lock and gently tried lifting the lid. It moved a fraction before catching on the latch. It seemed simple enough.

This time I let myself grin.

In my right breast pocket hidden in the inner lining, I kept a flat and narrow leather case about the length of my finger. I pulled it out and kissed it for luck, then opened it and pulled out the torque and the pick.

My left arm itched more strongly than before. Ignored, once more.

Mind: 38 (+1)

I set the torque and began probing the pins. I only felt three of them, making the lock incredibly simple. Ten seconds later, and the last pin slid into place, and the lock spun.

It clanked into position and I mentally swore. I froze for seconds, with my tools in place, terrified of moving a muscle. My ears swiveled and quivered, seeking any sound. The gnoll boss coughed, but otherwise gave no inclination that they heard.

I was sliding my tools out and gently lifting the lid when I heard the barking. It was distant but approaching. Had one of the gnolls caught my scent? Either way, my time was incredibly limited. I finished opening the trunk, a bit faster, and a bit careless of the rusted hinges. The barking outside was loud enough to cover the hinges. I hoped. I risked.

Inside I found a leather backpack and a few trinkets. Not knowing what any of it was, I filled the backpack and put it on while testing the straps to make sure they were snug.

Meanwhile, outside in the throne room, a gnoll came running in, panting for breath. I kept half an ear on their conversation, though listening to them left my head aching. Inexplicably, I found myself understanding more and more of their language.

“What?” The gnoll sitting on the throne asked, who I presumed was the boss. I could not get a read on their gender from their voice. It oscillated and snarled between the barked consonants.

“Den Mother … … approach!” the other gnoll said. The gnoll-boss was called Den Mother. That might explain the spoiled milk smell.

More importantly, something or someone was coming. I figured it would be time for me to slip out while everyone was busy. Reactivating my [Chameleon], I once again began sneaking out, following a circuitous route, and stepping over the tripwire.

My steps were a bit different now with the weight, and I used my hands to hold the flagon and my tail in place, to prevent any risk.

The burning on my right arm grew almost unbearable, and for a second, I felt the fire race out from under my skin, from my arm to my forehead to my feet, everywhere. Sweat instantly began beading along my forehead before getting sucked back in. My armpits dried. My feet felt light and impossibly floaty. And then everything settled back down. I stumbled.

Unlocked: Stealth (1/9): Trackless Tracks (1/9)

The two gnolls paused for a moment.

“Sludge? Why?” the Den Mother asked. “... sure?”

“What … do?” the other gnoll asked.

I risked a glance out from the ‘treasure room’ and into the throne room. The other gnoll looked like it might have been the same one that had been ‘guarding’ the entrance. It was hard to be certain. But I was starting to have a very bad feeling about this. Since neither of them were scanning the room for the noise, I continued, wondering just what Talent I had unlocked.

The Den Mother abruptly stood up.

“Come!” she barked, standing up.

I might not have known where she was planning on going, but the way she was angled when she said that… I just knew that I needed to leave. Immediately.

Stepping over the tripline once more, I crept out from the treasure room and began traveling along the walls, just as the Den Mother turned and began striding into the very room I had just departed from. I kept moving, not stopping, perhaps picking up the pace while maintaining my Illusion.

I heard her begin rummaging around in there, and the other gnoll followed her.

After a moment, she shrieked.

I started running.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

* Body: 32 (+1)

* Mind: 38 (+3)

* Spirit: 40

Talents:

* Athleticism (1/9):

* Climbing (2/9)

* Stealth (1/9)

* Trackless Tracks (1/9)

* Closed (1/9)

Spells:

* Illusion (3/9) (+1)

* Closed (0/9)

* Closed (0/9)

Gifts:

* Obsession (2/9)

* Closed (0/9)

* Closed (0/9)