Freeing the captives took about half an hour, all told. Before each was released, Sean had Gel extract a promise of good behavior from them in addition to what they had already agreed. The bird man – who was actually a member of a race called the ‘Owlen’ – silently eyed Sean for two whole minutes before consenting with a solemn nod. Apart from a few grumbles from the old man known as Bernard, there were no other troublemakers.
Sean was relieved he hadn’t been forced to kill anyone to make a point, and doubly so that his instincts hadn’t gotten the better of him. After he had gotten past his desire to murder the lot of them for their heart’s blood Sean had felt a distinctive unease come over him. Unease that mixed with a quiet, cold rage whenever he got too close to any of them.
It felt like the same kind of revulsion one might normally associate with a large, hairy spider that had gotten uncomfortably close. A feeling that told Sean he should strike first to protect himself. Especially at the owlen. Whatever was running through that one made Sean’s bones crawl in the same way his skin used to, and Sean could tell from their own reactions to him that the former captives felt much the same way. Some, at least, were polite enough to try and hide it.
But not all.
Which was, of course, exactly why Sean had insisted on freeing them himself instead of allowing the one called Daerkin to do it. He needed to get the measure of who he was dealing with. These were the first ‘people’, of a sort, that he and Gel had come across who might be able to give them valuable information on this new world. They would need to be able to work together. To master whatever natural revulsions their different species had for one another. For a time, at least.
It didn’t help that Gel kept up a running dialogue in his head as they worked. The slime speculated cheerily the entire time, wondering which of their many seasonings would go best with whom, should that particular individual happen to find themselves roasting over an open fire. Gel had a number of ideas on how to best cook the one who had insulted him, Bernard, and each was more impractical than the last.
Sean did his best to keep the smile off his face as they worked. It would send the wrong message.
By the time the entire group was free the slime warrior had managed to learn most of their names along with several rather unfortunate things.
“Wait, none of them can use their abilities?” Sean asked Gel, fixing Bernard with a dubious stare. The old man – who had insisted made special note of the fact that he was a ‘geomancer’ – was currently hefting his still-unconscious protege Karson onto his shoulders with the help of the lizardkin.
“Nope.” Gel responded brightly. “Their mana isn’t regenerating either. See those purple spots all over their skin?”
“Yeah.” It was the first thing Sean had noticed once they had started freeing people. Ripping them out of the fungal growth had revealed multiple connection points where their shroom-prison had actually connected directly to the bodies of those held inside. They hadn’t bled when the bond had been broken, what remained attached to them had simply sunk into their skin. Thick, purple track marks just below the surface spread out from each of the affected regions.
“That’s got to be it. The fungus is using their own bodies as fuel to take them over.” Gel explained, and the slime seemed so completely confident in his deduction that Sean didn’t question it. It made sense, after all. “The scaled one in charge said the conversion percentage went down when we freed them, so that probably helped. But it didn’t go away.”
“Does that mean they’re all dead when it finishes then? They just haven’t gotten there yet?” Sean wouldn’t wish a fate like that on anybody, and while he felt supremely vindicated in having enacted their “dissolve all spores” cleanliness plan earlier – he still felt a little pity for these people.
Hell of a way to go out. Sean thought, wondering if a few of them would be asking for a final mercy before the time came.
“Not necessarily.” Gel hedged. “Their bodies are still fighting it off, or else they would have succumbed already. Now that they aren’t lodged into the source of it, there’s a good chance they’ll be able to recover on their own, given time. Assuming the ants don’t eat them first. Are you going to make them fight with us?”
“They don’t look like they can.” Sean commented, and the slime grunted in acknowledgement.
They had managed to rescue twelve people. Two ‘lizardkin’, the owlen who hadn’t stopped watching him, two ‘fennekians’ which Sean thought looked entirely too cute and cuddly to be real, much less city guards like they claimed to be, a turtle-man, and the rest were human. It also looked like most of them knew each other – but not all. The sturdiest on their feet by far were the lizardkin, but only one of them looked like he would be worth anything in a fight.
“Baerlin” was that one’s name, and he was both mute and polite. Gel couldn’t make anything of the hand gestures he used to communicate, but Sean hadn’t needed a translator to interpret the lizardkin’s bow of respect on being freed. Baerlin, having finished helping get Karson safely onto Bernard’s shoulders, was now working on excavating a particularly large stone from the ground. It looked like the lizardkin intended to use it as a weapon. Sean liked him already.
“That one might be able to help.” Gel pointed out. “But I doubt the rest will be any use to us.”
“We’ll take them to that supply room you mentioned, see if there are any weapons there. I don’t mind helping out, but sooner or later we’re going to need one of them to step up. Especially if ants start coming from multiple directions.” Sean said, then his orbs flicked over to the captives they hadn’t yet freed. The ones with mushroom stalks growing out of their orifices, who were too far gone now to even respond. “Do you want to eat them before we go?”
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“Is that a real question?” Gel asked, with something like true concern in his voice. “I hope that’s not a real question.”
“Fair. Do you think any of them will object?” Sean asked, gesturing over at the cavern’s recently freed occupants.
“Not as hard as I’ll object to leaving free meals on the ground.” Gel said in a tone that made it perfectly clear what he thought of the opinions of others. “Besides, what are they going to do about it? We’re their way out of here.”
The owlen, who Sean had learned was named Saren, seemed to realize what was about to happen as the pair made their way over to the first of the fungal-heads. The bird man approached swiftly but cautiously, all-too-human fingers that ended in sharp, talon-like nails pressed together in what Sean assumed was a meditative gesture. Like the owlen was trying to form a pyramid with his hands.
Saren said a few short words in a gentle voice that somehow reminded Sean of the forest, and then inclined his head and one of his hands towards the fungal-heads.
“He wants to know if we’ll let him say a prayer before we eat them.” Gel reported, then added for Sean’s benefit. “Gold Spire is pretty big on prayers for the departed. Guess he thinks they’re already dead.”
They weren’t. Sean’s pulse sense confirmed that fact, even if the reading he got from them was weaker than he had ever seen. The mushrooms had taken over almost all of the veins tracing the bodies of the fungal-heads, but not all.
“Tell him to go ahead.” Sean said. “We’ve got time. Especially if any of these guys have mana left in them.”
“I doubt it, because of the infection.” Gel pointed out. “But I still vote we eat them all anyway.”
Gel passed along their permission, and Saren bowed his head fractionally towards them before walking up and placing a hand next to - but not on - the one in front of them. He said a few more words, and Saren’s palm glowed yellow for only the briefest of instants. Sean felt his left hand twitch in the owlen’s direction at the words, and for a second the slime warrior felt the bones of his black hand ripple. As if the prayer had been a pebble tossed into still, deep waters.
“What did he say?” Sean asked Gel. He was quiet, even though there was no reason to be. It’s not like the owlen could hear inside their heads.
“May you find solace and succor at the end of your path.” Gel intoned, and even the slime’s tone was respectful. “Know that the joys you have sown are remembered, and the burdens you have now been freed from will be overseen by those who yet walk in the light.”
Sean raised his non-existent eyebrows, the ridge above his eye sockets lifting in surprise. He hadn’t expected a real answer. Nor a prayer that felt so… personal. Out of respect, Sean inclined his head to their next meal as well, though it felt more like saying grace than anything. Saren’s face turned to regard him on an axis entirely separate from his shoulders. Then, without another word, the Gold Spire paladin moved on to repeat his prayer.
“Are you still against eating human?” Gel asked the second the moment was over. “Because this is going to take a while if you are.”
The slime’s arm reached out, intending to grab some of the fungal-head in front of them. Instead of only pulling away a piece, the long-gone human’s head popped off as if it really were made of mushroom.
“Oh.” Gel said, surprised. “Or maybe not.”
“You can take the heads, I’ll scoop out the rest.” Sean conceded. “But it’s still going straight to you.”
“Deal!”
The pair moved quickly, and thanks to the rather crumbly quality of the fungal-heads, clearing the room didn’t take very long. Two of the humans Sean hadn’t gotten the names of vomited, and after that the group apparently made a collective decision not to watch. They talked quietly amongst themselves while Baerlin, Daerkin, and the two fennekians dug out more rocks from the earth around them to serve as weapons.
When all was said and done, Sean and Gel were able to extract a total of five mana and as many experience points from the fungal-heads. Suitably replenished, Sean strode back towards the cavern’s entrance. Before exiting, he turned to face the group that had begun to follow them.
“Alright, a few ground rules.” Sean announced, counting on Gel to translate for him. “First up: Don’t engage unless we tell you to. We’re not responsible for your safety, but combat is dangerous and these things shoot acid. So while we will try to assure it wherever possible, if you make our job harder or get in our way it might just get you killed. Second: You’re free to leave anytime, but we’re only going to protect those who stay with us. If you get lost, that’s on you. Keep up, or get left behind.”
Sean waited a moment to ensure that Gel had time to get to all that, and then continued once the slime had stopped speaking. It didn’t take as long as he had expected. This ‘peasant’ tongue must be an efficient one.
“Third: Keep quiet unless spoken to. We’ll talk when there’s time, because I still have questions for you all, but we don’t need any more unwanted attention than we’re already likely to get.” Sean made sure to make eye contact with each of their new group as he got to the finale. “Last up: Anyone who tries to sneak a hit in when our back’s turned is getting eaten. No exceptions, and no second chances. We made a deal to help you get out of here, and we’re going to honor it – so we expect you to honor your side.”
Again, it took Gel almost no time at all to convey the message. A suspiciously short time, actually. The already pale faces of his freed people paled even further. Bernard looked like he wanted to glower, but had already thought better of it.
“Gel, what did you tell them?” Sean asked, making only a token effort to keep his exasperation out of his voice.
“Stay out of our way, run if you want, and keep up if you want to live.” Gel reported merrily. “Keep your meat flaps closed unless spoken to, and if anyone tries anything then they have just volunteered to be breakfast.”
The slime warrior briefly considered asking his friend to give the full explanation he had just given, but then he ran Gel’s words back through his head. The slime had captured the gist of the message. Even if he had been about as tactful as his battle-axe.
“Right, well… I suppose that works. Let them know we’re going to the supply room next then.” Sean said, turning as he began walking out of the cavern.
Gel belched out a few more words, then to the horror of several of the people following them, a pair of eyeballs popped out of the back of Sean’s midsection. They swiveled to look directly at Bernard, and Sean’s right arm twisted unnaturally all the way behind his back to point first at the eyes… then at Bernard.
The old man gulped involuntarily, and nodded as the group exited the cavern and reentered the tunnels. A few of the other humans adjusted their pace, wisely deciding to put some distance between themselves and the geomancer foolish enough to have angered their rescuer.