Chapter Sixteen: Escape
Tom panicked.
He had no time to think of a plan, no time to prepare. The orc was atop of him in a few short steps, the sword descending towards his face.
“Agony,” Tom said, pointing his bound hands at the orc. He felt the pool of mana in him respond, leaping to action, flowing through his body and out of his hands.
Tiny arcs of pink lightning danced all over the orc’s dark red skin before flickering out. The sword halted. The orc grunted in surprise. From Tom’s position below it, he could see its muscles straining and cramping. Every few seconds it would let out another pained grunt, and several more tiny bolts of lightning would arc out of its skin and back into it. It dropped the sword, sinking to one knee.
The falling sword bounced off Tom’s chest, cutting him slightly. He reached out and snatched it with both hands.
The orc grabbed for it at the same time. Tom twisted on the ground, pulling it away from the orc and rolling the other direction.
The orc crawled after him, and he brought the sword up clumsily, thrusting at it. The sword pierced the front of its neck and lodged in its spine. A vaguely surprised expression settled on its face, and it gurgled quietly as it died.
Tom slumped back against the ground, panting. He took a moment to collect himself, but he didn’t have long. He had to escape before morning.
At least if Gad’s screams haven’t drawn the orcs over, my brief fight with the orc probably won’t, Tom reasoned.
He set his hands about the handle of the sword and tugged it free of the orc’s neck. Dark brown blood flooded out after it, soaking Tom’s pants.
He gritted his teeth and began furiously working the ropes binding his hands against the blade, holding it with his knees. The rope was Wayrest-made, taken from them when they were captured, but it parted quickly enough against the edge. That done, he sliced through the ropes about his feet with his now-free hands.
As soon as he was done he couldn’t resist taking a moment to massage his wrists. His manifestation had increased his overall constitution, including his pain resistance, so they weren’t as bad as before, but he was worried several days with them bound had caused permanent damage. They were clumsy, for certain, and tingled with more pain as full circulation returned.
After a moment he turned his attention to the rest of the group. He counted seven of them, including himself and Gad. The soldier they’d rescued was nowhere to be seen. Tom assumed she’d been killed in the original attack, along with Clairvine and two others.
Gad was still passed out. The rest of them were all staring at him with hopeful eyes. Tom admired the discipline it must be taking to keep them from crying for rescue.
Getting beaten by orcs for every noise you make for several days will do that for you, he thought.
He quickly cut them free of their bonds and moved to Gad. The boy was still out cold. Tom had no idea what to do. He couldn’t carry him through the Green, defend himself, and outrun the orcs. He thought about what to do as he cut him free of his bindings.
“Gad!” Tom whispered urgently, shaking him. “Gad! Wake up, man! We need to go!”
He paused when the young student girl, Sam, crept over and put her hand to his neck. She looked at him with tearful eyes.
“No…” Tom said. “Is he..?” He couldn’t even form the question.
The girl shook her head. Tom sat down heavily. He had gotten Gad killed. This would stain his soul forever. Sam grabbed his shoulder, tugging on him.
He let her turn him and found two of the group still waiting with her, both soldiers, neither particularly old. A pair had already fled into the woods, perhaps not trusting they wouldn’t be caught again before they could escape. Tom wished them luck.
“How are you all? Can you move?” he asked them in low tones. They all nodded. He studied them for a moment, and they did indeed seem in one piece. He was no Healer. They likely had a bevy of minor injuries, just like Tom, but at least they could move.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said, snatching up the sheath from where the orc had discarded it, and buckling it on to his belt. “Stick together.” He glanced at the sky. No way to tell how close to dawn it was, but they should have at least a few hours before the sun began its march across the sky.
Tom took one last look at Gad, lying on his back, covered in blood, his chest a mass of fleshy, open wounds. Goddess go with you, Gad Courser, he prayed. Then he fled from the sight, and from his guilt.
They crept back into the forest as a group. Initially, Tom led them back down the same path they had used to reach the river, assured that it led south. After he was sure he had his bearings and that they wouldn’t be heard moving faster through the bush, he led them away at a tangent, heading more west.
They had perhaps two hours at least until the orcs noticed they’d escaped, up to five hours if they were exceedingly lucky. Tom meant to put as much distance between them as possible before they were hunted.
As soon as they were far enough from the camp that they couldn’t be overheard, Tom stopped them and explained in rushed tones that he had manifested. They were amazed, if not surprised - having witnessed his tussle with the guard - but their general exhaustion and need to move prevented any flurry of questions. He promised them he’d do his best by them.
Even with their abused bodies, the two soldiers and young student made good time in their escape. Hope from their unexpected escape and fear at being recaptured lent speed to their steps.
Although he knew that they would shortly be pursued by orcs, Tom marvelled at his newfound constitution. He could move faster, his body was stronger, his reflexes and balance were better. He was more capable now, even with his body battered from a month of Reaping and almost a week of rough captivity, than it had been when he was at full health.
He couldn’t find it in himself to be frustrated at having to match his pace to the rest of the group. He knew his energy would be needed if they were to make it back to Wayrest.
They flew through the undergrowth, heedless of any danger they might run headlong into. They all knew that nothing could be as bad as being recaptured by the orcs. Their luck was with them, and their flight was blessedly free of any encounters with the denizens of the Deep.
The dawn light tickled the canopy leaves and found them running along a relatively clear section of forest alongside a small stream. They followed it for a few miles before deciding to cross. They all took deep drinks before they did, and took a moment to hastily wash out the worst of the grime and dirt from their clothes while crossing. After, they scaled the steep, gravelly slope on the other side, and turned hard to the south.
By Tom’s best guess, they’d been moving for around six hours by this point. Hunger and exhaustion were slowly catching up to them. Tom wasn’t too tired now, but his stomach was still making its unhappiness known.
Tom tried to keep his eye out for anything they could eat as they moved. He wasn’t terrible with woodscraft, but the finer points of it eluded him. He could find fresh water and get his bearings, name many common plants and their uses, but he wouldn’t trust himself not to poison himself picking mushrooms or berries. Without weapons or tools, foraging was essentially their only option to feed themselves, and if they didn’t eat soon, they would collapse.
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They forged onwards, getting slower and slower as the physical exertion and their hunger overtook them. They passed patches of mushrooms growing on the sides of trees, bright red with black spots, and bushes with tiny blue berries perched among the leaves. They even found a tree with what looked like some kind of nuts, hanging from its high branches, but had no way to climb it.
Eventually Sam stopped at a patch of pale blue mushrooms. They were very faintly luminescent in the gloom of the Green.
“I can’t take it anymore! I’m so hungry I feel like I'm going to pass out,” she said.
“You can’t, Sam,” Tom reasoned. “It might kill you. Come on, maybe we’ll find some blueberries, you know they grow everywhere in the Green.”
She ignored him. “If I don't eat, I'll die anyway! They could be safe and we’re gonna walk right by them! Even if they’re poisonous they might not be too bad. They might be mana plants; they could heal us! You know we need to eat, Tom!” she rambled. Tom privately felt the hunger might be making her a little delirious.
Her rant sparked an idea in his mind though. He gently moved her aside and plucked one of the mushrooms from where they were nestled under a fallen tree and popped it in his mouth.
Despite her assertions about their likely safety, Sam gasped, holding a hand over her mouth. The two soldiers looked tired, and perhaps mildly concerned. As Tom chewed and swallowed they watched him with open anticipation.
His wisp, hanging in the air just to his left, pulsed once and text appeared in the middle of it.
Skill activated: Sweet Suffering (Passive).
Sky Shiver Mushroom Poison - Negated: Major buff to strength. Major buff to coordination. Major buff to anti-inflammatory response. Major buff to health regeneration. Duration: Short.
“Well? How about it? Let’s have some, then!” one of the soldiers said. Suiting his actions to his words he grabbed some mushrooms and stuffed them in his mouth before Tom could stop him.
“No!” Tom said. “Spit it out!” But it was too late, the soldier had already swallowed a big mouthful. The other soldier paused with a handful halfway to their mouth.
The soldier began to paw at his throat. Tom grabbed him from behind and squeezed under his ribs with his fists locked together like they’d been taught in the Academy. Chunks of luminescent blue mushroom sprayed onto the forest floor.
It was all for nothing. The soldier began to drag on Tom’s arms, his legs unable to support himself. Within seconds, he collapsed in a heap, seizing and twitching. His face and throat had swelled up to horrific proportions and turned an ugly purple. He died within minutes.
They watched in horror, unable to do anything. The remaining soldier threw away the mushrooms he’d grabbed as if burned by them. They stood in silence for several minutes after.
“What..? What happened?” Sam asked.
Tom wiped his hand down his face before replying. Another person killed by my lack of forethought, he rebuked himself.
“I… have a skill that lets me negate poisons. Those mushrooms, well…” he gestured weakly to the soldier’s corpse.
Sam and the soldier both paled even further. Suddenly, Sam perked up.
“But you can still tell us what is and isn’t safe, can’t you? You’d just have to eat it first and tell us, right?” The hope in her voice was painful. Tom couldn’t blame her, the single mushroom he’d eaten had done nothing for his hunger, even if the major health regeneration buff had soothed his raw wrists and bruised ribs. The fact that the hope of safe food to eat for her had completely overshadowed a gruesome death mere minutes before didn’t surprise Tom at all. For that matter, the soldier was looking at him like a beggar looks at a gold statue.
“Yes, I suppose so. I’m sorry I didn't think of it sooner. This is all so new to me, you know?” Tom explained.
“We don’t care, man. Do we?” the soldier said. “Goddess, man, let’s find something we can eat!”
They began to move again with purpose. The lure of food was a great motivator. Tom grabbed a few handfuls of the Sky Shivers before he left, stuffing them in one of his pockets.
For the next hour, as they travelled, they plied Tom with all manner of potentially edible finds, and he accumulated a growing number of random buffs.
Skill activated: Sweet Suffering (Passive).
Death’s Cheeks Berry Poison - Negated: Extreme buff to health regeneration. Duration: Short.
Shard Moss Poison - Negated: Minor buff to total health. Major buff to bone strength applied. Duration: Moderate.
Hunter’s Rest Mushroom Poison - Negated: Extreme buff to alertness. Extreme buff to stamina. Duration: Moderate.
God’s Eye Apple Poison - Negated: Major buff to mental fortitude. Low buff to health regeneration. Major resistance to illusion. Major buff to perception. Duration: Moderate.
Tom’s pockets quickly filled with a range of useful foods for himself. The horrific death of the soldier tempered his enthusiasm, but he was still in awe at the strength and utility of his Sweet Suffering skill. He would never have to buy potions so long as he could take trips into the Green. He could even just buy raw ingredients for poisons, or cheaper alchemical reagents with negative effects from the alchemists in Wayrest.
With the amount of random food they were trying, they quickly found some that were fit for the rest of the group to eat. Within an hour, they all had full bellies, Tom especially so. Not that he was complaining. He felt absolutely incredible with all the buffs stacking up.
With full stomachs and renewed energy, they continued at a much faster pace. As the sun neared its peak in the sky, Tom began to hope that they’d gotten away cleanly, or that the orcs had simply decided not to pursue them. As they crested a small rise after scrambling up a slippery escarpment, Tom’s newly enhanced ears and increased perception picked up the faint sound of howls and baying on the gentle breeze.
He froze in place, trying to discern how far away they were. Sam asked him why he’d stopped, fear writ large on her face, and he shushed her.
There! he thought. Back down by the stream we crossed. Or at least he thought it was. It seemed about right, but he was no woodsman, and could only make a rough guess. If he was right though, the orcs were still a couple of hours behind them over the terrain they’d crossed.
Then he thought back to how quickly they’d moved through the Deep while burdened with captive humans. Dread settled in his stomach. They had to move. Fast.