Chapter Thirty: Whisper
The next morning, Tom and Sesame set out on a longer excursion. Their fight with the giant boar had gone well, but Val wanted them to test themselves against something more challenging.
This soon after a Reaping, many of the creatures closer to Wayrest had been culled. Tom was to hike for a day or more eastwards, camping out overnight, and hopefully find some more exotic monsters to test his mettle against. Val would be nearby, as she had been when they fought the boar, but wouldn’t intervene unless things became truly desperate. The whole point of the trip was to push himself, after all.
The day was calm, at first, with Tom keeping up a steady pace throughout the morning, Sesame easily keeping up with an effortless looking shamble. It was just nearing midday, when the sunbeams lancing through the canopy began to stand almost vertically, that they ran into their first fight.
They passed into a stand of small rugged trees, thick, but not exceedingly heavy and knobbled with age like the grand oak over Val’s home. A glimpse of movement out of the corner of Tom’s eye immediately set his heart to racing. A moment later Sesame was swinging his massive head around, nose twitching as he snuffed at the air, reacting to Tom’s alarm.
The air filled with the sound of wood cracking, like a horse and cart being drawn over dry bark and small lengths of timber. Tom immediately brought his spear about, searching for the source of the noise. As it happened, it came from all around, and left him turning in almost a full circle.
The trees, or what he thought were trees, were shaking and stirring. Bark and dust and leaves swirled as they limbered themselves. Roots lifted from the ground, and the earthy scent of turned soil filled the air.
Wood golems. Tom felt a thread of panic, and forced himself to remain calm. There were four of them, it seemed, and they were surrounded. Wood golems were notoriously tough and strong, but they were also incredibly slow. Tom wasn’t sure whether it was better to simply flee from them. His skillset was definitely not ideal for putting them down quickly.
His decision was made for him. The closest finished shaking itself from its slumber and swept one of its gnarled arm-branches at Sesame. Sesame stoically accepted the blow on one shoulder and then bulled directly into its trunk, attempting to topple it.
The golem’s roots, newly raised from the earth, clenched again, the numerous small wooden tendrils clamping back into the soil. Sesame strained, but was unable to shift the golem from its perch.
As Sesame began to lay into its trunk with his claws, Tom’s attention was dragged back to another of the golems. It had taken its first few ponderous steps towards him, and would trap him and Sesame between the other golem if he let it.
He stepped into it instead, thrusting his spear at its trunk. The blade bit into the wood, and Tom could feel it begin sliding into the softer, flesh-like substance beneath. He was then forced to retreat as it swept one of its branches at him in a lazy arc. He cast Misery at it, then Agony, as he ducked beneath the blow and stepped to circle it.
Of course, circling a wood golem didn’t help much. The beings had limbs on every side of them, like the trees they mimicked. Tom moving to another side of it merely put him in range of another of its limbs, shorter and club-like, which it immediately swung downwards at him.
He stepped back, felt the air rush over his face as the branch sailed past him and struck the earth, sending clods of dirt flying. He struck out again with his spear, finding the join above where the branch met trunk, and cast another Agony as it came off cooldown.
The golem straightened spasmodically, and let out a roar that sounded like a wood groaning under storm winds. Tom stabbed again into its trunk, anywhere he could. The only way he would be able to bring it down was through sheer, overwhelming damage.
He sent a thought to Sesame, urging caution and patience. They would need to ration their energy for this fight, wear the golems down over time. The bear sent him back an acknowledgement, laced with the same caution he had sent. Sesa was more worried for him than he was for himself.
The sentiment made sense. As Tom fought his golem, he caught glimpses of his familiar’s own battle. The bear simply shrugged off blows from the massive branches, his thick fur and fat dampening the impact, the corded muscle beneath providing more than enough strength to withstand the blows. His obsidian claws and teeth seemed to have no trouble splitting wood and bark either.
The only real danger would be losing concentration. The other two golems were slowly moving to help their fellows, but the creatures’ huge, ungainly shapes made it impossible unless they were allowed to.
Tom sidestepped another branch, continuing his unrelenting assault. He had been stabbing and thrusting into the same spot on its trunk, wherever possible, and chunks of bark and wood were chipping off with every strike now. The wound seeped a deep green sap, and pink flickers of lightning snaked in and around the wound, jumping and dancing.
A great crash resounded through the forest. Sesame had finally managed to topple his golem, and was busy savaging the thing as it flailed weakly on the ground.
One down, he thought, sending approval through the bond.
His own fight was slowly producing results. The blows from the golem were becoming more frantic, if you could call the almost lazy seeming strikes that. As Tom layered Agony after Agony upon the creature, it became more and more desperate. As his continued strikes, multiplied by Echo, slowly chipped away at its barky exterior, it swung wildly at him, trying to create space.
Eventually, anticlimactically, it toppled over, Agony’s damage over time finally having run its course. Tom breathed a quick prayer to Goddess for the typeless damage. Without it, he wouldn’t have a hope against the golems.
As the golem fell, he saw Sesame warily circling the remaining two golems. They weren’t advancing on him, instead opting to present a united front. Such tactics were about the largest extent wood golems were known for, not being particularly intelligent beings. Still, it proved effective, Sesame being unable to engage one without the other.
Tom recast Misery on the closest golem to him, working his way around his fallen opponent, careful of it thrashing in its death throes. He followed up with Agony a second later, and the golem flinched, turning slightly, giving Sesame enough time to circle further and attack its comrade alone.
Tom burst forth, repeating the same strategy as before. He picked a spot of its trunk, and began methodically jabbing at it with his spear, settling in for another fight of endurance. This golem was thinner, its branches more like whips than clubs, and Tom had to dodge more frequently, and took more glancing blows from the limbs twisting in unexpected directions. Although he didn’t fear the impact of them quite as much, he was soon smarting from long welts all over his body.
Once again, Echo and Misery proved their worth, returning damage to the golem whenever it hit him. Flakes of bark rained from it as phantom branches and spearheads pecked at it. Only a little extra damage each time, but this was a fight of endurance, and each bit added up.
Tom was not surprised when Sesame finished his fight first. The bear reared up, smashing both its forepaws high up on the golems trunk, above its centre of mass, and dragged its black claws down the length of it. It toppled, just like the last, as the huge weight of the bear and the enormous gashes overcame it.
The last golem was finished quickly after. Sesame simply charged it from behind and, caught between the two of them, they made short work of it. Tom sat down heavily on an overturned stone as the forest settled back into silence.
Okay? he thought at his familiar, just as he received the same query in return. Their amusement at each other rippled and rebounded through their bond, both assured the other was alright.
They sat for a few moments, facing each other, catching their breath. Tom was just about to stand up when Sesame lunged towards him, and he toppled over in fright. He felt something pass over his head.
The bear’s massive paws slammed into the earth on either side of him, and he lay there, stunned, as Sesame unleashed his roar. It trailed off after some seconds, melding into the sound of obsidian shards tearing through foliage and thudding into nearby trees.
Tom rolled onto his stomach underneath his familiar, frantically searching around.
What? Attack? Tom sent to him. Sesame’s reply came just on top of it: anger, outrage.
After another few moments Tom cautiously scrambled to his feet, gathering his spear from where he had left it when they sat. He scanned the nearby woods, just as Sesame was doing, his nostrils flaring as he sought some scent or another, round little ears twitching to catch any noise.
I’m alright. What? Tom nudged, and after a long pause a hazy image formed in his mind.
The image, sent by his familiar, was of Tom, sitting, watching him. All of a sudden a shadow behind him moved, lunged, resolving into a lithe, black, feline form. Its paw flickered out, just missing Tom’s head as Sesame barreled him over. The big cat, just as agile as its smaller cousins, flowed liquidly back into the forest, blending with the shadows before it could be caught in Sesa’s retaliatory roar.
A great shiver passed down Tom’s spine, and he sent a fervent thanks to Goddess for his new familiar. Without him, he would be a head shorter.
He sent thanks to Sesame too, and the great bear simply chuffed a great breath at him.
Coward, was the thought he got in reply, making his thoughts on the ambush clear. Tom sent his agreement.
He dithered for a few minutes as Sesame continued to search the nearby forest for any hint of the cat. Tom didn’t think it likely that would attack again so soon, but he couldn’t rule out another ambush. It made him wonder whether he should return to Val’s oak, but at the same time, it was an excellent opportunity to test himself.
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He had no worries about the cat being able to kill Sesame. The massive bear’s fur would ensure that only a sustained attack could bring it down, and the big cat was more likely to strike and run. Now that they were aware of it, Sesame should hopefully be able to give them enough warning of another ambush, giving Tom time to avoid a killing blow.
Tom didn’t relish the thought of spending the rest of the excursion at high alert, tense as a bowstring, but he could barely think of any better way to hopefully manifest more skills. High stakes situations were just as good for manifesting skills as Ideals.
Decided, he sent a string of thoughts to Sesame, communicating that they’d continue, but remain wary. Sesame sent back a mix of amusement and concern.
Protect you, he got from the bear. Don’t worry. Keep eyes open. I have its scent now. I will smell it.
Tom gave the bear a pat, idly marvelling at its fur. The obsidian attunement seemed to have increased the resilience of the thick black strands without making them sharp, or hard. He was barely even bruised after their fight with the golems, unlike Tom.
As they started their hike through the woods again, Tom pondered Sesame’s defences. The thick black fur cushioned any blows, leaching force from them before it impacted his body itself. Tom found himself a little jealous. It was like having built-in armour.
As his heart calmed from the stress of the ambush, and he thought more about the nature of soft defence, his wisp strobed black. Tom stopped in his tracks.
Skill manifested.
Ideal Two (Complete): Silence.
Skill Four (Complete): Whisper Shield (Passive).
Creates an ephemeral shield of whisper tags around the caster. Incoming physical damage is reduced by a trivial amount. Incoming magic damage is reduced by a low amount.
Incoming physical damage, when reduced, attaches a tag to the attacker. Tag drains a trivial amount of mana from the attacker, then explodes, dealing trivial magic damage.
Tom grinned from ear to ear. Sesame sent him confusion, staring at him and wiggling his little round ears.
Tougher now, Tom sent to him.
Sure, came the decidedly unsure reply.
Tom spent a moment looking at his arms, his legs, his chest, trying to discern any difference. Eventually he noticed slight rippling, like hot air, moving in barely discernible ribbons all around him. It was like staring at a vista through glass, you were aware the glass was there, but you couldn’t really see it unless you focused on it specifically.
Another skill, and another Ideal uplifted to Complete, he thought, satisfied. Now, let’s go hunt a big ass cat.
~~~~~
Tom and Sesame walked for hours more with no sign whatsoever of the black cat. Once, Sesame paused, flaring caution along the bond, but Tom heard and saw nothing. Eventually, the bear lumbered onwards, apparently unconcerned.
In the Academy, they studied all manner of creatures, even ones you couldn’t find in the Deep. Tom thought the cat must be a panther, likely with some kind of dark or shadow attunement, or smoke perhaps. It was much too small to be a tiger, and lacked any kind of stripes or spots from the hazy image Sesame had shown him.
They were ambush predators, and would usually wait to take their prey unawares. They also would not usually risk themselves in an attack, which meant it attacking while Sesame was right there was doubly concerning. It must be starving, and starving beasts would do anything for food. Tom redoubled his alertness upon the realisation.
After another hour or so, Tom had begun to relax slightly. It was at that point, of course, that they were attacked again.
As they walked under a huge tree, with low, spreading branches filled with tiny red blossoms, something tickled the back of Tom’s mind. A second later, realisation hit.
RUN, he sent, and put his own words to action too. To his credit, Sesame didn’t hesitate, and immediately broke into a shambling run right after Tom. As soon as they turned, heading away from the tree, two things happened.
First, the tree burst into motion. Branches began whipping out, spearing towards them, lashing at them, trying to fence them in. Tom skidded, slowing, and Sesame bowled through a small gap, opening a much larger one that Tom followed him through.
Secondly, a thin, sinuous black shape darted away from them where it had been stalking them, ready to pounce. It flowed up a tree like reverse rain, and in an instant, it was gone.
Tom and Sesame slowed outside the range of the thrashing branches, looking all around themselves, up into the canopy, wild-eyed.
Shit, Tom thought. Shit, that was lucky.
The tree they’d unwittingly walked under was known as a Thresher Blossom, known for ripping any animal that walked under them to shreds and using the bodies to fertilise the soil underneath it. The red blossoms, out of place in autumn, had tipped Tom off at the last moment.
Not only that, but the panther was obviously still stalking them. And if it had kept after them this long, it was not likely to give up. Even more concerning, it was the second time it had appeared when they were distracted. The beast was cunning.
Tom made the decision right then. They would head back to Val’s Oak. There was wisdom in knowing when the risks were too high for any reward, and they couldn’t keep eyes in the back of their heads when they were fighting other monsters. He sent the thought to Sesame, and they turned around.
~~~~~
They walked all through the afternoon. With any luck, they should reach the oak again a few hours after dusk. Sesame wasn’t pleased with the course of action, not wanting the cowardly cat to escape justice. Tom had to bribe him with thoughts of the salted fish he knew Val had at her home.
It had been a successful trip, if a tense one. He’d manifested a new skill and uplifted another of his Ideals to Complete. Now, he only had two more skills to manifest, under Survival, and his whole fall would be Complete. At that point, he would gain his pinnacle skill.
Tom was thinking about what it could be as he scanned the foliage around them. Pinnacle skills were unusual. They were a single skill, acting like any other, except that each of the Idealist’s Ideals contributed an effect to it. He was struggling to imagine what a confluence of Suffering, Silence and Survival might produce.
His eyes swept over a mossy boulder, carried on, examining the low hung canopy of some approaching tree. Suddenly, Sesame shouldered him out of the way, rising up onto his hindlegs.
The boulder rose into life. It had obviously planned on surging straight at Tom, and its abortive leap took it straight into the path of the rearing Sesame. The two collided, Sesame striking down on it with his two forelegs, driving it into the earth and spending the gathered energy of its leap.
Fuck! Holy shit! Tom reeled. What he’d taken for a boulder had been another bear, its hide covered in moss and lichen. The pitiful creature was smaller than Sesame, but Sesa’s heavy swipes with his forepaws seemingly hadn’t caused much damage.
Earth attuned? Or rock? Tom thought, before a premonition, some animal part of his hindbrain, sent him twirling around at top speed, bringing his spear to bear behind him.
A black shape was shooting through the air at him, less substantial looking in the late afternoon light. Tom’s spear tugged slightly as it nicked the panther’s side. The cat raked him with its claws as it smashed into him.
Tom was knocked to the ground by it, icy panic flowering in him even as hot lines of fire opened up on his arms and thighs. Luckily, his mail had saved him from the claws penetrating too deeply, and finding the major arteries in his legs. The cat snarled, minor injuries of its own opening from Echo.
Sesame turned and took a deep breath, and the panther slid away, from Tom, backwards into the night. But it stayed just at the edge of pouncing range, its long tail lazily sweeping through the air behind it. Perhaps the sight of prey struggling on the ground was too much to give up on. Sesame let out a great explosion of air as the smaller bear rammed into his unprotected side. Tom struggled to his feet, reclaiming his spear from where it had dropped beside him in the tumble.
Tom had to hope Sesa had his fight under control. Taking his eyes off the panther for even a second would be the end of him. Even staring straight at it, its form seemed to shift slightly, as if the panther was merely a shadow, and the light source casting it was wobbling and sliding slightly.
Tom gritted his teeth around the pain in his arms, levelling the spear at the cat. Roars and thumps and the noise of two huge masses grappling echoed from Tom’s left. He stared down the panther, willing it to make its move.
Misery, he thought, then, Agony.
A thin pink line sprung up between them even as pink lightning began to surface and stab into its sable fur. The panther roared its pain at him, lunging forward, batting at his spearhead.
Tom slid backwards, always returning the spear to centre. Now that he looked closer, he could see that some of the insubstantiality surrounding the cat had a slightly different tone - a few whisper tags.
Tom grinned, his new skill already showing its worth. The longer he kept this fight going, the more the odds tipped in his favour. The cat had lost the element of surprise, and Tom excelled at endurance fights.
As if it had come to the same conclusion, it tipped onto its forepaws, its back up, body wriggling. About to pounce. Tom made sure his spear was pointed straight at it. Right then it released a great hiss, a sound like an impossibly thick sheet of paper tearing, and Tom’s vision blurred. An instant later, he was once again knocked on his back.
The only thing that saved his life was his spear. It had somehow ended up lengthwise between them, and the length of metal was the only thing keeping the cat’s powerful jaws from his neck. He struggled and pushed, unable to find the leverage needed to remove it. Its hindlegs raked his lower body, leaving bright ribbons of pain in their wake.
Agony, Tom hissed right back at it, and was rewarded with a small bark of pain from the animal.
A huge thump sounded through the forest, one Tom felt more through the forest floor than heard. Suddenly, the pressure on him was gone.
Tom rolled to his feet, staring at the retreating shadowy form. Sesame stood over the corpse of the smaller bear, its body studded with chips of black stone.
Oh no you don’t, fucker! he thought. Hush!
The panther’s outline snapped into focus as it flowed away from him, but it didn’t stop. That came a second later, when the thin pink line connecting it to Tom snapped, and it crashed to soil and slid. Tom rushed after it, and pinned it through with his spear. As he did, two whisper tages exploded, blowing tiny gashes into the panther’s hide.
For all the danger it represented, for all its agility and reflexes and speed, the panther was fragile. It died, snarling hate at him, a moment later.
Tom staggered, his legs suddenly almost unable to support him as the adrenaline drained from him. He wobbled and sank to the ground. He was vaguely aware of Sesame standing over him, dim pain radiating down the bond, but overshadowed by concern for him. He nuzzled at Tom’s legs, making small, high noises in his throat.
Bare minutes later, Val’s face appeared over his, Scorn’s fluffy round visage staring at him imperiously as well. Within a few minutes, the pain receded and Tom found himself able to think properly. A few minutes more, and he was right as rain.
Goddess, what I wouldn’t do for a self-healing skill, Tom thought, stretching out his legs. Val was tending to Sesame, the big bear making soft cooing sounds as Val scratched him behind the ears and healed him simultaneously. Scorn looked offended, from his perch on her shoulder. Smitten decided she was due for scratches too, and thrust her head under Tom’s hand.
“Well, day two. Manifest any new skills?” Val asked him with a grin. He was beginning to think she was crazy. All Hunters were, after all.
That was the only reason he was grinning right back at her, mind you.