Perhaps not through Dominate, though. Not right now, at least. At the moment, the larvae are complete babies and I’d feel bad about crushing their nascent Wills, since I doubt I’d be able to negotiate with them. It might even do damage to their souls – now that I know that the Battle of Wills is linked to the soul-space somehow, and am far more familiar with both arenas, I suspect that it’s actually likely to happen if they put up any resistance.
But I’m not willing to keep around creatures such as these without some sort of Bond in place. Which leads me onto the next idea: using Tame instead.
Honestly, I really haven’t explored that Skill nearly enough considering how it’s one of the two Skills I gained right at the beginning. I’ve used Dominate so much it’s got to Initiate level; Tame only passed into Novice rank recently when I Tamed Lathani. Perhaps this will help it catch up a bit with Dominate.
However, I sense that first I ought to offer them some food – and not my Bound who they will no doubt turn to eating once they’ve fully finished consuming the eggs from which they hatched. Not to mention their unfortunate sibling.
Getting them out is simple enough. Flaking away the skin to which the protective webbing is attached, the nasty incubation area in Fenrir’s side is easily revealed. As I look at exactly what’s been hidden beneath, I have to admit feeling pretty sick, and wondering whether I really do want to leave any of these larvae alive. After all, having fewer creatures which propagate in this way has got to be a good thing.
Then again, as long as the larva is fed and protected, surely it doesn’t have to eat meat which is still on a living creature. Well, I guess I’ll find out.
Based on the relatively small entrance wound and the way Fenrir’s skin is bulging around the hatchlings, I have to guess that the danaris had had some sort of ovipositor, inserting its eggs into the flesh of its victim. I suppose it makes a sick sort of sense – if the eggs only just fit in, they will be harder to get out, and more protected than a massive open wound besides.
Not that that makes much difference for me.
Gently pouring mana into the area, I expand the size of the wound, then start healing the damaged area so that the hatchlings are forced to and then through the hole by which they had entered. They fall on the ground with a wet sort of thud, immediately scrabbling at the ground and showing signs of distress. I’m not surprised, but I’m not particularly sympathetic either. Yes, they’re relatively defenceless babies…but that’s my lizog they were going to eat through.
Taking a moment to pull another small carcass out of my Inventory, I create a little area around it with sticks pulled from my Inventory. Placing the larva and the unhatched egg in it – at opposite sides of the area just in case the moving larva wants to continue its cannibalism – I cover the area with my shirt. The reason I do that is because I suspect the environment might be a bit breezy for them; they’re used to the protected environment of Fenrir’s body, after all.
That done, I turn my attention back to healing my sluggishly-bleeding Bound, sending a brief thought to my other Bound to keep an eye that the creatures don’t escape. Continuing with the healing, I make sure to take extra care in pushing out any further foreign bodies – whether bacterial or material – and letting them drain with the blood.
It doesn’t take too long before Fenrir is healed as good as new, not even a scar showing any indication of what happened. It’s taken a lot of mana – of course – but staying in Light Meditation has definitely helped me regain what I used more quickly.
Fenrir is delighted to finally be free of the nagging pain in his side, and leaps at me again to express his joy. I can’t resist stroking him and making a fuss of him too – at times I was worried that I might lose him forever.
Now that the most important task is done, I need to think about other matters: what to do in the immediate future.
It’s dark for one thing. Though heading back through the forest is possible, and may not even be too dangerous considering the group we have, it’s certainly more risky than travelling in the light. The dark would hamper Sirocco and me in particular who don’t have very good night-vision, for one thing.
Even though the others have reasonable or good night-vision, none of them are primarily nocturnal creatures so it would still impact them. That would mean that we’d have to slow down so as not to trip over roots and break ankles or legs.
Honestly, it makes more sense to stay here until dawn and then travel back in the light, but I put the question to my Bound. The response is unanimous: stay here.
Well, that makes the decision easy, I think with a little humour. I suppose it’s not too surprising that they’d agree on that: it was a tiring journey here, and then an exhausting fight with the danaris. Not to mention that several of them had been hunting before Fenrir was kidnapped anyway. They want their sleep; so do I, if I’m honest.
The next question, of course, is where to stay. Remaining inside the cavern should be the easy answer since here we’d be protected from the elements and less likely to suffer from a surprise attack. The problem there is that it’s not exactly quiet in here. And it stinks.
The other webbed-off caves each have their own occupants, beings which are scared, in pain, and unhappy with their current accommodations. Trapped, with no occasion to leave for a toilet break, they’ve no doubt defecated and urinated in their areas, from terror and agony if not need. It certainly smells like they have, and the evidence in Fenrir’s erstwhile cell supports this theory.
The stench is probably ignorable enough to sleep, if I could cold-heartedly block out the sounds of so many creatures’ suffering, but there is another factor to consider. Although it’s probably fairly unlikely, there’s also the possibility that one or more could break out in the middle of the night. In such a case, they’d be unlikely to recognise us as the ones who had killed their captor; instead, they’re far more likely to just straight out attack us.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Of course, there’s a simple solution to most of these issues, though not an easy one: release the creatures within and deal with the larvae. I should probably do it anyway: I have no desire for more danaris to be running around the forest, kidnapping other creatures and propagating further. At the very least, I need to kill the larvae inhabiting these other bodies and then redirect the victims so that they don’t see us as easy prey and attack.
Another possibility occurs to me – I could just kill everything currently in this cave except for my Bound and the couple of larvae I wish to keep. It’s probably the easiest solution, and offers the bonus of Energy for myself and whichever of my Bound help me kill them.
After a moment of thought, I shake my head and dismiss that possibility. Well, relegate it to Plan B status. I have another idea. It’s more risky, and will take much more of me than Plan B, but it also has much more potential pay-off. Plus, it’s more humane and would give me less guilt to add to what I’m already carrying.
My inspiration comes from remembering how I saved Sirocco from the thornbush in the vine-strangler forest. Because of that, she wanted a Bond with me, and she’s since proven to be an invaluable member of the team. Who’s to say the same might not be true of these other creatures? Though I won’t force it on them if they’re not interested.
Longingly, I imagine curling up with Bastet and River on something soft that I manage to cobble together from items in my Inventory. Or even some of that soft webbing…. No, I can sleep later, I tell myself firmly. This is an opportunity I’d be a fool to miss.
However, that means individually letting creatures out, healing them, feeding them, offering them a drink, and then offering them the chance to leave. Only if they choose to stay can I then offer them a Bond. I might exhaust myself healing only to find that none of them choose to stay to take the Bond. Or only a few.
That’s the risk I have to take, I decide. I’d feel bad just condemning all the creatures to death, anyway – they were as much victims of the danaris as Fenrir was. And releasing them with a gaping hole in their sides and probably foreign bodies from the hatchlings as well is basically just giving them a more distant death sentence.
“Alright, this is what I want us to do.” I start to outline the plan which I’ve pulled together. It’s not particularly complicated: the main factor of it is that I figure not everyone needs to be awake the whole time. I need help just in case one of them turns violent when I’m not in a state to defend myself, or it turns out that one of the creatures is unexpectedly strong. But I don’t think I need everyone hovering at all times.
Heck, it might even work against me – if the creature is convinced that it’s about to be eaten, it’s unlikely to take my healing well and might even turn violent in self-defence. We therefore work out who should be awake and when. For the first attempt we decide that everyone will remain awake, but only Bastet and River will be near me.
Deciding to take a logical approach, I start near the entrance of the cave, picking the first webbed cell to the left. Trying to send soothing thoughts to the inhabitant who sounds agitated, I use my mana-coated finger to slice halfway around the webbed disk.
“It’s OK, I’m trying to help you,” I say soothingly, not expecting the creature within to understand my words, but hoping that the tone will communicate my meaning somehow. Pinching a little of the material between my index finger and thumb, I pull it back slowly.
I’m wary in case the creature shoots out some sort of attack, making sure that no part of me is directly in front of the now-open section of the cave. No clawed limb, or biting mouth, or venomous stinger emerges from the cell. I take that as a good sign.
Once more coating my finger with mana and tracing it along the web, I dissolve the threads holding the ‘door’ shut. Bit by bit I pull the material back while murmuring soothing words until the creature inside is revealed.
It’s one of the reptilian deer-like creatures I’ve seen before. It’s terrified, pressing itself against the back of the cave which is barely big enough for it to stand. The entrance is a bit too small for it – the danaris must have just shoved it straight in without much care. In fact, from what I see of the dried blood around the entrance to the cell, it probably has more injuries than just the expected one.
“It’s OK, come forward, I just want to help you,” I say encouragingly. If ever it would be a good time for Animal Empathy to kick in and help me communicate, it would be now. While wary about potentially enraging it, I need to know more details about it.
Stio
Tier 1 Beast
Special abilities:None
Health: 250u
Mana: 100u
Minimum Willpower recommended to Dominate without other impacting factors: 15
Fleet of foot and agile, this herbivore usually travels in groups of between five and twenty individuals. Prey to anything that can catch them, few succeed in getting to any stage higher than Tier 1.
Close message? Y/N
Drawing back a little from the entrance to the smaller cave, I encourage Bastet and River to do the same. They do, though seem uneasy about it. I understand their caution, and even check with them that they don’t have any specific reason to be worried. They don’t – they just would prefer to be closer to the potentially-violent beast. Not that I’m too worried about this one – herbivore and prey beast, both imply that there’s not too much for me to fear.
After confirming that this creature – a stio – is herbivorous, I pull out a few plants which I’d been storing in my Inventory for my own consumption. Placing them in the entrance to the cell, I also pull out one of my pots of water and a pylobus shell. Filling the shell, I place it next to the plants.
Patience is the next requirement, something I don’t usually have much of. Fortunately for me, the deer is clearly thirsty as it doesn’t take long for it to stick its head out of the hole and dip its pointed muzzle into the water.
Shifting closer carefully, I keep murmuring soothing words, resorting to the kind of nonsense people often use with animals as I move. The deer is obviously aware and wary of my approach, but apart from a few flinches here and there, clearly considers the water more important than keeping away from me.
When that bowl is empty, it skitters away, but when I refill it, it approaches again. This time, it’s willing to tolerate me staying by the entrance to the cave. Frankly, either Animal Empathy is helping me, creatures in this world are generally less wary, or this deer is really desperate for water, as I was expecting it to take much longer than this.
After it’s had more than half the bowl again, it diverts to attacking the plants lying in the entrance, clearly starving. I gaze at the creature. This one is complicated by it being almost trapped by the shape and size of the entrance to its cell: I will have to hurt it more to get it out which would probably completely undo the progress I’ve just made.
While I’m a bit doubtful about whether this creature will be a good fit for our group, I think I’m going to need a Bond to get the stio out at all. I could just leave it to die, of course, but condemning it to die of dehydration just because I don’t think it will be useful to me is more than I can justify to myself. So, offering a Tame Bond it is. I suppose I could always cut the Bond later if it proves to be useless to us.
It said that the minimum Willpower stat required to Dominate the stio was fifteen points; I wonder whether that has any impact on Tame…? Well, perhaps I’ll find out.
Catching the deer’s gaze, I invoke my Skill.
“Tame.”