Talax moved as stealthily as he could, jumping from shadow to shadow. He tried to go unnoticed by the prowling beasts, that seemed to be everywhere, eager to taste his blood.
While travelling through the large cave, they had heard an intense battle, lasting for several minutes. Initially, their hopes had surged believing that they were nearing their target, Ferdinand’s uncle. Their hopes were soon dashed, however, when they heard the distinctive and unsettling yapping of the gnolls.
After the sounds of battle had died down, they had an intense conversation on what their next step should be. After much debating, Talax convinced his companions to let him scout ahead, and find out whether their query was near, or they had to make a detour and avoid the potential danger of the gnolls.
Talax knew that he had the advantage over his friends on a mission like this, he had his stealth skill to protect him and avoid danger. Still, he was being cautious. He knew that one wrong step, one clumsy movement could spell his doom. He calculated his every move. Every step he had to take was calculated, gauging out the distance, the shadows that could protect him in their darkness and even the sounds that he made while he navigated the dense undergrowth.
Even with all those precautions, he was almost discovered multiple times.
He had come across a pack of strange dogs, that had skeletal bodies with emaciated frames and bone-white, vacant eyes that glowed eerily in the dim light of the cavern. They seemed to sense his presence, their sharp ears perking up as they began barking furiously, revealing yellowed fangs that glistened with saliva. The cacophony of their howls echoed through the cavern, sending shivers down his spine.
After a few heart-stopping minutes that made him reconsider his love for dogs and a sudden affection for the felines, that he quickly shook away, he managed to slip away undetected, leaving behind the snarling dogs.
He had also stumbled upon a green humanoid. It had large tumors sprouting all over its body, oozing a sickly greenish liquid that left a trail in its wake. The creature moved with the uncoordinated grace of a zombie, its limbs jerking spasmodically, and its gaping maw drooled green slime as it aimlessly shuffled through the cave, its eyes vacant and milky.
He had almost come face to face with the disturbing creature, but once again his stealth skill saved him. The creature seemed to have low perception, its milky eyes unable to detect him. So, he hugged the shadows and waited patiently as the creature lumbered away.
One upside of using his skill constantly was that after that encounter he felt a burst of mana and upon closer inspection he realized that he was awarded with another skill level!
Stealth skill, level 6
6% to noise reduction, 6% to hiding
All the careful use of the skill and his near-death encounters finally paid off, giving him a well-deserved level up. Something he desperately needed if he wanted to survive the deadly environment of the dungeon.
His silent movement stopped when his senses picked up something. He didn’t hear or see anything out of the ordinary, but his nose alerted him to something disturbing. It was a scent he had encountered before – the unmistakable smell of death and the metallic tang of blood, with which he had unfortunately become all too familiar. The odorous assault on his nostrils made him freeze in his tracks.
His instincts went into overdrive, like a cornered animal waiting for the predator to pounce. A part of him whispered to flee to safety, while another part, the impulsive and reckless side, demanded that he investigate and find the source of the smell.
The impulsive side barely won.
With reluctant feet, he moved forward, pushing aside an overgrown fern and scanning his surroundings for any sign of life. With each step, the smell intensified, and his heart started to beat faster, its rhythm uneven. He gritted his teeth, summoning the courage to go on and resisting the urge to flee in the opposite direction.
With a feather-light touch, he parted the bush he was hiding in. The sight of the dead gnolls made him freeze in his tracks.
Five lifeless creatures lay before him, sprawled in a pool of blood so thick and abundant that it looked as though their bodies were adrift on a crimson sea. Their bodies bore several wounds, some deep and deadly, while others were mere scratches. Nonetheless, all of them continued to leak rivers of blood, further saturating the already blood-soaked ground.
Talax’s head was in turmoil, full of questions. The predominant question, squashing every other thought, was who was able to cause so much destruction among the two meters tall, muscle-bound beings that their mere presence made Talax want to pee in his pants.
The only logical conclusion was that there must have been multiple assailants to manage to wipe out the small pack of gnolls so quickly. When the trio had faced the creatures, they had barely managed to survive the encounter, with Qalo coming dangerously close to death. The creatures were ferocious fighters, and their overwhelming strength left most humans praying to their patron God for a quick death.
Talax felt the hairs on his nape stand on end, becoming apprehensive of the danger he was in. The blood was still fresh... Whoever did it could still be around... Maybe he should...
He heard a rustle behind him and before he could even register the noise, he felt the cold kiss of steel on his neck.
“Are you lost, baby boy?” The voice, hauntingly feminine, slithered into his ear with a sinister intimacy that sent a shiver down his spine.
Talax froze. He was unable to move, afraid that the barest movement would cause the knife to slice into his skin. He gulped involuntarily, unable to suppress his anxiety, and felt the edge of the knife draw blood. The female voice hummed cheerfully, unaware of Talax’s state of mind.
What should he do? Actually, what could he do?
In a moment of panic, he considered attacking the woman. He quickly discarded the idea when his eyes fell at the lifeless bodies of the gnolls. If she could single-handedly take down five gnolls, killing him would be a piece of cake.
Talax had only two viable options: resort to conversation and talk his way out of this deadly predicament or face the threat head-on. He desperately hoped his silver-tongued wreath would prove enough and diffuse the tension.
"There's no need for violence," he began, his voice quivering initially but steadily gaining confidence with every word. He couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment as his words flowed smoothly.
"I am more than willing to share any information you seek. Please, though, if we could talk without this rather intimidating dagger at my throat," he implored, attempting to make light of the situation. The woman appeared mildly amused by his attempts and broke into a fit of giggles reminiscent of a carefree young girl. The dagger, however, remained unfalteringly close to his neck.
"Your words are as sweet as honey, dear," she cooed, her demeanor unswayed. "But sweet words alone won't save you. I may appreciate your pretty fac, but not enough to spare your life. You have exactly ten seconds to change my mind." Talax felt a paralyzing chill as the blade pressed harder into his skin, emphasizing the impending threat.
Frantically, he racked his brain for the perfect words that could dissuade the woman for carrying out her threat. But his situation took an even more dire turn as the woman began counting down. Each number fell from her lips like a weighty judgment, laced with a honeyed warmth that seemed to mock him.
7, 6... 3, 2...
And then it clicked!
"Don't tell me you're one of Lord De Luval's companions?" The woman's countdown came to an abrupt halt, leaving Talax wondering if she would finally decide to carry out her grim threat. Her warm breath bore down on his neck, making him acutely aware of his vulnerability and the fact that his life rested solely in her capricious hands.
After an agonizing pause, the woman burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, causing the knife to tremble in her grip. She seemed to find something inexplicably amusing in the situation.
Stolen story; please report.
"And how do you know Lord De Luval, sweet cake?" The woman whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
"Um... Uh, I've been traveling with his nephew. We've been searching for him for what feels like an eternity," Talax stammered in response, his words hanging in the tense air. The woman froze at his revelation, her silence stretching on for an agonizing moment. Then, with lightning speed, Talax was forcibly pushed, pulled, and tackled to the unforgiving ground, his senses reeling from the sudden and unexpected assault.
As he lay sprawled awkwardly on the ground, trying to regain his bearings and steady his harsh breaths, he found himself gazing up at a masked face. He could discern little more than a few stray strands of black hair that had escaped from beneath the raised hood concealing her identity.
Her attire was surprisingly plain, offering minimal protection and presenting a stark contrast to the image he had conjured of the woman who had singlehandedly dispatched five gnolls. She wore simple garments, dull grey pants and a shirt made of weathered cloth that had seemingly faded from age and extensive use.
The mask was the only equipment that drew his attention. It had the same color as her clothes, but the holes for the eye sockets had two tangled stones that made it difficult to make out her eyes. He briefly wondered how the woman could see, with the stones obstructing her vision, but his thoughts were interrupted when the woman clapped in delight and jumped up and down.
Before Talax could react, the woman jumped onto his chest with a crazed giggle. His breath was taken out of his lungs with a loud whoosh from the sudden burden weighing down on him. Her eyes, hidden behind the shifting stones in the mask, flickered with unpredictable mirth, making it impossible for Talax to gauge her intentions.
"Now, now, sweet cake, don't get any ideas! I just want to see what weapons you have on you." Her hands slithered all over his body, patting him down and grabbing at unfortunate places. Talax was becoming more uncomfortable by the second, especially since he could hear the heavy breathing of the woman as she searched him. Her laughter echoed with an eerie and unhinged charm, leaving him on edge.
"Mmm... I prefer my men with more meat on them, but you will do." She muttered to herself, leaving Talax bewildered, as her voice shifted from gleeful to somber within moments.
"Um... If you let me, I could help," he suggested, pointing with his finger at his obvious weapons sticking out of his belt. The woman stopped her searching for a moment and put her finger on his lips with a breathy, "Shhh," her touch alternating between feather-light and surprisingly strong, keeping him in suspense.
He resigned to his fate and let her do what she wanted. For long minutes, she traced every part of his body, leaving nothing behind. It had become increasingly difficult to remain indifferent to the woman's antics, and Talax gave a sigh of relief when she decided she had enough and grabbed his short sword and his daggers, flinging them away.
She examined each weapon for a moment and gave a reprimanding tsk. "Your equipment is lousy. They are better suited for a junkyard than in the hands of a warrior." She gave a seductive "mmm" and added, "Such strong hands."
Talax didn’t know how to react to the woman’s outrageous behavior. He was left flabbergasted and unable to form an intelligent thought. Her demeanor resembled that of an infatuated girl, making her appear harmless and innocent. However, the smell of blood and the decaying bodies of the gnolls told a different story. He was apprehensive about saying anything that might offend or anger the woman. He had no desire to witness her other side, the one the unseeing eyes of the gnolls had witnessed.
She finally jumped up, leaving him sprawled out and looking around awkwardly. She quickly went to his discarded weapons, picked them up, and stashed them away in a bag slung on her back. Then, she turned to face him.
"What are you doing, puppy? Get up. Let’s go find our precious lord." Her voice turned mocking when she referred to Ferdinand, but she didn’t utter another word. She started walking away, in the direction where he had left his two companions.
She sashayed with exaggerated hip movements that left Talax hypnotized.
"Stop ogling, puppy! You can do that later, with a cup of mead and a few filthy words. Now, we have work to do," she reprimanded with her sing-song voice.
Talax shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and stood up awkwardly, kicking up dust in his haste.
He followed behind her, trailing her steps as she hummed some weird song that spoke of blood and blades. That did not help his composure. He didn’t know whether he should be grateful to have a powerful warrior protecting him or be afraid of the woman who seemed to be a bit... off balance.
Suddenly, he realized that the woman had never actually admitted to being in the company of Lord De Luval.
He cleared his throat to gain her attention, and when the woman looked back, he asked, “So, is Lord De Luval nearby? Ferdinand has been searching for him for ages.” The woman scoffed.
“He is. I’ve been sent to find gnolls and kill them. The stupid creatures decided to split up into small groups, making them easy prey. Thankfully, strategy isn’t one of their strong points.” She looked him over appraisingly without breaking her stride.
“Tell me, sweet cake, how did you two manage to survive the dungeon? No offense, but you don’t look very capable. And I know the lord isn’t capable of feeding himself, much less surviving the forest outside and this depressing dungeon.”
Talax was barely listening to her words because he realized that the woman was following his previous path with unerring accuracy. He could see his earlier trail with his tracking skill, illuminating the path he had made. The woman was actually stepping on his own footprints as if she knew exactly where they were.
And then it dawned on him. "You have the tracking skill, don’t you?” he inquired, ignoring her own question.
The woman laughed. “Oh, puppy! Of course, I do. And your skill level is still pitiful. You should consider improving your tracking. There are some awesome abilities later on. Like Light Steps, which let you travel without leaving tracks. Or... Past Path, where you can pick a trail and experience what the original person smelled, heard, or felt...” Talax lost a step when he heard her words, and he immediately looked up with questioning eyes.
“Ha, ha, ha. Don’t worry, sweety, I have only unlocked the olfactory aspect of the ability.” Talax was somewhat relieved but still felt unsettled. An ability like that sounded incredibly useful for the user, but if you were the recipient, it was borderline violating.
Still, he couldn’t help himself. “What level is your tracking skill?” He had to know how far behind he was if he wanted to unlock such useful abilities.
The woman tsked in reprimand. “You don’t ask questions like that to a lady without giving her a sweet kiss or putting an enchanted ring on her finger. Just so you know, I would really appreciate a ring boosting my shadow magic or maybe a health ring. Those are always useful.”
She pulled a branch that had snagged in her cloak, and with a playful tone, she added. “Now, you didn’t answer my question. How did you survive?” Talax had considered what to tell her. Her erratic behavior didn’t inspire his confidence or his trust. She may be one of Lord De Luval’s adventurers, but he hadn’t forgotten what the gnolls had told him when he had interrogated them.
The man hadn’t searched for Franny, his nephew. He had chosen instead to enter the dungeon and left the young man to his fate. Ferdinand couldn’t even fathom that his uncle would do something like that and had discarded the gnoll’s words as lies or the tales of a delusional creature.
Talax wasn’t so sure though. So, he chose to keep as many details as he could to himself. As they retraced his steps towards the camp where his two friends waited, he told her a brief version of their adventures. About how they met Franny at the bandit camp and saved him. About the gnolls and how they had fought against the small group. And finally, how they entered the dungeon. With the unwitting help of the forest guardian, which had distracted the gnolls who were guarding the entrance, letting them slip away unnoticed.
While the woman listened to his retelling, she hummed or giggled, especially at the parts where Ferdinand was hurt. He chose not to reveal what he had found out from the gnolls or the encounter with the fish woman or the strange occurrence with the depilated statue that had awakened his void magic.
When he stopped talking, the woman asked him only one question. “That Qalo guy, is he really an orc?” Talax’s brows furrowed at her question. Of all the things he had told her, was that the detail that stuck with her?
With an uncertain voice, he replied, unsure of her reaction. “Yes, I mean he is a half-orc. He looks human, with only his tusks and greenish tint on his skin revealing his true parentage.” The woman hummed in answer.
“Orcs are not to be trusted. They are deceitful by nature, and they don’t lose a chance for bloodshed. But I guess if you find a tame creature, it could be used as an asset. They are ferocious fighters after all with incredible strength.” Talax felt the tips of his ears burn. Her casual tone of contempt and the complete disregard of his friend made Talax see red.
She spoke of Qalo as if he was an animal. Mentioning his strengths and weaknesses like he was about to be sold off to the highest bidder, no more human than sheep destined for slaughter. With a superhuman effort, he tried to rein in his anger that had sparked inside him and was growing into a terrifying inferno.
He closed his eyes and concentrated solely on his losing fight against his anger. The woman kept bubbling her nonsense, one degrading comment after the other, painting Qalo as a savage creature that relished in death and bloodshed, whose only purpose was to be controlled by the more intelligent races or else eradicated.
He could actually feel his anger swell with her every word, the emotion like scorching tongues licking at his core. As if in response, his void magic awakened, sending a faint ripple across his being like it was searching for the source of his aggravation. His body felt the ripple of power, like the echo of a drum, leaving behind residual specks of magic.
He quickly took a steadying breath, and his void magic released another beat of power. And with it came the overwhelming sense of hunger and hollowness he so dreaded. His thoughts quickly dissolved into nothingness, with the intent of devouring everything around him, the predominant concern.
He was becoming again devoid of all emotions. The all-encompassing urge of the void to absorb and devour was quickly taking charge, putting him in the back seat. But he fought with all he had, trying to curtail the void magic’s influence. His unstable emotional state had died down after the magic’s appearance, and he was able to concentrate on controlling the wild magic.
After long moments, his void magic seemed to calm down, and he was left breathing harshly and with a light layer of perspiration coating his forehead. With a start, he realized that he had stopped walking, and the woman was looking at him with a tense body.
“Puppy... I don’t suppose you are keeping secrets from me. Are you now?” She inquired with a breathy whisper, deadly intent hidden in her honeyed voice.
“Ummm.”