In the militia building of Crawlinghome...Viri continues to argue her case.
"You will provide a list of charges and proof of such, should you provide adequate-" she begins to say at the not particularly interested dwarves, but is interrupted by Syb giving her a very stern push that probably would have been more appropriate for a rowdy dwarf - given that Viri weighs about six to seven times less than the average rowdy dwarf, it has the effect of sending her rolling down the hallway toward the jail.
This, she would say, constitutes a sufficient breakdown of civilized discourse to necessitate some creative sorcery. Three things spring to mind - unfortunately all three are things she's never tried or exhibited any talent at, but desperate times call for desperate measures. As Syb starts to approach, Viri attempts to improvise some sort of field of repulsion on the spot, an endeavor that unfortunately seems doomed to failure, at least in the space of the few seconds it takes for Syb to step over and grab Viri by the armpit with one hand, lifting her up with what looks to be astounding ease.
"Huh," she says, then starts to drag the fox toward the jail. Okay, so repulsion did not work. Maybe she can leverage healing into some kind of... muscle cramp aura? Sounds a bit silly, and a bit far from the set paths of renewal that magical healing is essentially composed of, but worth a shot. As she gets dragged into the jail, where a jailor and a prisoner holding a cat observe their arrival with fascination, she, in a last ditch effort, attempts to force
something along the lines of her intention upon the world, brute-forcing her talents in a way they weren't meant to be forced, and perhaps due to the great urgency of the situation, something does happen!
Syb, already calling out to the jailor to open a cell for their new guest, suddenly doubles over, her entire body bulging and spasming conspicuously as Viri works some form of sorcery she hasn't worked before, her hand clenching around the fox's shoulder as she falls to the ground and starts to curl up, still increasing in size at a disturbing rate. Quite fascinating, really, though it would be more so if Viri weren't faced with the new, perhaps more intriguing problem of how to free herself of the incapacitated dwarf's palpably grasping, growing flesh.
The jailor, presumably due to the rather unusual sight this presents, remains seated, eyes wide in surprise. The prisoner, meanwhile, watches with some form of morbid curiosity, and says something Viri can't quite hear.
In the doctor's office...Martingold, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst, starts to admit his nature freely.
"Fine, you caught me," says he, then stalls for a bit. The doctor doesn't appear to mind. Nor does he seem to pay attention to Martingold's own darting eyes as they rest upon his surgery kit, where all the really sharp knives seem to be found.
"If you want to know who I am and what I am doing, I will tell you," he then says as he starts to form a small, delicate tendril underneath himself, growing it out over the next series of long pauses.
"Sorry for the wait, I am trying to figure out how to tell this story," he says, then makes thoughtful noises for a bit as his grasping tentacle reaches maturity. The doctor starts to frown.
"Aha! Got it," he says at last, and begins the tale in earnest.
"So I am a fox, but not just any fox, I am an apostle of the Fox God. The Fox God is the creator of all foxes and for a long time our existence was confined only to the Holy lands. Then one day, in a time before any of us were born, some foxes grew tired of the teachings of the Fox God and left. Now without the holy guidance of the Fox God they grew wicked and selfish, pursuing their own interests at the cost of others. As time passed they multiplied and spread, henceforth spreading their villainy and permanently tarnishing the reputation of the foxes," he tells the doctor.
"Now let me bring the story to the present moment," he says, pretending to consider the further tale as he winds his tendril securely around one of the fine scalpels in the doctor's kit, preparing it for a swing at the vitals.
"Currently, our holy lands have been ravaged by some horrible plague and I've been sent out to find a cure for it. I was hoping to discreetly sneak into the town and hopefully find some information on where to find one but as you know, that didn't work out so well.""So that's my story. So if you can release me, please do," he says after he concludes the tale, the doctor regarding him with surprising calm. A moment or two passes in which he seems to think, then he speaks.
"Yes, foxes do have a bit of a tarnished reputation. That's quite the understatement in these parts, actually. So, here is my counter offer: I will not release you right this moment, because I have a few questions to ask of you. Try not to do anything dramatic, they've got your friend in a cell. I'm just an old man, I'm sure you won't have any trouble with me. But everyone in this town knows how to fight, you know, and we're a pretty close bunch. Just behave yourself and you'll be out of those bonds before you know it," he says, sighing as he steps back a bit, walking around the table, occasionally looking at Martingold as he thinks.
"As it stands we've got one confirmed fox with at least one other potential fox in the cells, who were trying to enter our humble town under false pretenses. Not a great start. So, tell me more about yourself and your friend. And I need some more details about that plague. Also why didn't you just come to the gate? We're a fairly friendly bunch here, we just don't get many visitors, I'm sure you wouldn't have had any problem just coming in," he says, giving Martingold an affable smile. "Just indulge my curiosity and you will be free to go, I am sworn to give aid wherever I can after all."
Outside Crawlinghome...Faer, turning into a fox once again, takes a closer look at the map, trying to get a better sense for his surroundings.
The logging camp is very clearly marked, and so is its surrounding area, complete with a height map and other such things - seems to be some kind of survey map. It shows fairly clearly that Crawlinghome happens to be in an area enclosed by woods on almost every side, being not so much on the edge of the Lands Untamed as sort of lodged into the primordial forest. Probably looked a lot different than this a mere century or two ago, judging by the apparent size of the village. It's surrounded by farmland, and judging from the elevations at work Faer would guess these dwarves have been conducting quite a bit of earthworks around here, smoothing out the land to make an artificial hill to set the village upon - quite an undertaking, one would suppose, but probably not at all beyond their engineering ability. The ditches of the farmlands to help drainage are interestingly patterned and often interconnected, and could potentially provide cover for a covert approach.
As for other things, Faer notes that the map, while meant for the wilderness, does seem to be also good enough to orient oneself within the village, although buildings within, while outlined, are unmarked. More interestingly, the map shows the existence of two other logging camps - one deeper in the woods slightly northward, one considerably further southward, apparently corresponding to prime logging locations.
In Crawlinghome's jail...Rev looks Tom in the eye and meows, which Tom appropriately construes as interest.
"That's a good cat," he says. "I knew you'd agree. It gets really lonely in here, you know. Even with June there to keep me company," he nods toward the jailor.
"You've been here for a
day, Tom," the jailor replies, rolling her eyes.
"And that's a day too long! I mean, what am I even here for?" he asks.
"You know what you did," she says right back.
"Being drunk and lonely ain't a crime! Even if you do hit on the captain's daughter in the process," he says.
"Did a bit more than that, didn't you?" June says with an air of superiority.
"Well, she was drunk and lonely too! Can you blame her? I mean, really, two young people fool around and it's me who gets thrown in jail for it. Typical," he shakes his head, then looks at Rev again. "Does that sound fair to you, kitty? Girl's all over you, you reciprocate, and somehow you're the bad guy. And the Captain, too, where does he get off, a former murderer passing judgement on-"
"Shut up now," says June. "Someone's coming."
And, true enough, someone is coming - the shorter dwarf from before that Rev listened in on along with a fresh new prisoner, one that Rev has no trouble recognizing as good old Viri. Tom seems noticeably intrigued by this development.
"Open up a cell, June," she says, and the jailor goes over her key necklace for a moment, trying to find the right one. And then suddenly things get weird - the short dwarf suddenly doubles over, still hanging on to her prisoner, and drops to the ground, pulling Viri down as well - Rev notes that an odd transformation seems to be coming over the militiadwarf, her flesh suddenly growing and grasping outward, her armor tearing and tendrils of flesh slowly creeping out of her form, seemingly trying to enclose around poor Viri in retribution for her sorcerous attempts.
"Crap. And here I was hoping this day would turn out decent," Tom mutters as he observes the unlucky dwarf's body start to lose its original shape. June, meanwhile, seems somewhat paralyzed in fear and confusion. This may provide some room for shenanigans, one would assume. Certainly a fox couldn't hope for a better distraction.
Near the vaunted sporetime puffball...Whiskers, not about to be ignored, takes a direct approach.
"Excuse me sir, but it is terribly rude to not look at someone when they are talking to you," he says as he walks beside the patrolling watchman, who stops and looks all around, then rests his gaze on Whiskers at last, blinking a few times.
"What, you haven't seen a talking cat before? Now, to the point. I haven't been in this town before, and I'd quite like to know everything that you know about this puffball. I'm rather interested in it, and I need to know what will happen if a... friend of mine who likes to pop things popped it. I'd also like to know the location of magical places of interest in this town. Now, may you please stop blubbering in shock and speak?"The dwarf blinks a few more times, considering what a talking cat standing before him might possibly imply.
"What the bugger-all are you supposed to be?" he asks in a rough tone of voice, failing to answer any kind of question Whiskers had in mind. "A talking cat?"
Whiskers is vaguely aware of another dwarf stopping nearby to look at the watchman, probably amused by the sight of him speaking to a feline.
In case there's been some confusion, no, foxes can't do all of sorcery at once, and are just good at one particular thing. They can shapeshift and they can do one other thing at first, or merely shapeshift better than most.
For instance, in Viri's case she can perform magical healing and shapeshift. She can't control flesh (and if she could control flesh, healing would be just as difficult for her as flesh control is for her as a healer), or do other sorts of magic like a formally and holistically educated wizard might be able to. She can, however, try and leverage her talent in unusual ways to get new kinds of magic in the process, as she just did (though that, in case you couldn't tell, was an overshoot, and not really very educational). Naturally, leveraging healing into, say, growth is easier than getting something like repulsion out of it, which would be incredibly difficult.
Author
Topic: Outfoxed - Chapter 1: A Sense of Direction (Read 14719 times)