by Pirateaba
The pepper spray potion splashes Ilvriss in the eyes and he doubles backwards, howling in agony. I toss the bottle to the ground and pray like hell I don’t have any of it anywhere near my face. I step around the fallen Lord of the Wall and grab everything I can, stuffing it into my pack.
No time to sort stuff. I can already hear shouting and people drawing close. I grab the rest of Octavia’s special items – two bags and one potion left now—and look around.
Everyone in the tent is down, but Periss is already stirring and Ilvriss is screaming and rolling around. He might be able to hurt me if he ever stops rubbing the peppers deeper into his eyeballs.
Do I try to take them hostage? No. Then the tent? I see figures? Where—?
I turn, and realize I’m an idiot again. I grab my pack, spare one second to kick Ilvriss in the stomach, and charge at a wall. Any wall. It’s a tent.
Periss’s sword makes a handy canvas-opener. I slash a triangle of fabric out to open a path just as the first soldier races into the room. I hurl the sword at him and he ducks—and it hits his leg. Swords are really heavy, okay? Then I’m out of the tent and running.
The camp is in chaos. When I used the stink potion to get to the High Passes, I had it uncorked in the bottle. Ilvriss shattered it, so everyone’s getting the entire dose straight up. Some of the Drakes can function, like me, but they’re still green* and it looks like every Gnoll is rolling on the ground clutching their nose.
*Green as in green in the face. Some have green scales, others have blue, yellow, black…look, I’m busy right now, okay?
I charge towards the edge of the camp, just as the soldiers notice me. Some of them reach for their bows and I curse.
Zig-zag motion, crouched low and moving fast. But no—there are too many. Potion, then? Teriarch’s or…?
I grab for a bag at my side. First bag I asked her to make. I undo the string and toss it to the ground as what’s inside ignites.
Smoke billows out of the bag, thick and white. The [Soldiers] cry out and some retreat back from me, but it’s not poison. I dive to the ground next to the bag as arrows begin flying overhead. The smoke quickly engulfs me and everything around me.
Smoke. I wanted a grenade, but a fuse takes time to light. But Octavia was able to make it into a bag, and she’s got a stone that lights on fire when it meets the air.
It’s some kind of pyrophoric substance, and it lights up the mixture I told her to make. Smoke. You can make a military-style smoke grenade with some saltpeter, sulfur, charcoal, and wood dust. All of that’s fairly common—people use saltpeter as food preservatives, and only sulfur is hard to get. But an [Alchemist] has some, and so she sifted the ingredients together and added a material that catches fire in the open air.
Instant smoke bomb. I made ones like it all the time when I was a kid, until the police caught me.
But unlike the small versions I made, this one’s got enough smoke to cover me and a huge section of the camp. Smoke billows upwards and I cough.
Stay low, get out of the radius. I hear shouting and thundering footsteps, but I just go for it. I charge forwards, praying like hell I don’t run into anyone.
I do. Five times. But they’re just as confused as I am, and Muay Thai teaches all kinds of throws, sweeps, and takedowns. I run on out of the smoke and out of the camp as soldiers rush around, and then charge after me.
I’m nearly at the edge of the camp and running towards a ridge when I hear shouting. Not from behind, but ahead. I hesitate, and that’s when the second army crests the hill and starts charging right at me.
—-
Zel Shivertail paused as his soldiers crouched at the base of the ridge that led directly to the enemy camp. He was confident—fairly confident his soldiers had managed to take down all of the [Scouts] that Ilvriss had posted, but they had only minutes before their disappearance was noted.
Now was the moment. He looked at his commanders, and saw only trust in their eyes. He hoped they wouldn’t be betrayed. He was leading the charge himself, which was risky, but he had to. A [General] led from the front and he was the strongest warrior.
He raised an arm, and hesitated as a [Scout] charged towards him, waving a furry paw as he abandoned the cover of the treeline. Zel raced towards him and spke when they were close.
“Report!”
He listened for a few seconds to the Gnoll, and then dashed back to his commanders. They stared at him, tense, expecting the worse.
“This is it! The Ancestors are smiling on us today. Our [Scouts] report that something’s just happened in the camp! Headquarters is in disarray, and they’re off guards! Follow me!”
He leapt to his feet, and his soldiers rose as well in a roar. Zel charged up the ridge in seconds, and when he got to the top he looked down on chaos.
The enemy camp was full of running soldiers, and a thick white smoke that covered the main tent. Zel saw them running towards him, but they hadn’t even spotted the army running up the ridge yet. No, they were chasing something else. Zel grinned.
“A monster attack, or reinforcements from another side? Either way, this is our chance.”
He looked back as the first [Soldier] made it up towards him. Zel raised a claw into the air and shouted.
“Charge!”
He shot down the slope, and heard his army roaring behind him as they surged down the incline. Zel ran towards the smoke, unsure of what he’d find. Something was in the air, and it stank so horribly he wanted to gag. But he ran on, prepared for everything.
Everything, except for a tall Human female sprinting out of the smoke, running as if Wyverns were on her tail. Zel’s charge faltered as he saw her sprinting away, shouting.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu—”
The Human girl wasn’t alone. Soldiers billowed out of the smoke, practically half of the camp They paused as they saw the charging army, but the girl just turned and sprinted away from both groups.
“Who is that?”
Zel had no answer. A wild arrow shot past his head and he grinned. He ran towards the soldiers who were struggling to form a line, and shouted.
“[Glorious Charge]!”
The effect on the army behind him was immediate. They roared as they felt it take effect, and Zel grinned to see the expressions on the enemy soldiers ahead. Everyone knew Zel Shivertail was the greatest defensive general on the continent. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a few good offensive skills.
Few people knew he had that skill or how devastating it could be if used right. As the momentum built up behind him and he felt the Skill make his body lighter and his soldiers rush towards the enemy like a moving wall of flesh and steel, Zel grinned.
The Human was already gone, but the enemy formation was in shreds, and he could smell something horrible in the air and see smoke billowing out from the center of the camp. He might have to thank that girl when this was all over. Thanks to her, it looked like this battle might be winnable after all.
The first soldier saw Zel approaching and raised a spear, eyes widening with fear as he saw the famous [General] charging at him. Zel raised a weaponless claw and slashed, and both armor and flesh tore. Then he was turning, lashing out, cutting a huge Gnoll down. He blocked a spear with one hand, catching the tempered point as the Drake holding the weapon struggled to move it.
One of Zel’s soldiers charged into him, stabbing, and then the first rank of Zel’s soldiers crashed into the enemy like the tide. Zel grinned, and slashed left-right at a huge Drake who fended off the blows with his shield. And then the battle had truly begun.
2.25
I’ve always thought I was pretty detached and aloof. Growing up, I learned to ignore people and go my own way. Take running, for example. Lots of people run and everyone agrees that’s healthy.
But take off your shoes and suddenly everyone is a medical doctor who can’t wait to share their opinion on how stupid running barefoot is for your knees, your feet, your arch…
Somehow, what
I do is important to other people, as if I’m making them run barefoot. Or, alternatively, if someone sees me running around in sports gear in the winter, they decide that I’m a poor, homeless girl who’s about to freeze to death and try to bother me again.
What I’m saying is that I learned to ignore other people and not react to the world around me, at least externally. I don’t show my feelings, and I keep calm most of the time as a result.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
Now is not one of those times. I’m currently crawling my way through a snow bank, and believe me, I’m doing it fast. Every two seconds I look around for moving shapes in the darkness, and I try not to piss myself as I do.
I’m in hell. Literal hell. You want to see blood and death all around? That’s pretty much a battlefield, and this one has gone to hell, mainly thanks to me.
Let’s set the scene. I walked in on a skirmish between two armies, and got captured. Somehow, I managed to escape by causing a lot of chaos, pepper spraying the general of the army and dropping a smoke bomb in the center of the camp. I was just running away when the other army attacked, and sent my lovely escape right into the middle of the crap heap.
Thousands of soldiers came charging down the ridge as I ran out of the camp. I saw this Drake guy in armor charge right past me, with no weapons but his bare hands. But the army behind him hit the soldiers chasing me like a brick wall, and before I knew it I was in the middle of a huge battle, three times as large as the one I’d seen from the hill.
I tried to get away, but I guess assaulting a [General] isn’t so easily forgivable because archers and mages were still trying to tag me even as both sides began fighting. I ended up sprinting behind a grove of trees and hiding in cover while both sides tried to push the other back.
That’s all okay, right? All I’d have to do is wait until attention was away from me and sprint out of there. I can run fast. That’s practically all I do.
But right when it looked like the soldiers were falling back, someone—a mage—decided that my smoke bomb was a good idea. I felt wind, and suddenly the entire world was covered in thick mist.
Mist? I take that back. It was more like fog. It made everything blurry after about five feet, and as a result I had no idea where the hell I was. I made a break for it twice, and found that each side was just as lost as I was. The soldiers began spreading out and fighting in groups everywhere, so that I had no idea where to run to.
It’s hard being lost in the middle of a battlefield, but the hardest part is being the one Human caught between two armies comprised solely of Drakes and Gnolls. You kind of stand out, and when one side is out for blood and the other one doesn’t trust you, you tend to get shot at.
A lot.
My leg is still burning. I lie down in the snow and feel at it. I pulled the shaft out and poured a healing potion over it, but I guess it wasn’t enough or something was wrong with the arrow. Damn. Is there a fragment caught in my skin?
I can’t tell. It’s dark, my winter clothes are covering the wound, and I don’t dare start a fire or even make a torch. I can hear shouting and screams all around me. The armies are still fighting, and occasionally I hear someone loose a really powerful spell, or shout orders in the distance. I’m just praying they don’t find me.
The snow is melting into my gear, and I know that it’s going to weigh me down if I stay there any longer. I don’t have the latest high-tech snow gear; my clothes aren’t waterproof and I really don’t want to try outrunning soldiers with another twenty pounds of weight on me. I have to get up.
Slowly, I push myself up into a crouch and look around. Now, where am I? I could be a few miles from where I was taken prisoner, or I could be two feet away from the camp. The mist dissipated after a few hours—just in time for the sun to set.
Damn winter days. Damn soldiers. Damn that Wall Lord and his stupid attack dog. Damn opportunistic enemy army.
And damn me for not waiting for Octavia to make copies of all of the bags and potions I ordered! What the hell was I thinking?
I’m down to one bag, one potion, and Teriarch’s magical potion of [Haste] now. And the problem is that the bag and potion work in tandem – realistically, I’ve only got one last diversionary tactic left. And this one—
I feel at the heavy bag I’ve secured to my waist. I really hope it’s not wet; that would render it completely useless, but Octavia reassured me the material that goes into the alchemical bags is both puncture and waterproof. It has to be, in order to contain most of the things [Alchemists] stuff in there*.
*They’ve got everything from those tripvine bags to deadly magical explosives I really wish I’d paid for right now. Here’s the thing: Octavia knew of alchemical versions of everything I wanted, but they were all more expensive than the versions I had her make. I didn’t exactly break the creativity bank with my requests, but I did offer far cheaper variations of existing equipment. A smoke bomb a la my world cost me only a handful of silver (aside from the experimentation and research fee), where it would normally cost a few gold for all the magical ingredients or spells that go into it.
Toss the bag first and then the potion. Right, right. Problem is, it’ll probably kill any normal person and I…don’t want that.
What am I saying? This is a war. But I’m no soldier, and I’m not a killer. Erin told me that.
Damnit.
The potion, then? I was tempted to pop the cork open and take a few swallows several times, but Teriarch’s potion is truly my last resort. Unless I am literally about to die, I won’t use it because if I end up in a situation where I’m without it—
Something else. One deadly diversion, emergency potion. A few healing potions left. And my leg—
Agh. I wince as I stand up and move into a snow-covered bush. It hurts. Damn it, there is something wrong. I need to see.
But the light…I glance around.
I’m in a small copse of trees, or is it a huge forest? There’s open ground to my left, and most of the noise is coming from that direction.
Can I risk it? Do I have any choice? I crouch in the bush, ignoring the prickling branches. They are not an issue at the moment. I’ll risk it.
And at least I don’t have to fumble around with a flint and bits of wood in the dark. I take a deep breath and concentrate.
“Okay, okay. You can do this.”
I can’t make a sphere of [Light] like the spell normally gives off. That’s a huge giveaway in the darkness; I saw a few [Soldiers] making those and they got sniped by a group of archers right off. It’s too obvious, but I do need light.
So what if I alter the spell a bit? It’s [Light]; when we were practicing, Ceria told me the spell is very easy to manipulate. All I need is an image, and I have one in my head.
“Come on, you’ve seen this a million times.”
I whisper to myself as I point a finger at my leg. Focus, think pinpoint, directed. Concentrated. A narrow beam, just like—
“[Flashlight].”
Something twists in my head as the word comes out. It feels like incredible pressure in my brain, and then sudden relief as the [Light] spell alters and a new one takes its place.
And there is light. Not from an orb, though.
Slowly, I raise my finger and stare at it. The tip of my finger is glowing white-yellow, and it’s emitting a cone of light that looks like any flashlight beam. It’s a narrow band; more like a penlight than anything else. It’s perfect, and just what I need.
“Holy shit.”
How did I do that? Or rather, why didn’t I think of that before? It’s so obvious—but of course it’s probably another spell mages learn. Or not. If you’ve got the ability to light up your surroundings, why bother with directed light?
Regardless, it’s perfect for being covert. I doubt the light is too visible from my position in the bush, so I quickly shine it down at my leg.
Its awkward, rolling back the cloth around my injury with one hand as my light source, but I pull the wet
fabric back and see the problem at last.
“Ow.”
Looks like I missed a spot when I pulled that damn arrow out. I see a sliver—well, more like a large fragment buried in my flesh. The potion grew the skin right around it, and as I touch the wood gently I wince.
Damnit. It’s stuck in there now. But I need it out, and so I pinch at it and pull.
Sparks. Flashes of pain. My flesh tears and I nearly scream as the wood splinters. I grab at my belt and come up a small knife.
Slowly, ever so slowly I lever out pieces of the wood and push back my skin to dig the rest out. The pain—
It’s not the worst I’ve felt, but there are tears in my eyes when I’m done. I grab a bottle out of my pack and pour the last of the healing potion over the wound. It closes instantly, and the pain is gone.
I have to sit after that. Just for a second. I shuffled out of the bush and squat in the snow for a second. Only then to I realize my fingers is still shining like E.T. I scowl, and cancel the magic.
I cover my face with both hands. God. This is beyond intense. I can still hear the fighting all around me, in the distance. What now? Do I run for it? I should, shouldn’t I?
Let’s consider the options. Either I run now, or I wait and hide until morning. But what then? Running in the light of day is going to get me spotted instantly, and if I keep trying to hide, the odds of me being detected go up as well. After a battle like this, whichever side wins is going to be scouring the woods for survivors, and if Wall Lord’s army finds me, I’m not going to be one of them.
Escaping the radius of the battlefield now is my only option, but the only issue is—to where?
Anywhere. Anywhere is fine. If I just pick a direction and run, eventually I’ll get away from them. That’s what I have to hope.
I squat in the snow, and suddenly realize something awful.
I need to go to the bathroom. As in, now. It’s gross, but it’s nature. I was with the Frost Faeries in the morning, and then I was pretty much being taken prisoner, tricking idiot [Lords], and running for my life and hiding for the rest of it.
