Apparently it's been two and a half weeks? Honestly doesn't feel like that much time has passed, so sorry about the wait! Life just gets busy sometimes.


Chapter 15: Prison Break

Another week passes before I finally see a glimmer of hope.

I'm scrubbing the prison floor when it happens. Chungus is gone, enjoying his day off by spending some time eating babies, or performing ritualistic sacrifice, or whatever the fuck monsters like him do. The other prisoners have been moved into the cellar, and I'm stuck in the building with Fish and Clyde, the two rejects Ezra was with when I was captured. They're watching me while I scrub up the blood from that poor woman Chungus killed. Of course, since it's been sitting for two weeks I'm not having a lot of luck. Most of its stained into the wood.

I don't have the luxury of making excuses though, so I just buckle down and put as much elbow grease into the mess as I can. If they see the slightest hint of me slacking off they start screaming and throwing punches. It's more a matter of keeping my sanity though; letting somebody as fucking pathetic as these two hit me is just… ugh.

I could take them. They have no skill in fighting beyond throwing their weight around, and I've been trained by Ylisse's best. I'm also pretty goddamn heavy myself (though three weeks of being nearly starved has taken the edge off of that), and spend literally all of my free time lately working out. It would be close though.

I'm running out of time. My body is losing far too much weight; by my best guess I've lost nearly forty pounds in the last few weeks. I can feel my body reaching its limits as I burn through fat pushing myself and don't get nearly enough nutrition to make up for the loss.

Today is my best chance to get an advantage. Fish and Clyde may be assigned just to watch me, but they're fuckwits. They don't have Chungus' eye for shenanigans, and they're not even remotely as intimidating.

The real advantage comes from their attitude though. Chungus doesn't seem particularly smart, he just knows how to scare the piss out of people, and knows that a zero tolerance policy is his best option for keeping people in line. That makes him smarter than the average thug, sure, but that says little.

If I have something to give me a proper leg up on him then I can handle the oversized fuck. And I think I've come up with a way.

I've just got to dig at these floorboards until I can get a nail. And it just so happens that all the blood that's soaked into and sat in the wood for two weeks has created my best chance at doing so. It may be cold as hell outside, but the floorboards are sitting on top of a mess of steaming human waste. Perfect conditions for rot to set in, which is a big part of why they clean that space out on a regular basis. But between the blood and the mess down below, the boards here are weakened. It's a minor thing, the cold does a lot to hold the rot back, but I can use it.

Yeah, the elbow grease isn't really for the sake of cleaning. It's actually so I can rub away at one spot on the floor, where the rot is setting in around the nails. I've been scrubbing the same area for nearly two hours, and the shit stains watching me still haven't clued in. I've already removed nearly two millimetres around the nail. Enough that I can almost get my fingers on it.

… Another week and I could make this work…

Yeah, bravado isn't really getting me anywhere here. I don't have much chance of making this work. Even if I wore the board down to splinters, the beam the board is nailed to would still be stuck. The nails here are made with much older forging techniques than I'm used to seeing even back in Ylisstol. They're bigger, making them more useful as a weapon, but also rougher, making them way harder to pull out. I need leverage to get at this thing.

All I have is a (surprisingly durable) scrub brush, a bucket of greasy water, and my hands. I can't really do much with that stuff without tipping off my handlers though. So I keep scrubbing away mechanically, all the while trying to come up with a game plan.

Another hour passes as I reject plan after plan in my mind. I'm starting to contemplate something more… desperate, like rushing my guards and fighting my way out while I'm still physically capable of it. If I wait until the next cleaning day I'll be too malnourished to survive.

Another hour later and I'm truly considering it. Wearing away the nail is proving an increasingly unlikely task, as the deeper I scrape at the wood the less rot there is, and the harder it becomes to make progress. I'm three millimetres in, enough that I can get my fingernails under the head of the nail. Trying to remove it now would just tear my fingernails out though.

If I toss this water in Fish's face it might distract him long enough for me to bash Clyde's brains in…

My thoughts are disrupted as a loud screech sounds in the air. One of Ezra's Griffons must be getting hungry. The poor things are probably almost as underfed as the prisoners here.

Another screech has me frowning. "They sound upset about something…" I mumble, still scrubbing at the wood.

"Shut up and clean better!" Fish grunts, kicking at my heels. I lower my head and make a show of scrubbing harder to shut the man up.

About five seconds later frantic yelling from outside starts to accompany the screaming of the Griffons. Fish and Clyde start muttering to each other nervously, but I tune them out, trying to listen to the yelling instead. If something's going on outside, I might not have to do anything crazy just yet…

A sudden shadow passes overhead. I blink in surprise, and look up.

"Oi, what did I just say?" Fish stomps over angrily.

"Your Griffons are out." I reply, not even looking in his direction. All I can focus on is the sight of Griffons flying like crazy overhead. There's around half a dozen of them, all flying away as fast as they can.

Fish pauses, probably looking up through the hole in the roof like I am. "Oh, shit!" He exclaims in shock.

"Oh, shit!" Clyde echoes. The two rush over to the entrance, no doubt trying to figure out what's going on.

It takes me several seconds before I realize what's just happened. Once I clue in though, I don't waste any time.

I slap the bucket. Filthy water pours out over the floor with a clang, and I cringe at the sound, eyes darting to the morons. And thank the fucking lord they're doing their idiot heritage proud, staring blankly out the entrance without even glancing in my direction. When I grab the bucket next I'm considerably more careful.

The edge of the bucket is swiftly and quietly positioned under the head of the nail, and I start pulling. Its slow going at first, but the bucket gives me enough leverage to get the thing moving. And once it starts to move it gets much easier.

The result is a slightly rusty nail, almost as long as my hand and about the width of my finger. I take advantage of the scrub brush and polish some of the rust off quickly, then stash it inside my pant leg. The ratty clothing I've been given makes tangling the nail securely out of sight pretty easy.

Roughly half a minute later Ezra comes bursting into the church, screaming obscenities at Fish and Clyde. He finds me scrubbing away with the last of the water and comes to an abrupt stop, staring at me in disbelief.

"Your guards kicked over my bucket when they were running around." I say, giving him my best dead-eyed stare. "I'd ask for another, but it looks like you've got other things to worry about."

Ezra backhands me in the face. I try to weather the blow, but I'm running on fumes and way lighter than I'm really used to, so he knocks me on my ass regardless. "Get him in his cell. Now. Get them all in their cells. They'll just have to live with the smell. If they work fast enough tomorrow they can finish the job."

Fish and Clyde stare blankly for a few seconds, which seems to be about all that's left of Ezra's patience. "Did I fucking stutter? MOVE. Every second you stand around gaping like morons is time we could be spending cleaning up after Grey's fuck up. If we don't round up-" He stops at that, looking back to me as though suddenly remembering that I'm there. He whirls back to the morons. "You still haven't moved."

The two flinch, run to me, and hoist me to my feet by my armpits. Fish drags me to the cell, and Clyde runs ahead, fumbling with the keys. They chase me to the back of my room and keep me there while the other prisoners are brought back inside. Just like before, I have no opportunity to check for familiar faces.

Which is fine at this point. I've got my hands full just worrying about me.


The prisoners were worked two days in a row. Unusual, but apparently necessary. Work on day two consisted of nailing boards and canvas over the gaps in the building. Seems like winter's due to set in properly real soon, and having a hole in the roof for snow to get in is bad for the stock.

Of course I'm left out of this work. They don't want to risk letting me get my hands on a hammer, or nails. Little do they know… I already have a nail. And that nail is now being used to get… more nails.

It's all I have to work with, so I'm going to damn well get the most out of it. Chungus is still taking time off while the prisoners are working, and I'm locked up in my cage, so the guards focus on all the prisoners that have hammers instead. That leaves me plenty of time unsupervised, to myself.

With no need to be sneaky about it I just tear into the corner by my toilet and dig up another nail. It takes the better part of the day, but I'm now twice as armed as before. And once that's done I decide to abide by the rule of threes, like any proper gamer would. I'm back under watch by this point, so the last nail takes me a good three days more to safely remove. It's mind numbing hours of quietly working my nail into the wood, chipping it away bit by bit and discarding the scraps into the toilet. I can't pound it in with anything; the noise would be a dead giveaway to my plan. So I just scrape. Slowly.

I don't know what it says about my sanity that I'm able to focus on this so intently. My mental state was always rather dubious, so after all this? I'm lucky I'm still thinking straight. A part of me wonders if the depression is helping in a way. I've been fighting through despair all my life, after all. This is just a slightly more extreme version of my worst days.

The newfound sense of optimism is… weird, honestly. But not too hard to understand. I have weapons, shit though they may be. I have a plan, shit though it may be. I'm as ready to carry it out as I'll ever be.

One way or another I won't be caged here for much longer.


"HEY FUCKFACE!"

The first phase of my plan is rather obvious.

"DO YOU HEAR ME YOU NECKLESS TROLL, GET OVER HERE."

It's also pretty satisfying.

"YOU UGLY PILE OF SHIT! YOU FAT STUPID FUCK! COME FUCKING KILL ME LIKE YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD, IF YOU HAVE THE BALLS FOR IT! OVERSIZED PANTY-WAIST SON OF A WHORE!"

Chungus takes his time walking over, like he has every other time he's singled out one of his prisoners.

"YOU WALKING HORSE SCROTUM! YOU SLIMY PILE OF DOG VOMIT. YOUR SLUT MOTHER SHOULD HAVE SWALLOWED YOU LIKE SHE DID THE REST OF THE GOAT JIZZ SHE DRANK BEFORE BED!"

So far this is my favorite part of the plan. Insulting this guy is a masterpiece in catharsis. This is also the phase of the plan where I'm least likely to die, so that's a plus.

"I told you what would happen if you talked back." Chungus says slowly, cracking his knuckles as he comes looming out of the darkness.

"Yeah, I know, I clearly referenced that in my third insult." I scoff, brandishing the leg of my bed at him from behind the bars of my cage. "Were you even paying attention?"

"I don't make a habit of listening to what dead men have to say." Chungus leers at me, pulling the keys from his waist.

"Wow." I step back and blink. "Do you spend your days off at the theatre, or does this world just not know what the fuck a cliché is? Because that was just the most generic 'tough guy' machismo bullshit I've ever heard."

Chungus proves to be a man of his word, ignoring me and walking up to the door. "I told Ezra I'd have to kill you. He wanted to keep you so badly, but I knew you'd take too long to break. I've been looking forward to this."

"Bitch, I was broken when I got here." I laugh mirthlessly as the door opens. Phase one successfully completed.

Then he grabs me and I'm not laughing anymore.

Chungus is no stranger to hurting people. He is a meticulous monster who crushes people piece by piece, and that all comes back to his ability to hurt people with his bare hands. His freakshow gorilla arms are deceptively fast, and I'm in a small room with no room to run. When he reaches in I have nowhere to go.

I'm dragged bodily out of the cage by the arm, so that Chungus can deliver his punishment, and start swinging my makeshift club the moment I'm out. He catches it with his free hand, and I do what any sensible person would do: go straight for the balls. Chungus sees my leg going for him and heaves me right off my feet, throwing me into the wall. A poor move on his part: if he'd thrown me at one of the cages I'd be in way worse shape.

As it is the worn down wooden walls of the church make for a comparatively soft landing, though they still nearly knock the wind out of me. Even half-starved to death I'm not light enough to toss around without some difficulty, it seems. I bounce back to my feet just in time to duck away from a haymaker that smashes a hole in the wooden wall, and respond by swinging my club into his side.

The feel of the blow is satisfying, but other than a hissing of air from his nostrils he doesn't react, instead ripping the club from my hand and tossing it aside. I throw a punch, but it's weak enough that he doesn't seem to even notice it.

His hands bulldoze past my guard and grab my throat. I feel a vice around my windpipe immediately. He leans over me, a self-satisfied grin on my face as he pins me to the wall.

We got here sooner than expected, but I'm not complaining. Never had any illusions about winning a fist fight with Chungus.

I paw weakly at his face with my left hand, while my right grabs the first nail from the waist of my trousers. I drive it into his face before he realizes what hit him.

His head snaps aside as his eyeball pops, and I curse as he throws himself backwards, tearing the nail from my hand before I can drive it into his brain. He bellows like an ox, clutching at his bleeding face.

When he looks back up at me his remaining eye is burning with hatred, but I've retrieved my club by then, and am already swinging for his head. He brings an arm up in time to block it, but it's a clumsy attempt; I break two of the fingers on his right hand.

He rushes at me shoulder-first, slamming me into the wall, and I bring the second nail into his gut. The nail is pretty dull, but I'm running on pure adrenaline and hatred right now so I make the move work. As soon as I feel give I start twisting, and he gasps as I drill into his intestines.

He staggers back, looking down at the mess I've made in shock (though most of said damage is internal), and I tear the nail out as he goes. Blood pours from the wound, but if their doctor can work a staff this won't be enough to kill him. Most he can die from so far is infection.

Chungus seems to realize this too, and I see him straighten in resolve as he looks back up at me. His remaining eye hardens once more, his hands move away from his injuries, and he seems to pull himself together once more.

Then he turns and starts running.

"What the fuck?" I blink in shock for a moment before events catch up to me. Chungus seemed so freaking prideful I didn't expect him to do the smart thing and go to warn the others. If he does though… "Shit!"

I rush after him as he rounds the corner. If he gets out of the building it's over for me. The guards at the other building will realize something's wrong and I'll be killed. Possibly along with the other prisoners for good measure. "Get back here you coward!"

Chungus looks back at me and grins. His head start is enough, and he knows it. That gut wound isn't slowing him down at all. I can outrun him, but he'll be within earshot of his friends by the time I catch up. If only there was some way to slow him down, or trip him-

As I'm thinking this an arm lunges out of a cage and grabs Chungus by the ankle. Oh. Well I guess that works.

Well, it works for me, at least. It definitely doesn't work out for either of the other two involved parties. Chungus is moving fast enough that the arm that grabs him is wrenched backwards against the bars of the cage and brutally broken. But it proves to be enough to trip Chungus, who falls to the ground hard enough that the cage doors rattle. He barely manages to catch himself, but when somebody that big goes over he fucking feels it.

Basically when I reach the two of them both are screaming blue murder. The prisoner is thrashing around in the dark of the cage, clutching their arm in pain, while Chungus looks to have injured his wrist while breaking his fall. He's still struggling to recover, but I don't let him. Nail number two comes to a final stop in his throat, putting a stop to his screaming. I practically have to mount the freak from behind in order to get it there, but I damn well make it work. And then, while he clutches at his throat in vain, I roll him over with a solid kick (his thrashing around actually makes this easier), and bring the club up again.

Hammer, meet nail. Nice of him to leave the first one in his eye, right where I left it. The first blow is clumsy, only half hitting my target, but it does the job well enough, driving the nail further in and killing the man immediately. The next five hits are entirely unnecessary. I just hate this fucker too much to stop.

Once that's done, and I can look down at my handiwork in satisfaction, I grab the keys from Chungus' belt and move to the cage of my assistant. I open the door and get down on one knee next to the poor bugger, laying a hand gently on their shoulder. "Easy there, pal. Not sure how bad the break is, but no way all that kicking and screaming is gonna help matters."

There's a choked gasp as I help them to their feet. "Here we go, come on, let's get you sat down by the torch over there so we can take a proper look at this."

"M-mister Benjamin?" A voice asks tentatively.

My jaw drops. "Donnel?"

I lead the way out of the cage and towards the single torch set by the entrance, revealing that it is indeed Donnel, sobbing quietly as he cradles his arm. "Aww fuck, you broke your left again Donny?"

"Is it really you M-mister Benjamin?" Donnel stares up at me, wide-eyed. "We were reckonin' you might be here, but we-" He breaks off for a moment, gasping with either pain or emotion. "We never saw hide nor hair of you. I was starting to think that you, you were-"

"Well I'm not." I cut him off firmly. "I'm here, alive and ready to kick some ass. See, killed that guard, and it only cost me a couple of fingers!" I pause for a moment and do a quick self-diagnosis, just to be sure. "Also might have cracked some ribs. Damn, he threw me harder than I thought."

"Oh, this is amazin', it surely is!" Donnel gasps in delight. "Severa's gonna be pleased as a pig in slop that we found you!"

"Severa's here too?" I freeze in shock and whirl around to the other cages. "Severa? Severa, speak up!"

"Oh no, begging your pardon Mister Benjamin, I didn't mean to imply she was stuck in one of these here cages!" Donnel protests, waving his good arm for a moment before letting out a sharp cry of pain and cradling his broken one again. "Ah… I meant that she's out in the woods. The two of us have been watching this place for weeks now. Only a few days ago, I went and got captured while out setting snares… again." His face becomes visibly irritated as he trails off.

"That's good then! She can help us get these people out of here!" I turn and regard the other cages at that. "Speaking of which, I should get started on that."


Donnel needs to rest from his injury, so I handle most of the walking around while he sits at the entrance. Opening the cages proves to be surreal for everyone involved, and not nearly as rewarding as I'd hoped. Most of the people in the cages don't as much as look at me. They still don't believe they have a chance to get out, even with that monster of a guard lying dead by the entrance. Only a few dare to shuffle out of the cages, most of them the newer prisoners. One of them, a teenage boy by the name of Darius, decides to help me out by lighting a spare torch and letting me see what I'm doing. The others just stare at the floor, seeming content to wait until they're herded back in.

Then I reach the final row of cages, the ones for important prisoners. The same place I've been trapped for almost a month. I take a deep breath.

"Ready with that light, Darius?"

"I am, sir." His voice shakes as he replies, but I pretend not to notice. He's better off than most here, so I'm happy to have him.

"Good man. Let's finish the job."

There's a dozen of these cages, and only half of them were occupied, not including myself. My closest neighbors in this hellhole, and I never got to so much as look at them. It's an odd feeling, seeing them for the first time under these circumstances. It almost seems more… personal than with the others I've released.

The first two cages house some Feroxi soldiers, Ambrose and Julia, both of whom have been trapped for long enough that they're practically skin and bone. They tell me they stumbled upon this operation months ago, as part of a larger group. They were ambushed by Ezra's Griffons and torn apart. There were other survivors, all sold and shipped off overseas as private bodyguards not long before I was picked up.

The next is the child of a local landowner, who was being held for ransom. He's far too young for this place, though he seems in good health. The soldiers were giving him their share of bread.

The next is an adult woman who gets so anxious watching as I sort through the keys that she breaks into hysterics. She's inconsolable, to the point where I never find out why she was kept here.

I have the soldiers lead her away, then look to the next cage. The torchlight is dim enough that it barely fills the distance between cages, and I wave Darius closer.

The prisoner sits cross-legged in the middle of the cage, back to the bars. Her figure is clearly female, and she has black hair down to her shoulders. She's muttering to herself about something, though I can't make out the words from where I'm standing.

"You alright in there?" I ask, starting to cycle through keys. The girl doesn't respond, though her muttering increases slightly in volume. "Uhh, hello?" I finally get the cage open and open the door, which squeaks loudly. The girl doesn't respond. I look back to Darius in confusion. The boy can only shrug in response.

"Okay then." I sigh and step into the cage. "Come on miss, let's not keep the next one in line waiting."

I place a hand gently on her shoulder, and she immediately whirls around. "BLOOD AND THUNDER! CEASE YOUR PRATTLE, FOOL. I WILL ADDRESS YOU WHEN I AM GOOD AND READY!"

"Holy shit, Noire!" I lean back in shock. After all this time I'd completely forgotten there was a chance I'd find her here. I whirl around and toss Darius the keys. "Here kid, finish up for me will you?"

The boy fumbles with the keys for a moment, but manages to catch them, nods dutifully, and rushes along to the last cage. This leaves me free to turn back to a shocked Noire, who stares up at me like she's seen a ghost.

"Uncle Ben? You… know who I am?" Noire says quietly.

"Course I do!" I grin down at her. The sudden personality shift is a dead giveaway honestly, though I keep that thought internalized. "I'm totally in the loop."

"Oh my goodness!" Noire gasps in shock. "Ben was right! I mean, you were right! Which isn't unusual, I guess, but I didn't think it would still apply in the past!"

"Uh… huh." I blink at the outburst, and look over to Darius nervously. He's shooting curious glances in this direction, but the last prisoner seems to be a talker, so the kid's distracted. "Let's keep the future talk on the down low for now, okay Noire?"

"Oh! Right, I'm sorry!" Noire winces, clapping her hands to her mouth. "I just, I heard your voice, and I thought I recognized it, but I didn't think it could actually be you. I heard you, when they brought you here weeks ago, but you never said anything since then so I thought I might be imagining things. And even though you said you'd know all about the time travel in this time I was scared because I didn't know if I should risk talking to you. And, and I thought to myself, 'I haven't been born yet so he won't even recognize me.'"

She steps closer as the words come spilling out, faster and faster, "I wanted to call to you so badly, but I didn't think it could really be you, and if I did speak that guard would have probably killed me. Or do worse things, like the other guards who stare at me whenever they bring food, and… and… BWAAAAAH!" She bursts into tears and I immediately brace for impact.

The girl collapses against my chest, and I cringe as I realize how little she weighs. If memory serves Noire was always anemic; it's a wonder she's survived with the diet she's been living off of here. Even with cracked ribs I barely feel the impact as she cries into my arms. "I've been so scared, and I couldn't do anything without my bow, or any of my friends! The men here keep looking at me like they want to… to… and… and I was nearly sold to a nobleman last month and I know he would've!"

"Oh my god." I feel myself choking up as she speaks, and hold her as tightly as I can with my broken fingers. "Oh Noire, it's okay, it'll all be okay now."

"YOU'RE LATE! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HERE SOONER, DAMN FOOL!" She screams even as she sobs, her two personalities seeming to blend together as I hold her.

"I know, kiddo." I reply, "I'm sorry."

Even my depressed ass doesn't believe the things she's saying, but I'd do her no good arguing. Bad as this place has been for me, I know she's had it so much worse.

"I've got you." I say, rubbing circles in her back. "I'm gonna get you out of here, and we're going to meet up with Severa again, and-"

"Severa?" Noire looks up at me hopefully. "She's here? You've talked to her?"

"She joined the Shepherds a couple months ago." I reply with a grin. "Donnel says she's been out here trying to find us for a few weeks now. She probably knows you're here; lord knows they let you outside more than they ever did with me. Running story is that she grew up in a mercenary group, so we'll just tell everyone you're from the same group."

"Umm… okay?" Her expression tells me she's got a lot more questions, but I cut her off with a shake of my head.

"I'll let her fill you in on things around here once we meet up." I say, gently detaching myself from her. "Come on, let's get everyone out of here."

"Right!" Noire wipes the tears from her eyes and gives me a fragile smile.

It's a short walk to where the others are, but what I see in that time is enough to worry me. Noire leans heavily on me the whole walk. It's possible that it's just an emotional support thing, but the way she's breathing heavily tells me that there's more to it than that. The girl barely has the strength to stand.

I bring her straight to Donnel, who's getting some basic field medicine done on his arm courtesy of Ambrose. "How's it looking?" I ask as I approach.

"It's a bad break." Ambrose says grimly, as he fashions a sling out of blankets and Chungus' belt. "And it doesn't help that he's broken this same arm a month ago. Could lead to some mobility problems down the line."

Donnel looks about as stunned at that as I feel, and I clap him on the shoulder to snap him out of it. "Chin up, Donny. When we get back Lissa will patch it up good as new." Seeing the relieved smile on his face eases the sudden tension I feel in my gut. Ambrose gives me a look, but thankfully chooses not to comment.

Looks like Ambrose has proper medical training, though he lacks a staff, so I leave Noire with him as well and move on to Julia, who's keeping watch by the entrance. The rest of the prisoners nailed up blankets when they were working the other day, so the dark maw of a hole is well covered, save for a small gap that she peers through. "Any sign the others know what's going on?"

"All that yelling you two did, they know something happened." Julia snorts, eyes not moving from the opening. "They won't check tonight though. The only person they fear more than that guard is Ezra. It's a near thing, but once he's up in the morning they'll send people over to clean you off the walls."

"And when they discover it's Chungus instead of me they'll be real pissed off." I pause at the look she gives me, and realize that this is the first time I've used the nickname out loud. "I don't know his real name and I don't care to. He's Chungus, and will forever be remembered as such."

Julia snorts at that, finally turning away from the door. "I suppose if I was told to picture a Chungus, that's what I'd come up with." Julia is clearly a woman of impeccable tastes, and I can't help but grin at her response.

We chat for a little while longer until Ambrose finally joins us. "That girl you brought to me is in rough shape." He says without preamble. "As in, she might be in the worst health here, and that's saying something."

"Fuck." I grimace, "Okay, where's the nearest settlement from here? No, shit, not just a settlement, it needs to have proper fortifications."

"Best bet would probably be the wall." Julia says after a moment of thought. "If the weather waits just a little longer to turn, we could make it in a day and a half."

"How many of them could keep that pace?" I look back at the huddled prisoners, most of whom still stare dead-eyed at the floor.

"Half if we're lucky." Ambrose says.

"Sounds about right." I sigh and drag my hair back from my face. "Okay, how about unfortified settlements between here and the Longfort?"

"There aren't any." Julia says. "The people that used to live here scattered all over Regna Ferox, so there's no real trade route through here anymore."

"Shit fucking hell ass balls." I gasp out. "Okay, fine. Donnel! Front and center, man!"

Donnel's already standing, having given his seat to Noire, and jogs over immediately. "Yes Sir Mister Benjamin, what are you needin' of me Sir?" 'Sir Mister Benjamin', holy shit kid we have to talk about this title thing once we're not about to die.

"You know where Severa's made camp?" I ask urgently.

Donnel raises his hand to his chin thoughtfully as he muses. "Well, I know where she was camping a few days ago, but we've been moving around for weeks now. I reckon she's found a new spot, especially after I done went and got myself caught! But… I might be able to track her down."

"How likely is that?"

"It'll be real tricky, Severa's real good at sneaking and whatnot…" Donnel thinks for a few moments. "But I can do it. I been camping with her long enough that I know all the stuff she tends to miss when she's covering her tracks."

I think back to Cordelia's spear lesson, when Donnel showed how potent his vision is. "Alright. Do it. Now. Find her, and bring her back as quickly as possible. Make sure to tell her where I am when you do."

Julia and Ambrose trade uneasy looks as I lead Donnel outside. The kid has an uncertain frown on his face. "Uhh, and where are you going?"

I put the question aside and stick my head back in, looking to Julia. "Anyone who pokes their head in that isn't me, Donnel, or a pouty redhead, you kill them, alright?"

"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" Julia looks at me nervously.

"Fuck yes I am." I give her a savage grin. "The way I see it, we won't be able to leave any time soon, which means we need to get our hands on two things: supplies and security. And it just so happens that there's only one way to get both of those things here."

"If this goes wrong we could all be killed."

"If it looks like it's going wrong then get everyone back in their cages. If it looks like they haven't left then there's no reason to kill them." I look back at the others and frown. "Doesn't look like they'd argue anyways."

Julia grimaces at my assessment, but doesn't disagree. I nod at her implied agreement and call out to the rest of the room. "Alright folks, I'm stepping out for a bit! Julia's in charge while I'm gone. Be good now!" Most don't even look in my direction. Even Darius seems preoccupied, looking after that noble's kid. I guess sarcastic humor isn't really hitting home with anyone at the moment. Which is fair.

I duck back outside and find Donnel still looking up at me, worry plain to see all over his face. "Uhh, M-Mister Benjamin?"

"Hmm? Oh right, your question." I nod to myself, and gesture vaguely in the direction of the main building. "I'm going to go kill those people."

Donnel's eyes bug out of his head. "You're- You- Huh?"

"An excellent point, and eloquently put!" I move to clap him on the shoulder again, but stop when I realize I can only reach his left shoulder from where I'm standing. I ruffle his hair instead. "And while I recognize your concerns, I have several very valid reasons to do this."

"You mean the supply thing you were talking with Miss Julia about?"

"Yeah, that's certainly important." I nod sagely, drawing my nail. "But mostly, I just want to murder them."

Donnel's eyes somehow bulge even wider, and I smile grimly. "Do yourself a favor, Donnel. Don't go after me unless it's absolutely necessary. I'd keep Severa out of this as well, but she's the strongest person in the area by a longshot, so I'll probably need her help."

Donnel looks like he desperately wants to argue, but can't seem to find the words. When he does find his resolve a moment later, he simply nods grimly and dashes off for the woods without saying a word. The darkness swallows him up in an instant, and I'm left standing alone outside the door.

For the best really. I'm about to let out a lot of pent up aggression here. And I'm not sure I want anyone to have a front seat to what I have planned.


Apparently when I labelled this story as a "self indulgent self insert", what I meant was: "I'm gonna adopt like, thirty teenagers!"

... Yeah that seems reasonable.

Other self-indulgence goal: "I'm gonna bathe in the blood of my enemies!"

There's gonna be a lot of that going on next time. =D