Chapter 2

	Be Arsofina, proud elven huntress and frontierswoman. Currently you were setting the last of your snares for the day. To get the best meat and furs, one had to leave the safety of the villages and their surroundings and venture out where no elf or monster roamed. The Akarondi river, which was an unofficial but universally acknowledged border between elf and amazon territories, was the perfect place to set snares. Plenty of game came to the river to drink and feed on the lush plants and plentiful insects on its banks.

	Using the last of your cordage to craft a larger snare, you bait the trap with some fruit. Stretching, you look to the sky to see how much daylight you have left. By the look of it, about four hours of daylight remain, plenty of time to set up a comfy camp and have a nice meal. Tomorrow you would clear the snares, and head home. Wandering west, away from the traps you had set, you begin to look for a suitable place to camp.
~~~~~
	Be Anon. We last left our hero as he was making his way across a VERY POORLY CONSTRUCTED and SHODDILY CRAFTED bridge. It took you the better part of an hour to crawl across the wet logs to reach the opposite shore. Though the logs near the shore were securely anchored, some of the logs in the middle of the bridge were more loosely attached to each other. As you began to put weight on the first of such logs it had begun to roll under you. The rest of the trip was hesitantly testing the next link in the bridge, and scrambling across it on all fours if it rolled. The real problem was when there were multiple of such logs in a row. But you finally made it to the other side, cursing whoever made the structure.

	Standing up and doing your best to scrape some of the mud off your torso, you look deeper into the jungle. No sign of anyone. There was also an absence of tools or fishing equipment near this side of the bridge. By now it was a bit later than noon, the sun still shining amidst the few wispy clouds in the sky. Parting your cracked lips, you utter the first words since arriving here.

“Hello?”

The call was much weaker than you intended. But even the act of yelling was draining to you in this state. The only thing keeping you going was your goal to find civilization. This was do or die. A shudder wracked your body. The gravity of the situation was really beginning to sink in. No matter how bad the situation was, how much you hurt, how hungry or thirsty you got, no one was going to come for you. There was no ‘giving up’ in this situation. The only thing to do was to press on. Pushing onward, you part the underbrush and enter the cool shade of the jungle once more.
~~~~~~
	Be Madari, amazon chief. Currently you were tracking the person or monster who had defiled the Pool of the Ancestors, your most sacred site. With you were your raiders, amongst them your daughter and high-priestess. By right, you led the party in tracking the interloper, but this was a bit embarrassing. Whoever made the tracks obviously had no forestry skill at all. Their path wove all across the jungle, taking inefficient routs over obstacles and needless trips through hazards and rough terrain. The signs of their passing were easy to see. Clear prints, ruffled leaf litter, trampled plants, even if it had rained an infant amazon could have tracked the culprit. The interloper was also moving at a snail’s pace. Already your party had passed a small crevice formed by a rock and some branches where they had taken shelter. At least they would be caught in no time.

“Mother, look.”

Snapped from your frustrated musings, you turn towards your daughter crouching next to a large rock to your right. She was your pride and joy, big even by amazon standards, probably going to be as big as you some day. She was always cool and collected, and while you sometimes wondered if she had the zeal and charisma to lead the tribe, her fighting and hunting skills were second to only you. Indeed, she would no doubt surpass you before long. Squatting next to her, you inspect what she found.

“Stool, about three or four days old.”

“Yes, looks about right. Tell me daughter, what else can you tell from this?”

You daughter paused for a moment, carefully extracting all the useful information she could from this clue.

“Well, the size and consistency appear to indicate dehydration and lack of food. Whoever… made this… had not had anything to eat or drink for some time.”

You nod approvingly. Now for the finisher.

“So, we now know that they have been moving slowly and clumsily through the forest. They take refuge in the mud rather than find a dry place or building a shelter. And now we know that they are slowly dying of thirst and hunger. What can you tell us about this interloper now?" you asked.

“They must not know the terrain,” your daughter answered. “We passed plenty of edible plants and roots, but none of them had so much of a bite taken out of them. Water collects in plenty of places in the forest, but the interloper appears to have not utilized any of them. Even children can build a shelter, but this interloper lacks the intelligence to do even that. But the most important detail is the path they are taking. The trail makes no deviations to any landmark and does not follow a straight line. Without a doubt, this idiot is lost.”

You can’t help but grin when you see the other raiders mummer in approval at your daughter’s astute assessment of the situation. But there was always room for improvement.

“Very good. I too would wager that this magician is lost. However, there is a critical fallacy with your deduction. This person is a mage. She may be an outlander, but there is little chance she is a dullard. Ignorant of the ways of the jungle perhaps, but we are ignorant of the ways of the outlanders magics.”

Your lecture was interrupted as Yamazi loudly cleared her throat. You turned to glare at her and she at once decided that the charms on her staff needed readjustment.

“Shaezara my daughter, you must never underestimate your foe. Beyond the realm of trees and brush is their domain. Magicians are stronger than a single amazon could ever hope to be. Strength is strength, and it does not always manifest in a strong back or keen eyes.”

Yamazi seemed to take offence to the first half of the statement, but eagerly nodded and looked around for conformation at the last bit.

“I understand. It will not happen again mother.” your daughter said.
“You do me proud Shaezara. Never forget that.”

 You put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smile down at her. Her usually expressionless face breaks into a smile as well and she gives a small nod.

Turning back to the trail, you give a sharp whistle and start off after your quarry again.
~~~~~~
	Be Anon. Hungriest human in the whole damn jungle. There really was nothing substantial to eat here. You had done your best to eat any insects you had come across, but you had yet to eat any vegetation. It was too great of a risk to just start eating berries or digging up roots with no idea of what they may be. Your body was at its limits and you could barely raise your feet enough to walk. Every step left a trench in the leaflitter all the way down to the moist soil below. The sun had begun to set and the last rays of light were almost blinding as you marched towards your only point of reference.

	Could this be the end? You had been able to keep moving for so long because you had believed that there must be someone looking for you, or some settlement just ahead. But even after you had found a man-made structure, there were still no people in sight. Just because they left the bridge doesn’t mean that the people who built it were still around. Was it even worth it to keep fighting like this? Were you just prolonging the inevitable? You had tried harder than you ever had before. Perhaps death was now the most noble and sensible thing to do. You had certainly earned it.

Parting the brush in front of you, you spy a pile of fruit.

	FUCK THAT. Death can take his faggy scythe and shove it up his boney ass. Scrambling on all fours you pounce on the fruit.
Your mouth waters as you bring the alien plant to your face. It looks like a peach, but pink and lustrous. Giving an experimental sniff, you find that it is fragrant and inviting. Somehow you know this is food. It has to be. Be it some strange magic in this afterlife or your brain’s primal center instructing you on what to eat, this thing in your hands is certified good eatins’. Opening your parched mouth, you take a huge bite of the fruit.

	It’s everything you thought it would be and more. It may be the starvation, but you could honestly say that this one bit of fruit in your mouth was the best thing you had ever tasted. The inside of the fruit was white, and mind-blowingly sweet. You were surprised at the texture though, which was more starchy than you would have guessed. You can almost feel your strength begin to return. Quickly swallowing, you finish the rest of the fruit in a few bites and move on to the next.

	As you lift the next fruit, you feel something tighten around your leg. Without warning, you are yanked back, and left with your right leg hanging from a small tree and your back in the mud. A snare! Shit! But that meant people! Cool! You were saved! Someone would come check the trap, and then you were home free!

	But… it was almost night. You had never spent the night in the open like this. More importantly, the tight snare on your leg was starting to hurt. You try to reach up and free yourself, but your emaciated body isn’t up to such a feat. Twisting your head, you can see the rest of the fruit pile lying frustratingly close. You could now see the stick that held the snare peeking out from the side of the pile. The sun disappears over the horizon leaving you in darkness. The only thing you could do now is wait.

	As you began to try to settle yourself in a comfortable position, or any position that let your leg circulate blood, you feel a sharp pain in your stomach. With a moan you clench your stomach and squirm. Maybe that fruit was poisonous after all. The pain intensifies and sweat starts to break out on your brow. It feels like you’re getting a bad virus. You feel hot and your abdominals are on fire and spasming out of control. With a groan you twist your head to the side as the telltale feeling of illness wells up in your stomach.

	With a wretch, you spit up the first round of vomit. Gasping and moaning, you heave again. And again. Any strength you had gained was gone now. You felt weaker than ever. You knew that you were dehydrated as well after losing so much fluid. As if you weren’t before. Exhausted, you pass out, never expecting to wake up again.
~~~~~
	Be Arsofina. Time to check your traps. Rising out of your hammock with the first rays of dawn, you break camp and head out into the forest. As you move silently through the underbrush, the first birdcalls find your ears. Lazy slow notes calling their family to rise and live another day.

	The first few snares were successful, and you collected the rabbits and game birds without any hassle. The fishing line you set had been tripped, but the fish was long gone with your bait. The first large game snare you had set was empty. As you parted the underbrush and entered the small clearing in the bushes where you set the next snare, you dropped your bow. What the fuck was this.
Clearly it was human. That was the only thing that made sense. Humans are dumb and clumsy so it was no big surprise that one was dumb enough to take the bait and get stuck. That was the only thing that was obvious about this situation. Since his shirt was pulled down by gravity, bunched up around his neck, you could tell that your captive was male. That’s a problem. Disgusting savage is probably brimming with demonic energy. Well, was. You weren’t sure yet whether he was alive. It was easy to see that he was starving, and his limbs were coated in blisters and pealing skin from too much time in the sun. The color of his skin was a mystery as well. You had never seen a human so pale. From what you had heard, they were not nearly this fair skinned. He must hail from a faraway land, for you had never seen such strange clothes either. His shirt appeared to be a shirt, but with sleeves that did not extend past the bicep. His light brown pants only reached up to his knee, which was still being suspended by your snare. On his feet were crusty socks, with shoes the likes of which you had never seen. They appeared to be made of material other than leather, what it was you could not say. Every inch of him was caked in mud and grime, especially his head and shoulders which were laying in the mud. Beside him was a pile of dark vomit, indicating that he had already been on deaths door when he stumbled into the trap. No one could cough up that much blood and live. How long had he been out here? You got a sickening suspicion that what you were looking at may someone who got lost, but a prisoner who escaped.

	Skirting the clearing, you find the footprints and scuffs in the dirt where he had entered the gap in the brush. Coming from the east. That confirms it. Poor bastard was probably trying to escape his “wife.” No surprise since amazons were even more crude and vile than humans. Even before the taint spread across the realm they had been a thorn in the side of all elven kind. This man probably got sick of being raped and tried to make it to elven territory. Strange. As an amazon incubus you thought he would be a bit tougher than this. Moving to the small tree that suspended his leg in the air, you release the knot and let his legs fall to the ground.
As his feet hit the dark earth, a small moan causes you to jump back and draw your knife. Oh shit, he’s alive. Trotting over to his head, you see his lips move ever so slightly. You hadn’t noticed before, but his chest was moving, contracting in short ragged breaths at infrequent intervals. His eyes were still closed, still unconscious. Squatting down, you lean in towards his face.
Bile was caked on the side of his face and mouth where he had thrown up. Upon closer inspection, it didn’t look quite like the bloody bile you had thought it to be. It was even darker, an almost tar-like substance. You got a bad feeling from it. Not just because it was vomit either. Carefully prodding his cheek with the back of your knife, you try to rouse him.

“Hey, come on, get up.”

	Ok, so that may not have been the best thing to say. Clearly he was incapable of getting up, or he wouldn’t be caught in a trap. He might not speak elven either, probably only understands common and that guttural amazon speak. Switching to your best common, you prod him again.

“Get up.”

	His head was pushed to the side as you poked it, rolling into the pile of vomit. Eww.
With a sigh you accept the fact that he was not going to make it without your help. Taking your water skin from your waist, you do your best to pour some into his mouth. Most of it ends up running down his chin, but his lips eventually let out a sputter and cough. Without opening his eyes, his mouth begins to open and close a bit, eagerly drinking your meager offering. With a groan, his eyes slowly open. By the Gods, what was he?

	He had blue eyes! That didn’t seem right at all. From what you had heard about humans and the few times you had interacted with them, you knew that blue was not an eye color that they were supposed to have. That color was exclusive to monsters! Was he an incubus after all? Moving to his belt, which you couldn’t help notice was very ornate and well made, you quickly undo the buckle and pull down his pants.

Nope. Defiantly not an incubus.

	With a heavy blush, you redo his clothing, and refocus your attention to his head.
Though his eyes were open, he didn’t seem to be completely lucid yet. His head swayed back and forth, and his face wore a confused and vacant look. As you entered his view, he paused only briefly looking through you not at you, before his head rocked back to the other side.

“Hey. Can. You. Understand. Me.”

	You punctuated each word with a gesture. His eyes roamed back in the opposite direction and focused on you again. This time he stared at you, and his expression seemed to change a bit. He moaned and closed his eyes once more. Taking your water skin, you begin to pour more water onto his lips. His mouth opens and drinks all it can before letting out a dry cough. Fuck, he probably needs food too. Taking a few berries you had foraged earlier, you drop them into his mouth. Normally you would place them into his mouth, but there was no way you were going to touch someone potentially coated in demonic energy, much less one covered in vomit and dirt.

	He almost chokes as the first berry makes it into his mouth, but as his teeth break the fruit, his jaw begins to work a bit faster. You continue the process, dropping one berry at a time. It was actually kind of entertaining. Taking a handful of berries, you drop a dozen or so into his mouth at once.

	With a great heave, his body coughs and chokes as the unanticipated berry barrage blocks his airway. A few half-chewed barriers fly past your head, but in the end he dose manage to finish chewing about half of them.

	For a few moments he just sits there, panting. Raising his right arm, he brings it over his face and rests his eyes in the crook of his elbow. As his breathing returns to normal, or, normal for his state, he removes his arm and looks at you again. His cracked lips part and he mummers something to you.

{please help me…}

What the hell was that. You’re not sure if it’s because he spoke so softly or he had an accent, but you couldn’t understand a word he said. Maybe he wasn’t speaking common.

“Can. You. Speak. Common.”

He stared at you.

{please help me.}

You still couldn’t understand what he was saying, but the look on his face told you more than words ever could. It was a pathetic pleading face on a broken man. You imagine he would be crying if his body had the water to spare. You stand up and turn around.
Fuck. This was not good. You really shouldn’t mess with this guy. He was probably claimed by amazons, he was human, and he would be a huge hassle to help. He couldn’t even speak your language! Behind you, he spoke again, this time louder than a whisper.

{Please help me.}

No, no, no… Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. It shouldn’t be hard at all. He was a lesser species, he was already doomed to be amazon bait, and you didn’t have the time or resources to care for him and risk being turned. A choked sob escaped his lips, causing you to flinch.

{Please help me!}

	He began to softly cry, and thrash in the dirt. Even with all his limbs free, he still only succeeded in rolling back in forth. You clenched your fists and tried to steel your resolve. He was like an infant in a crib. Damnit. With a heavy sigh, you turn around and return to the broken human.

	His tantrum subsides as he sees you return, and his contorted face breaks out in a small smile. Your look of disgust wipes it off. Even if you couldn’t leave him for dead, you were revolted by him. At least he seemed to understand that he should be ashamed of himself. More than could be said about most humans.

	You look to the sky again and see the sun had just past it’s highest point, just after noon. You had already emptied most of your traps, but you were going to miss out on collecting some of the big-game snares you had set if you tend to him. This endeavor was getting more costly by the minute. Oh well, you could always enslave him when this was all said and done and set him to work for the rest of his short, miserable life. It would be nice to have a steady source of extra income. Or sell him to some monster trader passing by the city. He looked like an uncommon specimen, so you could probably get a nice bit of cash or goods for him. Heck, you could even combine the two plans and sell him when he gets a bit older. This was just an investment, not a loss. Grinning, you begin to tend to his wounds as you daydream about what you could do with the extra money.
~~~~~
	Be Madari. You were getting close now. Every day you covered twice what the interloper had covered. There was no chance that they could escape you. But… there was a complication. You were beginning to suspect that the prey you chased was not a “her” at all. Be it instinct or the enhanced scent that the Gift brought, you were growing more and more sure that you were chasing a man. The others could sense it too. Through out the few days you had been on the move, there had been less and less chatter. Now even at camp there was little conversation. Every amazon was hoping that they were the only one to notice the clues, but knowing that the others knew as well. This was troubling. If the male really was a magician, there was bound to be infighting in the group over who would claim him. But you were beginning to have doubts about his magical talent as well. If he truly could channel the will of his ancestors, why was he still walking around in the jungle? Why was he growing weaker and slower when he could be using magic to collect food and water? Sleeping in dirt rather than conjuring shelter? So many unanswered questions.

“Ara, finally come crawling back hmm? Come here and I’ll take care of…”

Lost in thought, you find yourself face to face with a very surprised alraune. Her eyes grow wide in shock as the rest of your party surrounds the helpless plant-girl.

“You’ll do what?” you ask in a commanding tone.

The flower-girl shrinks back into her flower, looking at the ground and cowering beneath you.

“N-no, I… I uh just thought you were… someone else…” said the alraune.

You close in on her, forcing her to crane her neck back to meet your eyes.

“And just who, pray tell, were you expecting to see out here in the middle of these woods?”

“Oh! N-no one really, just uh… the… the bees! You know, they love… nectar…”

The alraune trails off as you glare down at her. Grabbing her by the throat, you wrench her up, pulling her body out of the flower up to the waist. Bringing her face inches from your own, you unsheathe your knife and hold it against her cheek.

“DO NOT TOY WITH ME, WEED. I know that a man passed through here not long ago. Tell me or I will have my warriors dig you up and rip your petals off!”

The alraune began to wail and sob.

“Plea-ea-eas! Please don’t kill me! There was a man who came through here but he left and I don’t know where he went so I thought he might come back and I was so lonely and-“

“SHUT UP!” You cut off her blubbering with a shake. She began to whimper and cry, desperately holding her eyes shut and her head turned away from you.

“How long ago was he here?” you ask in a more calm tone.

“A-about two days ago.” she sputtered through hiccupping breaths.

“What did he look like, was he a sorcerer?”

“I didn’t get a good look at him. He screamed and ran off as soon as I said hello. He didn’t look like what I’d imagine most humans look like… I don’t think he was a mage, he didn’t seem to be capable of using magic.” she said.

You release the poor plant and let her retreat into her flower.
two days… that meant that you were probably only a day, maybe less, away from this poor bastard. He was moving more and more slowly with each passing day, covering less and less ground. It wouldn’t be long now. With a whistle and a wave, your troop is on the move again.