Downtown Druid

As Dantes rose up, clinging desperately to the first branch the Mother’s Reach had sprouted he realized very quickly that it was starting to widen. He threw himself up so that he could switch to standing on it, but was soon forced to dodge as two more branches began to sprout nearby and nearly hit him, he crouched down and found himself being thrust further and further from the trunk as the branch widened and expanded. He was forced into a completely reactionary posture. Dodging new branches, jumping to different branches, and climbing up and down as needed all to stay near the top of the tree as it rapidly grew toward the exit to the Pit.

He was vaguely aware of motion both above and below him as he struggled to stay well positioned on the tree. The guards were doing their best to react to the sudden and unforeseen sprouting of a tree in the center of the Maw, and dozens of prisoners were all doing their best to follow Dantes’ lead and find hand and footfalls that would allow them to ride and climb to the top in order to escape. They were having much less luck than Dantes, who was an accomplished climber long before he’d fallen into the pit, and had been practicing it rigorously for months. They fell, or were punctured by swiftly growing branches, or grabbed a branch and held on for dear life, but clearly had no idea what to do or where to go from there.

Dantes spared a thought for the Shadow Cats, who he could no longer see and didn’t dare splitting his focus among nearby rats and roaches to try and find them. He also wondered after Wane, but he was a cautious sort, and while he may decide to attempt an escape, Dantes doubted he’d be one of the first to make the climb.

The branch Dantes was on seemed to be stabilizing as the top of the tree neared the lip of the Maw. Dantes began running toward the edge of the branch, hoping to time his jump exactly at the moment it crested the opening. He was off slightly, and when he leapt he was a full ten feet above the edge of the maw. He looked down to see a grizzled guard staring wide eyed, holding a spear that he hadn’t thought to raise.

Dantes aimed his knees and could feel the man's collarbone shatter as he hit him and knocked him to the ground before rolling off of him.

“Watch out below, fucker.” Dantes couldn’t resist the comment, remembering how many prisoners he’d seen flattened by the sacks and crates that the guards purposefully aimed at prisoners as they threw them.

There were two more guards in the way, and rather than engage them, he moved to run between them. They were so overwhelmed by the tree that had begun to grow, and Dantes’ appearance that they weren’t able to react before he had passed them by completely, dashing into the cover of ruined buildings that spread out from the Maw since the Underprison had been formed.

There were no major defenses at the Maw itself. After all, the several hundred feet sheer and smooth walls all the way down were all that was needed to ensure that prisoners couldn’t escape, particularly after the Academy had expended some of its enormous resources to seal all potential exits and entrances with magic aside from the Maw itself. The guard presence there was primarily to send supplies into the Maw, and maintain the large jail that acted as a holding facility for prisoners until the monthly drops. Outside of the maw was more than a mile of ruins that had once been occupied before the entrance to the Underprison had first been found when the maw had opened as a sinkhole, killing hundreds. After that, and it being turned into a prison, no resident would stand to live there, so the city had a ten foot wall built around it, and ignored it.

Dantes didn’t stop running once he hit the ruins, instead pushing himself down alleys, up and over buildings, and through broken cobblestone streets. He estimated he was about halfway to the outer wall when he paused for a break. Running a straight mile would’ve been simple, but with the way the ruins were he was having to jump, climb, and crawl all throughout, and it was slowly exhausting him. Considering he’d started the day with his usual workout, then slaughtered dozens of orcs, then fought their leader, then climbed a Mother’s reach as it grew, then began moving through the ruins… the exhaustion made sense.

He pulled his waterskin from the small bag he’d packed and drank deeply from it, looking up. It was late afternoon, and the sun was high in the sky. The sky, something he’d see once a month, he smiled.

Jacopo crawled out from his jacket, sniffing. “The air smells different up here.”

Dantes took a big breath. The air tasted fresh, at least compared to the Underprison. He cupped a hand and poured some water into it, letting Jacopo crawl down his arm to have a drink. He looked back in the direction he’d been running from, and swallowed.

The tree was still growing. He could see it easily, even above the ruined buildings behind him, rising higher and higher. He may have underestimated the Mother’s Reach’s size. He maybe should’ve asked Clay for the second or third largest tree. He’d only ever seen trees in the small gardens and parks scattered throughout the city, or occasionally in the dilapidated overgrown quarters that had been left behind for some reason or another. At the rate it was growing, the tree may even rival the spires of the academy.

Jacopo tensed up, and Dantes felt anxiety radiating from him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Predators.”

Dantes started to reach out his senses, but before he detected anything that way, he heard a familiar barking.

“Shit, the guard must’ve managed to muster their people from the outside. Those are scent-hounds.”

Dantes pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against. His legs and arms were on fire, but he couldn’t afford to be caught at this point.

Jacopo crawled back into his jacket as he moved, finding a secure inner pocket of his jacket to burrow into.

Dantes’ hustled over a collapsed roof, through what seemed to have been a noble’s house at some point, and dove through the remains of a window. The barking of the dogs would get louder, then quieter, then loud again as they lost and found his scent, and eventually they were close enough that he could even hear the guards. When the wall came into view, he realized that the dogs and their masters had somehow gotten both in front of, and behind him.

He clenched his jaw, taking cover between two walls that were barely standing. He’d come so damned far and was too close to be caught again. He checked his rat and roach marks. They had a bit of juice left since his attack on the orcs, but not enough that he could just throw waves of vermin at his pursuers. He felt a pure crimson rage well up within him as he heard a dog approach not more than a block from where he sat crouched.

Instinctually, as it had been with the awakening of all of his abilities, he reached out to all of the dogs, pouring the rage he felt into them, the rage at the thought of being captured, at Tel’s death, at his old gang, and a bit leftover from his dad.

The dog’s barking didn’t stop, but instead became louder, angrier, and punctuated by fierce growling.

Dantes could hear one of the guards curse. “-Hells is wrong with you lot!” there was a whip crack, “Get a hold of your, agh! Fuck!”

Through his connection to the dogs he could feel that they’d turned on their masters, and on one another, the rage he’d channeled into them turned them to a berserker rage.

He focused on slipping between them while they were tearing into each other. He knew that while he’d brought on the state they were in, he had no control over them. He’d be as much of a target as anything else if they saw him.

He left them behind and reached the wall. It was roughly ten feet high, but not built perfectly smooth. He braced himself for one last climb, his hands and feet finding holds easily as he pulled himself further up and over the wall. At the top of it, he could see a dirty alleyway filled with garbage and detritus, with rats scurrying to and fro. Abandoned buildings stretched for several more blocks, but he could hear the echoes of angry men and women cursing at one another for the slightest offenses. The air smelled just a bit rancid, and in the distance he saw skinny pigeons and crows defecating from the roofs of buildings. He swung his leg over the wall, and landed with his feet on old concrete. He was home.