The journey led him away from the river, once again away from the rising sun. In the beginning, the prints were frequently lost amongst rocks, resulting in him backtracking many times. After cresting his second hill, he got a notification for a new skill.

Congratulations you have reached Tracking lvl. 6, bonus applied for reaching Beginner Rank.

A small notification appeared in the bottom left of his vision, quickly disappearing, and prompting a small diamond in the top right to begin flashing. Focusing on the diamond opened his skills and abilities panel, and at the bottom of the skills list was a new addition.

Tracking

Lvl. 6

(Beginner Rank 1)

Tracks are (6%) easier to notice and follow.

Closing the panel Daniel carried on following the footprints, an activity that felt slightly easier now, although the man didn’t know if that was just his imagination. Below him was a valley, a trail, scarred by claws, meandering slowly down the slope, into the dense thicket. Adjusting his walking stick, Daniel slowly began his descent.

A sense of foreboding pressed upon as he walked down the slope, a blanket slowly closing around him. It reminded him of when he first started to con. When he had been, well, encouraged, to visit the den of a notorious group of grifters. It was the only time he had visited the turf of others like him, and that sense of hostility that seeped from their gazes felt much like the hostility he felt here.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the sun felt darker, angrier, as he touched the floor of the valley. Reaching the edge of the forest, Daniel wiped the perspiration blooming from his palms, before letting the trees envelop him. Dark looming wood blocked his view of the forest beyond the path. Prickling rose up his spine, the eyes of hidden watchers. His old home was nothing like this place. There, he was just another part of the ecosystem. Here, the very air was malicious. Every fibre of his being screamed at him, telling him he was not welcome, that all who resided here wanted nothing more than his death. Pressure began to build in his head, inner voices urging him to leave. His back hunched and he began to move slower and slower, kicking clods of dirt with each heavy step. Just as he was giving into the voices, just as he readied to turn around and search for shelter far away. A barrier cracked. Something in his mind broke and the pressure disappeared, taking the voices with it. His back straightened and eyes sharpened, the cloud lifting. The previously malicious aura now seemed almost stale and weak, no more than cobwebs pressing down upon him, brushing them off , he once more, strode purposefully along the path, strong and sharp.

The forest was really quite beautiful. Now that the fear was gone, Daniel could appreciate the beauty of untouched nature. The wild, untamed vegetation overflowed from the earth, tumbling down wood and over rocks. WIthout the path, Daniel believed the forest would have been impenetrable to one of his size.

As he walked further into the woodland, more paths joined his, like tributaries to a river. Eventually, his own path joined an even larger path, curving perpendicular to his. It seemed he would shortly reach the home of the rat people.

The path continued to curve, other paths joining it, until, just before dusk, Daniel reached a particularly large oak. Here the path dipped downwards sharply, entering a basin. Crouching down next to the oak the man peered downwards, analysing the primitive settlement held within.

The ratmen had evidently built their home around the only large body of water nearby, as a small waterfall tumbled down a lip, splashing into a large pond below. Directly across from the waterfall, a stream carried water away from the village, down to the left of Daniel. The shores around the pond were a hive of activity.

In two broad arcs were a collection of nest-like huts, large boughs and sticks caked in mud and dried faeces, creating domed nests. Crude staves pointed outwards towards Daniel, effort clearly made to deter potential threats. Ratmen bustled to and fro, the entire place a hive of activity. Twisted things they were, hulking and misshapen, bones twisted unnaturally above powerfully muscular thighs, caked in shit and urine. Their upper bodies were surprisingly clean, short fur grew on most of their skin and the large tangled mess growing on their hunched backs relatively mud free. Yellowed teeth twitched under black noses and angry, red eyes. Stubby pink tails hung limply behind them, ends dangling just behind their knees. Curved ears swiveled atop their heads, twisting constantly. Smaller rats ran on all fours, their legs less twisted with longer tails dragging behind them, looking much more similar to their ancestors from Daniel’s memories. In all but size at least.

Large rats converged about the pond, stakes gripped above their heads and aimed at the water, all staring intently for signs of movement. Smaller specimens dragged the carcasses of all sorts of creatures back and forth from the banks of the pond or a pile of rotting carcasses, to a dark cubby behind the waterfall. Hulking specimens, lumbered around the area behind the crude palisade, heads lazily scanning for threats. Their heavy footfalls reminded Daniel of the freakishly muscular bodyguards hired by many of the gangs from his past. These rats seemed more bear than rat, and Daniel would have immediately called off his mission upon seeing them, if not for the fact that they numbered no more than half a dozen.

Even then, Daniel shrunk back into the shrubbery surrounding the oak, hiding himself as much as possible. Once he had hidden himself as much as he could without compromising his view, the man settled back to watch, to find a weakness to exploit, so that when the sun came up the next morning, he would have a weakness to exploit.

As dusk fell and the moon rose, the settlement became much more alive. The large ratmen began to leave the settlement, taking one of the four paths, armed with their crude spears and wearing bone necklaces. As a group passed him by in the bushes, Daniel activated Find Weakness

Evolved Ratman(Scout) Lvl. 12

Strengths: Agility, Intelligence, Perception

Weaknesses: Willpower, Strength, Dexterity

They were high leveled, very high leveled. This was the first time that the parentheses had provided information, and it meant that each of those sized rats were actually of different species or at different stages of evolution. The high level, and sheer number of creatures already ruled out a frontal assault. Daniels’s skillset was best suited to more underhanded tactics, which meant that the following day would be filled with cutting the throats of his sleeping prey.

There seemed to be a system that had been worked out by the clan of ratpeople. Small groups of Scouts would leave their settlement and search for food. Any prey they found would be brought back, carrion and fresh meat, where it would be taken to the mysterious hole behind the waterfall. Drones, or the little ones, seemed to primarily collect nuts and root vegetables scavenged from near the basin. Thankfully none roamed too near Daniel’s hiding place, as that would have compromised his entire operation. Even smaller shapes could occasionally be seen darting around the nests, children or yet another type of ratman.

Looking around Daniel looked for something to hide his scent in the morning. After all, those noses weren’t just for show. Finding nothing within arms reach, he waited for the nearby group of scouts to pass by into the basin before slowly inching deeper into the foliage. The noise was unbearably loud, the man winced with every movement he made, but thankfully none of the ratmen were near enough to notice anything odd with the rustling of the bushes. Moving to his left, he slowly made his way deeper, and before long the babbling of a brook could be heard. Reaching the moving stream, the man looked around, searching for anything that could be used to hide his unfamiliar smell from the rats. The only thing he found was mud. Frowning Daniel looked at the ground once more, for anything to hide his scent. Finding pine leaves, he rubbed them on his clothes, flakes of dried blood peeling from his hoodie. After about ten minutes of this, the man sighed, and stripped himself of all weapons, tools, and personal items. Keeping his clothes on, he took a quick breath, and rolled quickly into the mud around the water.

As the slimy texture invaded the skin along his back, Daniel grimaced in disgust. Wriggling and smearing, the man ensured that all of his skin and clothes were equally coated in the disgusting solution. Gagging, he spat a chunk of mud out of his mouth, heaving and retching at the taste.

Dragging himself up to his pile of belongings, the man had an absolutely brilliant idea. His major dilemma whilst watching the ratmen work, was finding a safe way to infiltrate their home. He didn’t want to take the paths, for fear of being spotted by a roving bear-rat, and climbing down through the foliage would probably instantly alert the entire camp. Now, however, he had access to the stream which was fed by the pond used for fishing by the rats. Whilst not very deep here, it looked to deepen drastically shortly before the pool, providing the perfect entrance point, and a way to potentially ambush some of the larger rats. Smiling to himself the man got to work.

It had been almost three hours since he arrived at the river, and the man sat in the mud, prepared and waiting for the sun to rise over the trees. His knife he had crudely waterproofed with mud and leaves, covering the metal of the blade copiously before wrapping it in some of the larger leaves from the nearby trees. His picks were wrapped tightly in his gloves, which he had stashed back in his frayed pockets.

The mud kept on drying, which led the man frequently reapplying coatings to his skin and the fabric of his clothes. Fear of infection or illness led to him leaving out the coating to his face again, waiting until the last possible moment to apply a mud mask. His hair had been slicked back with so much of the stuff that it felt as if he were almost wearing a helmet of dirt. Sitting against a bush, the man waited for the sun to rise.