Illegal Alien in a MMO World

It was an easy stroll through the woods…

Not.

I had begun to regret our decision to avoid the roads somewhere between the fourth hill, second marshy stream-bank and fifth overground deer-trail that had us pushing our way through brush and briar patches. I didn’t have all that much experience with forests and wild places outside of CORA, navigating through city streets and concrete ruins was more my thing, but I was starting to understand that while roads might not be the straightest route as the drone flies, they were definitely the path of least resistance.

To avoid running into anyone or being spotted from a distance, Gael had us traveling through some of the thickest sections of forest no matter how thick and overgrown the underbrush was or how steep the inclines were going up or down. That wasn’t even mentioning all the tree roots we’d tripped over or branches that had snarred and caught or cloaks, backs or hair.

And when she couldn’t take us through forest she had us weaving between naked hills, avoiding creating silhouettes by marching through the little valleys between them. Which as often as not involved walking down the middle of rocky streams or navigating a path through marshy ground while trying not to leave tracks or lose our boots in the mud’s sucking resistance. 

At least with the streams and marshes, Gael and I could make use of our lighter builds and tail aided balance to jump from dry patch to dry patch using rocks and half rotten logs as stepping stones. Roxi had no such luck. She’d had to adapt how she stepped in the marshy areas testing the ground ahead of her with the toes of her boots before each step, after having had her boots sink down into the mud up to ankles for the fifth time.

As arduous as our cross country hike was I’d realised my raised Endurance stats had to be doing something, because as hard and exhausting as it was I wasn’t nearly as exhausted as I would have been if we’d done this hike right after leaving Spot. I was managing to just about keep up with Roxi, despite her longer legs and amazonian build. Even if I was cheating a little with the [Unencumber] enchantment lightening my pack.

Our guide had kept an even pace the entire time and was showing little to no signs of exertion, stopping occasionally only to check how we were surviving and to make sure we drank from our waterskins. Even though the hike was barely taxing her to the same extent as us, she hadn’t criticised Roxi and I’s pace or endurance, two hours into the hike I’d even come to grudgingly admire how she had managed to pick a consistent pace that was pushing us to our limits without going over them. 

I did however suspect that she wanted to go faster, watching her from behind. Every few minutes her tail would unconsciously flick with what I interpreted as impatient irritation.

As exhausted and absolutely done with hiking as I was, I was making sure to keep my complaints and whining to myself, especially making sure not to verbalise them aloud knowing she was going slower for our sakes. That and I am sure she would tell me off for potentially giving away our position.

As if the loud snaps of twigs breaking under Roxi’s feet weren’t already potentially doing that.

Instead I tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Left foot, right foot, breath in deep. Left foot, right foot, breath out. Take a sip from my water skin. Left foot, right foot, breath in again. Left foot, right foot, breath out. Repeat.

Faint voices could be heard through the underbrush, not all that far off to our right. Listening in I could tell they were refugees from their conversation, we weren’t alone in avoiding the roads.

 Pushing on, we started to encounter the sounds and voices of more refugees in the forest around some heading in roughly the same direction as us,some towards where we came from and others who seemed to be stationary. Gael’s preference for the thickest sections of forest and underbrush seemed to be paying off as despite being able to hear others, the brush was too thick to see or be seen.

Not that that stopped Gael diverting us away each time increasing our distance while passing and circumventing our fellow travelers.

The paranoid puss in boots even had us double back at one point to make sure one of the groups we’d heard traveling in the same direction as us weren't following us.

* * *

The sun was setting and we’d been marching nearly five hours in silence and I was on the verge of losing my battle with boredom and exhaustion, and breaking out in ‘are we there yet?’s. Which would likely result in Gael gagging me before having us continue walking, possibly setting Roxi off into laughter too resulting in a similar fate and our position being given away completely.

Fortunately we were spared that outcome just in time, as a light breeze carrying the smell of smoke and the low murmur of voices from on ahead reached us. Tail and ears suddenly at attention, Gael halted in front of us before dropping into a crouch and motioning for us to follow her example.

Our long boring march was over, the time had come for the excitement of sneaking forward in an uncomfortable crouch with branches poking and whipping us in the faces. A whole ten or so minutes of it covering a distance we could have walked in a quarter of that time if we weren’t sneaking crouched. Ok I know I’m being a sarcastic snarky brat in my head and I absolutely understand the wisdom of our guide’s caution after our run-ins with the bandits, Basiphusii and traitors at Fort Brightspring.

But I’m tired, bored and hungry!

The closer we had gotten to what was up ahead the stronger the smells of cooking had started to stand out amongst the smell of smoke on the wind.

“Fuck…” Gael whispered from in front of me as she peeked out from the brush hiding us into a not-quite clearing. “Turns out we’re not the only ones who thought of camping in the forest ruins,” she said in a low voice to us over her shoulder.

“Looks like more refugees. Soldiers too, but only a few and they're not wearing the colours or heraldry of any factions I recognise. This many people is just asking for things to go to shit,” she hissed, seemingly whispering more to herself quietly fretting than to us. 

Slightly paranoid maybe, not that I disagreed with her. There was a reason I’d lived on my own on the very edge of the city. More people just increased your odds of being robbed, stabbed or rounded up under suspicion of being a dissident cell. 

In situations of violence and unrest, paranoia was survival and the law of the land.

“But…” she started, looking back in the direction of the village ruins. “But fuck…  There’s nowhere else nearby we can reach with the sun setting that has fresh water and would be a safe place to camp. We’re just going to have to chance it and fuck the consequences.”

“Shit,” I muttered in agreement under my breath, as the Silver Mercenary stood and stepped out of the brush.