I pulled up my minimap and saw that I was west of the city. Apparently I had to be conscious for the map to fill in, because there was a large swatch of blank area between our current location and the city. I could tell we had not travelled very far by comparing our current distance from the city to my previously explored path to the north of the city. The map showed three others outside of the cart, likely the elven man and his two companions, as well as the person locked in the cage next to mine. The cart was being pulled by a pair of beasts, but the map did not provide more descriptions beyond that.

  I shifted around again, managing to wedge myself into a semi-vertical position with my head turned uncomfortably to the side. I was able to get a better look at my fellow captive.

  His nameplate color told me he was a player and not an NPC. His name was Abernathy. He was that small kangaroo-looking beastkin I had seen in the Adventurer's Guild crafting area after my class exam.

  He was short, maybe three or four feet tall standing, it was hard to tell in the cramped confines, but he definitely had more space in the cage than I did. His eyelids fluttered as he began to regain consciousness.

  Abernathy sat up abruptly, his head banging off of one of the top bars with a loud crack. He fell back, unconscious once more. I heard laughter from the men outside. The sheer terror that flashed through Abernathy’s eyes in the half a second of consciousness he had experienced before knocking himself out filled me with anger.

  These horrible men, their attempts at child trafficking thwarted, had taken revenge on me, and for all I knew, the small, round man knocked out cold in the cage next to mine had done something to cross them, or had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  I focused on breathing in and out of my nose, calming myself and trying to clear my mind. Thinking was hard — probably from the blows I had taken to my head.

  I tried opening my inventory screen, and was pleased to see it could still be brought up mentally, the same as the minimap. I looked over my meager belongings for something that could help. I had a knife, but it was covered in webbing. It was the only thing I saw in my inventory that might be of some use, so I withdrew it from my inventory with a thought.

  The dagger materialized in my left hand, bound behind my back. I tried to angle it to cut the cords, but the webbing got stuck to my bindings and then to the floor of the cages. My attempt at escape had bound me further, and to make matters worse, I was now unable to pull the dagger back into my inventory. I shifted and tugged, trying to pull it loose, but the awkward angle caused sharp pain in both of my shoulders.

  I gritted my teeth and pulled anyway, desperation bypassing caution. I felt something tear in my right shoulder. The pain was sharp and searing. I was pretty sure I had torn a muscle. The motion was enough to pull me free from the adhesive knife, but with no more space in the cage I fell back after a second, and found myself in the same position I had been, only now with a burning pain in my shoulder.

  I grunted and cried out, muffled sobs escaping the gag. Abernathy shifted and stirred again. A large bump had risen on his forehead where he had hit the cage. His hands had also been bound, and he had also been fitted with what looked like leather mittens. I assumed it was to protect the bindings from the sharp claws that adorned the end of most beastkins’ fingers. He was also gagged, and looked around with wide eyes. We made eye contact, and I did everything I could to pour confidence and friendliness into my eyes. I nodded to him.

  He started to scream and flail. His screams were muffled by the gag, but still seemed louder than I would have thought possible. The cart stopped again, and the elven man returned to the flap at the rear of the cart.

  “Be quiet!” he hissed through clenched teeth, “Stop that screaming, unless you want me to silence you forever. Don’t test me, rat boy.”

  The screams transitioned into quiet sobs. Abernathy looked around the small cart before his tear-filled gaze once again locked on to me. I looked into his eyes for several seconds before nodding, trying to project confidence again. I exaggerated the motions of my breathing. He matched my motions, taking in deep, calming breaths.

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  We spent several minutes breathing like this as the cart started moving. I saw Abernathy calming, his resolve strengthening as we both focused on breathing. He was still terrified, his eyes large and wet, but it was a terror he could at least attempt to control. He looked around the cart again, this time taking in the surroundings.

  Abernathy’s gaze lost focus for a second, then he started moving his arms. They separated, and I saw a small knife awkwardly held in one mitt. He removed the mitts and quickly sawed through the leather bonds at his ankles before removing his gag and looking at me. He made a cutting motion with the knife.

  I moved as quietly as possible, shifting myself around so that my back and bound arms were facing Abernathy. I felt a few tugs and my arms were free. He placed the knife in my hand. I felt a familiar haptic buzz at our contact as a notification appeared and minimized. I cut the bonds at my ankles with difficulty; I felt like a contortionist that had never stretched as I shifted my body around in the too-small cage, then removed my own gag.

  I lay on my side facing Abernathy, my knees pulled up to my chest. I was able to reach through the bars up to my forearm. I reached through, holding the knife handle out for him to grab. His smaller arms could fit all the way through the bars, and he took his knife, returning it to his inventory. I held my hand out to initiate a shake. We shook.

  Abernathy added to your player contact list.

  I immediately pulled up my message system and sent him a message.

  Chanter: We should communicate like this so they don’t hear us.

  Abernathy looked down in surprise, likely seeing the message notification for the first time. His eyes lit up and he smiled. His eyes lost focus and jumped around before I was assaulted with a wall of text.

  Abernathy: I didn’t know we could talk like this. You're the first other player I have seen since starting… I saw some guys follow you in to an alley. I was going to try to warn you, but I am not good at being sneaky. They heard me and… well… I woke up here. Do you know these men? Where are they taking us? What is happening? My prospective mentor is expecting me to bring him ingredients to make my mentorship official.

  Abernathy: Oops, sorry. I didnt realize I needed to send it. Sorry, that was a lot.

  Chanter: Its alright, no worries. Yes I know them, at least one of them. Was one a weasel beastkin?

  Abernathy: Yes, and an angry looking elf. He is the one that saw me and pointed, sending his goons after me.

  Chanter: I am so sorry you got caught up in this. I helped a girl escape that they had kidnapped and they must have been following me since.

  Abernathy: It could be worse! I could be dead in that alley. What should we do?

  I touched the web-covered knife, sending it back into my inventory as I thought. The cart continued to bounce along the western road leading from the village, which must have been much rougher than the northern road, considering how often we were bounced around.

  Chanter: I have some new friends, but they all had plans this morning. I am sure they would help if we need them to, but if we can solve this together that would be better. Do you have any tools or equipment available that could help us? I am a bardic class but my lute is broken and even if it wasnt, it isnt exactly conducive to being sneaky.

  Abernathy: Yes I have all kinds of odds and ends, my class is more artisanal. I am a Tinkering Alchemist. I have a few alchemical supplies but those wont do much good… let me see if I can mix anything up.

  He looked lost in thought for several seconds. I spent the time messaging in the group chat I had with my friends from the night before. They all offered to drop what they had going on to help.

  It was very touching, and I counted myself lucky to have met such kind people, but I told them to keep with their own plans for now. I had a good feeling about Abernathy. I promised to keep them in the loop as Abernathy formed a small ball of clay-like material in his hand.

  Abernathy: I was able to create this, it is an explosive clay. Maybe we can use it to destroy the locks then run away?

  The ball of clay was roughly the size of a marble.

  Chanter: How much of that can you make? My class enhances explosions!

  Abernathy: A bard class that enhances explosions?

  Chanter: Yeah I think it had something to do with me weaponizing a magic wand into a spell grenade of sorts accidentally during my class selection exam. Its a long story.

  Abernathy: I can make about four times this amount.

  Chanter: Can I see it?

  Abernathy handed the small ball of clay to me and I identified it.

  Combustive Clay. Crafted Item.

  This is an explosive substance that can be stuck to most surfaces. Creates a localized explosion aimed at the object it is affixed to. Discovered by Abernathy. Your Bombastic Busker explosives enhancement works on this item.

  Chanter: This is perfect, how do you detonate it?