I took another break when the bark began curving at less than a ninety degree angle. Climbing upside down was gonna be a pain, and I’d need to think this through. The bark was old and rough, with more than a few points where the edges peeled away at odd angles to the main mass.

I’d aim for those first. The flakey bark might provide a dangerously precarious perch, but it also provided the only points where I wouldn’t have to rely on swinging hand over hand. A risky tradeoff, but I’d at least check it out before I discounted it.

Working my way over to the flakey bark was a task in itself, however. I clambered along as best I could, hooking my toe claws into the bark to maintain a foot hold as long as possible, but eventually I had to admit defeat. The surface was only getting more steeply slanted, and my feet were going to swing free eventually. Stubbornly clinging for as long as possible would only guarantee that when I did slip up, it would come as a surprise.

And if there was one thing to avoid at all costs in climbing, it was sudden and unexpected changes in your center of gravity.

That and falling to death, but one had a tendency to cause the other.

Still, the transition was far from comfortable on either a physical or a psychological level. Letting go just felt wrong, and I had to let my legs swing out gradually. Like a slow-motion pull up, it was far harder to go slow than just getting it over with quickly.

Progress only got harder after that. The gnarled bark provided plenty of handholds, even for single hands alone, but that just couldn’t compensate for the protection of redundancy. Even if a losing grip was less likely, the costs of doing so were far higher.

Instant doom.

But with all the risks of the world was that any different from normal? Weren’t we all but one brush from death? No reason to fear the fall now when it had always been looming before.

The comfort of nihilism eased my hitched breathing, giving me the strength to let go and swing on, but it was ultimately a shallow comfort. Existential dread could only do so much to smother out more immediate fears, and all the navel-gazing in the world couldn’t make me truly believe dangling above the abyss was no different than a morning’s stroll.

But it had made me take that first swing, and that was enough. I ‘d caught hold of a more distant gnarl of bark and the first step was always the hardest.

Unless someone stabbed you in the foot. Or you got tired. But that was overthinking the proverb a bit, and it was really meant to refer to the mental level anyway.

It still held true there. With the first swing taken it was easier to let go. I flinched as I lurched downward only to be swung back up by the tenuous of a single white-knuckled hand. I snatched up another handhold on the upswing, using its momentum to reach a bit further.

I swallowed. Maybe it was better not to try that trick again. Sudden lurches were never good for stable handholds…

I struggled for gentle motion on my next swing, and got it at the cost of less progress. Slow but steady. I could take that. At this rate it would take a good fifteen minutes before I approached the first possible resting place, but my increasingly tough and durable body should be capable of holding out for far longer.

The potential rest spot in question wasn’t particularly reputable as far as sleeping spots go, but I wasn’t a particularly reputable person. A cracked section of bark revealed a dark crevice in its surface, leading stars know where.

Hopefully nowhere. Unless the magic of this place stepped in once again and something fucked up happened it should be nothing more than a little nook sandwiched between the tree and its damaged bark.

A closer approach didn’t reveal any obvious glowing portals or gaping teeth, so I reluctantly reached out and laid one hand inside, fully ready to not only snatch it back out again, but flee at full speed, secure handholds be damned.

But, miraculously, the crevice failed to snap down on my intruding hand like a prodded beartrap. Indeed, as I used my new leverage to lift up my head and peer inside, it looked remarkably like exactly what I had expected.

I tugged on it tentatively, but it was rock solid. Not so much as a quiver. I pulled harder, transitioning weight from my other handhold, and when the bark failed to yield again I climbed in.

It became something of a struggle when my spear caught on the entrance, but I managed to work it around to stick in straight before I squeezed in after it.

The hollow wasn’t big. Hells, even I could feel the tree pressing when I took a particularly deep breath, but so long as it didn’t require me to support my entire body weight by the arms it was enough. I squinted through the darkness, but I still couldn’t make out the end.

Just knobbly bark stretching onward like a crevice that cracked clear through a mountain to the horrors beneath.

I shook off the thought. I had enough threats without making up my own.

That didn’t mean I’d decided to become stupid though. I maneuvered my spear to point straight ahead, just in case. I jammed the weapon in there good, blocking off the passage deeper.

With one last double-check to get both [Beggar’s Disregard] and [Rag Armor] running at low, sustainable levels, I yawned and let my nap begin.

Clack

My eyes shot open, and stayed dead still. What was that sound? I knew I’d heard it, but had I been awakened by a threatening reality or the fading remnants of a nightmare?

Clack

Closer. My body moved without need for conscious command to begin its shuffle backward. That sound had been not only undeniably real, but closer than the last. It was coming.

What it was I didn’t know. In my animal panic it didn’t even occur that there was a question to ask or an answer to be found, only death and the flight from it.

It took until the ground vanished from beneath my feet for some semblance of reason to return to me. Fuck, this wasn’t some forest crevice, and I’d not be able to simply book it once I was out.

I forced myself to slow, if only slightly, and grabbed handholds with each shuffle backwards. Soon my back half was dangling out above the green abyss and I had to start worrying about getting out safely.

I reached around and grabbed the underbark again, swinging myself out of my hidey-hole. The spear I’d put in between myself and the unknown followed, hanging from one hand via its sling.

I took a second swing backwards before pivoting to face back at the hole. I jerked my dangling spear up and caught it in my spare hand. I readied myself to stab the fuck out of whatever horror leapt out of that damn crevice. I was off to the side, so when it sprung forth I’d have a clear line at its side and guts.

A beetle-black head poked out of the hole and swung its glittering faceted eyes around to look at me.

“Aaaaaiiiiiiiieeee!” I screamed bravely, sending forth a rain of powerful blows.

The ant head stared with its impassive bug-eyes at the flurry of impotent jabs landing far short of its face. Wicked mandibles opened and snapped shut.

Clack

I snapped my spear back close to my chest. What if it’s jaws caught my spear and disarmed me of my precious weapon?!

The ant bent it’s head down far enough that it’s pair of antennae could bend forward and flop out of where they’d been stuck in the hole.

Clack

The ant snapped it’s jaws in my general direction again, waving it’s antennae furiously.

I blinked and began to recover from my post sleep stupor. The ant wasn’t following me, even though it could…

Clack

I waved my spear at the ant. “Yeah, yeah.”

I slipped my arm through my spear sling and backed off a little more. Ants weren’t mindless automatons. They were beasts, and at the end of the day, they just wanted to defend their territory.

So, I was fine. At least, I was now. Sleeping had become a much worse idea, however.

Well, I’d wondered where the crack had lead, and now I knew. An ant colony that I was even less interested in fucking with than the ordinary stinging bastards.

I sighed and got moving. If the ants really were that established in every nook and cranny there was no point in trying to catch any sleep here. It was looking like another nonstop trip.

But this was quickly proving to be a much more difficult task than the last. There was only so much weight that my arms were supposed to support, and it certainly wasn’t my entire body weight. For the first time I was actually starting to regret not taking a Strength Stat when I had the chance. I’d wanted to avoid the shortsighted brutishness of someone like Garrett, but ignoring the utility uses of increased Strength displayed that exact sort of ironic stupidity.

In the end though, the Stats I had chosen proved their worth. Agility and Dexterity insured my grip was solid even on awkward handholds and the combination of Constitution and Toughness held off the inevitable exhaustion long enough for me to near the end.

I was tired and ravenous by the time I’d cleared the waterfall enough to safely begin curving around the branch’s side. Climbing was hungry work, and I daren’t dangle from one hand for long enough to wolf down some food, so the first thing I did once I had my feet beneath me was reach for my food pouch.

I wasn’t even on even ground, just a greater than ninety degree angle, but that was good enough. Leaning into the bark and flexing my toe claws was enough to let me shovel a few handfuls of dried fruit and nuts down my gullet. While I had my hands free I took the opportunity to stow my spear properly. The entire climb it had been hanging from the crook of one elbow, and that just wasn’t a comfortable way to climb.

I shook one hand to wash out the tingling of restored blood flow and resumed the climb, reaching the top quickly. I kept my head down, peering over the edge. With most of my body still below the edge I had a good position, almost like lying with most of my body hidden beneath the crest of a hill.

Except I was lower than most of the branch instead of higher, giving anything more than a couple feet high the chance to look straight over my ‘concealment’...

I shook my head. There wasn’t anything more than a couple feet high anyway. The bark was hardly devoid of life, but that life was tragically anty. The barren plain of the branch top was little more than a highway for the damn bugs, with a thin procession stretched out across its center. Even all the way to the leaves, I could still see the same dark line.

It wasn’t hard to guess at what they were doing. The half streaming inward bore aloft proud cuts of leaves, bark, and the odd bit of disturbingly misshapen meat. They were feeding the colony, with the half streaming outwards presumably in search of such food themselves.

I frowned and squinted at the ant with the bloody meat. It was a pain to make out through the marching ants on either side, but by the time it vanished into the colony I’d caught enough glimpses to reconstruct what it probably looked like.

A severed humanoid arm.

Despite the obvious connotations, that was actually good news. What was left of its skin had been wrinkled and grey with rocky warts all across it. In other words, nearly exactly like a cave troll.

Again, not encouraging on the surface, but I happened to know cave trolls hated light. I could empathize. Cave trolls would never go anywhere in this cavern, the light of the false sun would burn at their eyes even in the shade.

If the ants were hunting cave trolls, then this branch had to lead out into the caves.

Caves full of trolls and ants strong enough to hunt them, but I was a lot smarter than either. I should be fine.

Fuck.