My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 94 An Escape Plan Forms

Eleanor spent the next couple hours after eating trying to rest and ignore her pain, but it seemed unwilling to give her a moment's rest. Eventually she gave up, and opened her eyes. Her surroundings were still the same. Same blank walls, same bare dirt floor, same chain bound to same post bound around her neck.

But there was something different. They'd left something behind. They'd forgotten to stay and take the bowl and spoon back, and it sat there, right next to there, with a small amount of broth and a few small pieces of food left inside.

She now had something to work with.

A tiny thrill of hope shot through her. She didn't know if she could do anything with it, or if it even changed anything, but the every fact that she had even the possibility of finding another option besides captivity and suffering was enough to s.h.i.+ft her perspective.

She was a cla.s.sically trained caster. She usually relied on her spellbooks to remind her of the motions, incantations, and components it took to generate a particular effect, but she didn't NEED them. Her magic was just as in-born as any sorcerers, and she'd been a good student. Maybe she could improvise a spell or two just by trying to piece together the fragments she could remember from all the spells she'd learned and cast over the years and sc.r.a.ping together whatever components she could get her hands on.

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Looking at what she had available, she had wood from the bowl, a metal spoon, cooked meat, oil in the broth, and some kind of boiled leaf that she didn't recognize. She also had the dirt beneath her, and now that she had something to dig with, she could also probably get some stones as well.

That was a start, at least. There was enough here that she could come up with SOMETHING, at least.

Looking around further, she saw a small, thumbnail sized tuft of fur sitting in the dirt a short distance past her feet. Her eyes widened. She couldn't believe her luck.

She sat up and gingerly s.h.i.+fted her position, trying to reach it from a couple different angles, but it was always just out of the reach of her hands. Finally, she managed to slide down until she was almost flat on her back, and trap the little tuft between her heel and the ground. With a bit of effort, she was able to drag it into reach, where she picked it up.

Her eyes weren't deceiving her. It was gnoll fur.

That changed things. She could probably remember the general formula for a trans.m.u.tation spell, and knew enough Infernal that she could probably stumble her way through the rest of what'd take to change her appearance. Now she had material from one of her captors as the component for what form to a.s.sume.

She had her way out, at least in theory. The problem was going to be getting out of the chain around her neck. And the fact that she currently couldn't walk.

The chain she could probably break any number of ways just with what she now had available. That would be the easy part.

Figuring out how to walk on a shattered leg, or at the very least heal it enough to make it usable again... that was going to be much trickier. She knew Restoration magic better than any other school, but it was also much more technical, and had much greater restrictions on the accuracy of its formulae and component uses.

The reason for this, of course, was simple- If you mis-p.r.o.nounced a word, or used a wrong gesture, you could accidentally remove an artery instead of mending it. And you had to have the exact materials needed for the spell, or else it wouldn't work at all.

She would need a piece of bone. And a feather.