Born a Monster

Chapter 26

Welcome Back

After eleven days in the field, we were expecting eleven tin pieces, minus our respective contract rates.

Well, they took that. First.

Five days of dried foodstuffs turned out to cost five tin pieces for each of us. Okay.

The big trouble was when we turned in our gear. We had cleaned it first, of course. But as we tried turning them in, each item had dings and dents and the seams in our backpacks were coming loose.

.....

Incidentally, don’t attempt blacksmith repairs untrained, and the muscle memories you build up for leather and cloth are NOT interchangeable.

Tangars assessed seven tin pieces of damage total. In the end, Kismet earned three tin pieces, and I had actually increased by debt by three.

Where we made out like child bandits was the herbs we had collected. It turns out that graveyard herbs are quite rare, and even uninfused they were worth quite a bit. Kismet made six coppers, and I collected three coppers, some common herbs, a used mortar and pestle, a tin kettle, and an empty potion bottle.

Well, you can guess what that led to. After four hours of preparation, simmering, and stirring, we got an inedible mess with no magical function.

“Well, at least we tried.” Kismet said.

“Yeah, it only works one try in four.”

“If only we had a specialty classed Manservant to clean the pot.”

Ugh. She did have a point, though.

Kismet discovered the System had something called a coin pouch, and when I looked mine had one, too. We fell asleep that night convinced of our riches, and sleeping soundly.

There was no work the day after, so we went about to buy fabric patches, sewing repair kits, and good sturdy thread. She taught me letters while I repaired our clothes. I was surprised how many little things there were to repair, we had thought we were being careful.

Cosimo, personal errand boy to Reynald, found us. “Your services are requested. NO, not both of you, just him.”

“Don’t leave me.” She whispered.

“I’ll be back.” We squeezed hands, but her FEAR was palpable.

“You should get used to not being around her. This is a guild, not a daycare.”

“Yes, Master Cosimo.” Technically, he was just Cosimo, but he never corrected me.

There were two of them, clad in colored wools. Their curly, wild-looking beards had been recently cleaned and trimmed, but individual hairs were already asserting their freedom. Their eyes held only stupidity and greed.

“I am Sethan, and this is my brother Borus. We are hiring you both as a linkboy and as a translator of the goblin language. You are thus being paid only the higher wage, one copper per night of labor. There are a total of six of us, and we mean to be done tonight.”

To Reynald, he said “We mean to leave at once.”

“As you’ve not done business with the Guild before, there are other things to be arranged first. But before I dismiss him, he is an acceptable translator?”

With a nod and a hand wave, I was dismissed.

“If you’ve any personal possessions, gather them and wait in that room there.”

Well, I had nothing to gather, but did have to tell Kismet to see if she could sleep in Lorraine’s room tonight.

While they argued coinage, I set my System to not consume the six Sanity and Serenity that not sleeping the night would cost me.

Some of the knick-knacks had copper plates or framed glass, protecting a message about whom the trinket represented. I was counting the letters I recognized, and hoped to soon be able to interpret words.

Then it was time to go.

#

“Where’s your torch?” asked Borus.

“The customer provides the torches, sir.”

“For a copper, the Guild should throw in a torch or two.”

“I have a torch.” Sethan said.

My attempt to use Ignition failed, consuming double the amount of mana a success would. At least it didn’t burn me, or worse, them. There was much cursing in the dark outside the Guild hall before they struck a spark to light it.

They made straight for the south gate, and were not bothered by the guards they passed. Outside the gate were four seedy-looking individuals in linen robes, carrying assorted knives and clubs.

“You speak goblin?” one of them asked in goblin.

“I speak goblin.” I said.

“How well?”

“I lived among goblins for a number of weeks.”

He nodded, and said something in Latvian, the local shepherd’s dialect.

Sethan replied in that language, and led the way into the eastern hills.

Black Snake flashed me CONCERN. I was already there, but tried not to feed her anxiety.

We swapped out torches twice before we were at the cave. The moon was already descending toward the horizon.

“Let them know we are here.” Borus said.

“I smell no goblins here-”

Borus backhanded me, knocking me off my feet. “Now.”

I dutifully called out in my loudest voice, “The brothers Sethan and Borus send greetings, and wish to speak with you.”

They discussed amongst themselves when there was no reply. It was decided we would go into the cave, calling out at regular intervals.

At first, they discussed in whispers, and then in unguarded tones. By the time we reached the charnel cavern, they were shouting.

The scent of rotted flesh and long congealed blood was overpowering. I was certain they had smelled it as well.

There were bones, already broken open and sucked dry of marrow.

“Again.” Borus said.

This time, there was movement beyond the torchlight. Sluggish, sticky sounding, but movement.

Some words came to us, but they were not goblin words.

“Back. Out. Slowly.” Sethan said.

There came a yawn, followed by the inquiry, louder this time.

“Remain calm.” In spite of Sethan’s warning, I could hear as one of the people behind me ran.

The rest fled when the Morlock clambered into the light. (I would learn later what to call it.) It had features of man and ghoul, but was clearly neither. It had the albino white coloration that one finds in cave ecologies.

One arm was raised to protect its eyes from the torchlight.

“Terribly sorry.” I said in goblin, fleeing after my companions.

It roared after us, but did not pursue.

#

The wounds were one twisted ankle and an abraded shin, and they argued right there at the mouth of the cave.

I stood about six feet from where they pointed me to be, making sure they were closer to the cave than I was.

Then they formed up in three rows of two, and prepared to head back in.

“Sethan, Borus, you seem to be antagonizing that thing.”

“We mean to kill it.” Borus said, confidently.

Well... I mean they had paid me to carry a torch, and paid quite generously.

So they shuffled and stomped back into darkness. Olomos, the man who had fled first, walked beside Borus. Then me, with my torch. Sethan walked behind me and to my left, with another human to his side. The final row was a good five paces behind the rest of us.

Borus yelled out his name-challenge as we returned to the cavern.

“I hear two of them, brother.” Sethan said, entering the cavern.

Borus turned to goad the final two in Latvian, and that was when the first struck.

Borus was able to put his arm between the morlock’s teeth and his throat. Not being a party member, I couldn’t see his health drop, but it looked quite severe.

Borus struck it on the shoulder with his club as it retreated back into darkness.

The man next to Sethan dodged a swipe at his protruding gut, but didn’t recover his balance in time to attack.

.....

It went on like that for half a minute before they realized there were more than two morlocks in that cavern. One of them had tripped, and two morlocks had grabbed his legs and pulled him into darkness.

His screams were brief, then faint, and then no more.

Olomos turned to run, and blocked Borus’ club with his own head. The morlock who had been advancing became entangled with him as he fell.

Sethan was shouting by that time. He may have been urging an orderly fall back, but it became a rout.

Sethan had to grab Borus to get him out of the cave. He shoved me to the side as they passed me.

Behind us were the messy sounds of eating.

Here’s a hard fact for you – one in three novice adventuring groups do the same, blundering about in the unknown and learning by failure where the limits of their combat abilities are.

Wounds were more substantial this time, and they did the best they could with comfrey leaves and linen bandages. Borus raised his club to hit me when I attempted to aid them, which I took to mean that I should stay with the jobs I had been recruited for.

There was a longer argument there at the cave mouth, ending in a fistfight between Borus and one of the others. The group broke apart at that point, some angry, some crying, Olomos pronouncing a curse at Borus, and turning his head to spit to add strength to it.

Borus cursed him back, and also spit.

“You. Just go.” Sethan said, as though the whole incident had been my fault.

#

I am told they came back a day after I did, to collect fees for services not rendered.

Having my sworn statement already recorded, Reynald held to his shield line. He hadn’t gotten to his position by letting the customer get more than they paid for.

Borus cursed loudly enough to be heard in the kitchens.

Well, I tried to look at it from their point of view. They had paid the guild, and had lost friends and relatives.

I honestly tried. But if I, barely a yearling knew not to do these things, what reason could they possibly have for thinking otherwise?

In the end, the Guild had no reasonable offer to clear out those morlocks; so far as I know they live under that hill to this day.

Between job offers, Kismet and I got a valet contract to roll around a barrel with heated sand and chainmail. It was normally given to two valets, but I vouched for her ability to do the work.

We went to bed that night with sore muscles and the satisfaction of a job well done. We’d put extra fatigue into the task, and had been awarded a hard candy each for our efforts.

Honestly, I was making it a task for Physical Training Regimen, and Kismet was just trying to keep up.

“Why do you do that?” she asked.

“If we’re rolling around the barrel anyway, why not get XP for it?”

“Not that. That makes sense. Why are you trying for this Polymath thing?”

“It’s a goal, something I do to remain sane while trying to earn back the twenty gold the Guild paid for me.”

“Twenty GOLD?” She’d taken the bait.

“That’s what I was sold for. Price to get those premium heroes from the graveyard to attack the goblins down near Seacrest.”

“Wow. With the right skills, Rhishi, we can make gold.”

“Yeah, and that requires a lot of skills and abilities, which means a lot of experience and development points.”

“Not that many if your divisor was lower.”

That was true, she was easily earning four times the XP I was. Most of her cultivation methods were already rank two or three. She was already over halfway to earning Maidservant, a task that had taken me the bulk of three months.

I shook my head. “I’m sure. I want that Path of the Polymath achievement. I don’t even know what the reward is, but I want it.”

“Well, is it okay if I don’t want it?”

“Sure. We’re still friends, right?”

“You’re not getting the cookie Madra gave me earlier.”

“Didn’t know she had given you a cookie.” Madra was always doing nice things like that, though. Maybe it was a cultivation method in her System?

“We should ask her to teach us to bake them.” Kismet decided.

#