Born a Monster

The net gave way the third time he meant to bash me against a wall, dropping me into the packed earth that served as a walkway.

“Now you owe me a new net!” he shrieked.

By the time he kicked at me, I was ready. In case I’ve forgotten to mention it, there are few things that Pankratios excels at. Turning your kick into a [Dislocated Ankle] and a leg hold?

Okay, that second involves Daurian combination abilities.

“A quick yank, and I dislocate your hip as well.” I warned him.

“Brothers!” he barked. “Help me kill this ...”

Dislocation of a hip is a loud sound, but not so loud as to drown out his howling.

Had they fallen upon me, all at once, right then...

.....

But they didn’t. As I was rising, one threw a spear at me.

“It bounced off!” he shrieked. “It bounced off! DEMON!” He was not the only one that turned and fled.

I put my foot upon the tip of that spear, partly to keep it from being used against me again, but mostly to hide the spatter of fresh blood. I had no delusions of what my odds were against just those visible on the street, let alone the entire campsite.

“You.” I said, pointing at the nearest Hyenadae. “Where are your leaders?”

“Uh.” he said, and started laughing.

Oh for the love of...

I bent and put the bloodied spear directly into my inventory.

One of them licked the tip of his nose and pointed. “Our leaders are that way, protected by warriors who will kill you.”

“Uh.” I said. “That building is still … gaudy.” The pause was not because I hesitated on the word, but because that was when one of them conked me on the back of my head.

I didn’t have to hit him back; in his haste to back away from me as I looked at him over the back of my shoulders, he slipped on some of my blood. The crowd exploded in laughter. <1 >

Maybe I could put them at ease? “I am no demon!” I began, “What I am is Spawn of a Titan. My name is Rhishisikk, and I am a Singer of Truth. I literally cannot lie to you.”

Okay, nobody had... That screaming was so annoying...

I walked over and popped Rarawga’s hip back into place. Like magic, his eyes rolled backward into his head as he passed out.

“I literally cannot lie to you.” I repeated. “I am here on a quest for vengeance, but it is not against you. I am here for fewer of your prisoners than you can count on one hand.” I saw a raised hand, and chuckled. “Not that few, but fewer than if you had all your fingers remaining.”

The crowd slowly stopped laughing, and went about their individual lives.

I got about to living mine. All I needed to do... damn it, I had nothing to trade if they regarded their humans as slaves, as possessions. <2 >

The headquarters was still a squat two story building that looked like children had just plopped the structure down on the ground, and then rebuilt the wall where it cracked. It was mostly mud-brick with a ceiling of tile, and a wooden divider that served as interior roof and floor. There were rings in the front to which a tarp on poles might be attached to create the illusion of a porch.

To either side of the door were the gnollish equivalent of bodybuilders. Their fur was just long enough to be messy, and just thick enough that it might have counted as armor. From left to right, their dominant colors were black, sandy, dusk brown, and blonde (NOT a normal coloration for Hyenadae, but then again I’ve already gone over what attempting to blend in gets gnolls).

Sandy tried to clear his throat, but this led to a coughing fit. Just when I thought it was over, he hacked up a glop of phlegm and began again. The others just glared at me while this was going on.

[You have resisted social manipulation. You have resisted an emotional manipulation (Cause Fear).]

Yeah, yeah. I was down to 22/120 Health, under a quarter. I’d been at worse places in my life.

When he had control of his lungs again, Sandy rose to his normal height and said, “What business do you have with the council of chiefs?”

“I wish to trade information for your slaves.” I said.

“The slaves mine salt.” Dusky said. “We need more slaves, not less.”

“Do you speak for your chief?” I asked.

He bounced the butt of his … I’m going to call it a foot lance. It was thicker and longer than a normal spear, about as long as the ones used to hunt boars, but without the cross-pole. He bounced the butt of that monstrous sticker against the ground twice. “I do so speak.” he said.

I blinked, and stopped my lids at half open. “Do all the chiefs share that view?”

Dusky spat. “They do not.”

“May I speak with them?”

“If they tell us to admit you,” Black said, “which they have not.”

“This,” Blondo said, “is where you howl and whine about not being able to see them, until they take pity on you and send the least of them to the door to see what you want.”

I sighed. Of course it was something like that. “And this door, I suppose I might knock upon it?”

“No.” Sandy said. “We’re not savages.”

“Of course we are.” Dusky said.

“We ARE savages.” Sandy said, “But we aren’t … well some of us ARE barbarians. But we are NOT uncivilized brutes and thugs.”

“He means we don’t know which of the chieftains inside is the least, nor do we know if they are awake or asleep.” Blondo said. “It is upon you to disturb them, not us.”

I scratched at my left shoulder. “Other guards are at the side and back doors?”

Black nodded. “And some at the windows, though I don’t know which ones. However you are now planning to bypass us, I cannot recommend it.”

“Is it that easy to read my emotions?” I asked.

“For us, it is.” Dusky said. “We can see much that helps us do our jobs.”

This, I guessed, was where a volume enhancing power might be useful. There was no help for it; I took a deep breath, and...

<Taunt. >

“Hey, you sissy chieftains!” I shouted. “Here I am! Under a quarter of my maximum health! Do I still scare you so much? Perhaps you should put on the harem silks, and send your females out to greet me! Cowards! I name you cowards and fools! FACE ME!”

All the guards had their weapons out. Black an axe that a minotaur wouldn’t be ashamed to wield, Sandy a curved sword, with a wavy dagger in his off hand. Dusky still had his lance, and Blondo had... to call it a maul would be a generosity. It was a lump of stone at the end of a very long and thick wooden haft.

To my surprise, it was a woman who came to the door. She was laughing, so that the white stripes amid her dark browns seemed to be chasing each other. “You have their attention, o most noisy of visitors.” she said, “Woe unto you for gaining it in such a way.”

“That’s your chieftain’s wife.” Sandy told Dusky.

“It’s the wife, not the chieftain himself.” Dusky replied. “We were both wrong. The bet is a push.”

Even as I passed between them and into the inside, they exchanged increasingly impolite words.

Inside, there were three impressive men. The largest could have been Black’s older brother (and in fact was); there was a small but fierce looking albino, his red eyes practically glowing even though there was little light to reflect; and there was one nearly two parts in ten of scars that made ugly furrows in his fur.

“Well?” Scar asked. “State your purpose, or try to run. We’ve better things to do than just stare at you.”

“Great chieftains,” I said, “I am trying to exchange knowledge of a hobgoblin caravan laden with food and supplies for their army in the south for a mere handful of slaves.”

“Go outside,” Big Black said, “and turn right. Follow that road for a mere two hundred paces; you will come upon more than four double handfuls of our wounded.”

“If provided access to mana,” I said, “I might be able to heal some of their wounds. At the very least, I can reduce the amount of disease among them.”

“That,” Albino said, “is worth far more than mere knowledge of an army caravan, probably too guarded for us to attack. What kinds of mana, and in what volume?”

<1 > As I said, this was ANY intense emotion for them. I don’t know whether they found that funny or worrisome or angry or sad; but whatever they were feeling, they were feeling it strongly.

<2 > I find it amusing that some cultures and species that object the most to becoming slaves seem adept at gathering others to be theirs.