Born a Monster

Chapter 87

Selection

It has always been difficult for me to select animals for sacrifice, even to my own appetite.

A hawk, for whatever allowed them to breathe at those altitudes.

A cat, for their soft footfalls.

A goat, for their sure balance along mountain paths.

.....

I recited the list to Sholwyr.

“Alligator or crocodile, for the ability to hold its breath. Cricket, for the leaping ability.”

“That one doesn’t work at size one or above.” I said.

“Pity. Camel, for heat resistance. Snow hare, for resistance to cold. Maybe a ram, deer, or elk could do the same. Ram ought to be able to replace both the hare and the goat.”

“Thank you, it is good to consult someone else on these matters.”

“I have been consulting since I was two, assisting my brothers into tricking my mother into baking cookies. I’ve become better at it than Harkulet is.”

“What is Harkulet’s stake in the Red Tide? What does he gain from it?”

“He has delusions of taking control after Rakkal gets himself killed in one of these risky combat hortzpahs that he likes doing.”

“Hortzpah?”

“A hobgoblin word for something flashy and risky and usually poorly thought out.”

“So heroic, by some cultures.”

“If that culture thinks with their muscles rather than their brain, sure. In our culture, heroes can think and be tricky. It’s okay to avoid combat, as long as you win in the end.”

“I’m reasonably certain I have no intention of challenging Hortiluk for control of the Red Tide.”

“That is a wise choice.” She said. “Trusting little whelp like you would be dead before you could pose a significant threat.”

I shrugged. “Thank you for your honest assessment.”

“Not a problem. Okay, this should be obvious, but don’t mention you’re a Truthspeaker, can you do that?”

“Not all truths need be spoken.”

“Excellent. Realize that to a culture that prizes trickery and misdirection that class is a crippling weakness.”

“Like being blind?”

“Like being unable to think. You’ll instantly lose anything resembling social value.”

“On the topic of being able to think, why am I a better candidate for this than Harkulet?”

“Harkulet is too important to Rakkal, and I am too important to Harkulet. Oh, and we’re not to return under penalty of death.”

“Should I ask you for your side of the story first, or just learn about it from your clan?”

“First, you shouldn’t mention either of us by name. Second, a grouping of similarly theological hobgoblins is called a conclave, and the ruling council a synod. Basically, whomever can state their position in the most religiously acceptable way wins.”

“What should I know about the religious practices of the conclave, then?”

“Nothing. Your odds of survival are better if you know nothing about hobgoblin religion, but are eager to learn.”

I squinted. “What are you going to teach me about hobgoblin culture, then?”

“How to lie, cheat, steal without being caught, and how to avoid poisoned cups. Just basic survival stuff.”

#

She proceeded to lay out a culture that made goblins look cuddly and loveable.

“Why do we want the Conclave of Thorns to join the Red Tide?”

“Because we need more spies, better spies. Always. Has Rakkal told you how much we spent trying to learn about you?”

“He has not.”

“Probably because he doesn’t know.”

“He may not care.” I said, recalling the ease with which he gave up thirty gold coins.

“Oh, he cares about money. Harkulet made sure of it. Rakkal needs those skills in order to stay in power until he dies in a way that benefits my master.”

“So by that logic, I should worry about what you and by extension, Harkulet have planned for me?”

“Nothing you can’t live through. And congratulations, that’s your first question for dealing with hobgoblin society.”

“And you won’t give me your answer?”

“Oh, absolutely. If you bring the Conclave into the fold, your value to Rakkal rises. As your value rises, you become an important part in Harkulet’s plans. Once that happens, my understanding of you rises in importance. That, in turn, increases my value to Harkulet. So everything you see as altruistic is actually selfish and self-serving.”

“And what do you gain by revealing your hand in this manner?”

“A woman must retain some mysteries. So where were we?”

“Poisons, and how to avoid them.” Honestly, poisons had unnerved me since that day in the Guild. Toxic damage was kind of like being lit on fire. There was just no defense against it... or was there? “Tell me about antivenoms.”

“For a lot of poisons, they just don’t exist. In order to develop an antivenom, something has to survive the venom first. So things like deathshells, the five step snake, black lotus ... or maybe white lotus, I get them confused. Anyway, counting on your enemy using simple poisons is dumb.”

“Okay so how do I counter the higher end poisons?”

“That’s what I’m saying. You can’t. You can only avoid them. So you should see something in your Stealth class called Detect Poison.”

“Detect Natural Poisons?”

“No... what is your Stealth class?”

“Hunter.”

“Useless. That will protect you from lower end poisons, nothing manufactured like mercury. Well, do you have the development points to at least get that?”

“My System development queue is occupied for two more days.”

“For what useless ability, dare I ask?”

“Improved Grab. It’s the start of the grappling track.”

“Okay, useless in itself, but yes it leads to good stuff. Didn’t know Hunter gave you that ability.”

“Pankratios.”

“Pankratios? The traveling circus wrestlers?”

“I wondered where the class came from. What do you know about them?”

“How did you get a class... you just paid to get it through your System?”

“I think so. I was insane at the time.”

“That explains a lot about you.” She said. “And that’s another thing you should never tell a hobgoblin.”

“Because of lack of respect?”

“Because there’s a special branch of mentalism that lets them use that as leverage.”

“Oh.”

#

She told me many things that were worth Political XP, but everything I learned that day got filtered into a daily learning and then run through my divisor, so I got 1XP per day for each of those three days.

After that, Harkulet needed her (much to her joy), and so I had time to go over the evolutions of hawk, cat, and goat. Honestly, the town was full of stray cats. I should have eaten one long before.

Everyone thinks that larger wings are all that is needed to fly a humanoid, and in a sense they’re right. The proportions are just frigging huge, and eventually the wings themselves, and the muscles to move them, consume more lift than the wings can generate. So... no. Nowhere near that biomass.

What I’d mistaken to be a lung improvement was actually improvements to the lung, changes to the blood, changes in the muscles and organs... basically an entire overhaul of ME. I flagged the lung upgrade and the upgrade to the improved lung from the kobold at the same time, ditto for the blood, and then I started just running out of time.

[You have succeeded in a quest to save the life of Evylina Moleas, shopkeeper of Raven Spear Brassworks and her family from the ravages of Rakkal and the Red Tide.

Primary – Save Evylina Moleas. 10 quest points awarded.

Primary – Save her daughters. 2/2 saved. 10 quest points awarded.

Optional – Save her husband. Accomplished. 5 quest points awarded.

.....

Optional – Save her sister, Katherine the Castrator. Accomplished. 5 quest points awarded.

Optional – Save Katherine’s children. 2/2 saved. 5 quest points awarded.

Quest 100% completed! 10 bonus quest points awarded.

Total award: 45 quest points.

After divisor, you have received 2 development points for completing this quest.]

Well, that was great! What could I use quest points for? They didn’t seem to plug into or convert into ANYTHING. The development points were nice, though. I was and am always running low on those.

No wonder heroes went on epic quests all the time!

Dang it, dang it, dang it... and, it was suddenly too late, I was healed. Crap.

I had sorted the evolutions from the snow hare and crocodile by that time, as well as minor differences in six species of river fish, and all manner of animals I never considered as food sources.

I can only hope that none of them were Aware.

I had a kit the likes of which would have made Guild me envious. My shield was wood, without a metal rim, and I had no metal armor. For obvious thermal damage reasons.

Instead, atop my gambeson was a layer of overlapping wooden panels, something like brigandine, but made of lumber. Over this, a hooded robe of an arctic cat could be worn, but that was too hot in the lowlands, even in the grip of fall.

I had been skeptical of the armor until a skirmish with a plains-cat and her mate. It did nothing to protect my face, but I was still in better shape than either of them were.

#

What can I say about the Twelve Daggers of Ice and Mourning?

Nothing lives above the line of death, under the snow only the hardiest of mosses and algae with no nutritional value.

The biting wind seemed to find any gap between my multiple layers of protection. My teeth cracked, I nearly lost an eyeball, and... you don’t want a list of injuries I almost suffered.

The cold is no joke; it can kill you, it will try. In my case, it almost succeeded, in spite of all my evolutions. Snow hare fur for skin on the way back it was.

Without the changes to my lungs and blood, I might not have had the stamina to keep moving. Without the ability to store biomass for multiple days?

Let’s just say I came down from the Daggers acquainted with magics of Snow, Ice, Storm, Frost, and Mountain (an Earth subtype) and full mana pools in each of them.

I had a new respect for Harkulet, and I hadn’t even met the fool. That, or he really wasn’t liked by his conclave.

Merciful gods, I am thankful that I was born the spawn of Titans!

At a large flat rock just below the line of death, a natural spot attuned to Earth, I pulled out the remnants of my teeth and left them there as an offering of bone and blood.

Incidentally, don’t do that; pulling out teeth is a method of torture for a reason.

I passed through a slope inhabited by dark-furred domug, but they did not approach me, and backed off when I tried to approach them.

The land to the east of the Daggers was heavily wooded, and the mast of acorns had fallen. I dared not fight the large boars of that valley for them, but it meant there was plenty of other food those boars were ignoring, and I ate well.

From the height of the mountain pass, the rivers had looked to be surrounded by fields, which they were, and much closer than they actually were.

Some of the tenant farmers were ursinoids, or man-bears. But the majority of the tenant farmers were goblinoids, thin and frail and dark of hair, with shades of skin color from red to a bronze-brown.

From their towns, black smoke rose. Spies, my ass! If even a quarter of that coal was being burned in smithies, they had the ability to forge metal weapons and armor to fully equip Rakkal’s army.

I salute you, Sholwyr, disciple and assistant to Harkulet. The depth of your deception was unparalleled.

These people didn’t need the Red Tide; we might as well have been on the other side of the world from them. Even if we could bring our full military might to bear...

But I went half a day before even catching sight of my first soldier.

Curious...

#