Born a Monster

Chapter 85

Mansion

I know that many people will revile me; say that I should have risked hitting a reset button on my life rather than serve Rakkal.

My response is that person would have escaped from the centaurs, from the goblins, and from the humans. That person, that individual, would very likely have died at several points along the journey of my life.

But enough about who I was not, this is the story of who I was.

Rakkal sat on the lip of the town’s central well, breathing heavily and gazing up at the stars.

.....

“Tell me of your quest. The one that forces you to do,” he waved a hand at the fallen heroes, “this.”

“My System tells me that quest is complete.” I explained the turn of phrase that required me, crippled, to be here.

During that time, his troops reported that the mayor and his family had fled.

“Are you on any other quests to kill me?”

“Only one to outwit you, save a certain family in Whitehill.”

He watched his right hand as he clenched and unclenched his hand. “Explain that one.”

I did so.

“One bronze smith? Your loyalty is worth more than that. Write them a letter, tell them to go. Anything else? Any other reason I should kill you?”

“No quests, if that’s what you mean. I would spare a number of people from this...” Lacking the words, I just waved a hand to indicate the burning city. “But it’s not a compulsion.”

He snorted. “I have made worse than this happen before, and expect to do more monstrous things in the future. Those who rally to my banner, shall rally. The others... discipline shall bring them into line.”

“For what purpose?” I asked.

“You may as well ask why the sky rains, or why plants grow. The legendary heroes before me have shaped the world to match their wills. Why, then, should I not do the same?”

I pressed a knuckle into the bottom of my chin. “So that IS the Legendary Axe?”

“It is.”

“And how are you able to wield it without a conflict of Systems?”

“I was born without a System.” He said.

I blinked.

And blinked. “So before discovering the Axe, you just did everything for yourself?”

“I did. I had no health meter, no measure of my sanity or serenity. No access to classes, although I can gain the abilities by training and hard work. I eat when I am hungry, and drink when I am thirsty, and work until I am tired. This axe changed all of that.”

He stroked a hand carefully along the blade as it began returning to its natural shape. “So much about the world that I never knew, and it is hidden in this axe. To unlock its knowledge and powers, I need to actually use the abilities it provides. And those abilities were imprinted by savages and barbarians, raiders and stealers of thrones.”

“I have unlocked only the bottom three tiers of power contained within this axe.”

Three tiers? Along multiple trees? Just how much power was in the Legendary Weapons?

“How many tiers does it contain?” I asked.

“At least four. I’m still unlocking abilities.”

#

“But enough about me.” He said. “Tell me about this ability you have to adapt traits of those you consume; it intrigues me.”

“There is not much to tell. Cooking destroys whatever information I might have gained; it seems to work only on animals, not on plants. Once I know an evolution is available, I can unlock it with biomass and nutrition, both of which are needed to actually grow the organs granting whatever ability I desire. Some require upkeep, most do not.”

What was I obliged to tell him? Was he planning on somehow stealing my abilities? Copying them? I would need to play some cards close to the vest. “So far, most of my abilities are inherent, rather than uses per day. And many of the costs are well beyond what I can afford at my current Omnivore level.”

“And magical abilities?” he asked.

“I have some minor magic, mostly-”

“No!” He slapped the well, hard enough to knock himself onto his feet. “Can you absorb other creatures’ magical abilities?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

“You will. Soon. What about classes? Memories, skills?”

“Those pass into the beyond with the soul, so far as I know.”

“Hrm. Pity. So how powerful are you? Enough to escape from the cult of the Baleful Eye, or so I hear.”

I shook my head. “I sold back about three months’ worth of muscle developments.”

“Three months? How rapidly can you grow?”

“In theory? A month or so to raise a statistic from two to three, but I can queue a number of minor evolutions equal to my Might score.”

“What is a minor evolution?”

“Oh, things like claws, or night vision, or digestive modifications.”

“And magical senses, can you grow those?”

“It depends what you mean. A number of bugs have the ability to sense tremors through the ground, which seems magical to me.”

“How do you detect nodes of magic?”

“The same as any adept; I keep alert, and use my Lore skills to see if a node should be tappable or not.”

“I admit, I expected more magic when I heard you were a magical beast.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry. If you ever do disappoint me, you will know immediately. Come, walk with me. I want to visit your street of blacksmiths first.”

Thirty gold is more that I would pay for a tour guide. But, if he wanted to start slowly, who was I to tell him no?

“This way, my lord.”

“None of that. If you are to serve as part of the Red Tide, I need you to be dominant, not submissive. You will call me big brother, or Rakkal.”

“Or elder brother?”

[You have received twelve points of Bludgeoning damage. After armor, six points have been received.]

[Your pain threshold exceeds your remaining health points. You will experience a period of unconsciousness.]

He backhanded me that quickly. I took that to mean no, I was never to call him such.

#

From the smells, someone must have pressed a bakery into service as a hospital. But what bakery had old lace in such abundance?

I looked forward, seeing confusing furniture. Directly ahead, no, above me there was a candelabra of black steel and glass, the candles long since out.

I seemed to be in a two-story greeting room, stairs on both the left and right as facing inward from the door. I had been plopped down on the central rug, a plate of biscuits near my head.

Distant smells of blood and death confirmed that at some time recently, there had been combat in this house. From the open front door came smells of ash and smoke, lit by the overly bright light of day.

There were five biscuits, which made them a decent meal by themselves.

I discovered a pair of Uruk guards at the door, one leaning at either side of the door.

“Do both of you speak the goblin tongue?”

“Of course, we speak Uruk.” Said the one on the left. “But you’ve got a terrible accent.”

“My name is Katharsos, that guy is Nassos. We guard you during the day.”

“I was unaware my position was worth guards.”

Nassos snorted. “No, he means we keep you from running.”

“Is Rakkal expecting to talk to me tonight?”

“He is. I recommend you get some sleep.”

“I’ll look around in here for a guest room or such.”

“Let us know where you find one before getting to sleep.”

“What am I supposed to do for meals?”

Nassos shuffled his feet. “We thought humans had special rooms inside for cooking food.”

.....

Katharsos sucked on his upper lip. “We wouldn’t mind a late night snack.”

“Yes, we would.”

“If we eat the evidence, who’s going to know?”

“We will.”

“You two argue about that, I’ll see what I can cook.” Actually, I had a lot of recipes, even if most of them were just stews and teas.

The pantry was well stocked, and I had some potatoes baking, a stew of peas and carrots with some kind of small seeds for flavor, and a small pot of tea coming to a boil.

There was a bump from the attic above. Really? Who puts a dirty dusty attic above what needs to be the cleanest building in the house? I was going to ignore it until after breakfast, when there was a huge sneeze.

Well, if the guards came in to kill everyone, that was just going to disrupt my cooking. I mean, more than the tacky places on the floor where blood was just not drying for whatever reason.

I really needed to clean that up.

But ... first things first. There was a door, but the dangly string had been pulled into the attic rather than left dangling.

#

Well, it took a little bit more acrobatics than I liked using, but I could reposition some high chairs, use those to clamber up the cupboards, and with a bit of a stretch (in retrospect, I shouldn’t have been even attempting that until my health had recovered) I could just put my claws into the gap at the edge of the attic door. My weight did the rest.

“Damn it, we’re discovered. You won’t take us alive!”

“I’ve no interest in taking you at all. Be quiet up there, or the guards will come for you.”

“Rhishi?” It’s amazing how loud pattering feet sound from the floor below. “Oh, gods, it is you. Are we saved?”

What were the odds that Rakkal would place me in the house with my friend in it? Not by accident, I decided.

“Not just yet.” I said. “But I can at least get you some food. Not this, the guards are expecting this food, but soon.”

“We need blankets.” Came a female voice. “And my jacket, if those barbarians haven’t stolen it.”

“I should be able to get some blankets.” I said. “Close the hatch again while I’m gone. Wait, where are the clean blankets kept?”

And then began the first of many runs. I took the guards there bribery food, went upstairs to get a load of blankets, snuck those into the attic above the kitchen, and used soapy water to start cleaning the floor while a load of porridge cooked with little bits of onion and chopped spinach leaves.

Pot, bowls, and utensils, all kept at well above my head level, were passed upward.

“What about my ham and eggs?” a man asked.

“The eggs have gone bad by now.” The woman said. “Maybe the ham slices are still good?”

The ham slices, kept in the cellar, were still good, as were some sausage links that I needed to do some creative broom work to retrieve. And they needed some tea and a bottle of wine.

Honestly, I’d expected to just gorge myself on everything I just cooked.

The eggs had turned, but not so badly that I couldn’t eat them. Besides, I needed every eggshell I could get for the minerals needed to fix my bones.

It turned out the cook had slept next to the kitchen, and that bedroom was free of blood.

So, was this a test? To see whether I was more loyal to Rakkal than to my friend? Or was it meant as a gift?

If so, he could have said so. Or written a note. Wait, without a System, how did one learn to read?

For that matter, how did the System communicate to me in words before I even understood what language was?

But, compelling as these questions were, they were no match for a straw mattress and a feather pillow.

#

Essentially, a reset button is a selectable option to start over from the very beginning.