Chapter 42: Born A Monster, Chapter 42 – Villains

Born A Monster

Chapter 42

Villain

I had much time the next day to wonder if Gustavian remembered his dream before the party invite reached me.

My system cancelled my last paid biomass development, one that thickened the wrinkled layers on the outside of the brain. It also cancelled subsidiary adaptions to expand my skull size. I only got back half the biomass, and all of the refund went toward my debt.

Today, the warning had returned that there would be severe consequences if I did not meet the minimum biomass payment.

[Maternal Biomass Loan Reserve: 3827/2500 used, 39 biomass per day interest (1%). This loan is in RECLAMATION status, and may not be borrowed against.]

.....

So, moral of that story is don’t borrow against your System. It doesn’t care whether you can afford to repay or not.

I wondered what would happen if I went unfed more days than I had unfinished biomass purchases.

This imprisonment, if it went on, could reduce me to ... what could my System reduce me to?

And this farce of my guild was unknowingly using that as leverage. They may not know how broken I was going to be –

Oh gods, don’t reduce me back to my origins. Some instinctive little tadpole. I – I feared that. I could look back and see how many things had gone just right.

Actually, the odds seemed pretty skewed in my favor, when I was young.

And restarting from ground zero would only set me back a maximum of fourteen months, right?

Wrong, but okay, I’d been over the good points.

And help was coming – maybe.

And if not... why was I waiting for help, anyway?

My skin wasn’t armored, but it offered some protection. My claws might be as good as my knife in a fight. My magic, unimpressive in a combat.

In short, I was more than a match for most children.

The torture had begun shortly after what should have been breakfast. Wren arrived with contract, inkpot, and quill. The hulking guardsman brought pliers and halitosis.

Needless to say, I accepted the party invite.

“Gustavian.”

“Kid. If this is all faked just to get help, I’ll skin you myself.”

“It’s not.”

By the time he was in the cell with me, the guardsman had pulled out all the claws on my right hand, and had worked his way up to the elbow on pulling out scales.

Gustavian wasted no time, just opening the door casually, walking toward me, and shoving his sword into the man’s back.

He pointed a hand at Wren. “Your choice. Make a noise, make a run for the door, and I’ll kill you. Stay quiet, and you’ll live to talk about this day. So,” he swept up the guardsman’s keyring, “which of these frees him?”

“You’ll hang for this.”

“Kid, I’m not coming back to this city. You decide how many corpses I leave behind in this room.”

I was wobbly, but I could stand.

“I will outlive you.” I told Wren. I turned my head and spat.

#

The horse and pony were waiting by the service door to the pantry under the kitchen.

“I’d have killed that guy.” Gustavian said, as we made our way to the city’s southern gate.

I shrugged. “Wanted out more than I wanted the XP.”

People were watching and pointing and discussing amongst themselves.

“Gustavian, what’s our plan to get outside the city walls?”

“We ride out through the gate.”

“Won’t the mental messages get there first?”

“Kid, it’s called bribery. Coins have a way of making sure messages just don’t get to the right places.” But we picked up our pace to a light canter.

The watchmen at the south gate eyed me suspiciously, even though the bleeding had stopped by then. But, in their eyes, I wasn’t a person.

“I apologize; it seems coinage is a mighty magic to learn.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“So what is our plan from here?”

“We head south, renew our lease of the horses in Narrow Valley, get my daughter, and we retire to Seacrest.”

“And we resupply?”

He glared at me, and then his expression softened. “Yeah. We get supplies too.”

We struck off the main trail to the west.

“Avoiding pursuers?” I asked

“Avoiding pursuers.”

It took four days, foraging as we went. Gustavian wouldn’t let me eat grasses or start a fire those first two nights. I’d forgotten how hard it was to survive on raw forage, but between infused harvesting and manual foraging, we pulled through.

“Okay,” he said, “tie the reins of the pony off to the back of my saddle, and meet me outside the south gate.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My face isn’t well known. Yours-”

“I would like a shield, some manner of large knife or small blade for combat, but mostly, I need to report to the Guild regarding events in Whitehill.”

“Fine. Into the backpack with you, then.”

It was surprising how small a bundle I could make of myself. There was even room to cram a blanket atop me.

“Aw crap.” He said when we were inside the city. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I said, clambering out of the backpack.

“I thought you’d broken your neck.”

“I’m surprisingly flexible.”

“Guildhall’s right there.”

“I may have trouble getting equipment issued.”

“I’ll get what we need in the market, but probably not everything you want. ”

“Meet at the south gate, or at the Guild?” I asked.

“Guild. I’m already a fugitive in Whitehill, let’s try not to steal you from this town.”

I nodded. “I should be here, then. If not, there may be paperwork at the town center.”

“Works for me. Be safe.”

“I’ve not noticed a lot of safe to be had recently, but I will try.”

And so I returned to the Guild, to report my abuse at the hands of the Whitehill branch.

#

“And you expect me to do what about this?” Reynald asked.

“There must be some manner of way to resolve disputes between branches.”

“There is. They win. Their income and reputation both far exceed our own.”

“And that gives them ability to do whatever they want?”

“Inside the Guild, yes it does.” He sighed. “And you are certain this man stabbed by your employer is dead?”

“I am not. I did not stop to check. I know that Wren was alive when we left him.”

“You little monster! That doesn’t matter! A member of the Guild, even if from another chapter, has been slain. We cannot do any more business with him, nor with his team. They are anathema to us.”

“More so than the Crimson Hand? Why will they not aid us in our time of need?”

.....

“That is beyond what you need to know to perform your work.”

I held up my hand, the flesh still irritated. “I suffered for this guild. I desire to know why.”

“Your desires do not annul your duty.”

“I serve and obey. There is another matter I wish to discuss.”

“What possible matter?”

“How much do I owe the guild, by your records?”

“Nineteen gold, four silver, nine copper, and two tin.”

I opened a System window, and made a list of the coinage. I’d have to track it manually, but I could track it.

“How much is each day of Sandru’s care?”

“That depends on what medicines he administers.”

“Does he know what the guild charges for each of them?”

“He does not. He only knows what the Guild pays for them. Financial reality is that to keep supplies we may not need, we have to charge you more for them.”

“I’d rather pay a monthly fee to subsidize Sandru.”

“Get me the signatures of two thirds of the guild members, eighty-nine signatures, and I shall make that change. The linkboys and other tin workers will probably kill you in your sleep.”

“What if we divide the expenses by income, rather than just per pair of boots?”

“That is for free members only.”

“I see. Thank you for your valuable time, guildmaster.”

“You have always been honest with me, let me now be honest with you. I would sacrifice you in a heartbeat if it were the difference between life and death of this guild office.”

“I sincerely hope it never comes to that.”

“I forbid you to accompany this Gustavian person anywhere.”

“I- I don’t think I can do that. He saved my life, I don’t think I can turn him down on a mission to rescue his daughter.”

“A suicide mission.”

“How so? I’ve survived in Uruk lands before.”

“When they didn’t care about you. If you go on the run with a citizen of God Hand, that tribe is some fifteen hundred men and women. Warriors, hunters, trackers... You’d never escape their lands alive.”

“I would not have escaped Whitehill alive, or at least not in any condition under which I’d want to live.”

“It takes two weeks to starve.”

“It takes two weeks for a human to starve. How much do I need to eat just to stay alive? You know this.”

“If you go with him, I will send guardsmen to track you down.”

“Be certain it’s a team capable of taking Gustavian down. Do we still have such a team?”

“Get out of my office.”

#

historical

I was waiting on the front steps of the Guild when Gustavian returned.

“You have a puppy I don’t know about?”

“No.”

“Why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”

I told him of the guildmaster’s concerns, of my forbiddance to go with him.

“If you’re forbidden to go with me, why are you already on your mount?”

“Did you or did you not save my life?”

“Kid, I don’t want you going if you think we’re just going to die.”

“I think it is ten, perhaps twelve days before we reach Latla. I’ve seen you come up with plans in less time.”

“All right, but I gotta warn you I’m not thinking rational on this one.”

I shrugged. “I might die on this quest of yours; I would certainly have died or worse if left starving in Whitehill. Doesn’t seem like a bad trade.”

“And you sure you want to do this?”

“Oh, absolutely yes. If we put this off until later, you’ll find something crazier, like recruiting a dragon to burn down any Uruk that pursues you.”

He stopped, turned his horse to the northeast. “Nah, I’m not about to open THAT can of worms.” He turned his horse back south, and proceeded toward the town gate.

“See? You can make good decisions if you think about it.”

“Yeah. Here, have a shield. You’re on forage-finding duty; I need to do a lot of thinking.”

We rode hard, but stopped every so often to feed and water the animals. There was one curious band of plains-cats, but they scattered after hearing the noise Gustavian’s crossbow made when he pulled a lever to ready it for loading.

On the normal night, we had a stew of vegetables with a few servings of berries and whatever herbs we could find. In the morning, we had forager’s grains. It was sparse fair, nutritionally speaking. The bulk of the food went to Gustavian; it was only fair – I could survive on grasses that he couldn’t digest.

When I ate nothing else, I could fit sixty servings of grass in my stomach, each of them worth half a biomass. Filling myself at breakfast, dinner, and while on night watch, I could survive and pay back my loan. Gods, it was boring. It was torture.

But- we both survived. We swung east well around the city of the Crimson Hand. We followed the mountain ridge south. (Mountains aren’t as great for forage, but are much better for hunting.)

I held the horses while Gustavian bickered and argued with the God Hand for passage through their lands.

Fool that I was, I began to think that we were going to free Gustavian’s daughter without a major hassle.

#