Chapter 39

Name:Born a Monster Author:Mike_Kochis
Chapter 39: Born A Monster, Chapter 39 – Web of Lies

Born A Monster

Chapter 39

Web of Lies

Initially, I thought his skill the greater; she attacked with savagery but could not reach him.

He yielded ground, but did so toward the nest. I had little choice but to follow. It wasn’t courage or duty, but fear. If Mariella fell, what chance did the rest of us have?

Well, yeah, in hindsight still a pretty good one. In hindsight.

I didn’t have an ability like Flurry of Blocks, but I like to think I did all right. If nothing else, my shield protected her flank from the thigh down.

.....

The others were protecting Adara, who took down spiders at a ferocious pace. She even had time to assist us by slaying the occasional spider from the cave.

Telefaunad grabbed a ball of webbing from his belt. In his hand, it ignited, and he threw it at me. When I blocked with the shield, fragments of burning web splashed around the edges.

I activated Boil, Boil, and kept blocking; I was even able to wave the burning shield at spiders to keep them away.

For her part, Marielle used her hooked blade to sever limbs from the spiders that came near. And every time she made such a blow, I needed to attempt a block.

Both of them were injured, the rocks being equally treacherous footing that randomly created openings.

A spider leapt at me, and I caught it on the burning shield. It tried to bite my elbow, but I stuck the torch against its head.

“ENOUGH.” Boomed a voice from the crevasse, as a series of black tent poles began to emerge, folding in ways that tent poles were never meant to.

Oh. No, those were legs. Those were HER legs.

“THERE WILL BE NO MORE DEATH BROUGHT TO MY SISTERS. THIS ENDS NOW.”

She was larger, and more glorious than Eihtfuhr. I didn’t need to ask to know that she was the queen of all these spiders.

“Blue fires of destruction, hear me and grant my request! I am Adara the silver, and I call upon you to be made manifest in the world. Destroy and consume my enemy. Column of Fire!”

A whirling vortex of blue flame released the essence of destruction, centered upon her, began to expand along the base.

I had seen this attack before. We were too close.

“Down!” I screamed at Marielle.

“Yes!” Telefaunad proclaimed. “Bow before her majesty, the spider queen.”

I tried to knock her over, to land on top of her, but with her free hand she caught my head and shoved me to the ground.

I curled under my shield, and angled it in a way I hoped would deflect the fiery blast.

Telefaunad was hurled from the glen by the blast of expanding flame.

“Mystic Shield!” Marielle screeched, trying to cut a wedge out of the explosion.

[You have taken 24 points of Thermal (fire) damage. You have 6/30 health remaining.]

[You have received a serious injury: Extra Crispy.]

The leather straps of the shield, now attached to nothing, fell off my arm.

“EXCELLENT. I AM GLAD TO KNOW YOU ARE TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY.”

From somewhere, there was a delicious smell of roasted meat. Oh, it was coming from my entire right side, smoking but not destroyed.

I was alive, and those limbs moved when I tried hard enough.

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

No, no! I had a Resist Pain skill...

[Resist Pain check has failed. You will experience a period of unconsciousness.]

#

Well, obviously, our side won. They made camp there, and in the morning, they poured some water down my throat.

They draped me over Mask’s saddle, and began the long journey back.

Everything smelled like charcoal. Eating was painful. Drinking was painful. Breathing was painful.

At some point during the ride home, Marielle looked at me with her mummy-wrapped face held close to mine. “Just so you know, I will never employ you as my shield bearer again.”

That was the least of my concerns. My skin on that side had cracked open at more than one place, and I had a timer counting down for how long I had before the Feverish condition set in.

I had JUST gotten myself to where I wouldn’t scar! Now I had... a less than 1% chance if I upgraded to level 2 skin?

That ... didn’t sound bad...

“This is utterly unacceptable!” Sandru said. “I will get you a name placard for your bed! How does that sound?”

“Burn ointment sounds better.”

It turns out that the leaves of young aloe plants are common in spring. Mixed with egg whites, and applied twice per day, my ravaged flesh healed rapidly. Well, over two weeks, much to Sandru’s amazement.

I’d like to say I gorged myself on food, but the truth is almost all of that biomass went toward either my debt or healing.

I did everything I could to reduce the chance for a scar. I cleaned the wound. I rubbed the burned areas three times daily.

And. I. Didn’t. Scratch.

Much.

My health resting at 19/30, I sought out Cosimo.

“What contracts are available?”

“Once Sandru clears you, your duties are still to your current contract.”

“So the Brutal Boar?”

“I’d check there first, yes. If you can’t find out where they went, then your duty is to wait here. Oh, and you’re to undergo more thorough shield training.”

“You mean the guardsmen are going to pummel me with clubs.”

“Twice a day, from what I hear. If I were wearing your skin, I’d be out looking for your employers most diligently.”

“Thank you for your advice, Lord Cosimo.”

“Advice? Consider it an order from Reynald. AFTER Sandru clears you, of course.”

Sandru checked under my scales, drew blood into a glass vial to hold it up to the sunlight, and pronounced that I seemed to have recovered enough for duty.

“Whomever finds and bottles whatever allows you to heal, that man shall be wealthy beyond measure.”

#

“You look like a cart splashed you with muck.” The bartender said when I got his attention. “Baths are two tin pieces, three if you want warm water.”

Well, no. Not at those prices. “Actually, I’m seeking my employers.”

Best

“How would I know who your employers are?”

“Adara, Philecto, Gustavian? The town’s most experienced adventurers?”

“And how do I know you’re affiliated with them?”

I pointed to my head with both hands. “Snake. Face. How many people who look like me come in here?”

“What’s it worth to you?” he asked.

“I guess I’ll find out on my own, then.” I said, and set about doing that.

None of the eight guards on duty remembered seeing them leave.

I didn’t know what shops they frequented, where they might have talked about their next job.

Sigh. I needed more Charisma skills. So annoying, that you had to talk to people to develop them.

I got back to the guild in time for my drubbing. Once they learned how much my new scales protected me, they really let loose.

Incidentally, it takes four times the dairy you get from swallowing a broken tooth to regrow it.

I also needed armor, and for cheap armor, there was gambeson. Gambeson was quilted layers of linen and wool; enough work that I couldn’t afford to buy it down to my size.

What I could afford was to take the tortoise shell to a toymaker, explained to him that I wanted to turn it into a lockbox, and wait a few days. Black Snake seemed to appreciate that.

Each day, I checked the gates and the inn. Each day, I failed.

Two days, Kismet was between contracts, and pronounced me as better at letters. Undaunted, she moved up to words.

.....

“Hey, do you have a book for Grot or Achean letters?” I asked.

She swatted at my nose with her book. “Books are NOT cheap, Rhishi! Go buy your own if you need those languages.”

As if I had money! Well, yes, I had some money. I wasn’t starving.

And, just to rub in that I didn’t know my letters, she left a note behind for me. She’d alternated the alphabets each word, in a Manoran-Furdish-Itini cycle. It took me two days to decipher the cursed thing.

During those days, I had time to consider Pankratios, my warrior class. It didn’t have a lot of shield abilities, seeming to rely mostly on contact weapons, fists, feet, and holds. It was brutal and savage, and I lacked the Valor score to purchase most of the defensive abilities.

I lacked the development points to purchase the others. I had earned a development point somewhere, but when had been the last time I’d earned one before that?

I kneaded the sides of my head behind my eye sockets.

In order to survive, I needed to improve; faster was better.

My divisor was ridiculously high; so there really was no faster.

It was a worse puzzle than anything Kismet had given me.

#

With two days left on the initial contract, I found Philecto at the bar, reciting the tale of how he had been cornered by a ghoul in a mausoleum, abandoned by his friends. I’d be more interested in the details if it had ever happened.

I pulled up a chair at the edge of his crowd.

“If you’re taking up a chair, then order something.” A barmaid in his orbit told me.

“What manner of breakfast can two tin coins buy?”

I’d eaten at the Guild, of course, but no need to trouble them with facts they didn’t care about.

“Scrambled egg, porridge, and a mug of beverage.”

“Tea, please.”

My coins vanished into her palm.

The egg had raw bits flowing around in it, the porridge was poorly mixed, and the tea – wasn’t.

Well, lesson learned. Don’t ever have breakfast here again. Got it.

Philecto eventually noticed me. “We thought you might have been retired.”

I flexed the arm. “I seem to have recovered nicely. What’s next?”

“Next, we recover for four days, and then we see about how hard it is for you to work at Whitehill.”

“The Guild has an office in Whitehill.” I said.

“That is exactly the problem.”

“I’m sure I don’t understand.”

“You took evaluation tests when you joined the guild?”

“Two days of them.” I admitted.

“Expect harder tests. There is a rivalry between your two offices.”

“That could be why we’re not getting requested backup from them.”

“You’ll want to ask around on the Whitehill side. Things are rarely as straightforward as one person tells you.”

“So what is our mission in Whitehill?”

“Damned if I know. Some old shaman bones that some minor noble or other has their hands on.”

“Who pays you to look into these things?”

“Adara comes up with them on her own, I think Gustavian humors her in hopes of getting into her pants.”

“And you? Are you also humoring her?”

“I think, if there’s a way to accomplish her goals, it might work for more than one person. What about you?”

Well, people lived to about what, forty years of age? With my Inherent Longevity, I was pretty much set at around a hundred sixty millennia. The difference between that and true immortality might matter in another eon or so.

I shrugged. “I’ve a massive debt to pay off before considering any of that.”

“What do you think of Marielle?”

“I think she’s been good at what she does for too long, and has forgotten what it’s like for the rest of us.”

“Ha! True words.”

As if I were capable of speaking falsely.

“My concern is whether you would work with her again.”

“I seem to be making a habit of almost dying. I’ll not say I’m fond of that.”

“She dealt with you harshly, I just want to know if you harbor any resentment?”

“Over words?” I shrugged. “She must know some powerful magics, if just her words have that kind of control over people.”

“Ah, I must have forgotten what it is to be young, then. If she had spoken to me that way, I’d hold a grudge.”

“What sort of things can you do with just a grudge?”

“If you’ve no grudge, let’s not waste time on it. But be ready for when we call upon you.”

#