Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Born A Monster, Chapter 50 – Bandit Hunters

Born A Monster

Chapter 50

Bandit Hunters

In the northeast, there were several groups of bandits. One of them had finally struck at a bait cart, and given us an idea of where to start looking for them.

The plan was that thirty of us would go out, look like a force that endangered them, get ambushed, defeat them, track them back to their camp, and bring as many of them as possible back here to the magistrate.

Their numbers would either bolster the guild or the city watch, and both were needed.

I think they just wanted to get Uloned out of the kitchen. He had once been a bandit volunteer himself.

.....

It was a massive outlay of members, including five carts (ten drovers and four bearers) and Nythia’s team.

My plan was to avoid talking to them. I tried to pretend I had a grudge, and discovered that I actually did. They had held me down and removed a large portion of my skin. They had gouged out my eyes, punctured my ears, and sliced off my tongue. Why shouldn’t I be angry with them?

I wasn’t planning on anything that would pump up my Malice or Wrath, but I did desire for bad things to happen to them.

That first day, I was looking for the hill containing the Morlocks, but I think we passed north of it.

Gemina was hearing no excuses from any of us foot soldiers; we walked in three columns, sergeants in the lead, and then shortest to tallest. The theory was that this allowed the soldiers in back to see over the heads of their shorter compatriots.

I had my shield repainted to guild colors, on the theory that I would stand out less.

There was no breaking ranks to forage; I planned to do it that night.

“If I’d wanted to be a soldier, I’d have joined the watch.” Skelios complained, as we were setting up camp.

Skelios was one of those thin cerebral types who thought himself more clever than he was. The most strenuous thing I’d ever heard of him doing was how he looked to avoid work. The man must have had Sloth and Complaining as his cultivation methods.

Oh, and he’d hung around too long with Manorans, thought of himself as one of them. Kind of like how I was thinking of myself as being allied with the humans, though I hadn’t drawn that connection yet.

“I didn’t have any plans before my indenture was sold to the Guild. It’s no bed of roses, but I like that I’m at least able to fight now.”

“Really? Real fighting isn’t what you seen in Crimson Hand. It’s two blokes, each trying to take the life of the other. And most of the time, that other bloke is stronger, or faster, or gots some kind of special move.”

Ah, like when I’d first fought a goblin, under Eihtfuhr’s watchful eyes.

“And what is your special move, Skelios?”

“I do my best fighting from behind the other guy. Let one of these forward fighter types engage first, and then circle around to strike where the enemy can’t parry or dodge.”

I pounded a tent stake. “I see that you enjoy great success with that method, but what about when the enemy outnumbers you?”

“Aye, that’s the time to lock shields and hold to the wall. Terrible times, terrible times.”

“So you think this expedition is going to be more your style of fighting?”

“Young lad, I can practically guarantee it.”

#

We foraged everything we could out of the land surrounding that campsite. I’d like to say we shared our food, but some more than others, and I made certain to fill my stomach with grass at least twice a day. It was the only way I saw to survive.

Helados picked a knife fight with Diamond, I’m not sure why. Neither of them was dead at the end of it, but they were both riding prone in different carts. Diamond had a vicious cut on her left cheek, and Helados had a stab wound just beneath his rib cage. Both became infected.

Nythia rode shotgun in Diamond’s cart, held her hand, talked to her, even prepared wet cloths to place on her forehead. It was clear that they had become close.

Wait.

The guild had three healers. Sandru needed to be at the guildhall, and Mashienn was still limping around, her leg not fully recovered.

“Does anyone know why Kamios isn’t out here with us?”

“We won’t be setting up a healing tent, Kamios is useless on the march.” I never did learn the name of the man who replied.

That was troublesome; without a fully trained healer or medic, we had limited ability to recover from wounds. I resolved to take a look at Diamond’s injury. I owed her that much.

“You stay away from her!” Nythia said. “If you’ve a grudge, take it up with me.”

“Get away, woman. Someone needs to change her bandage.”

I saw the pus-filled wound, the flesh peeling back around grains of garlic. “She needs more than a bandage. See if anyone has wine, or at least alcohol. We need only a swig or so to splash around the wound.”

Nythia reached into Diamond’s pack, produced a drinking flask. I did my best to clean the wound before stitching it closed and applying a new linen bandage, also treated with garlic powder.

“Get better, Diamond.” I said.

She muttered a wordless curse at me. Nythia said nothing.

I spent some time wondering about blessings. How did they work? What faith powered them? Were they as effective among fellow believers as different religions? Everything I’d heard indicated blessings were just bonuses given to other people.

Like leadership or inspiration abilities, just powered by divine mana.

So why did gods extract so much from their faithful?

I came to the same reason that the Guild did; because they could, and were greedy enough to do it. Except that didn’t quite track – how could there be no generous deities at all?

#

Well, I wasn’t about to go ask one. I had enough distractions foraging for food, cooking stews, and cleaning pots.

Stews and salads, salads and stews, with only such variety as our terrain allowed.

We still had two days to go before even being near the site where our cart had been looted.

“Why are we having to be all professional this far away?” Skelios asked.

“If I had to guess, so that we’re doing that whenever their scouts are nearby.”

“Scouts. We never used scouts when I was a bandit.”

And weren’t you caught and brought to trial? I managed not to say it out loud.

“Do some groups use scouts?”

“None that I’d heard of.” He said. “Bandit is more of a calling than a proper job. It’s something you feel your way around day to day, not something lived by” He threw his arms out to indicate the entire camp. “Rules.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t choose the city military, then. We seem to be reasonably busy.”

“Wasn’t this way when I joined. Used to be a day when proper soldiers were off fighting the border monsters, and mercenaries like us were left to our own devices.”

“The coin must have been more precious back then.” I said.

“Nah, just less of it around. Used to be, your word was good enough to get a drink. Nowadays the cheap bartenders want your coin up front.”

I shrugged. “I guess I’ve never known those days. Paying up front seems normal for me.”

“See? And that’s part of how the rules worm their way into society. Time will come when nobody remembers how things used to be. What’ll happen if the coins ever go away?”

“You mean if the town gets sacked?”

“Just for example.”

“So you have a plan for surviving that?”

“Course I gots a plan! I run away, faster than they can chase me.”

Well, that was a bust. Flash Step may move faster than an arrow, but nobody could flash step all day – unless, somewhere, there was someone who could.

I slapped my legs. “Short legs, I’ll need a better plan than that.”

“You come up with one, you let old Skelios know.”

“I’m busy trying to figure out how even one of us survives.”

“That’s easy. You survive by surviving, by being willing to do what the dead folks won’t.”

No. That wasn’t my path. There were-

Actually, why was I following anyone’s rules? Truthspeaker. I shall never lie. All I had to do was undo that class, and I could live as Skelios could.

But- everything else I had was built on the development points that class provided me. I would effectively be starting out with all my classes reset to zero level, zero XP. Wasn’t that how it worked?

The truth is, I really didn’t want to find out. I didn’t want to lose ANY of my classes.

Even if I lost them all, my Inherent Longevity imposed a fairly hefty divisor all on its own.

Not wanting to reset was, in its way, a trap – and every XP or DP I earned strengthened that trap.

#

It was the fourth day out from Narrow Valley when I saw the first scout. Diamond was walking with us by then, but she still had a bandage on her cheek.

He was just a speck, a rider atop a distant hill. But he was there.

.....

We kept double watches that night, but there was no other sign of trouble.

“Teach me magic.” Black Snake said.

“I thought you knew magic.”

“Spells. Tricks. One-offs. Teach me MAGIC.”

“Okay, the first thing you need to know is that even though you’re made of magic, that using magic can still hurt you.”

“Stupid things. Teach me magic, not stupid things.”

“I’m not going to teach you magic if you’re just going to hurt yourself doing it.”

“Why would I hurt myself?”

I drew forth my knife. “Okay, magic is like this tool. I can use it, so long as I hold only the handle. If I grab it by the blade, I could hurt myself.”

“Physical things are stupid. Physical things are not magic.”

“No, but just as I can hurt myself if I use this knife wrong, you can hurt yourself by using magic wrong.”

“That is ... not entirely stupid. Proceed.”

“Okay, you need to think in order to direct magic, tell it what to do, right?”

“Do I?”

“Well, okay, I do. And magic, when I use it, burns that part of my mind.”

“Physical minds are stupid. Spiritual minds are more resilient than physical minds.”

“Good, then you’ll be able to protect yourself better than I am. Let’s start with lynchpins.”

“The stupid words? Hear my plea?”

“Yes, that’s one. It’s like a knife handle. It’s something I touch, something I do, something I know that I use to touch the magic instead of touching it directly.”

“Hrm.”

“Then there’s the name, something that holds the shape, the form, the purpose of the spell I’m invoking.”

“Shroud.” She said, matter of factly.

“Yes, like Shroud. Spirits of night, powers of darkness, hear my plea, grant my wish! Draw forth the power of mana, and create a region of Darkness! Shroud!”

The night around us grew dimmer, but my patrol took me beyond the edge of the newly shadowed area.

She spat out a glob of Shadow mana, and it expanded to cover a smaller region to similar effect.

“Same thing.” She said. “Not magic, just a trick.”

“The base effect is the same.” I agreed. “But look at my area as opposed to yours. We both used one mana, but is my area not larger?”

“Yes, why?”

“And it will last longer.” I said. “Because that mana is structured, given a purpose.”

“Still just mana.” She said.

“Yes, it is still mana, just as this chainmail is just metal. It is reshaped, but it is still the same. That shaping, that is magic.”

“Physical thing Rhishisikk might not be as stupid as other physical things. Black Snake bored now, see you before dawn.”

“Sure thing. See you.”

#