Born a Monster

Chapter 96: Born A Monster, Chapter 96 – Burn the Witch

Born A Monster

Chapter 96

Burn the Witch

I’d like to say that I found some clever way to free myself, but I didn’t.

Magic is difficult to cast when tied up; invocation is difficult when you’re coughing due to all the smoke.

Ignition to burn the ropes off? Turns out that abilities like Boil, Boil won’t activate to help you with magical backlash. Or maybe it works differently for you.

Move Water to extinguish the flames? I really needed a well right there, within my invocation range.

.....

Move Fire? That would have been awesome, but not a spell to develop while in the middle of a large bonfire.

Now, a spell like Move Oil or Purify Wood would both work; they’d piled up logs without sufficient kindling. Again, not development time.

Remember how much I went on about Smothering? Yeah, it still hadn’t gotten any better, and my understanding of what was going on didn’t help make it any better.

Oh, I tried the normal stuff that the crowd seemed to like. Thrashing, screaming. That didn’t help.

Oh, and my knife was somewhere in with the wood, from where I’d cunningly tried to cut my wrists free earlier and dropped it with equal cunning.

In short, I was well and truly doomed.

Up until the townsfolk outside the knight’s compound began putting ladders up against the wall so the town watch could take the walls, raise the portcullis, and storm in.

I suppose I shouldn’t be offended that they cut the town councilors free before me. I mean, it was only one Envy point, and my sin armor kept me from gaining it.

Stupid sin armor. My Envy rating was still zero; I’d need to figure out why.

For now, I coughed, and didn’t complain as people beat me to put out my clothing and gambeson.

Both were ruined, of course.

[Your health is 7/30.]

I had statistics that were still at two; I needed to work on that, as well.

Ugh. Lack of time, lack of resources, lack of development points...

And I still needed to figure out what those Quest Points were good for.

For the moment, though, I coughed and remembered what proper air was like.

“Burn the witch!” someone in the crowd screamed. Others took up the call.

“Let’s get you out of here.” A watchman said.

I coughed and tried to move the direction he was pushing me.

Incidentally, Witch or Warlock is an Eldritch magical class, and doesn’t necessarily involve Taint.

But then you could say the same of Necromancer, and Death being one of the four Taints...

At any rate, they swept me along streets, through a gate, and out to where the town council was re-convening in the country.

“Wait here.” He said, almost dropping me into a plush chair.

Somewhere along the line, I’d used up all of my Fleet of Foot uses, and my fatigue was coasting about two points from where I’d have risked falling unconscious.

A manservant in reddish purple stopped in the doorway. “Might I prepare a bath and some fresh clothes for you sir? I’m afraid auburn red is the only thing we have in your size.”

I sneezed. What came out wasn’t as black as it had been.

“Auburn will be fine, thank you.” I told him.

#

I was coating myself with a second layer of soap when Lord Oriestes-son let himself into the room.

“Generally speaking, it is polite to let someone know you’re about to sack their city and see if they want to redeem a favor.”

“It’s not sacked.”

“A technicality. What did you load into that catapult?”

“An acid. It won’t eat the stone itself, but if you dissolve enough of the rune, the magic does whatever it wants.”

“Turning the greatest strength of our walls into their weakness. That sort of change is worth a favor, if it comes before it compromises our defenses.”

I shrugged. “First, if he had to, Rakkal would have just broken the gate down with the Legendary Axe.”

“The ... Legendary?”

“Yup. Rakkal is the Axe Hero, gods help all who oppose him.”

“I see what you did there. Linguistically artful.”

“Thank you. Ask me your questions, I’ll tell you no lies.”

“First implies there were other points.”

“Second, I thought you knew, already. Security was lax enough at the warehouse where we made that stuff.”

“I seem to have problems contacting my son’s agents in Montu’s Glory.”

I blinked. “Have you tried dreamwalking? It’s a shaman power set.”

His lips were pressed thin. “Explain it to me.”

So I did. Limitations, advantages, costs, risks – everything I myself knew.

He stroked across his lips. “That is infernally useful. And you use this yourself?”

“As Geralt should have told you I did for Katherine.”

“Geralt’s skills lie in ... other areas.”

“Good to know. What else would you like to know?”

“ARE you tainted?”

“Not a single point. I try to stay away from things that might taint me, given I still haven’t been able to sin as much as I might like.”

“Give it time; you’re still young. What does Whitehill have to offer, that Rakkal even wants it?”

“You mean what points should the town council stress to get the best terms it can?”

“In a nutshell.”

“They’ll want to stress the output of the coal and iron mines. How quickly new walls can be built up around the river, or some manner of aqueduct from the river up to the current wall.”

“Whatever for?”

“It’s not a secret, or won’t be for long.” I pulled a book from my inventory, handed it to him.

“What am I looking at?”

“Plans for a smeltery and forge. It’s a science from across the Daggers called Industry.”

“I’ve heard of it, but the sheer scale boggles the mind.”

“It takes time to wrap your head around. But if you examine the third from the last page, you’ll get the figures of what will be produced each day.”

“Which line?”

“Hm?”

“Which of these lines, and how much time to change between them?”

“Oh, when it’s finished, it will be producing all of that.”

“Gods, you could equip an army of heavy infantry with this in a month. And heavy cavalry in a season.”

“Yes. He wants his empire to have a massive army, and he’s willing to let Whitehill surrender with honor in order to get it.”

#

There were other things discussed, but none that belong here.

I dried myself and carefully donned the garments provided.

“These terms,” Lord Banks said (after introductions had been made), “are utterly ridiculous.”

“Whitehill refuses them outright?” I asked.

.....

“We do.”

“Very well. Thank you for your time.” I pushed my chair away from the table. A guardsman behind me pushed it back.

He smirked; it crinkled the edges of his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“If we’ve nothing to discuss, then we’ve nothing to discuss.”

“Oh, we have things to discuss.”

“Well, then please begin.”

“Firstly, how long have you been tainted?”

“I have never been, am not now, and hope to put off forever becoming tainted.”

“Lies.”

I waved a hand. “Truthspeaker. Test that if you have to.”

“We don’t. You were observed coughing up a black substance.”

“If you know how to be exposed to oil smoke without coughing up a black substance, please let me know.”

“Your scales are black, in places.”

“And there are horses of black. Coal, used by blacksmiths, is black. In nature...”

He rolled a glass orb across the table to me. “Pick that up.”

I picked it up. It was warm to the touch, and that warmth beat like a mouse’s heart, although slower. “Am I supposed to channel magic through this?”

Lady Ethelred spoke, “It is clearly broken. It should be filling with a black cloud.”

“Perhaps you have a partially tainted individual, to test the orb on?”

Lord Banks looked horrified. “Of course not! Taint is insidious, and we destroy all infected with it!”

“Then perhaps you have another orb, one that glows when there is no taint in a person?”

“How would such a thing be made?” Lady Estridge asked.

“I imagine through the Detect Taint and Light spells, both of them common to divine casters.” I said. “Are we done with this nonsense?”

“Recite for us a story.” Said Lady Ethelred.

I recited the centaur tale of the origin of the Sagittarius class.

Lady Estridge rubbed her eyes. “It’s so hard to tell.”

“Bah, we have him now.” Ethelred said. “What is your Charima statistic, sir?”

“It’s one.”

“One?”

“One. I’ve tried to find ways to raise it, but most are just lesser evolutions that raise only part of the statistic.”

“Evolutions?”

So I explained what evolutions were, and how they worked for me.

Lord Banks slapped the table. “Mutation of form! A confession from his own lips!”

“I don’t think...” Lord Morthammer tried to say, but he was cut off.

“Taint of Chaos.” Lady Ethelred confirmed. “Let us kill him immediately.”

“The morning will do just fine.” Lord Banks said. “When he tries to run, we’ll know he’s guilty.”

“May I at least know how I am to be executed?”

“And have you evolve to survive it? I think not.”

Well, okay, he had me there.

#

Well, obviously, I ran. Or more properly speaking, I stole a horse (after asking if any of them were sentient, which none were) and rode off into the darkness.

Don’t ask me how that worked. It was almost like their archers were near-blind in the darkness or something.

I rode hard, and bareback, and as though demons themselves were after me.

Humans are just crazy.

I couldn’t brush the horse’s coat clean, but I provided her with water when she was thirsty, and found her tasty flowers, berries, and such in addition to quality grass. I could make do on the older, more questionable stuff.

It took two days to catch up with the army, and I nearly got perforated by the rear guard.

From there, we moved slowly, as we were returning with wounded. So there was no forced march, and it took us two days before our ragged survivors walked through the north gate of Narrow Valley.

“Holy crap of the gods.” Gormfaith said. “I need to find an aurochs and sacrifice it.”

“Was that rougher than you expected?”

“I expected we wouldn’t be back here at all.” He said. “I owe you an apology.”

I shrugged. “What for?”

“That immediate counter attack; it was the right move. Not one man in ten would be here now if they’d been free to ambush us daily.”

“That was more your doing than mine. I’d have left them using spears, or some such nonsense.”

“Still, hell of a way to blood new troops. They’ll need the week or so of time until we head back.”

“So far as I know, they have it. It’ll take that long to forage enough food to head back north.”

Rakkal, when I made my report, was less understanding. “Explain this again. They did what?”

“They refused your terms, larger brother.”

He gnashed his teeth. “Their gatehouse was destroyed?”

“Yes.”

“And they refused to surrender?”

“They did.”

“And they know that I am here, not even three days away?”

“The conversation never got to that point.”

“Then you grab the conversation by the nose and FORCE it to that point!”

“They decided to execute me for being tainted.”

He took his axe into his left hand. “And are you?”

“Of course not!”

“Good, good. Sister Uma, please ready all the troops.”

“All of the troops?”

“All of the troops.”

“Brother, indulge my sloth. I don’t want to siege this town again. If we’re not leaving at least a token force behind, then at least let us take the gate doors and portcullis with us.”

His eyes widened initially, but then returned to their normal appearance. “You, my sister, may mock me in this manner. We are blood. Let none of you others learn from this example.”

“Of course not, sir!” said one of the Uruk officers.

“Never.”

“What example?” asked the hobgoblin chieftain.

“Uma is in charge! We march tonight!”

“We march at dusk tomorrow!” Uma shouted.

Rakkal sighed. “Family!”

#