Born a Monster

390 290 – Southern Shor have many times mentioned how villages pretend to be towns, and towns cities. The Port of Miletus was... well, it was literally that, just a port with a warehouse and enough housing to host the workers. There were sections of hillside where once tents had been pitched, but those were mostly gone, now.

The port itself was three long piers, each capped with a squat structure hosting two siege engines of the trebuchet variety.

The wards, though... Some poor hill shaman and his kin had probably been enlisted to make them. They were poorly made, and falling apart, and at one point I could see flowers blooming from between boards. Still... impact, fire, deflection, acid, resistance to natural magic... they weren’t entirely useless.

I made my way down to the slightly less steep grade that bordered the port. Then toward the central pier, the longest, the one with the largest building at the end. The empire’s flag flew there, and I expected to find Miletus as well.

Instead, an Uruk warrior whose armor smelled of salt was in charge. “Steragos.” he said, extending a meaty hand.

I took it, gave him a firm handshake.

"You missed Miletus by about two weeks. When word came that his brother was in the Centaur Plains, it also came with orders for him to join them.” he said.

"What is the situation, here?” I asked. “Those ships appear to be anchored.”

"They are indeed.” he said. “They tried a landing that first day, and then exchanged siege fire for about a day afterward, and then they took to blockading the port. Some days, a vessel will turn east and depart, but always to be replaced by another. Whole lot of wasted effort, if you ask me.”

.....

It didn’t take a genius. “Almost no merchant craft, then?”

"Well, two. But no, not so much as we had hoped. Turns out when your new nation has a reputation for being all hunters and shepherds, there’s not much call for your trade goods. I like my station, but honestly, the empire should have built up Seacrest instead of this place.”

"What ever did happen to the kobold scouts? The ones they were sworn to provide the empire with in exchange for that land?”

He shrugged. “We have our two. They found some cave out in the hills, and keep patrolling in case the Thorns ever land troops. I know I would have, in their position.”

I took another look at the vessels blockading us through Mystic Vision. “That one.” I said, pointing at it. “Would it help if I sank it on my way out of port?”

"Well, I mean, not in the long run, but sure, poke them in the eye if you can. Why not one of the other two?”

"They shirked on wards, or else didn’t maintain them. I think I can open the hull and flood it.”

He blinked. “That seems to be the sort of thing they’d exactly defend against.”

"It does, but they didn’t. Not for that vessel.”

He wiped a cheek. “I urge caution, it reeks far too much of a trap.”

I shrugged. “Well, I’ll learn that tomorrow. It could be that they just figured we don’t have any natural adepts who know how to swim.”

"Doesn’t seem likely, if the other two are warded.”

"No,” I agreed, “which is another reason I intend to day that only after a full night’s sleep.”

The invocation to split wood isn’t that much different from the one to meld wood. I left them with a small breach on the starboard side of the bow, and the port side of the stern. Although I’m certain it was a morning to remember for them, it wasn’t enough to actually sink the vessel. That would happen later at... ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself again.

I made my way west, away from the rising sun. Titanic Swimming had a short duration, and a cost such that I’d debated making it an inherent versus the uses per day to keep it active for the trip. In the end, I just didn’t have the properly aspected experience for the former, and only enough to buy eight charges of ten minutes each by the latter method.

Hunter offered me a Strong Swimmer ability, but on inspection it just boosted my Swimming skill, not the actual speed itself.

But it was hard to remain in a bad mood. I was at full health, and the sun was warm, and it was starting to feel good to just be in the ocean rather than plodding about on land. That said, the two legged form useful for walking upright isn’t the ideal form for swimming.

Not that I was about to evolve the transformation into a shark or squid, just that I realized I was exercising just for the sake of getting in exercise. Well, that and to avoid the folds of the hills. In the end, I wasn’t going to save as much time as I’d originally planned.

That, and the smaller fish were only worth one nutrition each. Seaweed, a paltry vegetable, same. I found myself eating all manner of kelps and algae, preying upon crustaceans and foul-tasting anemones.

Not that it was difficult, when compared with land travel. It just wasn’t as easy as I had imagined it. Once I passed Seacrest, I found myself on land as often as in the water.

And I came to the estuary, a bean-shaped pool of water where I had been born. And, apparently, another generation after me.

We had turned on each other for food, a process the Brood of the Kraken had called a culling. This generation... the remains of a fire, the shells and scales and other remnants, the pieces of the coral meticulously broken off...

The hoofprints in the sand.

This generation of my kind had been eaten by centaurs.

There were three survivors, all in one System group, each pretending to be part of the coral reef.

THAT was worth enough to purchase another use of Titanic swimming, to provide them each with several servings of food, pre-killed for their digestion.

And then...

Then, I sat down where the sand began to become grass, and thought. Five centaur had slain Eihtfuhr, the first father I had known. Five. The average clan had ten times that many soldiers.

<a> Manahuru reminded me.

<a> “Angel of Sobek, or other supernatural listener as may intercept this, hear my plea, my heartfelt prayer.” I began. “I am new this, Rhishisikk, Shaman and Dreamwalker, Hunter and Naturalist... You know what, screw this prayer bullshit. I don’t need help from you to track these folk. Never mind.”

<a> [Sobek has assigned you a quest: Avenge your people.] Yeah, I didn’t

<a> I walked on all fours, keeping my profile low while tracking them. I didn’t have to track them far.

<a> “Starmane.” I hissed, when I came upon one of their scouts. He was far, far away, but he was atop a mild rise that served as an excellent vantage point.

<a> Starmane was, to my good fortune, a smaller clan, perhaps fifty people, half of them youths. Wait, that couldn’t be right. But I looked about the camp. Six warriors.

<a> More than enough to kill me, but none of them looked like Sagitarii.

<a> Manahuru urged.

<a> It was still a tricky bit of stealth, moving slow enough not to draw the attention of the night guards (adolescent males who were clearly not volunteers, but also not blind) yet fast enough to get in and out before dawn.

<a> There was no scent to give away the actual culprits. I had no stray hairs from the beach, no misplaced piece of jewelry or other keepsake. Manahuru and I both laid seeds, either in the living or in their food supplies.

<a>

And then, quest not accomplished, it was time to get out. The last thing I wanted was for some foraging party to find me. (Especially since my armor was still in my inventory at this point.)

I considered a more direct and violent approach, but that was doomed to failure. Not on the original kill, but that would get the whole tribe together, hunting me as I was hunting them. Warriors or not, I had little illusions about who would win, even if they kept the children in the back.

The children! I could... no, no, I couldn’t.

I mean, I wasn’t trying to spare them, but I couldn’t TARGET the children. Heck, I was little more than a child myself, if one with the raw statistics an adult would envy.

Actually, what WERE the default statistics of an adult centaur? They had always seemed stronger and faster than I, and certainly more durable. But what was that, in terms of what was possible?

Well, I had a Strength rating of six, and the adolescent in the last battle had seemed about that strong. Add one Might for adulthood...

Seven Might. Twenty-four base damage, roughly 120 base health...

I was so SCREWED.

It was a Furdian design, that took more engineering and maintenance, but provided a longer range.

No, I really wanted it there. I could moderate the color of my scales somewhat, but polished mail just doesn’t look natural and is easy to spot.

<a>