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22.82% Born a Monster / Chapter 159: Servant of the Axe, 59 - Drumhead Court

Capítulo 159: Servant of the Axe, 59 - Drumhead Court

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 59

Drumhead Court

With the exception of one mother and her husband, who showed up to collect their son, swearing that he would be in court shortly after dawn, the night passed without incident. We did have to gag the children afterward, but generally speaking the weather was light rain, and we could repair our hammocks.

We did bundle up our belongings and take them with us, and Dimmihammas was on watch from a few trees over. Just in case.

"You can't march us around tied up like this and with our willies out. That's cruel and unusual punishment."

"We SHOULD chop their willies off as rapists." Madonna said.

"Less talking, more walking." Gamilla said, yanking on the rope that tied their wrists to each other.

Rather than being offended, the local girls took note of and mocked the genitals of the captives.

Their parents were there, with disapproving glances, and pants.

Serving as the jarl's voice was a gray-haired and bearded man named Sindre Eriksen. He was dressed in layers of linen and cotton, and muscled more like a village champion than village elder.

"Let me do the talking." Gamilla said. "I've studied law, and you come across as… just let me do the talking."

Rather than quote everything said, let me summarize. The fact that this happened outside the town walls didn't matter at all.

The parents and criminals spoke first, painting us as abductors and kidnappers, who shunned normal society and were otherwise suspicious.

Gamilla spoke, painting them as vandals and would-be murderers and rapists. "And you lot would have honored them for this, to show the strength of Norvik over foreigners." She ended.

And then, there were a few questions asked by Sindre, which were answered briefly.

He stroked his mustache. "Boys will be boys." He said. "But what is shameful is that this matter is even here, in court. Do ANY present desire to fight the outsiders for perceived loss of honor?"

"I'll gladly take..." sack boy was cuffed by his father.

"Silence, boy. Adults are talking."

"As they were caught in the act, value or equivalent goods are owed to the foreigners." Sindre said.

"I can fix up their tent and other fabrics, better than new." A seamstress said.

There was a smith, and a net mender, and others. In the end, the boys owed us only a few tin. The inn that claimed they had no open beds would host us until our tent was repaired.

"Now," said Sindre, "as to the other matter, kidnapping. Does any present deny these weapons are sharpened to inflict actual damage? Good, then I find that the outsiders have acted with restraint and decorum, since they have been provoked."

He got a cruel smile. "Now, if you can just present your camping permit…"

"What is the fine?" Gamilla asked.

"Fine? This isn't some barbarian realm where coin is valued over blood. You shall be granted a camping permit, good for all Norvik-claimed lands… but you shall do us a kindness, first."

Gamilla squinted. "What manner of kindness?"

"A simple affair." Sindre said. "There is a wolf of unusual size. Surely named champions such as yourselves will have no problem bringing a mere beast to heel."

#

Eating a lot is expected of champions and heroes in Norvik culture. Being able to eat as much as three normal men… not so much. I could see the innkeep and his wife looking at me sideways.

"Bastard. We walked right into his trap." Gamilla said.

"Knowing what we do now, how would we have avoided it?" I asked.

"We couldn't have." Madonna said. "I'd be surprised if camping permits actually exist."

Gamilla's nostrils flared. "They had better. I intend to get a full suite of papers."

Kismet leaned back, sipping on a mug of mead. "We have nothing but theory for the next two days. Either this Fenris thing is friendly or it isn't. We won't know which until we find it, or hey until it finds us."

"Hey, guys. Family's important to these guys, right?" Narces asked.

"What are you thinking, Narces?" I asked

"Well, if the governor has a habit of killing families, there may be families allied to those. They can't be happy with the situation."

I shrugged. "If we have time to look into that, then we have time to look into that."

"Mapping out bloodlines for any of these colonies is a work of weeks if not months." Madonna said. "Besides, if they aren't hiding their heads, Findseth and his cronies would have taken them off."

"I don't understand how someone like that holds power." Kismet said. "If he's hated that much…"

"Ah, but he is feared more." Madonna said. "Never underestimate the value of intimidation."

"Look, we're going to overthrow a government. If we're not staying here to rule it, we need to be of a mind who's going to be governor of this colony."

"I support Sindre." Gamilla said.

"Well, then, let's be sure of who he is, and that he really is the candidate we want for the position. Who supports him, whom he is allied to, that manner of thing. And…"

"And?" Kismet asked.

"And we should have a backup candidate or two just in case he's strongly allied to the Findseths. Or just… someone we can't stand being in charge here."

"Igrun Sivert." She said. "I'd like to look into who she is, and who she was before her family was crushed. If we make her the mayor, then we've accomplished restoring her status in Norvik society."

"Romance novels, but I concur it's worth looking into." Madonna said.

"I must be missing something." Narces said. "If Norvik is a warrior culture, won't they want a warrior in charge?"

"Women can also be warriors." I said. "This isn't something we need to do in the next week or so, and it's something we need to do right rather than fast. So, let's gather what information we can, where we can."

#

"So, you want to wield an axe?" Thorfin asked me. He was a retired warrior who sometimes taught the axe to young warriors.

"I want to learn what the axe is to a Norvik. Or, if that's too much to learn in two days, at least how to hold it."

"I can teach you how to hold the thing, aye. And perhaps how to strike with it as well. But first, tell me why. Why do you wish to learn of the axe?"

"I can't very well serve the Bearer of the Legendary Axe if I am ignorant of what that means. Learning what an axe is, how it prefers to be used, this seems to be a critical thing."

"And why do you speak of the axe as though it is a living thing, a thing with feelings?"

"For the same reason we name weapons, I suppose. You can't use a sword like a spear, or a spear like an axe, or an axe like a hammer. Each must be used differently with a shield than without. I need to understand how the axe is meant to be used, and perhaps more importantly, how it is not to be used."

"Well, little steps. Show me how you would hold… Ah, no, lad. That's the carpenter's hold. You can swing an axe like that, but to fight with an axe, you need to hold here … and here."

And there was the axeman's stance, which I kept going into my knife stance by reflex. One could parry with the haft, but blocking steel with wood was just the sort of thing you did only if your meaty flesh would be hit otherwise.

As I may have mentioned, it is a more aggressive weapon. It is prone to strikes rather than parries, and though you can thrust with some axes, most are meant to be swung in arcs. Long, slow, powerful arcs. Which makes them easy to block with a shield.

And the maintenance! Axes, like hammers, tend to come loose from their hafts when used. Worse when used wrong. That was even before one considered the blade itself, which was difficult to keep sharp when it was cleaving shield or bone or… well, anything else.

But yes, it was the tool of the berserker. Of the warrior who wanted things to be over. I could see how Rakkal's personality matched that of his weapon, for better and for worse.

Damn it, but Hortiluk was clever. Oh, perhaps I should mention him. He's the red-skinned hobgoblin who did a bunch of the political and espionage stuff that Rakkal and his siblings just weren't good at. He walked the line of treason, and laid plans that would kick off only after Rakkal died.

An axe is not a defensive weapon. Even clad in field plate, if Rakkal did everything himself, sooner or later, he would fall in combat.

Once I understood this, I knew I needed to wrap things up down here in the Isles, and get back home. Rakkal needed a shield, and he wasn't likely to seek one out on his own.

#


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
Mike_Kochis Mike_Kochis

Tried a chapter with multiple uses of the same theme, happy with how it turned out.

Shout out to: xueren, Yam_Yam, and Daoist_1000pine, our top three power stone donators.

0/8 bonus chapters owed before the book locks.

Due to full time employment (not as a web author), I will no longer be counting late chapters as a cause for bonus chapters.

Capítulo 160: Servant of the Axe, 60 - Seeking Fenris

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 60

Seeking Fenris

I may have done a dis-service in implying that each island had one and only one distinguishing feature. This is, of course, false. The northern half of Lavin Buscala's island hosted an old growth forest, the kind that is choked with underbrush, with areas where the sun just never reaches the ground.

This was the region where the Cousin of Fenris had made his lair.

There had been a number of attempts, both with and without the jarl, to bring the Fenris to heel. As a general rule, about one third of the hunters died. Sometimes the wolf was wounded, but more often, it was not.

It seemed to the islanders that the Fenris had magical abilities, to blend with wood or snow or fog, to shrug off normal weapons, and the fearsome ability to score critical hits.

In other words, it had a stealth class, like Hunter. And something that helped to protect it, such as wards against mundane weapons. All of which pointed to a very smart, very resourceful prey.

Try as I might, I couldn't think of the Fenris as an enemy. Well, it helped that THE Fenris, scion of the breed was supposedly a child of Loki, may a leaf attempt to smack him in the eye. But it was just another kind of folk, feared and hated by people, a being caught on the wrong side of the mythology of the Legendary Heroes.

And who were they, to have such an influence on our culture and history? Now that I knew that people native to Athal could wield the legendary weapons, it seemed to me…

"Narces, I had a thought."

"That we're running in circles and haven't seen even a normal wolf? Yeah, I've had that same thought, boss."

"No, I mean our world has some eight thousand years of recorded history."

"No, Rhishi! Someone hit him in the eye. He needs to focus."

"In all that time, why is Rakkal the first one to wield one of the Legendary Weapons? It seems like something people have been trying since they were first forged."

Gamilla made a move to ram her spear butt into my eye, which I dodged. "ENOUGH! We have been here, wandering around, watching our food decrease for two days. Hunt something, if you've lost track of our prey."

"I haven't lost track of our prey. This is an area where the Fenris has looped around over its own trail, deliberately confusing its tracks."

"So are we close or far?" Gamilla asked.

"I can make a case for either." I said.

Madonna snorted, but she seemed oddly at peace since we'd entered the deep wood. "I concur. I have seen rabbits and pigs and birds, and there is enough food for the foxes and owls. Let us take a break from that, and eat a hot meal."

My stomach grumbled.

"Good." Said Kismet, "Then it's decided."

Narces and I sighted a deer, but returned to camp with only a startled coney rabbit to show for it.

"Huh. What's a snow rabbit doing this far from the mountain?" Gamilla asked, as we set to butchering it.

#

It should have been a question we put more concern into, but we were busy carving out portions, and returning the heart to the land, and making a mess of the fur (we tried to clean it, but my new utility knife had a different edge than a skinning knife needed).

Oh, and the fetching and boiling of water, the chopping of herbs and vegetables, and the endless imbuing of energies required.

Nettles and pine seeds seemed to take and hold Ice mana, even when heated. Kismet and I liked the sensation, but the others of our party did not.

"Pig." Kismet said, when we were washing out our dishes by the river.

"What do mean? I see no pig."

"You've already eaten the entrails and organs." She said. "Even the bones."

"But I haven't touched…" I sprinted off to the location, spotted the tracks.

"Looks fresh, boss."

"It is." I said. "Not more than twenty paces from where we were eating, so was the Fenris."

"Wait." Madonna said, "You mean that thing you've been tracking has actually been playing with us for these two days?"

"It's probably watching us now, then." Gamilla said.

"Yes, to both statements. The Fenris has watched us, taken our measure, and doesn't consider us a threat."

"So we're just waiting for it to get hungry?" asked Dimmihammas. "As the person closest to bite-sized in this group, I don't find that comforting at all."

"Ancient wood, I am Rhishisikk, Shaman and worker of lumber, the corpses of your children. I seek only to partake of your being, to soak in the sensations of your existence. Commune With Nature."

And by the gods, the wood was full of creatures, and plants. And, briefly, just briefly, one large wolf. Well, I had an ability that let me hide from Detect Animals, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised he had one, too.

"And?" Narces asked.

"Same Hunter ability I use to avoid detection by nature magic." I said. "Close, that way. But I'd have moved by now."

"So, no good."

"It wouldn't be good… if we were to continue hunting it as an animal, as a beast. Gamilla, you're up."

"Up? What do you mean, I'm up?"

"You're the one of us skilled at hunting people. I know we're looking for somewhere with food and water."

Gamilla shrugged. "Purer water closer to the source. Back upstream, and uphill. Daring bastard, living closer to the lord hunting it, if that's the case."

Later that day, Narces cursed. "Second time I've seen him off to the left, but he's gone by the time I string my bow."

"If I'm right, Narces, it's just trying to distract us now that we're on its actual trail. It'll get more violent as we get closer to its lair."

"How comforting." Dimmihammas said.

#

That night, we pitched camp by the river. In spite of promises, we noticed several places where the new seams leaked cold.

I looked at the paltry fish of the river, incredibly tiny. It was hard to believe there had been a time when I was smaller, and then when I had looked upon them as a full day's nutrition.

"I can't even tell what phase the moon is." Narces complained, his bow safe in his bed. "I don't mislike the spear, it's saved my life time and again. But compared to my bow, it just… it's not my BOW."

"I think I understand." And that was just how addictive a magically attuned bow was. How much greater must the sense of power be with a legendary weapon?

In theory, I knew how to make one. Just by saving up for the System Reticule ability, I had over a dozen development points. But… I really wanted that reticule.

Wait, had I become addicted to my System?

Well, I knew I was addicted to sleep. I could do without for one night, but usually that was all.

I dreamed that the Fenris snuck into our camp, took the head of Kismet or Dimmihammas into its jaws. I woke when it bit Kismet, but Dimmihammas bled a black whirlpool, in which stars died and the cold itself screamed in pain. It reached for me…

I couldn't get back to sleep after that one. Partly because there wasn't a sense of fear from his Taint, it was a feeling that could be summed up "at last".

The ability to talk to my dream self wasn't until Shaman level three; that was… maybe years? Actually, what class was closest to level two?

[Manservant: 1, 135/300 XP to level 2]

Of course. The first class I unlocked by doing things, the class I somehow needed but never wanted. And if I wanted to clean and scrub and mend things for the rest of my life, there were some pretty useful… wait…

[Dishpan Hands: Corrosive Resistance: 1. Protects from up to three points of Corrosive damage (single damage source).]

[Base cost: 6]

[Use Per Day cost: 1, minimum 1 UPD]

[Total cost: 7 (minimum)]

That was something that any worker in the chemical plant I had helped to build could have used. And it was just THERE, in a class unrelated to Industrialist.

But in any event, we made it up the side of the mountain.

"I smell death." Gamilla said.

There was a cave, and the remains of a family of bears outside. The flies and insects were at work on what little remained.

"Oh dear." I said.

"Yeah, things just got more complicated." Gamilla said.

"How so?" Narces asked.

I walked forward toward the cave, as a dark black wolf pup came to the entrance and began barking at us.

"Because sometimes women will become warriors." I said, "Or, when their children need food, hunters."

"He's so cute!" Kismet said, advancing with a piece of leftover coney from last night's stew. "You want some meat, little guy?"

"Kismet, no!" I moved quickly enough to knock her aside.

"You ASS!" she cried, even as the mother Fenris clamped down on my extended arm, removing it at the elbow.

#


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
Mike_Kochis Mike_Kochis

Honestly, I have a few friends I would give up an arm for, even knowing I can't grow them back.

Shout out to: xueren, Yam_Yam, and Daoist_1000pine, our top three power stone donators.

Daily shout to Daoist_1000pine, our top daily power stone donor.

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