Chapter 16 - Back To The Mud (Patreon)

I had to be right. At the very least, it'd explain Greck's comment as well as the weird reputation description. Nerit had to have its own collection of casteless - Anathema, such as myself. And if my speculations weren't baseless, I'd actually start at Liked reputation with them, giving me a place to start. It wasn't as if I had any other plans, so I took off immediately. My goal was pretty vague - I had an inkling they'd either kick casteless kobolds to the ruins on the outer circle of the town, or exile them from the town outright. I hoped it was the former though - I really didn't relish the thought of going back into the woods.

I had not gotten very far - a few minutes at most. The houses on either side were still sturdily constructed from stone, but the ornamental fineries present on all buildings in the centre of town were not as prominent here. Suddenly, a shout from behind made me turn around. I spat a lengthy string of curses. Behind me, I could make out the tiny form of Talen, with his hunter friends spread out on either side of him. I couldn't picture him trying to catch up to me for a nice chat and cup of tea, and quickly decided to go for the better part of valor, and started running. Twenty paces, and I was struck by a couple of ugly realizations. There was no way, I'd be getting away by running. Even with their short legs, I wasn't gaining any headway, and my stamina was draining fast. And they were out for blood - the priest might've said that I was off limits, but these guys didn't seem to care. An arrow whipped between my stomach and arm, drawing a shallow, painful line along my side and almost making me keel over mid-stride. All right. If they wanted to play it that way...

A hurried moment later, I spotted a decent spot to my side, as two stone buildings were set relatively close to each other, looming on ahead and narrowing down the passage. I concentrated and managed to pull slightly ahead in a sprint - and then hit the brakes, bracing the violin as I turned about and started playing. It was not a moment too soon, either. The lead kobold was putting his head down, focusing on speed and just fifteen meters behind me. The rest weren't too far behind, except for one slightly chubby specimen who was lagging behind. Him, I might even outpace by myself. With a triumphant yell, I let go off a Stun Blast, neatly engulfing all five leading kobolds. I rapidly made to turn about and run again, except...Talen - did - not - fall! He was clearly hit, but somehow managed to resist the worst of the effects. "Kill - you." he managed to force out between gritted teeth, as he moved towards me, his entire body twitching and shaking. The final kobold was approaching from behind, and with a sudden impulse I knew what to do. Raising my violin, I looked Talen defiantly in the eye and started playing. One long second later, a dark shape streaked from the violin - and went completely wide, disappearing behind him. Hands still twitching, he dropped his bow and pulled a small, businesslike dagger instead. "I'll - enjoy - this." he managed. I ignored him entirely and shouted: "Hold Talen back." to the kobold I'd cast Charm on. Regrettably, I didn't have time to enjoy watching him be manhandled, as I could see one of the downed kobolds start to rise. None the less, the surprised "Oof." from Talen, as he hit the ground forced a snigger from me, even as I was legging it.

I turned the nearest corner, and upped my pace. The ruins of the outskirts were growing near, and I was turning my head to watch the pursuit when something hit my leg. It didn't hurt, though, so I just kept running. Or tried to, at least. My legs refused to co-operate, and the ground rose to meet me, knocking any chance at contemplation out of my head. Vision swimming, I struggled to get back up before realizing that something was trapping my legs. Bolas. They'd used frigging bolas. In a frenzy of activity, I tried to disentangle myself from the tangled mess that engulfed my lower legs. I didn't get far though. A soft pattering sound was the only alert I had, before a scaled newcomer knocked me to the ground, shortly thereafter followed by the weight of two additional assailants. The struggle that followed was brief and rather one-sided, as the kobolds piled on me, held me down, and had me completely helpless in a spreadeagle position within seconds.

I am prone to bouts of introspection - I'm very well aware of that. This time around, I didn't have time for the full process of thinking through my current situation, what'd gone well, where I'd screwed up and what the logical steps were from here on. It was more a matter of gazing at the short, blood-drenched reptile who was walking slowly towards me and wondering just how I managed to ruin everything as completely as I had.

I might as well try: "So...Talen. Any way we can handle this peacefully?"

He bared his teeth and dropped his bow and dagger to the ground, showing off a long, bleeding gash alongside one forearm. "I had to put Mavek down. I've been hunting with him for more than ten years, and now he's dead. Because of you." 

All right. Friendship was off the table. I checked the blinking pop-up. Oh. And it was official too.

[Improved standing with Serune: 

You have sown the seeds for a fledgling enmity
Reward:
Establishing the basis of a mutual enmity: 100 clergy points]

So much for that idea. I looked around for any rescue operations, but there was none to be seen.

One of the kobolds who held me down apparently shared my misgivings, speaking a few crass words in the kobold language. His gestures were easy to understand, however. "Get on with it. We've got to hurry."

Talen barked a laugh, completely void of mirth. "Don't worry, I won't be long. To this freak, however, it will feel like an eternity."

He wasn't lying either. I was very pleased that Exogenics kept the pain settings as low as they did, because even at the 10 per cent they used, the pain I felt was hard to bear. The experience was weirdly personal as well, given that Talen had eschewed any weapons, opting instead to beat me to death solely with his feet, hands and claws. When finally my vision turned to grey, I sighed in relief at the sight of my body dropping to the ground in surrender and the, now familiar, words ‘You have died...’

I wasted no time, clicking "Respawn" right away, and experienced the usual bout of vertigo, as I disappeared and reappeared moments later in the central square I'd left less than fifteen minutes earlier.. My first decision was easy, though. I needed to get away and avoid being spotted by those bastards again. Walking the opposite direction from what I'd chosen earlier at a brisk pace, I tried to come up with a plan that held a slightly better chance of my survival than my previous one. Good news first: they had no clue I was a Reborn. Otherwise they'd have a someone camp the respawn point, ready to put me back to sleep. Bad news: I was probably one of two non-kobold persons within the city and half a meter taller than the average kobold. Inconspicuous was off the table. With that in mind, I raised the hood of my cape and hurried on, aiming to find me some other outcasts who wouldn't mind me slumming with them. Along the way, I was annoyed to discover that my damn necklace had gone missing. Again. Somebody needed to tell Exogenics that their Random Number Generator was broken. And the sheer thought of Talen pocketing my second best item was infuriating as all hells. And on top, I’d lost 100 experience points along with the point to Stun Blast I’d just gained. At least they let me keep the +1 to Charm Person. Oh, one more death like that, I’d be back to level 3 again.

Even at a brisk pace, it was easy to see where the true outskirts started. The center was a gathering of large stone buildings, intricately adorned with frieses and carvings. The buildings nearest from the center were a mixture of squat stone tenaments and solid timber houses with a varying degree of decoration. Moving further out, the neighborhood turned uglier, both in craftsmanship and atmosphere, as inexpertly constructed wooden houses were placed in between old stone ruins. It was hard to tell whether there was actually some sort of concentrated clean-up work in progress or whether people were just gutting the old buildings for materials. Still, many an old ruined house had been reduced to little more than a jumbled pile of refuse amid the worn foundations. Further out still, with the palisade clearly in sight, the occasional house had been replaced by an occasional lean-to or slapdash constructions interspersed among the ruins. The ruins themselves had clearly been picked over many times since then, and the entire scenery had an eerie feel to it. When I started walking, I'd see the occasional kobold. More often than not, they stared at me until I was out at sight, but now, a mere ten minutes later, there was not a soul to be seen.

I opted to go for the easy approach - ask whomever I could find. If they lived out here, odds were they'd be anathema like me and would be willing to help me, right? Ten minutes later, I had to admit that reality didn't exactly live up to my wishful thinking. Most of the dwellings were either long abandoned or at least vacant for the moment. The three inhabitants I did find, while also carrying the mark of Anathema, were of no help whatsoever. One stick-thin ancient kobold did nothing but stare out into eternity, and even the most insistent prodding didn't catch his attention. Another kobold, this one younger, but no less scruffy-looking, appeared to be in the midst of some sort of fit. He was shaking and spitting and raved at me until I left him alone. The final one, I almost passed by, until a weak cry from the dilapidated building attracted my attention. When I entered, however, the weary, tear-streaked face of a malnourished, dirty woman met my gaze, and I spotted two young ones, one playing in the dirt, and the other grabbing the legs of the woman, bawling. It quickly became apparent to me that she knew not a single word of common, but her upreaching, beseeching hands needed no translation. Cursing my weakness, I rummaged around in my inventory. Damnit. Darya was still holding on to the remainder of our provisions, and all I was left with were the handful of age-old pieces of bread that I'd received upon entering the game. I proffered two of the pieces upon her and backed rapidly out of the building.

Back in the rubble-filled street, I was scratching my head, wondering which way to go, when a voice shouted out in the distance. Instinctively, I started backing away, when a second, closer, voice, responded the first one. Crap. They were already onto me. I started running again, keeping close to the palisade and scanning everything I passed for a friendly face - or failing that, a decent place to hide till the heat was off. Neither seemed likely to appear though, and the rare face that looked out from shoddy buildings was quickly withdrawn. Somebody must've tipped off my pursuit though, because the shouting soon grew closer. I had to do something right now. Within moments, they'd spot me, and if they did - I wouldn't give good odds on my continued survival in Nerit. Frantically, I scanned the scene for even the most unlikely of hiding places, with nothing even remotely likely popping out at me.

To this day, I'm not sure what caught my eye. The building itself did not stand out from its neighbors. It looked like it had, ages ago, been a relatively large one-story building. Today, only two crumbling walls still stood, and the inside of what had once been a relatively large one-story building was reduced to a large pile of refuse with not a single thing to catch the attention. Except, somehow I found myself veering towards the building. Maybe it was my Perception skill subconsciously granting me some pointers. Maybe it was the Anathema mark sloppily painted on one of the walls next to other illegible scratches that could only be graffiti. Or maybe it was how the huge refuge pile still somehow allowed for a thin person to pass by unhindered to reach the area behind the pile, which would be hidden from view. I spared a couple of glances at the dirt floor, but there were no foot prints to be seen. Still, I pressed past the man-high pile of rocks, dirt and unidentifiable garbage - and found myself in a cul-de-sac, crammed into the corner where the two walls met with the garbage pile right behind me.

Meanwhile, the searching voices were growing nearer. There were at least three now, and I believed that I recognized Talen's grating voice as well. A voice in the back of my mind piped in, ‘We're dead man. Game over.’ and I spun around, looking frantically for some way out. Maybe I could climb the wall, drop on the other side once they passed the wall? At that low point, in the middle of looking for foot- and handholds I noticed something out of place. It was a door. A scuffed old wooden door still on the frame, flaking paint and all, that looked like it'd been thrown next to the refuge pile ages ago and just left there. Except the dirt on the sides of the door looked like it had been disturbed, and the metal handle was completely free from dust. I sent a kind thought to Darya for her tracking lessons, and with bated breath tried to open the door - except it didn't budge. Could I have come this close to finding a way out, only to be defeated by a lock? The door didn't have a keyhole, but - close to panicking, I equipped my small spear, inserting the tip into the tight space between the door and the frame, moving it around in the search for any obstructions. My heart skipped a beat as the tip hit something. I held my breath and softly applied some leverage - and when I felt it budge, I almost shed a tear. A heavy grunt of effort from me was rewarded with the sound of something heavy dropping to the ground on the other side. Pulling open the door, I sent a grateful thought to Serune or whichever deity might have a kind thought for someone like me as the door revealed a tiny dirt staircase leading steeply down into the basement of the house.

Any reservations I might've had of entering were dispelled by a hooting laughter nearby, and I backed down into the staircase and guided the door down as gently as possibly. Beside me, I spotted the board that had been lodged in place to keep the door closed and grinned. Trying to calm the beating of my heart and gain my breath from the run, I slowly walked down the stairs. A warm glow from below made it easy to navigate the stairs and led me unerringly down, around the corner and into another doorway that revealed a large, cozy cellar - and three sets of weapons pointed at me.

My mind seemed to slow to a stutter, as I took in the view. A spear, twin daggers and a metal-capped long staff, respectively, were pointing the business end at me. Whichever wit I might usually claim to own, had fled the scene, and the only thing that left my mouth was "I come in peace?"

The center kobold grunted. I generally had troubles deciding the age of kobolds, but it certainly looked like this one had lived a full life. He was quite probably the most scarred person I'd ever seen. One leg was missing from the knee down, and had been replaced with a peg leg attached by leather straps. Entire scales were mashed in, some seemed to blur together from burn damage, and he'd lost a good bunch of his teeth. Still, his arms were muscular, the spearhead wavered not a bit, and neither did his gruff voice. "Muriel, search him. Arack, check to see the door's closed. And locked." The last part was clearly a reprimand, but I didn't catch anything else, busy as I was being searched and manhandled by the stocky, dark-scaled Muriel and eventually prodded into a low, rickety chair in the back of the room.

The trio reconvened, chatting softly between themselves for a while. They then gathered before me, and the old grizzly lizard took charge again. "Who are you and what the pits have you started up there?"

The momentary break had allowed me to do one thing - check the color of the tags outlining them and confirm that yes, indeed, I had finally met a group where I started in good standing. This prodded me to be as straightforward as possible: "It's a long story, but I managed to antagonize a group of your hunters and be labeled Anathema in record time. The noise up there is the group searching for me in order to end me. Again. I'm a Reborn." I shrugged. "I truly apologize for bringing this to your home, but I was desperate."

He waved away my concern with a stern face. "Apologies don't matter to us. What do you want?"

"Refuge. A place to stay for the near future, while I take care of my business in Nerit."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid that's impossible. We barely have enough for the three of us. Now, you're an Anathema, and an oblivious one on top of that, so we're treating you nice. You can stay until the hunt's over.

I was flabbergasted. This was what a ‘liked’ reputation brought in Nerit? What the hell would they do to somebody they actively disliked?

"Are you serious? I'm Anathema - just as yourselves." They clearly were too. The markings stood out on their foreheads, announcing to the entire world that they were also, somehow, worth less than the rest of "actual" kobold society.

"That's now how this works, human. Among the Fallen, everything has a cost, and you're about to pay it, one way or another. Now, keep it down, or we'll have to throw you out right now."

While that seemed like an ultimatum, my increasing skill at blackmail was screaming at me that I ought to be paying attention right now - that this was actually an invitation to barter, well disguised. Some might call it a shakedown, but trading money for safety and a place to stay? Yeah, I'd take it. "How about an alternative? If you throw me out, nobody wins. If you let me pay for the privilege of staying here, in safety, however - we all come out the richer."

They exchanged glances at that - and at long last, the butt of the heavy spear hit the floor with a thud. "That...might be arranged. But you will need to answer a number of questions first."

I nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't want you to accept me into your home without knowing who I was." Seems my initial choice of honesty had been the right one.

He harrumphed. "Who are you and what brought you to Nerit?"

"Arcangelo. I'm the official bard of Grant's Crossing. The village sent me here as a spokesperson to arrange a peace treaty between our people. What is your name?"

The stocky one - Muriel - sniggered at that, but immediately stopped when the old guy shot him a glance. The pecking order was pretty well established here. "My name is Darek. So, you were labeled Anathema because you were a bard. Why do the hunters seek to kill you - again, you said?"

I ground my teeth at the thought. "Yes, they got to me once already. We managed to make it to the gates of Nerit before that Talen and his cronies caught up to us, and...I might have infuriated him. Slightly. And after I was judged, they managed to hunt me down - and I killed one of his friends - Mavel, I believe."

Arack blurted out. "You killed Mavel?"

Darek raised his voice for the first time. "Silence. Both of you. If you cannot remain composed, you will go to the training chamber." He sighed audibly. "So, you will be hunted by one of the most vicious hunter groups in Nerit. Anything else?"

I gave the question due consideration. "I don't know how long time I'm staying, but I do intend to complete what I set out to do. Oh. And I'm a spellcaster."

Darek massaged his temple. "All right. That certainly explains the judgment. Now, understand this: In a good month, we would have shown you the door. Fallen cannot afford trouble, and you are undeniably trouble. However, times have been rough, and our situation needs to improve if we are to make it through winter. Meaning: we will take you in - but you'll have to pay for the privilege. We're not unreasonable though. We can use most types of material for trading - or weapons - but above all, we need the basics. Food, drink, and potions for emergencies."

[You have been offered a quest: “Hostess gifts”

You have been requested to bring gifts to the table in order to be accepted by Darek and his group. Meet their requirements in order to obtain refuge. Exceed the requirements for further possibilites.

Reward: Variable.

Accept/Decline]

Damn. That was not what I'd hoped for. "I just want to be certain: You never mentioned money with a single word. Does that mean what I believe it does?"

He shrugged. "Our contact with the outside world is rare. Your coin is not worthless - but it is valued less than many other places."

Figures. Now, I didn't have much coin left, but it did leave me with a dilemma. I was fully stocked up on crafting items and my own equipment was decent, but I hadn't exactly stocked up on bribes. Now, I could either see if I could sway them with a promise or - I grimaced - might as well go all in. "I'll give you two things. The first one is the payment. The second is my promise, given free of charge, that within a short period of time, I will take care of your current problems regarding food." With that, I presented the old kobold with Berthold’s axes, hilt first. 

Muriel moved forward to accept the axes, eyes widening at the sight. Wordlessly, he held them up for Darek to inspect. Darek took a brief look and his grim mien softened slightly. "That will do for payment. As for your promise: We have a saying among the Fallen 'Words are for the castes - we have real needs.' We will sell these weapons - that should go a long way to ensuring that we survive the winter."

I could see Muriel sending longing glances after the weapons - he was a dual wielder himself, right? "Could you use these, Muriel? I have a counter-proposal. How much food do you have?"

We discussed back and forth a bit, but in the end Darek relented and accepted to wait trading the weapons for at least a couple of days. Hopefully, that would be enought time to give me a chance to get in touch with Darya.

However it'd work out, it was sufficient for the quest to update.

[Quest updated: “Hostess gifts”

You have been requested to bring gifts to the table in order to be accepted by Darek and his group. They have accepted your initial offering and agreed to wait two days in the promise of additional gifts. Whatever else happens, you have gained refuge in their basement.

Reward: Variable.]

It was also enough for me to, finally, let down my guard and relax. I thanked them profusely, and slumped back into the chair and turned off my brain for a while, reveling in the fact that, for now, I was safe.