Born a Monster

351 251 – Of Lavin Buscala

A seabound vessel isn’t the worst place to pick up gossip and hearsay, but it is nothing compared to an actual port.

Lavin Buscala hadn’t changed as much as I might have liked; the longhouses were of wood, and the guardians still had a mostly pinkish cast.

“What is the status of our people here?” I asked one of the Uruk sailors.

She stiffened a bit. It was the first time I’d spoken to her; in general, the Uruk had been treating me with distant respect, speaking only when spoken to. I needed to gain the evolutions for an Uruk transformation, I had decided.

“Our people,” she said, “pay only light rent to live within the walls, or we live outside, in tents.”

I blinked. “Why would our people not build houses of their own?”

“We are allowed to lumber only in the northern forest.” she explained. “There are beasts of wolves there, and the toll they take on our food supplies is...”

“The Fenris are a folk.” I said, “but they do not own the land. Neither do the Norvik, for that matter.”

“The spirits are the same.” she said. “Spirits everywhere are the same. But the people here are different. The plants, the soil, different. In Achea, we could hunt wildlife and not worry about how little of that meat would be ours. Here...”

.....

“They do not treat you as fellow citizens.” I said. “Here, you are treated as refugees.”

“Yes. Only upon the boats are we equal, and then only so far as we can prove our skills. We are people of the land, and the waves are not the land. We tried claiming an island of our own, and it was the Furdians who sent troops to burn us out.”

“To. Burn.” I bristled. “Not to warn. Their first action was attack?”

She shrugged. “I am not of that colony. My eyes and ears did not see. But those who survived are of blood that I trust, and they say so. They fought like plains cats, but still, there is only so much one can do against such an army.”

I looked down, to see a tasty fish looking up at me. Curious, and not in the least threatened. To be fair, it was a good distance down to the water. “How many of the people survive?”

“Still three of four, but the second wave of colonists never arrived, and the third had to tear their boat apart rather than fix it. They were... less in number than expected. Three of ten did not survive the journey.”

“The people should be roughly the number of the Norvik.”

“Your estimates do not take into account the vessels.” she said. “Fully half of the pinkskins are on the water for any season the waves can be ridden, and now six of ten of the people. The taxes, you see...”

“Lass!” a voice came from behind us. “Ships don’t dock themselves. It takes work. Flapping gums is for shore leave, AFTER we dock.”

“Aye, Aye, Mister Tibbs!” she called back. “Sorry, work to do.”

What the hell was that vindictive widow DOING to the Uruk? I expected to see a town full of jovial Norvik, partying at my people’s expense.

I say my people. Which may be a thing alien to you, a reptilian shape changer adopting a wild folk as his own, while living among their enemies. And, later working for their conqueror, who was of a different race entirely, one of the overlord races of old.

I didn’t have anything resembling love for my blood kin; a day of carnage and cannibalism had seen to that. No, my family were all adopted, and no thank you, I will keep my distance from my fellow Proteans.

But the sun tanned Uruk, free people of the mountains, of the valleys and plains between? They were not always my friends, but they were at least civil about it. To see them burdened like this so that humans...

The humans of Lavin Buscala were a broken people compared to the ones I had left. Listless, malnourished, lacking of sleep. There were two at the docks who were hale and strong, and both of those wore iron collars around their necks, from which a shiny pendant hung.

“Who are those two?” I asked one of the sailors, a human this time.

He spat over the side of the ship. “Tax collectors. Lapdogs for Lady Ingrid Findseth, Jarl of Lavin Buscala, unless she’s actually gone and renamed it. Findseth Hold.”

“You don’t sound like you’re fond of the jarl, or of the name.”

“I’ve already said too much.” he said. “Now go away, I have ropes to mind.”

And he did. There were literally dozens of jobs, or hundreds of individual tasks involved in bringing a ship into port, even a small one like the Wary Dolphin.

“Ambassador, best that you be beneath, with the rowers.” Mister Tibbs said, “You are not much loved in Lavin Buscala.”

I sighed. “Is there actual rowing to be done?”

“More than I would like. Normal vessels get by with only their sail, and I think the Dolphin could do the same. Still, it is the captaine’s ship, and not mine, so we do things her way.”

I took a last look at the town of Lavin Buscala from a distance, where I could see the whole thing. They’d rebuilt the buildings that had burned, new construction nestled within the old. It should have looked familiar, not foreboding.

But, as Mister Tibbs had promised, there was rowing enough for those of us who worked the oars.

By the time we took to the deck, the collectors had already boarded, and were beneath in the hold, taking inventory and one presumes, taking either taxes or bribes.

“You would be well advised to disguise yourself.” Mister Tibbs said.

“Snake. Face.” I said, indicating myself and then each of my companions. “Mwarri cat-person. Fire mage at age six. Hobgoblin genius. There is no hiding who and what we are, Mister Tibbs. Each of us has grown since last we were here, champions in our own right.”

“You aren’t champions in this port.” he replied.

“Well,” Madonna said, “then perhaps we shall remind the people why they are polite when devils walk among them.”

I had been expecting a mob, an accusation, at least someone to spit or curse. But there were only furtive looks and fearful whispers.

[You have successfully tapped this environment for faith aspected by Fear. Your current attunement rating is 0. 1/10 XP toward rating one. 1/1 Fear mana has been stored.]

It nestled in, right next to Courage and Duty, where they began mingling like friends.

Ugh, it would be so difficult to keep those separate. But that was work for a quiet time, not when walking the streets of what might as well have been a war zone.

Citizens didn’t spend time on the cobbled roads, hurrying from one place to another. They did not linger, talked with neither each other nor us.

“Do we even have coins for the inn?” I asked.

“Aren’t we kicking over the unjust despot?” Madonna asked.

“That didn’t work so well last time.” I said. “And our purpose here is...”

I couldn’t finish that.

Not because of the Truthspeaker oath, but because ... because it was WRONG.

“This whole place is wrong.” I said. “Gamilla, please find out when the Black Hound is next due here.”

“We need to book a ride to Yvettesport.” she said. “He has a new mistress there, and will likely be spending most of his time there, rather than pay the taxes of this place.”

“New mistress?” Madonna asked. “How DO you pick up such tasty tidbits of gossip?”

“Turns out the captaine once had a brief candle with him. She keeps tabs.”

I blinked. “She said nothing of this to me.”

Kismet bristled. “Because you have all the charm of a nettle bush, and the empathy of a stone.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.” Madonna said. “I may use it later.”

“Nope, that’s one I’ve been holding back since before Dauria. It’s mine until I’m done with it.”

There was only one other ship in the harbor, and it was making preparations to depart.

“Shall we see if we can get there before they raise their walkway?” I asked.

“One of us is better at running than all the rest of us put together.” Madonna said.

“Yeah.” Kismet said. “I want to see this.”

Gamilla sighed. “We might make it at a stately pace, but might not also.”

Fine. I ran.

“That’s only double your old running pace!” Kismet mocked from behind me.

Only double.

I was hardly winded when I arrived at the ramp. “Beg pardon.” I said, “But is this vessel bound for Yvettesport?”

“For Vernice, beyond. So bugger off.” the sailor said. “Captain don’t want no... god’s blood, but you’re a monster! Go. Away!”

“Ashon, we do NOT call the landbound... Oh, you ARE a monster, though, aren’t you?” a woman said, coming to the railing.

“Are you the captaine?” I asked. “We wish to book passage for four to Yvettesport.”

“CAPTAIN Grummond shall make that decision, but even if he does, we’re not putting into port at Yvettesport. You’ll need to take a rowboat in.”

“I await the decision of your captain, then. We don’t need much space, and only for the day it will take to get there.”

It only cost us double normal passage.

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