Born a Monster

230 Servant of the Axe – Early Spring

Chapter Type: Character Development, Time Skip

There was a sighting of a Clan Wyvern ship, but it wasn’t flying the black. We passed each other without hostility.

“Part Wave.” I chanted. It was hard not to be enthusiastic; the main line, and relative safety, were less than a day northward.

That said, we’d lose a day at the north end of an island, taking shelter from a storm that stretched over a third of the sky.

“That HAS to cover at least half the Isles.” I said.

“It’ll be broken up by the Isles before it gets to us.” Bosun Melody said. She was a blond, tall and thin and scarred, but strong enough to pick up an adult with one hand to send him flying with a blow from the other.

I’d only seen her do it the once, and I won’t argue the swab wasn’t asking for it in an impolite manner.

It was during the storm that the merfolk came onboard. From below the decks, we didn’t hear anything until the battle was started.

The ship pitched wildly at an inopportune time, and Madonna shot me in the back with her crossbow.

.....

[You have taken 12 points of piercing damage; after armor you have received 6 points, 32/40 remain.]

“Don’t look at ME like that, husband. Battle is on!”

I sighed. “Battle is on.”

was sent from the deck.

I informed Kismet.

“What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Kismet, you have the highest Charisma of all of us.”

“And YOU are the one supposedly in charge. Get up there and ACT like it.”

I may have been the Ambassador for the Red Tide Empire, but that was a position, not a title. I replaced Titan-Spawn with Truthspeaker, and used Sprint to get onto the deck.

Ugh. I couldn’t hear me screaming; no wonder nobody else could. By the time I found someone in a position to stop the carnage (mostly them upon us; humans aren’t built to fight on a pitching deck during a storm), we’d lost four members.

The plan was to move one anchor, then the other. The plan didn’t involve the ship shifting in the storm, yanking us all around the sea floor.

I lost ten health getting the one anchor into an outcrop of coral, and only two hooking the other on a rock that was small enough that the ship pulled it right out of the sand.

Exactly two days of healing, but... the emotions coming off the merfolk were worth it.

I remembered that feeling. I had the opportunity to become a goblin, to just live as part of the tribe. Who would I have been today, if I’d just stayed with them?

“I know where my duty lies. I should let the ones above know what is going on. But until the storm passes, I can return here.”

They caught fresh fish in a massive net, and made it look easy, one of them holding each corner. Many of the fish were released, there were more than enough for all of us.

There was singing, and swimming (which they mocked me for my lazy pace), and stories about the culture and history of the merfolk. Did you know that Valaria of the Spear spent several years among them? Somehow, I didn’t.

But those stories have no bearing on our journey, which resumed in the morning.

The next three days, I spent my time below deck, fighting the new leaks, mostly through mundane means. Did all ships come out of drydock like that, or had the storm just shaken her that violently?

I was wondering how so many spiders could survive in the bilge when Madonna found me.

“Husband? I need my room warded against scrying and other detections.”

“I can make it look like empty ocean, but if someone sends a spirit, it won’t fool them.”

She tapped a foot on her floor, my ceiling. “Shall we meet in our room, then?”

“Just a moment.” I said, leaving the crew’s bidding to do hers.

I pulled the best materials I’d been able to gather, and set about directing her where on the walls to adhere certain of the trinkets.

“Oh, sunstone! Set this on the rim of the porthole.”

“The what?”

“The round window there.” I pointed.

“Oh. PORT hole... Right.”

With her help, we had the wards up in half an hour. It was impressive, especially since she couldn’t contribute mana (it would show up to magical detection).

So, some good came from working on the shrine. Repeatedly.

Not that I bear a grudge against the Neonen people, and I hadn’t found the particular ones responsible.

“This,” I said, “is actually a pretty good ward. It might even hold past the coming new moon without maintenance.”

She grabbed my arm. “You WILL maintain it, though?”

I honestly believe she didn’t realize her nails were grinding against my scales. “Of course.” I said. “I won’t spend a single instant in this port that I don’t need to. You are needed for the Ermine Cloak, none of us need to be here.”

Her embrace was gentle, and warm, and almost sincere. “Thank you, husband. I will also be counting on you at the caldera.”

“Honestly, the one that I think will cause us the most problems is Danton the Black.”

She rolled her eyes. “Minions can only do so much. You might as well say that goblins and domugs can topple dragons.”

I sighed. If my silence meant that the forces of hell would ignore what those races were capable of...

“Very well,” I said, “I cede the argument. But I would rather face him on land than his entire fleet at sea.”

“That is not a very titan-like thing to say.”

“I don’t turn three until next season.” I said. “I’ve a bit of growing yet to do.”

“Keep gaining years, husband. That excuse will run out sooner rather than later.”

The captain brought us into port at night; the next dawn saw us in the Girdle.

The Explorer’s Guild was stuffy and reluctant to talk to me.

“And what,” the old man asked, “would we be translating?”

I pulled one of the prayer stones from my inventory.

He gasped. “It looks... almost authentic...”

“I can’t sell them to you, I need to return them.”

“What? No, this... this is something to be treasured.”

“Oh? If you find me a group of twenty or so worshippers, I can leave them in a shrine.”

He snorted. “We do not revitalize old cultures, we merely study and document them.”

“Then yes, these four tablets will need to be elsewhere.”

He named an outrageous price.

“I believe we can meet that. Gamilla?”

Gamilla had brought a small chest, from which she began to pull items.

“I’ve told you we have no need of native trinkets.”

“Even if those natives happen to be Makura, from the Makura Bay shoal?”

“They don’t make artworks like this, and if they had... Oh, dear.”

“Not the first they’ve produced, I’m afraid the Spiro family of Neo Esteban has those.” I said.

“But, if they’ve no value to you...” Gamilla moved to put the items back.

“Leave them with us for two days.” He said. “Let us debate the value of these items, and their impact on history.”

Gamilla shrugged. “Your life risked, your call.”

“This is something worth doing right, not fast.” I said. “Shall I send Gamilla by in three days?”

I moved to take the prayer stone back into my inventory.

The old man cleared his throat. “If you could leave that, please.”

“I can carry it to wherever you need it.” I said.

“Very well. This way, then.”

I kept my eyes open, but saw nothing that looked like the Belt of Infinity as it had been described to me.

“Here, leave your stone in this room. Dalton shall be doing the translation.”

.....

Dalton, presuming he was the scribe working in that room, was a bookish, bespectacled man, but rather pudgy even among those of his profession. “What shall I be translating?”

“This.” I said, pulling it out of my inventory.

“Oh. Very well, I’ll start tomorrow.”

“You’ll start tonight.” The old man said.

“I work here, but you do not own me. Why would I put aside my current task?”

“Show him.” The old man said.

So, I pulled out the other three stones.

“By the gods! Is that a full set? I’ve... I never thought I’d live to see one, certainly not in this condition.”

“I will need various linguistic translations.”

“Oh no, that’s scrivener’s work.” Dalton said. “But these... I’ll put them into Manoran for you. Give me eight days.”

I promised him those days, not knowing I’d actually be spending them in port.