Born a Monster

317 217 – Military Trial

Plotline: Main

Chapter Type: Social

“I’m sorry, honored elder, please say that again?” I asked

“You are under arrest for charges of dereliction of duty.” she repeated.

“But I have been working here, and diligently!”

Male guards seized my arms, bound them in front of me.

“You are not assigned to this unit, you are assigned to to twenty seventh civilian lumberjacks.”

“What? I went where my in-processing clerk told me to go.”

“Then your trial will be short.” she replied.

.....

The trial was short, and the wait long.

“You are charged with dereliction of duty.” the judge said.



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“I reported to the wrong work unit.” I said.

“Let me see... was it a lumbering unit?”

“Laundry.” I said.

“And how did you not know this was the wrong unit?”

“Nothing else around here seems to make sense, why should my unit assignment?”

“Ah, the village comedian and dunce all in one person. At least your black headband makes sentencing simple. Death.”

The bailiff cleared his throat. “Your honor, you need to find him guilty first.”

“Ah-ah. Yes, I suppose I do. Guilty. Death. Next case.”

And they hauled me off to one side, wondering what manner of lunacy had just happened. Someone ripped the black band from my head.

They took a length of rope, tied my bonds to a hempen loop, which was attached to a long string of other people. They wailed, they complained, they cursed, and the most broken of them remained silent and staring.

We were loaded up into a cart, which was flanked by horsemen with spears and bows. There were no benches, and some of us fell as the cart bumped and tilted. By the time we got to the graveyard, we were a hopeless and tangled mess.

One by one, they cut us loose, put shovels in our hands, and led us next to a corpse to dig graves. There were more of them than of us, which was curious at first. Our guards were two squadrons of archers. They got dinner, we did not. Those who ceased working without being told to take a break were filled full of arrows, rolled into whatever grave they’d been digging, and buried. Those who tried to run, the same.
As we finished each grave, we moved to the next plot of unworked earth to our right. Those not condemned to death would do the filling.

My stomach grumbled loudly; I might not finish, but I was hungry enough to fill my stomachs, real and System, with archer meat.

A lad younger than I appeared but older than I was, came by, hammered a torch into the ground, lit it, and moved on.

There were no breaks called after sundown. There were six of us left at that point.

I finished my second grave of the day, rolled the body into it, and moved to the end of the line.

“You are a hard worker.” the overseer said. “I really wish I could keep you, but you know this isn’t that sort of work.”

“I know.” I said. “But honored elder, is it wise to stand there, between me and the archers?”

“Ah-ah, turn around.”

I did so.

“Six hundred paces to the nearest tree. Look at the moon, waxing from full. I’ll tell you what, the archers are forbidden to chase you if you make it into the wood deep enough that they can’t shoot you. By all means, run.”

“Thank you, honored elder. Shroud!”

“What? You’ll never make it!” He screamed other things, as well, but I didn’t pay any attention to him.

I zigged, I zagged, but most importantly, I pulled my shield from inventory. I ran, generally, away at an angle.

It took them time to string their bows, and load their arrows, but I knew when my shield only caught two of the three arrows that threatened me in that first volley that it was over.

Fifteen arrow hits would knock me down, minus the bonuses for criticals. Shroud may have reduced the chance for those, but it gave them a big bloblike target around me. I’d extended the time I’d be running, but there was no way I was going to make it all the way.

Salvation came after the fourth volley; all the archers were awake and firing by then. A horseman with an axe and torch came toward me from my left.

Crap. Knife. Knife. No knife in inventory; I had a sword.

The torch was a good idea; it mostly dispelled my Shroud.

“Ha-ha!” he said. “The glory of this kill goes to Yi Ming!”

I must have looked crazy, charging toward him. Humming like large bees, the arrows came down around us. I deflected one with my shield.

He had no shield, taking it on his metal armor. His mount didn’t even have armor, and it was a larger target.

I had been counting on the animal panicking; I was disappointed. It reared up, but only to try to bring its hooves down upon me.

Keeping the warrior between me and the archers wasn’t hard. That axe, though, knocked pieces from my shield with every hit after the first. The horse would dance away when I struck with my sword, and then back in time for him to try another overhead swing.

I let him drive me before him; it was closer to the line of trees.

Remember when I first learned, from the centaurs, to remove the stumps? They weren’t practicing that, and I nearly tripped while discovering this. Took four points of blunt damage, but was still standing.

The horse was less lucky, falling over with an audible cracking noise and a scream. The rider fell hard, and did not rise.

When had I made it halfway? I was under half health, and was probably going to die here. I sprinted from stump to stump, taking cover behind stump and shield as the arrows fell.

And then the range penalty kicked in, and the volleys were suddenly that much less dangerous.

I bought extra charges of Duck For Cover, and made my way toward safety.

When the arrows stopped, I had lost my shield, all my champion points, and had 16/80 health.

Oh, and I was still hungry.

But there was no pursuit that night, and the woods, I discovered, were not patrolled. Except for a noose trap (which I avoided), I made good time that night.

Hunters and foragers had done their best to pick those woods clean of food, but I could eat things they couldn’t. As I ran, I plucked strings of ivy, nibbled on fallen branches, and devoured handfuls of grass. A hapless vole (a species of mouse) was devoured whole, adding just a bit of protein and bone mass to the mix.

At least I wasn’t bleeding.

[Your current health is too low to reverse Transformation: Human, Daurian.]

Of all the cursed luck! Human feet have no scales on the bottom of them, and every seed pod or pebble made its presence known in pain.

I looked back, once. I was leaving a clear trail. If they chased me with horses, they’d catch me around mid-day tomorrow. I flagged the night as sleepless, reserving the Sanity and Serenity that I’d lose.

[Focus here to activate Tireless Servant for ten divine quest points.]

What the hell? I wasn’t on a divine quest, was I?

[Divine Quest: Make Me a Shirne: Consecrate a shrine to Sobek and gather at least a dozen worshippers in his name. No reward. No expiration time.]

You know what? As much stuff as my System took from me, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

[Ability engaged.]

I fled south, parallel to the road, until I reached the bridge.

[You lack the biomass to rapid evolve Amphibious Lungs.]

The bridge was an estuary for fish, frogs, and crayfish. I went to sleep having decimated their populations at least once. My lungs breathing water, I curled up next to a stone support that promised safety and shade.

[You lack the biomass to reverse Transformation: Human, Daurian.]

Dang it! There had to be something..

[Transformation from Human, Daurian to Human, Manoran will take eight minutes.]

Not so many bones breaking themselves to twist into new shapes, but you’d be amazed at how much even slight muscular adjustments can hurt. At least I’d remembered to flag my System to keep Amphibious Lungs rather than sell it back.

Drowning would have been just such an embarrassing way to go.

I could swim faster than I could walk; downstream to the ocean, and a fishing village right there. I managed to “wash up on shore”, with no need to feign exhaustion. I had no clue what story I was going to tell. There had been no recent storms, and I was reasonably certain there was no reason for a ship from Boadicea’s Girdle to be this far south in the Isles.

I lay there, trying to think of one that wouldn’t get me killed. I knew smugglers and pirates were put to death, which limited my options.

I was just so very tired of being condemned to death.