Born a Monster

425 325 – The Big Break

By the time the triad arrived, Dame Doctor Thuria in the lead, things had gotten out of hand. Two of the madmen had decided to go at each other with the picks, knocking pieces off each other’s heads.

“Oh, no, please!” One of the orderlies screamed, trying to shield his face. I wished him luck, but he was already down two fingers and part of one forearm.

The orderlies by the door continued smashing Shit Thrower, their saliva black, their eyes bright.

“Enough of this!” Dame Doctor Thuria screamed. She looked direct into the pulsing non-heart of the Madness. “Both of you, with me!”

Nurse de Rollo looked at me, or more accurately, at my shield, forged from black iron. To call it steel... no, it was of iron, blackened with charcoal.

His first strike revealed the dull metal beneath. “Now you’ll feel my wrath!” he screamed.

“Doubtful.” I said, striking back. As I’ve mentioned, dwarves use chainmail for clothing. My strike did nothing more than bruise the flesh on his rib-cage.

He took a lash at my head, but I raised my shield. “Your moves are predictable. For two seasons, my wife trained me in the use of these.”

He stepped to the side, avoiding my ankle strike. “YOUR moves are predictable. For two years, I was a slaver.”

.....

“Obviously not a good one, to end up here.” I replied.

Crap, crap, and crap. Don’t do that to anyone who knows flurry of blows, even if their variant is called Wild Strikes. I mean, I don’t know that’s what it was called, but that’s what it looked like from my end.

“I have a SHIELD! You won’t hurt me, not as easily as you’re thinking.”

“I have armor, and allies.” he snapped back, landing a blow on my weapon arm.

[You have taken twelve points...]

I dismissed the alert.

“You can’t win!” he shouted at me.

“Are you blind?” I countered. “Look about you. I don’t need to WIN.”

A reminder, not all truths need to be spoken. He reacted the worst way possible. He actually looked.



Best

Nurse Shondru was well past her limit; she literally floated in the air, black light pouring from her eyes, from her mouth as she tried to scream.

“Hold it together, nurse!” the doctor snapped, foaming at the mouth.

“Mother, no!” de Rollo screamed. “Mother, I’m coming.”

Well. That was a thing that happened.

I struck at one of the orderlies by the door, but our whips became entangled. With a grin, he pulled me closer.
“I’m going to crush your head in my own bare hands!” he said.

Yeah. Pankratios. You know how THAT ended.

And then I was outside of the chaos, outside of the room. Within sight of that damn door, and it’s barred wall.

And the four orderlies behind it, prepared to strike at anyone and anything.

Ah, if the plan hadn’t already fallen apart... but it had.

I pulled a bundle from my inventory. “Let me pass.” I demanded. “Let me pass, or I use this!”

They laughed, of course. What harm had ever come from a fistful of fireworks?

“Ignition.” I whispered, and threw it.

[You have resisted Taint; after sin armor, zero points have been received.]

I closed my eyes. I had cut the fuses short; there was no time to worry about what was growing, slowly, in my kidneys.

In the narrow hallways of the asylum, the pops and bangs thundered like explosions. [Dazzled], [Dizzy], and [Temporarily Deafened] are conditions that don’t last long. But long enough to worm my way past bars that were set just a bit too widely to contain me. I led with the shield, of course.

A short hop onto the desk, a longer leap, scraping my back on the ceiling, and I was past them.

“And now,” I said, “the end begins.” I turned and ran.

At that very moment, the doctor began screaming. The orderlies gave chase; of course they had to.

But they had been expecting me to head left, toward the gate. Not right, deeper into the mines. Not directly to the temples, the core of divine faith.

When she had chosen a building for her asylum, Dame Doctor Thuria had chosen one far from other medical buildings. It was still, just barely, within what was proper and expected, yet still isolated. It wasn’t a bad choice, if her powers were as great as she believed.

Or perhaps I shouldn’t have been so judgmental, given Vanity was also my strongest sin.

I made for the temple of Gaia, of Mother Earth, the core faith of that particular mine. It was, properly speaking, a small cathedral, surrounded by buildings of a supporting nature. It was to this magically fortified structure that I hurled myself.

The NOTHING in my kidneys pulled as I crossed the threshold ward. It was rather like getting kicked by a donkey, and I lay insensate just inside the front gate.

It was fear that got me up against the pain. But when I struggled to my feet, it was the holy guard, not the orderlies who were helping me.

“Well then.” one said, “What’s your story?”

“I need to speak with your expert on Taint.” I said. I believe you call it” and I used the dwarven word.

“Nonsense.” said the one behind me. But the one looking into my face? His eyes lost their focus for a minute before he made the fist of protection between us.

“Mavlor.” that one said, “See this one to the waiting room, and relay his message to Anara’s bunch, if you would.”

Mavlor instead took a step back. “Has he been exposed?”

“Within the day.” the other responded. “But he is either lucky or resilient. I suspect both.”

Mavlor directed me with words rather than a heavy hand. He directed me to a tiny room with tapestries depicting (I presume) a woman fashioned out of metamorphic rock, her eyes and mouth lit from lava within.

There was also a plate of the long rocks that serve dwarven-kind as finger sandwiches. “Wait there.” he said from behind me.

I waited. And waited. Explored enough to find the water closet and return. And waited.

“Make this worth my time.” the aged priestess who finally showed up said.

“I need to know more about the Taint of Madness.” I said.

She waved a dismissive hand. “The holy carvings...”

“Specifically a strength four nexus.” I said. I pulled the unused ward-mixture from my inventory, placing it into her hand. “I lack the strength to use any but the smallest magics near it, and it is served by roughly two dozen madmen and madwomen.”

“You expect me to believe that many maniacs have been gathered, and nobody has noticed.” she said, dryly.

“But people have noticed.” I said, “And have given their approval. I speak of the asylum run by Dame Doctor Thuria.”

She scoffed.

“Take me to any person with three social classes.” I said. “Among other things, I am a Truthspeaker. I literally cannot lie to you.”

Her eyes unfocused, but only for a moment. “This way.” she said. “I want to hear this tale of yours, but only the once.”

There were twelve of them, as required by dwarven law. I don’t think all were priests and priestesses, but they did listen, and asked the sorts of questions that revealed their expertise in such matters. When I’d reached the point of “And so I ran here.”, there were no readable emotions on any of their faces.

“Lava.” said one man. “We need to burn this out.”

An older woman cleared her throat. “Perhaps the church should decide what should and should not be burned away by lava? We have only this... animal-meat-flesh (yes, one dwarven word, I’m translating it as best I can) and the fact that one of the two people sent to collect him bears a single point of Taint. Please, let us gather evidence.”

“I submit as evidence,” one man said, “that earlier today madmen broke loose from the asylum, and began attacking citizens with mining tools. So that part of his story checks out.”

A woman stroked her imaginary beard. “This is a mess.”

Another woman nodded. “The public will need someone to blame.”

The man spoke again. “The person who put weapons into the hands of madmen seems like a good candidate for blame to me.”

“By his own admission,” other woman said, “he was free and did nothing to alert us at that time.”

Okay, I hadn’t been unprepared for that. It was a fair complaint. I opened my mouth to speak.

“He’s not as guilty as some, as complicit as others.” elder woman said. “Perhaps exile?”

“Perhaps interment in whatever facility replaces the current asylum?” a young man asked. “Unless we’re planning to put the patients right back in there?”

“Nobody said that, you puffed-up mushroom.” the well informed man snapped.

While they argued, I found a chair to sit in.

“I wonder when lunch is.” I said to the nobody who listened.

For those of you in worlds without magic, just trust me when I say black IS a color of light, and it radiates like any other. It is NOT a natural phenomenon, but neither are the undead, and I assure you both happen in my world.