Born a Monster

Chapter 70: Born A Monster, Chapter 70 – Second Siege of Narrow Valley

Born A Monster

Chapter 70

Second Siege of Narrow Valley

“Melee troops forward, beware metal jaw type traps! Archers, return fire!” Philecto belted out.

I hastily tightened the leather straps of my shield to my left arm and sprinted forward, shield raised.

Philecto easily outdistanced Dina, Rina, and I. Achmed joined Faraj and Adwa, bolts of water and ice joining arrows of ashen desert wood.

Oh, crap. Dina and Rina didn’t speak Achean; I’d have to learn their language in order to communicate Philecto’s orders to them. Charge is simple enough, but there were other things we might find ourselves doing in the future.

.....

The Uruk fired in volleys, but not at a single target. Still, even angled as I could get it, my shield’s condition was well in the yellow when their melee troops emerged.

And I do mean emerged! Some of them had buried themselves with plants atop themselves; others hid far enough up in the trees that one of them shattered an ankle jumping down. It was almost as if the land itself had sprouted Uruk warriors to bar our way.

Laughing maniacally, one of them ran forward, an axe in either hand. He hadn’t been expecting me to turn my charge to meet him, and he banged his wrist protector on the edge of my shield.

I swept my flavian across his armored belly.

He began battering on my shield; I struck towards his knee, striking a thigh plate. I struck at one of his axes and was nearly disarmed.

But he was the stronger, and uphill. With relentless blows, he drove me back. With my shorter reach, I had to walk into blows to even strike at him.

[You have been struck for twelve points of lacerating damage. After armor, 4 points have been applied. You have 6/30 health remaining.]

Oh. Right. I was still massively wounded from my visit to Whitehill.

Then there was another Uruk, with something that resembled a metal pole with six blades welded to it at even intervals. There was nothing left except defense.

Something that felt like a sledgehammer hit me in the small of my back.

[Your pain level has surpassed your remaining health. You will experience a period of unconsciousness.]

Yeah, I definitely needed to flag some better pain resistance when I woke up.

I awoke with a bag over my head, which smelled of old cheese that was turning to rot. Between the fibers, I could see points of color, but could not distinguish objects.

I could smell orcs through the cheese, but nothing human.

Should I be happy none of the others were taken prisoner, or worried?

“All I’m saying is, we should just kill him.” Said one, whose voice sounded like he’d been gargling iron filings.

“And I’m saying no. What’s a kobold doing this far north? What’s a kobold doing with adventurer grade gear?”

The clong of my shield being struck with something was somehow less comforting when I wasn’t wearing it.

“We have knives. It’ll talk.”

“No. We turn it over to the interrogators, and they make it talk.”

“Hey, it’s awake again.”

Again?

One of them brained me hard enough to put me out for the rest of the day.

#

I awoke naked on my belly, wrists and ankles bound together behind me. The bag had been replaced by some manner of double leather eye patches. Someone had rigged a muzzle out of hemp rope in a way to minimize blood flow to my face.

I could smell something musky, mammalian. Oh, and the manner of blood and offal one expects in a slaughter pit.

Somewhere off to my left, something was whimpering as a blade was stropped across leather between us.

I felt no warmth from the sun, but did feel a cool breeze. It might be night.
Black Snake should have been around, but her status in my System was grayed out.

What had happened? I vaguely remembered a sledgehammer...

I must have passed out. The mewling had escalated into screaming, and the sounds of leatherwork were coming from that direction.

Gods damn it all! THINK OF SOMETHING MORE CREATIVE THAN SKINNING PEOPLE ALIVE! Although, having gone through it, I can say that it’s a pretty effective form of torture.

Puk-schlik, puk-schlik, puk-schlik... Wait, was that the sound of sewing? Why would you cut into someone only to sew them back together?

Oh. There was some creative imagery. Thanks, brain.

“This one’s not bleeding.” Said a squeaky voice.

“Hrm?” came a baritone.

Two sets of footsteps came near, Squeaky’s shuffling, Baritone’s clopping. His left shoe in particular made noises like it was either loose or falling apart.

“Well, toss him in the cage with the treated prisoners, then.”

This was done; from the noises of the two people in there with me, our hosts had not been gentle in their application of medicine. Neither of the two smelled familiar, though both smelled distinctly human.

Neither one attempted to talk to me; boring as it was, I lay there and pretended to be unconscious.

Then I started a System timer, and pretended to be unconscious.

Augh! This was worse than the torture would have been!

I checked my inventory, only to find it empty. Coin pouch, empty. Stomach – okay, stomach was still digesting, so it had been less than two hours since the battle.

I took inventory of my skills, but none of them had gone up noticeably in the battle. I had, somehow, gotten a point of Combat XP.

If only I had a way of cultivating XP from this boredom, then I’d be set.

By the time the cart arrived, I needed to stop by the bathroom badly, and also wanted a drink of water.

I decided that there was no point in waiting until we got to the next cell, or maybe a torturer’s slab. I let go in a continuous warm stream that trickled off the back of the cart unnoticed.

Heh, maybe I should learn urine-o-mancy, and explore the camp that way.

“Hello?” said one of the voices near me. “Can anybody hear me?”

“Hey. Man make noises.” Squeaky said.

“K, your turn, you hit make noise man.”

There was a wooden THWAK, and then only the noises of the cart.

#

“This one’s bleeding again.” Squeaky said. “I think we need to take him back to the stitching pit.”

“We’d always be walking if I listened to you.”

Baritone hefted me by my knotted limbs, slung me against some wooden poles, and then closed the door. He moved on from lighter to heavier while Squeaky Voice wrapped a chain around each cell door, and secured it with a padlock.

Wait... squeaky voice... I took a good whiff. Was Squeaky a goblin?

I couldn’t tell. But if there were goblins in the camp, and I could become a goblin...

Potentially, I could just vanish into the Uruk camp.



???????????????? ???????????????????????????? ???????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ????????????????????-????????????.????????????

Yeah... Okay, so first, I needed to get out of these knotted ropes.

[Your Agility/Dexterity/Escape Artist/Escape Ropes skill is not high enough to attempt this.]

Well... Crud.

Maybe I could work a claw around, slowly wear through the rope?

I still had the pick-like claws from last year, not the sickle-like claws that some other species enjoyed. I really needed to set aside the biomass to grow those, it’s just that I had trouble getting the nutrients to grow bone rapidly.

But... pick, pick, pick. Hemp rope is made from individual fibers. Maybe I couldn’t break the rope, but enough of the fibers and... zzzZZZzzz

[Lucid Dreaming success]

I never want to see the ensemble Philecto was wearing in real life. Just... I’m not even going to describe it, lest some fool think of it as a challenge to surpass or improve upon it.

It was foppery made armor, and it. Looked. Ridiculous. “Aha! There he is. Alive.”

Ahmed said some words in Kathani.

Riiight...

“I live.” I told Philecto.

“Can you tell us where you are? What’s around you?”

.....

“Some manner of wooden cage. They have me blindfolded. I think there may be goblins about.”

“There may be goblins about, and they may outnumber the Uruk. Who, by the way, are flying God Hand heraldry. We’re trapped outside their nasty little trench circle, but we’re going to harass their supply lines and such. We considered circling around to Crimson Hand, but we noticed this is the same pattern you said they used to take that city.”

“It might be. The goblins are new. What colors are they flying?”

“Colors? Goblins? Honestly, I’m not paying attention to that. Goblins in the open. Less dangerous than hunting dogs, except for the champions.”

“Just don’t let them corner you; I know how goblins treat goblins, I imagine Uruk use them as disposable bodies.”

“Oh, please. Any adventurer worth their salt can survive in the wild. We might not be able to break their siege, but we can always lead them on a merry chase.”

“What do you need from me? How can I help?”

“Can you escape?”

“Working on it.”

“Good man. We’ll be seeing what we can do to make this siege inconvenient on them. Let me know when you get away. I’ll either be asleep at noon or midnight.”

#

Then Achmed sneezed, and I was dropped unceremoniously into my normal dreams.

The good part about being blindfolded is that you get to sleep in past dawn. The bad part is that wearing restrictive ropes around your limbs cuts off blood flow; you awaken in pain, and your movements to restore circulation warn your captors that you are awake.

Squeaky Voice laughed, and enjoyed poking at me with a sharpened stick.

He moved on to torment other prisoners, and soon after I was up was replaced by Smells Like Farts and Wears Boots, both of them goblins. It wasn’t long before they were asleep. Pick, pick, pick.

It wasn’t long at all before my System warned me that my minimum biomass payment for today was 22 biomass. Blah, blah, blah...

I wondered how many servings of rope they’d used to tie me up with. In theory, it was still plant matter, and should digest just fine.

This much rubbing on the fibers, there must be some loose ends. I hoped I wasn’t dulling my claws.

If I could just get my teeth around... Wait. Maybe I could. I’d have to be careful...

I straightened my neck out, grabbing one of the bars with my teeth. Using muscles I hadn’t since growing limbs, I tried to pull back, to dislocate my neck. Once that was....

Wait, no, that was just stupid.

Quick, efficient, and STUPID.

I began pulling on my left wrist, dislocating THOSE bones. I could always heal a broken wrist or smashed hand. But if I severed my spine or broke my neck? I’d rather not learn that.

Healing bones requires those rare dairy nutrients, usually found in eggshells, bones, horn, and other places. So for a good long time, my left hand would just be unusable.

But with it free, it was easy to get my other arm free. And soon, I was chomping down rope like it actually tasted good.

Rope is horrible for nutrition, and it tastes bad. Just... don’t eat rope.

Now leather blindfolds? Mediocre nutrition.

And with that gone, I got to see that I was in a cage constructed of wooden poles. It was one of eight in my row, of twelve rows. I could see three other fields of cages like this one.

So... lots of cages.

The bars were too close for me to slip through without drastic measures, like breaking my rib cage. So I set about clawing and chewing on the bars themselves. Given time, I could eat and digest wood.

Of course, it was time I didn’t have, but there was no way I could have known that.

#