Born a Monster

Chapter 359

359 259 – Jasmine Jade

It should come as no surprise that three days later, the Benapongo let us know we were “rescued”.

Kismet said.

It wasn’t fishy; the “merchant” boat was flying a black flag.

“Captain Harcourt of the Jasmine Jade.” the Black Hound said. “You wanted Danton, that’s one of his crew.”

“I thought the vessels never split up.” Gamilla said.

“What, like twins that go everywhere together?” he asked. “Vessels need to resupply, especially with Winter coming on.”

“Unless they try to rape us in the rowboat, we try talking first.” Madonna said.

“That’s a mistake.” the Hound said. “Danton’s got the nastiest crew this side of the dragon. Hires people I know better than to touch.”

I sighed. “Just once, while we’re here, I’d like to deal with some civil pirates.”

.....

In fact, the fools did try to wrestle with Gamilla; we weren’t even in the deep water. Four of them, seven of us. It wasn’t hard to understand why that didn’t work.

“We should head back to the island.” the Hound said. “Take his crew away little by little.”

“I’m still at full health.” Gamilla said.

“I have a jaunty hat.” Kismet said.

“Wait.” Madonna said. “Husband, break what you need to to make a shield.”

The Jasmine Jade carried nets on both sides. Good for the morale of the crew, bad for their actual health.

“Ahoy!” The captain called as we came into bow range. “That was quite the audition. Have you considered a career as pirates?”

The hound shrugged. “As good a way to meet Danton as any.”

“Winter is just about here.” Gamilla said. “And with it the shutdown of the merchant lanes. A share of the loot won’t be of use to us if there is no loot.”

“A woman after my own heart, so here’s my counter offer. A share of the loot, a share of the work, or else a share of arrows.”

“Here’s mine.” Gamilla called back, “How big a share of the loot?”

Hereafter followed talk of shares, and points, and jibs. Captain Harcourt was red in the face, which let me know we’d gotten a fair shake. Double shares, but triple if our work exceeded three jibs.

“Well,” he said, “Blow me down, if it isn’t the Black Hound himself. Almost didn’t recognize you without your flouncy hat.”

“Even keel side up, you recognized my ship.” the Hound responded. “You’ve made a steal of a bargain, today, captain.”

“None of these look tough, captain.” a bare chested man said, as we were being hoisted up, boat and all. “I’ll wager their double share I can take any of them.”

“Your cue or mine?” Kismet asked me.

I scratched that always itchy spot on my chin. “I could leap from here.”

“I’ve got full health. Give me a boost, I’ll jump from your hands as you throw me.”

Not sure how her somersault went over with the pirates, but it looked impressive from below.

“All right, now I know you scurvy pirates have brain rot. Which one of you is challenging which of us, now?”

There was the sound of metal striking metal. “You arrogant cat-woman! I’ll beat you like a midden hatch and skin you alive, and then spank you with your own tail! I am Bernard the Beater, trained Pankratios wrestler! Put your sword away, and face me like a REAL champion, else back away and lose.”

She laughed openly. “You? Hey, Rhishi, Someone thinks he’s a Pankratios.”

He was large and muscular, and the top of my head was only an inch or two above his belly button.

I slid my reticule over him, discovering he was of Khanate mother and Manoran father. “What rules shall we fight by?” I asked.

“Rules? Rules are for wimps!” he said, edging forward.

[Pankratios Stance, Crusher variant.]

What? No, variant stances were level two.

“What about the basics?” I asked. “No eyeballs, no broken limbs?”

“Your stance gives you away! No mercy for you, beginner! Here I come!”

He had range, and power equal to mine, and more and better abilities. I had four doses of level five venom. He landed a blow worth six damage on me, and withdrew howling.

“You think your venom matters to me?” he screamed, moving in for an Octopus grapple.

I spun away. “I offered you rules.” I said, slipping away to his left.

I know, I know better than to talk during battle. I knew, but I’d done it anyway.

He took a grip on my left hip, and with a pop, that leg joint came free.

The crew went wild as he raised me overhead, as I grabbed his thumbs and forced him to drop me. It was a long fall, but the deck hurt less than the kick he made at my shoulder.

I turned my skid into a roll. Incidentally, don’t roll with a dislocated hip. It hurts.

He charged before I could rise, and I lashed out with my good leg. This gave him access to my tail; he spun me head first into a barrel of tar. The side of it, not an overhead slam into the cool hard surface of the tar itself.

“Ah, you’ve killed him.” someone hollered.

He began a victory lap around the deck.

“Bernard! Bernard! It’s still alive.” But the warning was lost among the other calls of his name.

Gripping the barrel with one hand, holding my leg just so with the other, I slammed my hips into the barrel, popping my leg joint back into place.

I debated just biting him again. He was pale and sweating, but not quite wobbling on his feet.

His feet.

If you can’t stand, you can’t fight. I threw myself at his ankles, going for the trip. Instead, I got a grip on one ankle, and cracked ribs as I transitioned upward, to his knee.

He did some manner of sacrifice throw, falling to the deck and using the momentum to fling me off his leg. Toward, but not quite into, the mast.

Neither of us was quick to rise; I couldn’t get a read on his health, but mine was certainly below half.

[23/80 Health remain.]

Well, a double share of nothing was still nothing, I wouldn’t miss it too much.

He shook his head and came at me with a Lancer’s Blow. I ducked to the side, taking a blow at his midsection.

[You have scored a RED critical for times eight damage!]

Oh, gods. I hadn’t meant...

I struck him in the groin. Eight times twelve is ninety six points of damage. The blow shattered his testicles, his entire pelvic bone, and snapped his lower back from his upper.

He died instantly. I couldn’t focus on his face, but it seemed locked in a rictus of hostility.

The crowd went silent; crew killing crew was big taboo.

“You idiot!” Kismet shrieked, coming from nowhere to deliver a blow to my right eye. “You’ve killed him! You’ve killed him, and YOU are doing whatever share of work he did, because I’m not covering for you, got it?”

she sent.

Honestly, I was near quarter health; there wasn’t a lot of acting involved.

“Accident!” I shouted. “It was an accident!”

“What is the state of my bosun?” Captain Harcourt demanded.

“He’s shark bait, captain. Looks as bad as if he’d hit himself.”

“Lock that rabid monster in the brig! No, in the bilge!” he shouted. “Alice!”

A woman I’d mistaken for a slim man stepped forward from the crowd. “Shall I handle applications for the open position, captain?” she asked.

“And the funeral as well. Say something nice. Bernard’s earned that much. AND SOME CREW HAD BETTER THIS SHIP UNDER WAY, OR THERE’S FREE FLOGGINGS FOR ALL!”

And there, in the sewage and stagnation that was a typical ship’s bilge, I didn’t feel much like a victor. I mean... cripes. Ninety six damage. That blow alone would have knocked him unconscious for over a day. If he’d been at full health.

How many fights had I survived, when I’d started at under half health?

I was fighting at a higher level, now. How long would it be before I had to take that kind of damage?

How many criticals had I dealt in all my fights? How many had I received?

[System logs not enabled. To purchase for sixty development points, focus here.]

There in the dark, my nose overwhelmed, these things seemed all the more scary.

From the time I was scared of mere birds, I’d been developing defenses. Resistances. Ways to endure, to survive. And sometimes, that meant hurting other...

Holy crap! Bernard had been worth two XP! One person! Two!

The last thing worth two XP had been Xinyi Shi. And I’d been fighting Bernard solo, with no rules to protect me.

.....

That thought reduced me to a huddled mess, weeping openly even though I had Serenity left. The sheer fear overwhelmed me, my defenses against it expended for the day.

What had I been doing, throwing myself into so many fights? So many unfair fights, with unlikely victories?

I WAS alive to worry about it, though.