Born a Monster

Chapter 90

Chapter 90: Born A Monster, Chapter 90 – God of the Forge

Born A Monster

Chapter 90

God of the Forge

“Tarath.” She said, extending her left hand.

I extended mine, and we shook.

“I’m glad you acknowledge your debt so readily.”

Debt? Acknowledge? What?

.....

The handshake?

I’d have to watch who I shook hands with.

“I take pride in fulfilling my obligations.”

“Expand into the food industry; I’ll let you know when you’re large enough to repay my favor.”

“What, you mean like a restaurant?”

“A good first step.”

What did I know about running a restaurant?

Maybe Burazish or Yinkada knew how to cook? If not, I could teach them.

I mean, I had the class, but I wasn’t fully trained in any of them.

I’d worried about finding quarters for my servants, but Burazish had already thought of that.

“Just rent my old apartment.” She said. “Say that you know there were heretics living there, and the landlord will give you a discount.”

And he did. It was quite affordable, and some of the furniture was still there.

“You each sleep in your old rooms.” I said. “I’ll take this closet by the door.”

“That’s silly.” Yinkada said. “Masters sleep in the master bedroom.”

“Masters with new slaves sleep by the door, so they can catch slaves attempting to escape.”

“Children, go see what furniture and toys remain in your rooms.”

When they were gone, she spoke. “So we are slaves?”

“I have a bill of sale, right here.”

“When are we to be branded?”

“When you show more interest in escaping than in earning your freedom.”

“Earn ... our... You know what a slave is, do you not?”

“A slave is a laborer under debt, who returns to being a citizen when they earn their owner double the debt owed? Or is it different, here?”

“Your world on the other side of the Jaws of Death must be so wonderful.”

[You have learned five names for the Twelve Daggers mountain range. You have earned ten Exploration XP. After divisor, 1XP has been awarded.]

“Not so much. Poverty, mud when it rains, tapeworms... we still have those.”

“What are... tapeworms?”

“They are parasites that live beneath your belly, and eat your food while it is digesting.”

“Fine. I’ll live without those.”

“How are you as a cook?”

“Miserable.”

“And as a cleaner?”

She waved her hands to indicate the apartment. “It usually looks much like this.”

I sighed. “I suppose your husband did all the finances?”

She spread her hands to either side.

“Fine. Call your children back here.”

She did nothing.

I sighed. “If I can train you to do things, I will. If you mistake my kindness for weakness, I’m certain I can sell you to a master more suited to your expectations.”

“And what will you tell my children?”

“I’ll tell them, praise Loki, that I had you butchered so that you could at least feed them.”

She closed her mouth, which had fallen open. “Children, come! The man of the house wishes to address us.”

I saw that whomever had swept through the apartment for possessions had left Yinkada a straw-filled doll.

#

I was one year old, and had ten classes across eight archetypes. I’d earned two of those classes by doing things. I had raised myself from statistics of zero to twos and threes. And yes, there were more close scrapes than I cared to count, but –

But I was about to learn how exceptional that was.

Burazish was twenty-seven, and was third level Housewife, a social class. She had a bunch of skills for navigating the travails of daily life and resolving familial disputes. Most of what she could do, socially, was more than counteracted by her current status as a slave and a pariah.

Mervpin was eleven, and almost a first level Merchant, also a social class. He, at least, could do accounting and basic mercantile negotiations. And he knew he was close to breaking through, gaining his once in a lifetime bonus of development points. He wanted some of those points to go toward becoming an alchemist.

Yinkada was seven and had no class. She liked knitting and playing with dolls.

For this, I was near bankrupt and even owed a debt?

Thank you, Sholwyr, for warning me, if not about the particulars.

“Okay, then. We’re going to start by learning how to make money.”

“You aren’t selling my daughter.” What was Burazish going on about?

“Nobody said anything about selling anyone. I’m talking about work.”

“As junk merchants?”

“Yes, Burazish. As junk merchants. If you can’t do that, then let me know right now. I’ll sell the three of you as a lot, so you can at least start together.”

“Junk is yucky, mommy.”

“Nobody buys entire families.”

Mervpin looked nervous.

“Mervpin, tell your mother the sorts of places that hire families.”

Mines, lumber yards, quarries, inns.

“So you tell me, Burazish. Junk merchants to restaurant? Or do you want to ...”

She muttered something.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s start with cooking meals. Where are ingredients kept?”

That closet had its own ecosystem going.

“Oh. Okay, let’s start with cleaning. Someone find some bags.” I wasn’t going to eat this stuff in front of them, but I wasn’t going to let it go to waste, either.

We ended up using pillowcases, swept what we could into rags. “Okay, get sleep. That’s as good as we’ll get tonight. Food and water are priorities tomorrow.”

Burazish looked offended. “And firewood. We’ll need to boil that water.”

The woman was an endless reserve of complaints and nit-picking. Who picks such a woman for a wife? I mean, clearly Harathezz had.

But... she wasn’t wrong. The toxins had seeped into the ground, poisoned the wells. A mild enough poison, as poisons went. But prolonged exposure was exactly the stuff that could lead to me being declared a heretic.

I needed to find a way around that. Turning Mervpin into an alchemist may help with that.

So... how did I help someone get a class that I myself didn’t have?

#

“All right, what we’re looking for is food that these restaurants are about to throw out. Don’t offer to pay them, we don’t have coin yet.”

.....

“What do you mean? You have coin.” Burazish said.

“Fine.” I pulled the coins from my inventory, placed them into her hands. “You carry the coin. Just realize that is it. There is no more. Get food, clothing, anything we can cook. Flour and eggs and oil and salt, not bread. We cook our own food.”

“This is not all your coin.”

“Talk to your son about how much he paid for Yinkada. And get bags and soap. If you can find it, get scouring power or sand.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Ground seashells, crushed pumice, that sort of thing. Oh, and if we’re to make Mervpin an alchemist, we’ll need a ceramic bowl and a ceramic stick called a pestle.”

“Mortar and pestle? His father would never buy him such things.”

“His father, bless the mercy of Loki, is hardly around to forbid it, is he?”

I might as well have slapped her. “If there is money left over, I will buy these things.”

“Thank you.”

“I will need to take Yinkada shopping with me. There is too much for one person to carry.”

“Yinkada, today you go with your mother. Tomorrow, Mervpin and I will teach you how to find the treasures among the garbage.”

“No, I might need Mervpin’s arms as well.”

“Make do with yourself and Yinkada, we cannot afford for all of us to go shopping.”

“I might not have room for his mortar and pestle.”

“Mother!”

“Then there is not room.” I said. “Buy what you can, we’ll live off the change for as much of the week as we can. Meet us at the apartment.”

“As you command, should Loki will it.”

“Praise to the name of Loki.”

“You don’t like mom much, do you?”

“I’m debating looking up the laws on collaring, branding, and whipping because of her, yes.”

“It’s a silver a day to look at those scrolls! You must be wealthy.”

“Not anymore. Every copper dollor that I had is in your mother’s hands. Is she able to shop?”

“She can haggle with the oldest of fishwives, sir. Your coin is safe in her hands.”

“Let us see if we can find something we can repair and sell.”

“It all looks like garbage to me.”

“The trick is to look at each individual piece, some of the treasures hide under others.”

“Oh, this blanket is torn. If we have a seamstress, we can get it fixed, but nobody will buy it.”

“Ah, but your blankets have been taken, and a fixed blanket is better than none.”

“Oh! Well, if we can get a wheel attached, I’ll bet we could fill this wheelbarrow with things for home!”

“I thought I saw half a shovel back here...”

“We don’t need a shovel, we’d need...”

“A hammer, and a screwdriver.”

“But half a shovel... oh!”

#

And so, we brought home a wheelbarrow full of goods. The wheelbarrow was stolen that night, but it wasn’t hard to find another, this one with a broken handle. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

“I’m very hungry.” Mervpin said.

“Your mother is very late.”

It was an hour and a half before she and Yinkada arrived, in proper garments, gaudy baubles, and fingernails painted like harlots.

“I notice there is no food.” I said.

“Correct.” Burazish said. “I notice you have failed to properly feed my son, your slave. That is quite illegal. Starting tomorrow, you will obey me, or I will report your behavior to the city watch.”

“Give me the remaining coin.”

“There is no remaining coin. Shall I summon the watch?”

“Do so.” I said. “Do so, now, or I will.”

She snorted. “Fine, let’s go into the street, and find one now.”

And we went, and reported. There were four of them.

“And, neither of you have a holy symbol of Loki?” the guard asked.

“No. My master hasn’t provided me one.”

“Praise the name of Loki, but I am a heathen. I follow no single god.”

One of the guards set a hand on my shoulder. “You, sir, are under arrest.”

“I submit myself to local law.” I said.

“You, ma’am, will appear in court tomorrow at dawn.”

“Of course, watchman.”

Ah, public cells.

Both of my cellmates had orange-tinted skin, yellow eyes, and bad teeth.

“You will service us tonight, and you will live to remember tonight for a long time.”

I sent him a party invite, which he declined.

“What trickery is that?” he said, swinging a fist toward my abdomen.

I had Improved Grab. I caught his arm, used the inertia to swing around to his knees. Why did people make this easy for me? You’d think if people mocked Pankratios so much, they’d know ways to counter them.

I had him on the floor, locked arm and opposite leg. “Idiot. My experience divisor is over twenty. What’s yours?”

I drew on his limbs. “More or less than twenty?”

Again.

“Less. Okay, less.”

I released his holds. “And you?”

“I still get one of the bunks.” He said.

“Bunks? I have a trial tomorrow. You two get some sleep.”

I slept, of course. Without control over my emotions, any legal system worthy of the name would be that much harder to navigate.

“Great and fair Garguliik!” I said.

“Did you or did you not assure me of your ability to feed the entire family?” he asked.

“I entrusted the coins and a shopping list to the mother.”

“Is this true?” he asked her.

“It is your honor.”

“The slaves are to be released immediately. For your poor judgement, heathen, you will be taken to Sulphur Springs, and hurled into the Pits of Thor. May the evil one have mercy on your soul.”

“Matron freewoman, come forward with the court fee.”

“But I have no coins, your honor!”

“And yet, you have expertly painted fingernails. She and her family are found debtors to the state. They are to be auctioned off as slaves. Since the port auction is recovering, they are to be auctioned to the guild of Pleasure Women.”

“No, no, you can’t!” she screamed.

But he could, and did.

#