Rough guttural voices he recognized as belonging to the cat-men, or Ferralin as he now knew they were called, spoke an unintelligible language. Two distinct voices bantered back and forth separated by the occasional laugh and or scream.
Bullies, there was no doubt in Actaeon's mind. He had been the target of more than one bully in his day. The cruelty of them was easy enough to discern in any language. It also served to prove just how real this place was.
As much as Actaeon abhorred bullies he began to sense a possible opportunity. Maybe the situation could lend itself to meeting his goal of completing his quest.
“Hey,” Actaeon shouted. “Leave him alone!” He made several assumptions with the statement but it didn't matter if he was right about the creatures sex. What mattered was the result of his outcry.
“Shut up, hoomans.” The first Ferralin said a it came into view.
Well well, if it wasn't the leopard striped fuck. This was one of the two that had helped stick the collar on him when he had first arrived. Actaeon was pleased with just the act of interrupting the beast. If he didn't get anything else or besides annoying the guy, so be it. But that didn't mean he stopped trying.
“Does it take two of you to pick on that one fellow?” Still assuming he knew the sex of the harassed. “Not cat enough to beat him one on one?” He gave the cat an appraising glance. “No, definitely not. You look like way too much of a bitch to fight a battle all alone. Am I right? I bet I am.”
“You will shut your mouth or I will shut it for you.” The leopard spotted Ferralin said.
“Oh yeah? You going to open this cage and come in here to do that? I'd like to see you try. A basic bitch like you, I could probably kick your ass with both hands and a leg tied behind my back.” Actaeon said.
To this the Ferralin smiled. Actaeon swallowed a lump that suddenly formed in his throat. The look from the Ferralin said he knew something that he was going to teach to Actaeon.
The creature pulled a familiar bronze colored amulet from its robe. It pointed it at Actaeon and it's smile deepened. Intense pain originating from the collar around his neck and shot through his body. Actaeon's back arched as every muscle in his body tensed. He couldn't see as his eyes had rolled back. He couldn't talk because his jaw had clenched shut and his tongue was busy trying to push it's was through the the roof of his mouth. He couldn't do anything other than feel soul wrenching pain.
Then it stopped after what felt like an eternity, but was probably a couple seconds.
“That was stupid hooman’s first lash. Speak to me again and I lash you till you make wet on yourself,” the leopard Ferralin said. He waited for long enough to ensure Actaeon wouldn't open his mouth then he moved on.
It took a few moments for the spasms in random muscle groups to subside. After which he laid on the ground panting.
“If only you were as smart as you are brave,” Tanveer’s voice floated over from the cage across the walkway. Actaeon looked up to see her lean forward into the meager light. Her eyes sparked like rich emeralds. “Why would you stick your nose out to save a Ferrelin? They are not worth it.,” She said.
“I had a plan.” Actaeon wheezed out. “Not a great plan by the look and feel of it.”
“You were going to entice him in and make him your furry woman?” Cane said from next to me. He laughed as well as some other close enough to hear the conversation. Tanveer did not join in.
“No I…” Actaeon was cut off by the sound of slow footsteps. “Bingo,” he mumbled.
A small Ferralin stepped into view. It’s fur was black with a little grey at its throat. The size of it made Actaeon think it was female. His assumption being the females were smaller than males. That didn't matter, what did was capitalizing on the situation.
“Are you okay?” Actaeon asked.
The Ferralin froze in mid step. It's eye shifted to look at Actaeon without turning it's head. “You are the one with the advice to stand up for myself,” he said. His voice was far too deep to be female. Or so Actaeon thought. He had a lot to learn about the different species that inhabited this world.
“Yeah, that's me. Why do you let them do that to you?” Movement from Tanveer’s cell split his attention for a moment. She had tilted her head to the side and now watched the exchange.
“You should mind your own business, slave.”
“Sorry, I heard someone in a situation similar to my own and couldn't help but to say something.”
That got it’s attention. Using a reaction Actaeon had not seen the Ferralin use before this one showed its anger. His large ears laid down flat against his skull and he bared his fangs. “I am not like you!” He spat between clenched teeth.
“I didn't mean to offend you.” Actaeon held up his hands in surrender. “I simply meant you were a slave to the whims of those two. Not that you were a slave like me. Do you understand what I mean?” Though this one spoke well, Actaeon was afraid there might be a language barrier. He hoped the question would get the cat to think of a response and not retaliate for some imagined slight.
“Yes, I see.” He sighed. “It is not your place to worry over me. You train and get stronger. Put on a good show for the master. That is all you need do, human.”
“Actaeon.”
“What?” The Ferralin snarled.
“My name is Actaeon. What's yours?”
The Ferralin narrowed its eyes at Actaeon. It took a step to leave but no more. “Barrackus,” it said. Then it left.
Tanveer's eyes followed Barrackus until he was long out of sight. “What was that?” Her gaze shifted back to Actaeon. “Are you trying to become a trustee? If so, you will need to kiss the back side of a stronger Ferralin. That weakling will get you nowhere.”
“No, Tanveer. I am not trying to become a trustee. I didn't even know that was a thing until you mentioned it. I'm just being friendly. My mom used to tell me the best way to deal with assholes was to kill them with kindness.”
“Your mother was an idiot,” Tanveer said. “Brute force is the only way to deal with assholes.”
“We will see,” Actaeon replied.
“Get some sleep now. Tomorrow we rise early for our journey,” Tanveer said.
“You got it, boss.” Actaeon replied. “And I don’t appreciate you talking shit about my mother.”
He laid back down and closed his eyes. Before he could get to sleep a low clicking sound caught his attention. Actaeon looked toward the source.
Cane lay on the floor of his cell looking at Actaeon. “I know what you are about. Clever. I just hope your scheme bears fruit.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Actaeon whispered.
“It is wise to hold your cards close to your chest while you run your game. Have no fear from me. You are my friend and I will not betray you. Friends are hard to come by in this place. They must be treasured and kept safe.”
That statement planted a seed of doubt in Actaeon. He had never gained a friend by having two water cooler conversations. This fast friendship was suspect. The knowledge of there being trustees here made his distrust run much deeper. He could not afford to place his trust in the wrong person with his quest on the line.
“How is it that we are friends after a couple conversations?” Actaeon asked. Best way to get answers has always been to ask questions.
“That is one of the reasons I like you, Actaeon. Your inquisitive mind. Most of those here are quickly broken and only ask questions when they are told what to ask.” Cane chuckled. “I have always been an excellent judge of character. I see in you a man I can trust and someone I should get behind. As your friend, I will have your back in the only ways a man of my meager skills can. As long as you do right by me I am your man, Actaeon.”
“That's… wow. I wasn't expecting that, Cane. Uh, thanks, I think.”
Cane laughed again. “Just continue to fight and get stronger. Do not worry about anything else, Actaeon. The rest will fall into place. Now get some rest. Tanveer is correct. You have a b
ig day ahead of you.” With that Cane rolled over. A couple seconds later he was snorting softly.
Actaeon rolled onto his back. He winced at a stabbing pain in his back. He pulled the rock from under himself and raised his hand to throw it. Then he thought better of it. The chance of hitting someone was too high. He set it on the ground.
Cane’s words still worried him. Was anyone that good at judging people they didn't know? His gut told him there was more to the story than he was seeing. He was going to keep a close eye on Cane, once he returned that was.
The sandman took his sweet time to show up. It was Actaeon’s fault really. His mind continued to wander back to a time before he became stuck in Char.
He wondered what Davar might say about the situation he was in. The man always had words of wisdom fashioned from a lifetime of experiences. Davar would probably say something about lemons and lemonade.
The person he dwelled on the most was Rebecca. For months they played together in the same guild. They always laughed at each other's jokes and had each other's back. Then there was the quest for his class mount. It was a tough one with mobs far enough from his level to make the challenge too much for him. With Rebecca's, aka Angelkiller67, help he was able to clear the mobs and complete the quest.
Those quests saw the beginnings of their relationship. It was after that she agreed to chat IRL. Soon after was the first date and time spent with a gorgeous woman he shared interests with. They hit it off like Paris and Helena of Troy had, minus the sex and war.
His continued thoughts of her made for a night of pleasant dreams.
CHAPTER 18
Early morning found Larion in the barn on his family's property in a small workshop. Like everyone else he added the tools needed for the profession he chose. There was just one thing he needed, the Alchemist Skill Book Transmute.
Larion set the recipe scrolls on the table off to the side. He needed the space in the center for the skill book. Which he set down as he took a seat. This being his first skill book he was unsure of what to expect, or how to use it. Since it was a book he figured reading it would be the best thing to do.
Blue-green light spilled out as he opened the cover. The symbol on the cover was drawn on the first page in intricate detail. Before he had a chance to study it the page flipped on its own. Then the next and the next. The pages flipped by faster creating a small breeze that cooled his face.
Larion couldn’t look away. As the pages went by images filled his head. There was a glass beaker seated over a flame with boiling blue liquid inside. Then there was a glass ball full of liquid that exploded when the hand holding it threw it. More images came to him faster than he could comprehend. The images generated pain that increased in intensity as they flashed by in increasing speed.
Larion screamed. The back cover of the book slammed shut. He clutched his pounding head. The book burst into flames. The fire consumed it in moments reducing it to ash.
A minute after the book was gone so too was his head pain. He blinked away the remnants of tears and looked at the ash covered desk. Where the book had been there was a rectangular burn mark. That was something he saw somewhere, he just couldn’t …
Larion jumped to his feet. On the other side of the barn there was a stand made of metal. He rushed to it. On the stand he found the same burn mark. Or what looked like multiple sets burned on top of each other. The outlines were skewed and some were faded, Larion guessed from age. His family used this stand to learn new skill. He should have done the same.
“Oh man, Pa is going to be pissed.” He turned to look back at the desk. “That thing is older than me by a century if not more.”
“Which is why you will have to strip the top and stain it.” Larion spun to see his father walking in. “Don’t fret, this isn’t the first time someone has used a skill book on the desk.” He stopped next to it and rapped his knuckles against the top. “She is tough and can take it, but that doesn’t mean we leave her as she is. Understood?”
“Yes, Pa.”
“And that is why I know you will go far, but that doesn’t translate into common sense. However,” he held up his index finger. “you learn quickly from your mistakes. It's a good thing. That includes … What skill have you learned?”
“I was given an alchemy book, Transmute, from the new merchant. I purchased some recipe scrolls to go along with it.”
His father frowned. “You were given a book?” His eyebrow rose with the question. Larion knew his father’s stance on charity. A man worked for what was his, no exceptions.
“Yes, I bought a bundle of books for Eve and the merchant decided to give me a skill book for being so kind to my friend.”
“Eve, the girl that is always around?” His pa asked.
“Yes, sir.”
His frown melted into a smile. “She is a pretty one and she comes from a good family. I’m glad to see you finally decided to start courting her.”
Larion held himself still. Inside, he felt the slap of his father’s words. If Larion had the choice he would be courting Eve. But it took two to enter into courtship, and Eve was not a willing participant. So there was no courtship to speak of.
“That is not the case, sir. We are just friends.”
“Ah. I see. If that is the case maybe you should spend your time with a girl that you do wish to court. As a member of this family it is your responsibility to bring about the next generation. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes Pa. I’m just not ready yet.”
His father laughed. “I understand that, believe me. Just don’t take too long to be ready. Okay?”
“You got it, Pa.”
“Good, now get some alchemy recipes made and level that skill. It is a useful one and I am glad you chose it.”
Larion’s vision darkened. He rocked back and forth as his balance failed him. “Zzzzt… need to … Coming for … Zzzzt … RUN!” His head split from the voice that was so loud and so unclear.
“Larion! What is it?” His father shouted. Larion could not see him only hear his voice. “Talk to me!”
Larion’s legs buckled. He felt the impact in his bones as he hit the ground. Then all was dark and quiet.
CHAPTER 19
Rough hands shook Actaeon awake.
“Get up hoomans. It is time to go.” He was greeted by the rough voice of Barrackus. “You must get your things and go out to the wagons.”
“We're traveling by wagon?” His dreams of life in a world of technology and automobiles addled his half sleeping mind. “What are you …” Actaeon got a good look at the Ferralin. “Oh.” Disappointment was heavy in his voice. “I'm up, I’m coming.”
“Move quick, hoomans!” Barrackus tapped the pendant he wore.
A jolt of pain shot out from Actaeon’s collar. He jumped to his feet. The collar was far more effective than coffee. “Damn it, Barrackus! I said I'm up. No need for that shit.”
“Hoomans talk nice or Barrackus shock again,” the Ferralin replied.
“I'm sorry, buddy, but that shit hurts. It wouldn't have killed you to give me a second.”
Barrackus tilted his head to the left and his eyes narrowed to slits. “What is buddy?” His eyes went wide after he asked. “No, no time for question. We go now. You answer on the road.”
Actaeon followed Barrackus keeping up with his hurried pace. “You're coming too, Barrackus?”
“Yes, Hoomans. Must keep eyes on Lord Lurge investments. That what Barrackus do.”
“That is understandable. I bet you are good at your job too?” Actaeon prodded.
Barrackus stopped. Actaeon nearly ran into his back. He was sure if they connected he would have bowled the little guy over. Barrackus turned and faced Actaeon. He kept his head lowered and his ears pressed against his skull. “Barrackus not best. Others say this all the time. Barrackus lucky they let him keep working.”
Actaeon placed his hand on the Ferralin’s shoulder. After hearing the treatment Barrackus received from the ot
hers he wasn’t surprised by the statement. “I don't know if you are as good as them, or any good at all. I know that all we can do is give it our all. If we come up short, maybe it means we should be doing something else. Do not be too hard on yourself Barrackus. I have a feeling you are full of talent, you just haven't tapped into it yet.”
Barrackus raised his head enough to look up at Actaeon. For the briefest of moments the cat-man’s eyes softened. Then he turned and continued through the corridor without speaking.
They came to a door on the opposite side of the circle. One Actaeon had never seen before. Barrackus knocked three times. The door was pulled open from the other side. The Ferralin marched through.
Actaeon was getting through to him and was sure he could win the creature’s trust. The good and bad thing about his quest was that it had no instructions on how to complete it. Guidance would be nice but the lack of it left him free to do whatever he had to in order to complete the quest.
Actaeon followed Barrackus through the door. He stopped short. Given the sand floor and the muted colors of the arena, Actaeon expected a desert landscape. What he got was a wide meadow split by a dirt road. Beyond the meadow was a copse of large trees with wide leaves. Unlike the arena and slave pens, the air was crisp and cool. He took in his first lung full of fresh air since before being pulled into this game.
“Hurry, hoomans,” Barrackus shouted. The Ferralin stood next to the last wagon in a line of five. The first two were covered much like those that traversed the United States to settle in the west. The third had goods piled up in the bed that was covered by a hardy looking canvas. The last two wagons carried cages.
Tanveer and Kenishera occupied the first cage cart in the line. Kenshiro was in the last one. Barrackus stood by the rear holding the cage door open. With an impatient shrug, he waved Actaeon over.
Actaeon climbed into the cage joining Kenshiro. “Morning,” Actaeon said.
“Good morning, Actaeon. I hope you slept well,” Kenshiro said.
“About as well as a caged rat.” Actaeon sat on a wooden plank that served as a bench seat next to Kenshiro.
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