《Fell Deeds》 1. I didnt sign up for this Fell Deeds Chapter 1 I didn''t sign up for this My name is Crom....probably. Its not a great name is it? I say probably because I''m not really sure. I do not understand the language my "parents?" speak yet but Crom seems to be the word used most often when they have their attention centered on me. I suppose it could mean shit or something like that though... Me? I''m a brat. I know... Why is a baby so self aware? Long story that.. I may as well tell it as long as I''m talking to myself. Its a better use of time than counting stains on the ceiling. Let us go back a few months. Back to another time or place. Could be either or both. I''m still confused on this myself... Anyway... back... {Location Earth. Baltimore, Maryland D Block Fort Carrol Super-max Prison 2072 AD.} I lay there in my cell counting the stains and pockmarks on the concrete ceiling; I even named a few of my favorites. During that time my name was Abe Bannoc. I was somewhere in my mid forties in terms of age. I''m just over six feet tall with a scarred and battered body thickly packed with muscle. Sounds good so far right? Wrong. I was also bald and blind in one eye due to a close encounter with an FAE. My left ear looked like a candle left too close to a fire and I was sporting a rather impressive potbelly which accented my bushy salt and pepper beard perfectly. If I had to describe myself i would say I looked like a nightmarish version of Santa Claus who instead of delivering toys spent most of his time being shot down by anti-aircraft artillery. Not exactly model material. Not exactly what makes the ladies swoon. More like what makes children stare and cry in the grocery store. The very personification of broken dreams, violence, and hardship. I was in that cell for entirely trumped up charges. Something about murder, trafficking weapons, kidnapping, false imprisonment, theft, arson, and assault. All perfectly acceptable during the war but then the war ended. I pissed off a few officers in my time and once everyone stopped trying to kill each other they decided it was time to settle up with me. I was just a merc so I became a convenient scapegoat. Lots of horrible bloody things were hung on me and only half were even my doing... well.... sixty percent my doing...maybe seventy-five percent... Didn''t matter. I was well over it. *tok tok tok* I heard the guard coming for me. It was time to leave my cozy home away from home. I looked to the ceiling and bid farewell to Judith, Marcus, and Luditz; Three stains named after the three instructors I most hated in high school. I wondered why I couldn''t have gotten a cell that once housed an inmate with an artistic flair. Most of the cells Id had before this displayed wild graffiti depicting everything from religious content to pornography. Those were the days. This cell was too sterile and gray for my liking. Its flat plain walls offended my carefully cultivated sense of aesthetics. Not one doodle of a big breasted amazon being back-doored by a horse or burning religious figure promising salvation that will never come. Boring... The steel collar around by neck vibrated softly and made the whining noise that always set my teeth on edge. "Taking no chances eh Dicker?..." I muttered. "Abraham Bannoc. Get your ass up. Its time" The guard was an ugly slab of muscle and bone who had a permanent look of indifference carved into his apelike face. Maybe Five and a half feet tall and almost as wide. Milo Dierker looked like a fireplug with a blond buzz-cut. I got along with him ok. Just another dumb slob doing a rough job he hated. "Whatever you say Dierker" I grunted I sat up on my cot and stretched to get the kinks out. A myriad of grunts,pops, and curses saw to my feet in style. I turned to my Toilet/Sink combo, relieved myself, and splashed some water on my shaggy face to freshen up. Always liked to look my best. I then turned to Dierker as he opened the cell door. "So how do I look?" "Gorgeous." "I think the orange of these jumpsuits really bring out my eyes" "The shit brown one or the milky white monstrosity on the left?" "Flatterer." "........" "What''s wrong Milo? Don''t you love me anymore?" "They changed the method Abe" "To what? Hanging? Gas? Can''t say I care. Dead is dead." "They think they got the machine working. That''s why the collar is activated. You''ve been volunteered as a test subject" The "collar" is actually a short range molecular transportation device. A particularly nasty bit of tech that simply moves part of my neck a few feet to the right or left depending on which unit is activated. The problem is that the rest of me wont be going on that trip. Best be a good boy or somebody will press a button that makes me shorter. I remember finding it funny that it was the outlawed use of this very technology that sparked the war in the first place. That irony was not lost on me... ".....great.. Any clue where I''m being sent?" "Thanos 226" Thanos is a prison planet that has no walls, guards, rules, and little chance of survival. What is does have is hellish dust storms, blisteringly hot days, frigid nights, and a population of carnivorous flora and fauna that feeds primarily on its population of equally carnivorous prisoners. Its multiple moons play hell with the tides and weather making life there all but impossible on most of the planets surface. Prime real-estate going cheap! Step right up! Usually it takes years of travel in a cryo-capsule to get there but if those psychopaths actually got the Machine working... "The hits just keep on coming don''t they Milo?" *Shrugs* "Better than getting scragged ain''t it?" "Is it? If it actually works maybe. Last time they fired that thing up the rider ended up and a screaming lump of meat half fused to the wall. I think I should have drowned myself in the toilet." "Maybe you will get lucky and materialize in deep space. Instant freeze. it''s immortality of a sort" "Thanks Milo. You always did know how to cheer me up" "Get moving" Milo led me down the hall of D block of which I was the only guest. I passed a few other cells which sported some of that enviable graffiti I mentioned earlier. One prisoner had apparently gotten extra ambitious and created a full wall mural of what looked like a yellow gorilla with giant breasts dry humping a caricature of our current president. Interesting. That gorilla looked familiar.. "Hey Milo..." Milo glanced into the cell I gestured toward and shrugged. "Looks a bit like you buddy" "Also immortality of a sort" "Never pegged you as the philosophical type...." Snow and gale force winds assailed us as we arrived at the center of the island a few minutes later. Fort Carrol is a leftover from some war a few centuries back. Milo tried to tell me the history once but I never had much interest in such things. All i remember is that its a fortress off the coast of what used to be Baltimore before an Axon Bomb turned it into a crater. Now Baltimore is a perfectly round bay. Carrol is a hexagon shaped island only accessible by ferry. In the center is an 80 foot steel dome with a double door that looks like it could stop a 120 mm shell. All it needs is a big placard reading "All hope abandon ye who enter here." and my guts would have finished their transformation into ice water. Milo placed his palm onto the plate by the door and then we waited. "Why is it so fucking cold out here?" I grumbled "Close to forty degrees latitude and its February" "Cute" "You asked" The door opened and a rush of warm air greeted me as I walked into the dome. We staggered through the door while shaking off our dusting of ice. The doors slid shut with a pneumatic hiss and locked with a barely audible click behind me. Inside the dome were a number a pale skinny men wearing the obligatory white lab coat and one freckle faced redheaded woman in gray rumpled coveralls ordering them around like a drill sergeant. They surrounded the machine making whatever adjustments lab geeks make when they are about to ruin a mans day. The machine itself looked something like an open MRI surrounded by a ring of 8 things that looked like copper and glass arc generators. "Creepy. Can I go home now?" "Man up Abe" "You wanna go next Milo?" "Id rather piss glass. Get going." The redhead noticed us at this point and stomped over looking halfway between excited and annoyed. Her stomping ceased as she stopped right in front of me and gave me a look from head to toe as if sizing me up for a coffin. I gave her the same treatment. Dark red hair pulled back in a careless ponytail, rectangular glasses perched on a freckled nose. Deep green eyes that were slightly bloodshot and shadowed. Maybe five foot two with a slender figure as though she often forgets to do more than drink a cup of coffee and cram a power-bar in her mouth before going back to work. She looked...maybe 16 to my eyes. She crinkled her nose and pursed her lips as though she had made up her mind about me. She stuck out her hand and.. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. "Dr. Chloe O''Hannagan. Nice to meet you mister..." "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya" I replied. Milo snorted and walked off to the side of the room. "Eh? I am sure it was something else..." She started fumbling through the papers on her clipboard. Suddenly I felt very very old. "...haaa...... Its Abe. Abe Bannoc..." "Ah. Right. That was it! Thank you for volunteering Mr.. Bannoc." "Pretty sure I didn''t" "Eh?" "Volunteer. I didn''t. Not that it matters" "I see. Well as long as you are here its fine" "...right" "Now Mr. Bannoc I need you to strip" "...I appreciate the thought but we just met and I wouldn''t want you to think I''m easy so.." "Just strip!" "Yes mam." Seems I had lost my touch. I wasn''t as pretty, young, or thin as I used to be so I didn''t take it too hard. After stripping she gave me another once over. "Hmmm. You''re a big one aren''t you?" "Um... I like to tell myself that" "We have to calibrate the machine with all of your physical data. Please step into the scanner so we can get your weight and other measurements. " I stepped onto a two by two square pedestal which lit up under my bare feet. "Ugh. I gotta see your hairy ass before lunch Abe? Cruel and unusual" "Stuff it Dicker" Milo snorted. "So how does it look Doc?" "Hmm? Oh!" She looked up from her console as if just now remembering I was a living breathing person instead of a list of data and calculations. "Abraham Bannoc. Age 43. Weight 112.037 kilos, Height 187.96 centimeters. width... Um... What happened to your head?" "Fuel Air explosion" "Ouch'''' "You have no idea" "Well lets get you cleaned up and prepped" "joy" She led me to stall which when closed hit me with jets of hot water and disinfectants from every angle followed by blasts of hot air. Not a good time to say the least. On the up side I don''t think Ive been this clean since I was hosed down and scrubbed raw by my mother after I was sprayed by a skunk as a child. I was then injected with all manner of chemicals that were explained to me as it happened. I probably should have paid attention there but I was getting closer to the Machine at this point and was getting a bit jittery. The lab geeks guided me to a sort of ceramic chair on rails leading up to the Machine. I was told to sit and once I had was strapped in tightly. I could just barely breath. The chair started sliding back into place and the white-coats scatted around the room....mostly behind protective shields I noted. The chair locked itself into place and elevated me a foot or so off the floor before tilting back a bit to give me yet another ceiling to stare at. At least this one had a skylight and odd bits of equipment to ponder over. One of the white coats came over and removed my collar. "Hey Doc. What is this thing called anyway? "The Machine" She replied absently "Yeah but what is its ...er...scientific name?" "Is doesn''t have a name as such. It has a serial number which is long and an acronym which is longer. I can not accurately recite either off hand. Most of us call it the Machine though Ted over there insists on calling it Scotty." Ted waved to identify himself. "Scotty?" He just grinned. "Whatever" At this point I noticed a slight discoloration on the far wall near the blast doors I entered though. It looked as if that steel plate had been replaced recently. I remembered the story Id heard about the last poor bastard who rode on "Scotty" and shuddered. "Is this going to hurt Doc?" "Most likely" "............Is that something you should admit to?" "Mr.. Bannoc we are going to be disassembling you at the subatomic level and transporting you over 30 trillion miles and then slapping you back together remotely. You will be reduced to base energy. Did you think that would feel good? You''re going to be shooting through space for something like 6 years before enough of you gathers in the catch on the other end to reassemble. At least we think you wont be conscious during transport." "What do you mean ENOUGH of me?..... And you THINK I wont be conscious?" Wont my brain be in bits at that point? How would I be aware?!? "Well there will likely be some tissue loss during transport" "So Im going to lose weight? "If you mean an arm or leg then possibly though it is not certain. As far as consciousness goes it is hard to say. We are still studying the human brain and are as of yet unable to ascertain exactly how memories are stored. Some say it is simply a question of energy and since you will soon be reduced to little more than energy... Well.. We shall see yes?" She was using much too whimsical a tone for the weight of her words in my opinion. Frankly this girl made my balls want to shrivel up and hide. Scary. "..........So there is no guarantee I will have all of my limbs or even be able to remember anything even if I make it through?" "Exactly." "Can I back out now?" "No... but even if you could those injections would kill you in an hour if we don''t push forward with the experiment." I really should listened to those explanations. "Ha..haha.. Ok... If its really going to hurt that bad can I have something to bite down on?" "Certainly not. We stripped you for a reason Mr. Bannoc. Any foreign matter would fuse with you during reassembly. You don''t want that." "Guess not" "Pussy" Milo muttered under his breath [Laugh it up monkey boy] "Are you ready Mr.. Bannoc? We need to get started soon or your body will be too unstable to last through the process." "............Not like I got a choice Doc. .... Lets do it" She nodded and fiddled with her computers for a bit then just stared at me as the eight generators around me fired up. I don''t remember much after that. Just that it did indeed hurt. Worse that being stabbed, shot, or burned. I was familiar with those and could cope with it more or less... This was something altogether different. It felt like being ripped apart with frozen tweezers through every inch of myself inside and out. I vaguely recall one of those generators flashing with fire and Doc O''hannagan screaming before the darkness took me. I think I dreamed after that.Specks of light in fuligin. Sensations of heat and cold. I do not think I want to remember all of it. {Location} ????? When I came back to myself I was cold and wet. I was unbearably weak and tired. I felt restrained at well as though I were tied up. Nothing seemed to make any sense. It seemed my awareness slipped in and out. I remember sounds of sobbing and then sounds of surprise and joy. I was having trouble breathing and couldn''t get my eyes to focus at all. I tried to ask what had happened to me. "...ck...hhk" [Eh?] I couldn''t speak at all. I started to panic a bit. Can''t see, move, speak, and my thinking was none too clear either. Shit! What is going on!? I''m not part of a wall of something am I!? I felt two monstrous hands close around me and was lifted into the air. A gigantic bearded face stared at me with wet eyes and what may or may not have been a smile. The face garbled some random noises at me before lifting me higher still and spinning himself and me around in circles as it hooted and hawed. I wondered if this is how those kids in the supermarkets felt when looking upon me. I decided to forgive them for their stares. I was then lowered into the waiting arms of another giant and bundled into some sort of rough towel or blanket. [At least I''m not cold now] I thought. After I was securely wrapped my face was pressed to what had to be the largest breast Id ever heard of in my life. I was starting to understand at this point. Instincts and hunger kicked in. I did what all creatures such as I did in that situation. I drank. Soon after that I fell asleep. 2. Were not in Kansas anymore. Fell Deeds Chapter 2 Not in Kansas Anymore A few months passed as I came to grips with my new situation. I had no clue what had gone wrong with the transport but something clearly had. I was a baby. Newborn. Wrinkled little bag of sputum and other wastes just waiting to pop. I''m guessing that the flash I saw was a malfunction in the Machine and I was not sent to Thanos 226 at all. This place had clear blue skies as far as I could tell from the window in this room. Thanos was supposed to have an ever present haze of gray dust darkening its atmosphere. Not Thanos then. Somebody fouled up the works. I decided it was Ted mostly because his grin had annoyed me. The people I have come to think of as my parents bustle about doing whatever it is people do on this world. My father was a large man. Much bigger than I used to be but looked kinder than I ever had. I admit that is not saying much. Saying someone looks kind when compared to my former visage is like saying a hyena looks cuddly when compared to a crocodile. He was thick of limb and heavily bearded. He had a high forehead with dark brown hair starting to recede above the temples and gray a bit near his ears. His face was craggy with high ruddy cheeks and a prominent nose which had an old scar stretching from the bridge across the right cheek just past his eye. His eyes were deep set and nearly black in color. He seemed to growl more than speak. My mother is plump little woman with dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and an abnormally huge bosom. She giggled and hummed as she went about her tasks never sitting in one spot long unless sleeping or feeding me. She gave off a conflicting aura of busy calm and tranquility which I found a bit uncomfortable. She would speak to me often which has helped me begin to understand a few of the words she used. The house itself appears to be made of timber beams and plaster. I do not know how large the house is as Ive yet to leave this room. I see no electronic devices of any kind. Even the few cups and other utensils Ive seen are made of wood or fired clay. The window has glass in it so they have at least that much technology. The smell of baking bread flooded the house most of the day which I enjoyed immensely. I could only hope to be free of my liquid diet as soon as humanly possible. My situation brought to mind stories Id read as a child which featured similar circumstances. I was reborn as a baby but that is where the similarities end. I was not summoned by wizards, gods, priests, or princesses nor was I reincarnated after saving some girl from being run over by a car or being stabbed by an acquaintance. Nope, Not me. I had the distinct honor of being reborn due to the efforts of half mad military scientists, the prison system, and the ineptitude of one grinning trekkie. Great. Nice start. For the moment I was just glad I had all my limbs. I wondered if I lost so much of myself in transport that only my memories were left. Did my memories imprint upon the first organism they encountered or something? Is that possible? Had I hijacked an innocent child? I tried not to think about it. Aside from much pissing and shitting of pants I spent the majority of my time sleeping and ...nursing... I am now firmly of the opinion that the real reason children do not remember these earliest years is due to the trauma of being forced to receive sustenance from our mother''s fat sweating tits... Its just creepy. I felt somehow violated after every meal. My mother sometimes had guests. They appeared to be other women from the area who had nothing better to do than poke and make those ridiculous goo goo noises at me. My mother beamed with pride in these moments. After about a year had passed I had become physically strong and coordinated enough to walk around the house. I discovered that my father was a baker which explained the smell of the place. My mother spent her time when not tending to me helping him. She milked one of the three cow in the pasture out back, churned butter, mended clothing, and brewed some sort of alcoholic beverage that my father was all too fond of. The house was fairly large. Constructed of thick rough hewn timber framing, plaster walls, cobblestone and wood floors, and a wood shingle roof. Other than the shop, nursery, and kitchen on the first floor there was a root cellar where my mother did her brewing, and living quarters on the second floor where my parents had their bedroom, den, and study.From the study I could climb onto the heavy wooden table and look out of the window to see the surroundings from the back of the house. The village or whatever was located in a mountain valley with a few sparse wooded areas and a terraced field here and there. I could see other evidence of a farming community like sheep grazing of the rolling hills and pigs penned near a small cobblestone dwelling. Our house was located on the side of a hill which I could just see over the top of from my position. There was a small river meandering through the valley floor about half a mile from it. I could just make out what looked like a mill perched on the riverside. I guessed it was where my father got his flour. Just as I was about to climb down I saw a girl of about 10 years stagger out of the mill with a sack on her shoulder that must have been half again her own weight. She tripped and fell bursting the sack with a big white cloud. A skinny bald man in overalls came out and started yelling and beating the girl with a length of rope. I sighed and returned to the first floor. [Its the same in every world I guess] I learned that my parents are named Bols and Neela. It took a while because A I tend to zone in and out of their conversations as I mentally stumble over the unfamiliar language and B Bols speaks only slightly more often than he bursts into green flames and gives birth to unicorns. He was pacing back and forth across the room that served as the bakeries selling floor. Every second or third thumping step was accented by a grunt or muttered curse. Seemed he was in a bad mood. My mother Neela said something that seemed to calm him after which he settled his great bulk into a sturdy wooden chair that creaked under his weight. Bols began tapping his foot in impatience after a moment causing my mother to sigh before shuffling off to continue whatever it was she was busying herself with. I stood near the counter staring at Bols . After a moment he noticed me, took a deep calming breath before displaying a big toothy grin. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. [The hell?!] His teeth were... Amazing to say the least. Huge white slabs each the size of my hand crowded his mouth but what really set them apart where the four big fangs that jutted up from his lower jaw. Id never noticed before as the great bear of a man spent most of his time working and said little when he was around me. I then noticed that his ears were slightly pointed and the nails on his fingers where abnormally thick and long. [Ok.... That is different] He seemed to pick up on my observations and grumbled something that I could only understand a little of. I picked out the words "Rock" and "Half" as well as my own name. He snorted at the confused look on my face and was about to say more when a knock came at the door. Bols clamped his teeth shut as he lurched to his feet. He stomped over and swung the door open wide startling the person on the other side. [ah] I recognized this one. It was the girl from the mill Id seen earlier from the window. She was younger than I thought. Perhaps 5 or 6 years of age. Her thread-worn tunic and short pants were sweat stained and smudged with flour in places. Her arms and legs were thin and bruised and the left side of her face was red. She had a mop of unkempt black hair tied back with an old bandanna to keep it out of her face. She was a cute little urchin under the grime and bruises. She got over her shock and stooped to lift the heavy looking sack at her feet. Bols stopped her and lifted it as easily as if it were filled with helium instead of flour. He then pulled the girl inside with his other hand and closed the door before lumbering into the back rooms with the sack. I watched him go then turned to the girl who stood staring at her feet nervously in the center of the room looking much like an abandoned puppy. I walked over and stood directly in front of her. She took a half step back and averted her eyes from my gaze. She wasn''t very much taller though she was clearly older than I. Her height was perhaps 6 or 7 inches above my own. I took another half step forward which caused her to back away again. I admit that I was starting to enjoy her reactions. I kept moving toward her until she had backed herself into the wall. Now she looked frightened and near panic. I reached out a hand and flinching back she squeezed her eyes shut as if bracing herself for a hit. [Wow.... This kid has it rough} I started dusting the dirt and flour from her clothing with my small infants hands. The girl stood rigid against the wall not daring to move or breath. After a while I Stepped back and stared up at her. She just stood there shivering slightly with eyes shut and lip quivering. [So afraid of everything...shit.......] She reminded me of my youngest cousin back in Louisiana....before my uncle went nuts and played chicken with a freight train while she and her mother were tied up in the trunk of his car. She too was a frightened little creature but I always liked the kid. She dint cry at the sight of me which was a rarity. Seeing this child react like this put me in an oddly protective mood. I reached over and grabbed her hand but she remained rigid. I attempted to pull her away from the wall to a chair but no luck. It was like she was glued to the plaster. I then noticed something odd. She had two slight bulges under her bandanna and what seemed to be a....tail? A tail. A real tail wrapped around her waist in an attempt to hide it. Tail..... I couldn''t stop myself. I grabbed it. "Kaaah!" She screamed out as I pulled her long black tail out from under her tunic. She seemed to lose all strength and nearly fell over. It was a strange thing to see. A tail. Long and dark with a leaf shaped tip that squirmed around curling itself around my hand. [Neat] She slumped to her knees gasping while keeping her eyes firmly closed. I then used my other hand to touch her bandanna where the two bumps were. They felt hard. Interesting. Her tail continued to squirm around my arm the tip lightly slapping against my wrist. It tickled a bit so I stopped rubbing her head and gripped the leaf shaped tip of her tail in my hand and squeezed it softly. She gasped and her eyes shot open. Our eyes finally met and I froze. Purple eyes. They seemed to suck me in, captivate, and calm me all at once. I thought I saw swirling silvery flecks of light dancing within her pupils. She looked absolutely terrified now and her eyes began to tear up. I thought for sure she was going to cry. I released her tail and patted her on the head like I used to do with my cousin. She was doubly shocked by my action and again went rigid but looking more confused than afraid. I heard gasps from behind me. I turned to see my parents looking at us with amazed expressions on their faces. I turned back around to look at the girl and saw she was back to looking afraid. I patted her again sensing that this was all somehow my fault before walking back out of the room. [Think I did something bad there... Maybe touching a girls tail is harassment here or something.] I heard Bols and Neela whispering excitedly between themselves as I climbed the stairs to the second floor. I thought to keep my interactions with others to a minimum until I master the language. I hated this feeling of impotence that came from not understanding the words of those around me. I needed to start talking soon. That should speed up the learning process. Once I get that down Ill ask about things like horns, tails, and over-sized teeth. 3. Mutt Fell Deeds Chapter 3 Mutt So that brings us to the present. Its taken some work but after 8 months Ive managed to get a workable grasp of the local language. I should be around 2 years old but my growth has been unusually rapid. I''m already nearly four feet tall with a sturdy frame. I look closer to being eight or nine. Strange indeed. Neela has given up attempting to keep me in normal clothing. I spend my time bare chested in a loincloth and kilt type of garment. Ive said little to anyone only letting out a random word here and there as a child would to encourage my parents to speak more often. Ive had varying degrees of success with that. Neela jabbered endlessly but at such a speed that it was difficult to keep up while Bols spoke in grunts, gestures, and half sentences. It was...annoying but I eventually sorted it all out in my head. It was during dinner one evening that I finally spoke a full sentence. I turned to Bols after finishing off a chunk of black bread and asked... "Why do you have pointed ears and big teeth?" Bols and Neela were stunned. Both went completely silent. "................" "..................." They looked at each other as though attempting to decide something. I turned to Neela and asked... "Why do your eyes glow in the dark?" More silence. Finally they seemed to reach a conclusion. Bols nodded with a grunt and Neela cleared her throat. "Crom... I am of ....mixed ancestry. So is your father. So are most of the people of Murk." "Murk?" I asked. "Murk is a village in the Forshand mountains. It is a free village with no allegiances. We look after ourselves and live in secrecy." "Why?" We....are not liked in most places..." "Because we are mixed?" "Yes and no... It is less about being mixed and more about what we are mixed with. These mountains serve as a barrier between the Varilund Empire to the southeast and the nomadic tribes of the northern steppes known as the Konfal. The Empire is home the the peoples of the plains, forests, and coastal lands. Burmal, Seelate, the Mifari tribes, the Wylken, and Telfin. The Steppes are the home of the Vargus, Naltus, and Darmun. There is another mountain range north of the steppes where the Karshal have settled after breaking with the other Konfal tribes." [Well that tells me a lot about nothing] "What are....all of those?" I asked. "Ah... Well yes. I suppose just naming them doesn''t help much. The Burmal make up the majority of the Empire. They look much like you or I but...softer. They breed quickly. Take your father, shrink him down by half, and bob his ears...thats...close. [I see. Humans] "The others?" "The Seelate are a forest dwelling people. They share lands with the Telfin but where the Seelate are tall and fragile looking things with ridiculously huge ears the Telfin are short and...fragile looking things with ridiculously huge ears...? I confess I have never actually seen a Telfin before." "Seelate are... haughty. Telfin.....lazy." Bols growled [Elves and halflings? Am I in f@cking Fa#r?n!?] "When did you begin speaking so well, Crom?" Neela asked. "...........um......yeah. I just tried not to speak until I was sure about what it was I was saying. Y''know....proper like....." They both stared at me for a bit then Neela smiled and proclaimed in a proud voice "Its me he gets his smarts from it is." Bols just harrumphed and crossed his arms. ".....right...... So what are the uh.... Walken?" "Wylken. They stay near coastal areas primarily living in sea caves and the like from what I have heard. Strange creatures. They can breath under the sea. Not sure what they look like. I have not met anyone who has seen one and the stories are conflicting. I only know that they are a dying people.'''' [Seriously.... Now Ive got mermaids!?] I started mentally translating all of these new terms into ones I was more familiar with. "OK. What about those Mifari guys?" ''''The Mifari tribes are varied in appearance. Their only common trait is that they all characteristics such as the ears, tails, and sometimes claws of animals such as wolves, bears, bulls, and wild cats. We have a few of them here in Murk. It seems like the animal characteristics are not something passed from parent to child but something that develops at the onset of puberty. They are rather tight lipped about it all.'''' "Beast People!?" I shouted. Both of their eyes widened and Neela paled a bit. "Mifari!" They both corrected me at the same time. Strong reaction there. "Call them Mifari, Crom. Referring to them as beasts is an excellent way to get your throat ripped out. They were once an enslaved race within the Empire. In those days they were considered beasts on the same level as livestock. Never call them that." "Throat ripped out? For saying beast?" [Seems damned extreme to me] "Their revolt was only 12 years ago Crom. Its still a fresh wound for many of them.'''' "I understand. So what about the people up north?" "Those people will be of slightly more interest to you as we are descended from them." "Which ones" I asked ''''Your father has blood from both the Darmun and Vargus from his Father and pure Naltus on his mothers side while I am of Vargus and Karshal stock." "OK......" "Sorry dear. I forgot. The Vargus are a tough race of people with gray toned thick skin and large teeth. Many of the males grow large tusks. They mature quickly. Usually reaching full growth at around 13 years of age. They are also rather.....violent. They primarily work as mercenaries or hired muscle for the criminal syndicates based in Shatterforge.'''' [Orks maybe?] I thought. I was about to ask what Shatterforge was but was beaten to it by Bols. "It is a city. One of only two north of Murk. The other is Blackhammer. Karshal City." he said. He looked pleased with himself. For Bols that was quite a speach and more than Id ever heard him say all at once. He had a slight grin on his face as he leaned back in his protesting chair and idly scratched at the scar across his nose. "Exactly!" Neela beamed at him. The Vargus, Darmun, and to a lesser bit the Naltus share the city. You can find others like us there as well but....Life is hard without a clan in Shatterforge.'''' "OK So what about the Naltus then?'''' "Yes. The Naltus are very large people who still keep to the wilds and badlands for the most part. Strong as any ten of any other people. Odd though. Quiet and kind most of the time but once they get riled... Just try not to be around. There were a number of clans within the Naltus. Each had certain peculiarities.'''' "How big are we talking here?'''' "Half again my size." Bols replied [Holy shit. I''m part giant. Explains why I''m nearly four feet tall at less than two years I guess.] I looked at Bols and sized him up. He had to be at least seven feet tall and well over 400 pounds. [I''m gonna have hell finding a jacket that fits] This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "What did you mean peculiarities?" "Mother was of Rockbiter clan. Very strong. Leader of warriors.'''' Bols answered. "Rockbiter? Why did they call themselves that?" Bols smiled while reaching into a large dented pail near the hearth at his back. He pulled out a chunk of black granite, popped it into his mouth, and then...he started chewing. It made a sound that reminded me of tank treads on gravel during an earthquake. Bols seemed to relish the sensation and before long swallowed. "You ate it!? Why?" "Makes bones strong" He replied. "Indeed it does" Neela agreed. "And tastes good" Bols continued. "......" Apparently Neela didn''t agree there. "Can I eat rocks too?" "You already do dear. Your father bakes the dust of the stones he crushes into the bread you eat." She grimaced a bit and absently rubbed at her chest. "I am very glad you moved on to solid food." "So that''s why mine is always black. What about you Mother? Can you eat it as well?" "....Um...sort of.. Just the bread. I cant chew the very stone like your father can or you will one day be able to. Its not....bad....but....Its very hard on my teeth...and harder on my rear end." She replied with a chagrined expression on her round face. "I think I get it. So the Darmun and Karshal? What about them?" "The Karshal are a wonderful people. The finest smiths, artisans, and brewers you are likely to find. Stout they are but never underestimate them. They have great strength of arm and character." Neela proudly stated with her chest out. {Dwarves! I''m not even surprised anymore. It would have been weirder if there weren''t any at this point. Id have felt cheated] "The Darmun have looks and abilities that vary as much if not more than the Mifari. Some have horns, some tails, some wings, some four arms, some even have the lower halves of snakes. Some can control fire or blend in with the land around them. Some can climb bare walls as easily as you can walk across the street. Some can absorb the energy of others. Some can survive any poison while others can paralyze with a touch." [Of course there are beings like that. Why wouldn''t there be? Succubus? Lamia maybe... I hope there are no spider people. I will freak right out......] ".....Are there.....People with spider legs?...." "Oh no dear. They died out ages ago. Poor things" "Wha.." "The Naltus hunted them to extinction. Something of a delicacy for some of them." I looked toward Bols feeling sick. "Make a fine soup" He said while looking wistful. "Thats just...Wait. Horns? Tail? So the girl that brings the flour?" "Dina you mean? Poor girl. Her mother ran off after she was born. That particular tribe tends to be solitary by nature and sticking in one place for too long causes....problems for them. Lucky for her she didn''t inherit all of her mothers abilities. Lucky for us too. " "So she is a Darmun?" "Oh my yes. Her mother was of the Farune clan who have enviable abilities but are few in number. Low birth rates. They are bewitchers and absorbers. Her father Pakel is of the Danar who can change their very skin to blend into their surroundings. Not sure what Dina can do but at least we know she doesn''t share her mothers ...hunger...." "Hunger? What do you mean?" "The Ferune absorb ....essence... from males. Some get addicted. Most men in town have a wife and Pakel alone could not satisfy her appetites. After a few incidents she was ...encouraged to seek richer hunting grounds by the women of Murk." [Succubus.... I am officially interested in this world] Neela watched me nod my head and grin to myself for a bit before clearing her throat and continuing. "Ahem.... Crom. Ive been meaning to ask you about Dina. You looked into her eyes right?" "....Yes.." "Did you feel strange at all?" "Calmer I guess. She has very pretty eyes." Neela glanced at Bols and drew her brows together in thought. She leaned back in her chain while rubbing her chin and muttering to herself. "....mutter......couldn''t move for days........mutter.." "What was that?" "Crom dear... What color were her eyes?" "Just now you said.." "Her eyes Crom" I wanted to say purple but I didn''t know the word for it here. I thought for a bit and replied. "Like the color of the clouds near the western peaks at sunset. There were lights moving about inside." "So you remember..." "Why wouldn''t I?" "Because nobody else does." Neela stared at me for a few seconds and then nodded to herself. "Crom. Close your eyes and hold out your hand. Keep them closed until I tell you to open them." I hesitated a moment but they didn''t appear to have any ill intent toward me. I stuck my hand out across the table and closed my eyes. After a few seconds I felt something warm and smooth drop into my hands. It felt quite nice. It was maybe two pounds. Heavy for its size. I tried squeezing it. No give at all. Must be a stone or something. I could hear Neela sigh. "Open your eyes dear." I did so and was shocked to find myself gripping a glowing ball of fire. I screamed and dropped it. The ball rolled across the table leaving a black scorch mark and small flames on the wood. Bols released a growling chuckle as he scooped up the flaming little ball and tossed it back into the hearth. I stared at my hand expecting to see a charred ruin. I was unharmed. "What was that!?" "Wraithstone. Burns hot enough to melt steel. Cant be doused once aflame. Karshal use it for smelting." Bols explained. "So why isn''t my hand burned?" "Because mine is not burned" said Bols. "Your father means that the Naltus can not be harmed by flames or cold....within reason. Once your bones harden up like your fathers I wont have to worry about much in the way of injuries at least." Bols suddenly clutched my hand and rubbed at the skin a bit. Releasing my hand he grunted his approval and pulled out his belt knife. He pulled a piece of hair from his head and touched it to the blade. The hair split instantly. The knife must have been razor sharp. He then casually reached back and slashed the blade across my chest. "Wha!!?" I fell back as the force of the hit tipped me and my chair on the rear legs. I lay there on the ground stunned. My chest was burning and I couldn''t breath well. I gasped in a breath and groaned. The great shaggy head of Bols appeared above me wearing a huge smile. [The mad f%cker killed me!] "Not just bones" he said while pointing at my chest. I felt for an injury and found none. With Bols helping I sat up and looked down at my chest. A faint white line stretched from my right shoulder to just under my left nipple. Bols held up the knife for my inspection. Its blade looked rounded and dull. I smiled to myself. [I think I''m going to like this body]