The White Mole
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(( This was a collaboration between Moviemaker137 [of another server] and myself. The segments [separated by underscores] with the large titles are his posts, and the rest is mine. Be warned: this is a story full of absolute vileness, full of murder and suggestive themes! If need be, move this to the Evil Catacombs or whatnot. We start with Moviemaker's post. ))
"Succumb to the bloodlust. Hate, covet, crush, despoil and kill. Revel and exult in orgies of death and destruction. That which is living or created by life must be murdered or destroyed. The strong survive and the weak are the cattle. Propitiate the Crawler Below so it does not come for you."
Dogma of Urdlen
The cleric strode through the streets of Luskan with purpose - almost arrogance for her God, Urdlen. She smirked lightly as each person on the street, who passed her with nothing more than a subtle glance here and there. She was no threat to them - so they assumed - so they kept on walking and minding their own business. It was of no concern to the cleric though - she was merely bidding her time. Lantan was not built in a day, you know? She strode through the wet, soggy, blood and alcohol soaked alleyways.
There were the sounds of moles chittering in their small cages, as they rattled when she walked. The woman had matured since her first visit to Luskan - and certainly all that time alone had taken a toll on her mental stability. Her hazel eyes burned with the fires of her torment and hatred for the rest of those around her. Humans, thugs, vandals - all of them merely pawns in the ever growing game. They would never realize it though, because they were too worried about adhering to laws and justice, or their own self-preservation, to care about much else.
Her white-grey robes were mucked at the bottom, covered with a mixture of what-have-yous, but it did not matter. What currently mattered was a situation at the docks. She gracefully strode over, as if she was of a noble court, and watched the proceedings unfold. The foul stench of human odor clogged her nostrils as they raised their arms to bid and screamed for such and such a price. Pitiful - they were like pandering ants upon a piece of discarded meat. She found a small spot to sit and watch, gently stroking the head of one of her pets.
How she secretly wished that the stage had nooses and that this proceeding was a lynching. Ah, the screams and gurgled agony would have sent her into a blissful state, but that was not to be. Instead, it was a slave trade, where people were trading for people using goods and trinkets. She thought it all rather uncouth and pointless really. Why buy a slave when you were simply going to stab the useless excuse for a meatsack? Or burn his flesh to make a roaring bonfire? Pointless were these human customs.
She was just about to mow her way through the crowd again when the auctioneer harked up:
" Halflin'! Scrawny fella' but he's a might bit rowdy! Ain't got no sense o' manners, and quite aggressive towards 'bout everyone - so if'n I was ya' I'd wear gloves if'n ya' takin' this one off ma' hands! Who's in?"
A halfling? And a rather rabid folk at that. Her eyes and ears perked up at the possibilities. She turned back to where she was sitting and gazed upon the hin. They had given him the name, Sod, rather befitting - for a slave. She watched as the young hin snarled and ripped at his chains to be released. The glimmer in his eyes screamed out in rebellion against the population and she grinned wide at the possibilities.
Perhaps he could be of use to her - her eyes still captivated by the rage and hostility from which the hin's words lashed out. He was brash, a rebel, and clearly needed some dominant presence in his life to calm him. She closed her eyes and whispered a brief council with Urdlen - hoping he would hear her call.
**_Urdlen the Crawler,
I ask of you now give me guidance, I have before me an opportunity to see your dreams become a reality - to see the chaos unleashed upon the world. I ask of you to bless me in this endeavor, and I shall take this hin and create within him - a fighting spirit of decay, degradation, and chaos - the likes of which you have never seen before. Give me the guidance, the will, and the knowledge to control this wild one - and I shall use his very aggression to harness that what you crave to see the most: sin and chaos._**
She grinned lightly, feeling the presence of her god swarm within her. He had chosen the halfling. In fact, it was his verdict to have the cleric see him that day - and so it needed to be done. The slave Sod needed to be released into the arms of Urdlen! She grinned wide and let loose her many moles from their cages.
The men and women of the auction all jumped in fear and confusion at the random albino beasts, trying to thwart the quick little diggers as they ran along the streets. This caused much chaos and havoc, and before long she was alone except for the curious auctioneer and the ensnared halfling.
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Always. Always a slave. Always lesser. Always, always, ALWAYS!
Murderous and vengeful thoughts ran through Sod's steaming head, but the only thing that came out of his mouth were unintelligible threats, howls, and curses.
He had taught himself this public rage that he presently displayed as both a method to prevent his own purchase and as an outlet for the real rage that burned inside him. To a certain extent, it was simply him letting go. He had nothing to live for except the damnation of all others: those whom had done this to him, and he did not discriminate.
Slavery was nothing unfamiliar, nor slavers, masters, and mistresses, but as the potential buyers all scattered and the cleric approached, his resistance ceased and he gripped the bars of his cage, rattling the chains, and seethed quietly at her.
"He says he can read, 'n that he's right good with his hands. Been a slave fer quite some time, apparently. Not too young, fer a Halflin,' but he's likely only been 'n adult fer a few years at most," chimed the auctioneer.
"That's right, I can read, and I can stab you in your sleep with a dull knife! Go ahead, yeah, yeah, buy me, make me your servant, I dare you," hissed Sod at the cleric.
It almost always worked. The buyer was always scared and left. He did this, and people left him alone for a little while. It was a simple logic that Sod loved and appreciated. The worst that could happen would be a beating, or a few days without feeding. He could handle that. He could handle anything. At the moment, however, the one thing Sod could not handle was the notion of being bought by this woman, for she frightened him.
Upon further inspection, he found that she not only frightened him, but attracted him: two conflicting emotions in his doubly conflicted heart.
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The cleric looked upon the hin with her hazel gaze, her irises lighting like the flames of a torched town. She smiled a bit, appeased, and soon she heard the sound of her little furry minions retreating back to her side. It was the only thing that distracted her from the slave in front of her. He hissed and howled for only a moment more, and then he stopped seemingly stunned before her, gazing as if he were a dazed deer.
His hands no longer shook the bars, and his rage seemed to cease. The cleric smiled very lightly and nodded to the auctioneer. Sod tried to peer at what sort of transaction was occurring, but the cleric woman guarded the exact calculations and final price. The auctioneer smiled gladly as the coin was passed from hand to hand and he strode over close to the cage giving one final glance at the woman as if to ask:
Are you sure about this?
The cleric nodded and the auctioneer, reluctantly, released the cage. The iron bars clanged down upon the stone cobbles and, as if it were a cannon fire, the auctioneer took off in the opposite direction immediately. Sod looked rabid for only a mere second at the thought of a chase for the man, but his attention was suddenly drawn to the red-headed mole maiden. He cocked his head in confusion and awe at the woman, but she just grinned lightly.
He would make a wonderful templar for Urdlen - simply wonderful. Quick, witty, crafty, stealthy - all good attributes for a Urdlen follower. She was quite appeased and nodded happily. She looked him over, as an art dealer would inspect a sculpture, and nodded lightly to herself. When she felt that he was of quality she looked upon him again. This time the slave looked her in the eyes, but just barely, and she began to speak to him in the most soothing voice she possibly could muster.
"You were a loner, abandoned by the others, weren't you? I understand how that can hurt - to feel different from others. I can help you with your pain, your frustration. I can give you an outlet, so I will teach you."
It was more of a statement of faith and trust than it was a questioning concern and she motioned for him to follow her. He was stunned for a moment and didn't know what to make of such a gesture, but he slowly crawled, battered and bruised from the chains, out of the cage. The cleric was most pleased seeing her new acquisition slide from his confines.
She looked him over and decided that the first chore of hers would to be having to clean the man up. He was much too filthy and rabid for her tastes to have him around on a daily basis. So she took him, gently, by the hand and strolled with him down the lane to her place in Luskan.
When they arrived she lead him toward the kitchen, grabbed a large water basin and began filling it with warm water. She looked at him and with a caring, but assertive tone.
"Bathe. You are filthy. I will not allow you to disrupt my home's decorum."
She tossed him a few wash rags and led him into the warm water. She felt his body tense up around the warm watered hands of hers. He looked up confused at her, and took the wash cloth away. He began bathing himself, scrubbing fiercely against his skin to rip away the years of dirt and decay that had laid themselves upon his body. When the cleric was fully satisfied with his progress in the basin, she headed over to the kitchen. Sod's eyes followed her and he made an effort to stand up to follow her.
His still dripping, grimy, wet form looking awkwardly distorted in his confusion. She called in from the kitchen for him to stay, and so he plunked himself back down into the basin. The suds and water splashed along the ridges and slightly out onto the floor. The cleric returned shortly after with a lavish tray of treats and delectables that only a noble court could wish to have. She marveled at her specimen as his eyes glimmered and his mouth watered for the gifts - yes, he was hungry, good. Feed his sins and she shall feed the chaos within him.
"Eat. Devour. Consume. You are surely famished from your ordeal. Do not burden yourself with remaining unhealthy."
She ran a gentle hand along Sod's face consolingly before she saw the slave's face burrow itself into the assortment of meats, fruits, and vegetables along the platter. He was cautious, like a mouse was to cheese, but as soon as he tasted it she saw how ravenous he could be. She leaned over his body and gently washed his back as he gorged himself with the treats. She then whispered in his ear slowly as she ran her hand down the length of his back - every muscle of his tensed up from the intimate closeness of the encounter.
"My name is Lumli. I wish to know yours. Speak it, so I may give you a befitting title, my new pet…"
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As the Gnome woman examined him, so did Sod examine her. He looked equally deep into her eyes, his own bloodshot and seething, yet in a bitter, defeated sense, and then looked away, as though meeting her gaze pained him.
She bought me. Even after my efforts, she bought me.
And then, she spoke to him. He did not respond, but distressed thoughts raged in his mind.
How does she know this? How does she KNOW me?
Yet, at the same time, her speech - her offer - was appealing to him. On a base level, he understood that he needed such an outlet, and being provided one was a great boon, however terrible the circumstance of it may have been.
As Soddy bathed himself, he thought,
This is an opportunity. This is my chance. She seeks to raise me up. High enough to look down on those who belong in the dirt, those who are little more than the dirt into which I have pushed their carcasses with my foot.
Later, after gorging himself, and how needed it was, Soddy considered Lumli's request for his name, and he hesitated to give it, but after a brief moment and a swallow of sweets, he did.
"Soddy Slitherspitter."
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Lumli grinned wide with a slightly amused chuckle at his name. His parents certainly were spot on with picking his name out, or perhaps it was given to him - it mattered not, really. He certainly looked rather slithery, and his mindset was that of sheer poison. There was probably not another soul that would ever be so perfect as a candidate for a templar. She grabbed a towel from besides the basin and began drying his hair. Matted patches of blood and leaves that had tangled themselves in his mane of hair, rippled as they plopped and dissipated into the water.
He looked at her ever so confused and concerned now, with his face full of the grease, pie, and other assortments that managed to hit more than just his mouth. Lumli sighed and forcefully dunked his head down into the basin, holding it under the water for a few seconds. Sod struggled and gurgled under the water trying to push up freely, but his feeble frame was no use for Lumli's prowess. She, shortly after, let him up, gasping for air, and looked him square in the face tugging on the back of his hair with a grin.
"We are not pigs here. While I do indulge the tastebuds and embrace the idea of gluttonous behaviour, you are in front of lady, so please, show some class dear."
Sod gasped and coughed up water, and cowered back down into the bucket. He nodded in reproach and hung his head in dismay. She lifted his chin shortly after and smiled lightly handing him the towel. He finished drying himself on his own and then strode to follow Lumli's footsteps - like a puppy to a master. She headed into the main room of her home and sorted through her linens and such. Tossing shirts here and vests there, obviously looking for something.
Eventually she found what she was looking for and grinned wide as she produced a white noble's button shirt. She smiled warmly at Sod and then nodded as if approving her appraisal. Sod looked at her so curiously - his nearly emaciated frame holding limply to the towel wrapped around his waist. She thrust the shirt into his arms, demanding he hold it. She then found a pair of grey slacks and some shoes. How she had men's apparel stowed away in her closet was beyond Sod - but he graciously clambered to accept the gifts.
"You will wear these. Whites and greys are the signature colors of The White Mole, so you will grace him by dressing as such. Understand? We are going to begin your study this very evening. No sense in wasting precious moments on meaningless afternoons of debauchery when such an occasion presents itself."
Sod looked blankly at her for a moment, stunned that a woman of her calibre would even consider to take pity on him, let alone wish to be seen in public with him. She grinned wide at him and rubbed his cheek slightly sensually - perhaps unintentional, perhaps intentional - but it sent a shiver down his back and he struggled to keep his new gifts in his hand. He swiftly threw his clothes on in a shambled hurry and scuttled toward his new master with slightly panting breaths.
She looked back at the curious hin and grinned wickedly as they departed from her home. They strode down the lane taking care to use the small alleyways and any sewer passages they could muster - the only real sound echoing from their steps was the chittering and rattling of the cages as they motioned around in the darkness. Eventually they surfaced in front of a small decrepit looking inn and Lumli seemed to be gleaming with anticipation of the act to come.
"If you are ever to succeed at being anything Sod, dear, you must learn the first rule of chaos: Bloodshed. Bloodshed is one of the most formidable allies in creating chaos amongst the masses. One scattered drop can send a group into a frenzied rally wondering where it came from. This evening, this inn shall be our target. Go in and see what sort of chaos you can stir up, but do be careful - I would very much hate to see you broken like a mere toy. You are not a toy are you Sod? Be my warrior and go forth."
She grinned lightly and waited in the darkness as she appraised her new pet's prowess and understanding of Urdlen.
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It was not the kind of study that Sod expected, but he was happy to comply with Lumli's wishes. For further study and education, Sod resolved to hear and learn, but selectively accept concepts as true or not true. Lumli's advice for the night, however, was taken to heart and was to be his inspiration for the night.
He entered the inn, looking fairly well-to-do and refreshed, at least, in comparison to his normal self. Immediately he began observing the patrons. There were humans, half-orcs, halflings, and all sorts - and they, being in Luskan, tended to be suspicious, quick-to-anger, and all things: the perfect traits for victims of deception and misleading.
Several groups had their places at tables and the bar, and there was a staircase down to a communal bath, as well as a staircase up to rooms. One group appeared to be that of bandits, crowded, without uniform, at one wall. They had weapons with them, though some rested on the wall itself, including a strung crossbow and bolts, spears, swords, and other things.
There was another group of Elven women whom several assorted, armed males were attempting to flirt with. Sod decided to go there first. He, being an unimportant and lowly Halfling, figured that nobody would care if such a Halfling were to loiter with the many other people in the inn.
He approached the flirting group unnoticed, and intentionally so, and neared an Elven woman, who was herself near a shorter human male. The male was looking over her shoulder, and she was looking ahead, paying no mind to her rear, so Sod approached at a steady pace and groped her thoroughly before continuing on and meshing with the crowd of males.
"Hands off, cur!" exclaimed the Elven woman, slapping the man who was looking over her shoulder on the arm. He roared back at her, "How dare you strike me, wench! I'll have you know, I am the son of a prominent noble in Corymr!"
"As if that matters in Luskan, you daisy," chimed in another woman. The apparent son-of-a-noble was visibly furious at this, and howled insults at her. This, in turn, angered the group of bandits, who were rather quiet for bandits. One of their men shouted at the noble flirter, "Shut up you sod! Nobody 'as no respect fer yer rotten kind!"
Seething, the noble flirter gripped the sword at his waist. The group was bustling with hostility, and the bandits were being roused as well. Sod slunk over to the crossbow, and, when he had a chance in which nobody was paying attention, he stole it and a bolt. The crossbow's owner must not have been immediately beside it, for the Halfling was able to wade into the bandit group after loading a bolt, take aim with the crossbow from his hip, and fire at the noble, striking him.
For a moment, nobody noticed, for the bolt had flown silently, but as blood splattered the Elven woman and the noble exhaled in pain, the flirters realized what happened. There was a scream, and then two, and then the entirety of the males roared in excitement and shock, but Sod had already abandoned the crossbow and escaped.
Blood had been shed.
"'O shot 'im?" cried one of the bandits, and another raced to where the crossbow had been left on the wall to find it gone.
"Crossbow! My crossbow!" yelled the weapon's owner. One of the bandits bent over and picked it up, waving for the owner to see. In a rage, he stormed over and retrieved it, grabbing the one who picked it up by the collar and choking him.
The heat was on. Sod thought that it was risky, but he might be able to exploit the opportunity.
Before another bandit could explain that the man hadn't fired the weapon, Sod slipped in, barely noticed amongst the pushing and shoving, yelling and calls in the group of bandits, pulled a dagger from one bandit's belt, and stabbed the crossbow owner in the leg with it, moving away immediately as to avoid capture and leaving the dagger where he put it.
"ROTTER! 'O stabbed me?!" screamed the bandit, who, in his distraction, had yet to release the other man while he pulled the dagger out of his leg. Another bandit looked down and saw the empty dagger sheath, and consequently reprimanded the dagger's owner, readying his own weapon in doing so.
It was chaos. Sod could not stay among the bandit group any longer. At this point, he simply watched. The noble had been floored, and was now writhing in agony, crying like a child for his mother as some of his comrades tended to him. The rest of his comrades, however, stormed over to the bandits, arms in the air and voices boisterous and hostile. The bandits were equally hostile in their responses.
The bandits had, since the stabbing, brandished their weapons, and this aroused a great deal of suspicion amongst the flirters. They, too, brandished their weapons, high from their encounter with females and the shooting of their comrade. The bandits outnumbered them a fair bit, but with their judgement impaired and their thoughts fluttering like butterflies, they would not be discouraged.
One flirter lashed out with a short sword, stabbing a bandit. That was the shot from around the world, and the two groups went at eachother's throats instantly. The inn became a mess of fighting men, disgusted women, and disgruntled patrons, though some found joy in it, as though it were an entertaining show.
Sod felt the same way. The results were empowering. He had made this happen. He pushed so many people over the edge, and he had yet to be caught. He wanted to push further, but there was no more to be done there. The heat was too high, his potential for impact too little. So, he left, slowly, as to savor the experience. In fact, he enjoyed it so thoroughly that he found himself waiting at the door until the conflict had been resolved, but it was not in his best interests. Survival first.
So, he left the inn and stood immediately beside the entrance. It would have been best if they left before anybody realized that it had been him, he thought. If the bandits prevailed, and any of those who were directly involved at the beginning of the conflict survived, there was a strong chance that, after some explanation, they would suspect and blame him, which was a worrying prospect.
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She watched as her diminutive slave strolled into the tavern with an cautious stalk. She moved herself into the alley along the tavern and positioned herself to peek within the window for appraisal. There stood Sod, in the middle of the tavern scouting out his targets inconspicuously, and his eyes glimmered with the thoughts of the task. Lumli marveled as she watched the hin slink his way amongst the drunk, rambunctious peasants who were too preoccupied with their debauchery than to notice such a small, insignificant hin. He did just as she had commanded, and with such prowess!
The stealing of the crossbow sent shivers down her neck and arms in the sick anticipation of it's use. She pressed her ear gently up against the glass to hear the fools and fatalities. Bloodshed is what she asked for, and bloodshed is what she was delivered. She heard the bolt click from the release, the sickening thud that the metal resounded as it compacted into the flirt's chest. It was unlike anything she had ever personally experienced. She had killed and tortured countless individuals in her travels, but never before had she felt so invigorated by watching chaos from the other side.
The blood that spurted across the tavern, like a water pale pouring out onto flowers. The tavern goers that screamed and raged with anger at each other, and the writhing screams of the dying. It was blissful, sinfully blissful. She shuddered under the wake of the dark deed with a pleased wide grin along her face. Her slave had done well, exceptionally so, and for that she would make sure that Urdlen granted him a reward of some kind.
Sod had taken to sneaking out of the front door before the bar hostilities raged beyond his control, but the grin of accomplishment and sickening satisfaction that glimmered upon his face. The slight sparkle of a few stray blood drops was more than enough. She chuckled quietly watching her wicked warrior before her. She hopped off her crates, and gripped the hin's face with a relaxed, pleasurable grip before speaking softly within his ear.
_"My, my - never in all my years of serving have I ever seen such, adaptiveness and cruelty, especially on your first opportunity. It was, to put it lightly, most pleasing to watch. I thank you for such entertainment Sod."
"I-I had much more enjoyment with that than I-I p-probably should have, b-but thank you for the p-raise Mistress."_
She chuckled lightly. Exactly the answer she hoped he would say, it was electric the way her senses lit up as he spoke of such excitement. Urdlen was most obviously pleased with the display she thought, certainly he could not deny the slave's prowess and worth. Lumli brushed his hair with her hands and smiled lightly before continuing on their way back home. When they arrived at home Sod was ordered to bathe again, remove any evidence of the blood from his person.
Lumli set forth in devising a plan for the next night's outing, grinning all the while and musing over her slave's prowess. The chills she felt as she thought of his destruction were simply ravishing, but she would not speak of such to her lesser. Urdlen and her alone would know of that - and before long she sent Sod his supper as a reward, then sent him to bed to rest up for the following evening. He would need his rest for what was coming, and she grinned lightly at the thought.
The following evening Sod woke up to Lumli standing at the front of his make-shift bedframe. He blinked his eyes curiously and scrambled up to his feet finally recognizing her presence. He didn't understand it, but whenever she was around he strove to please her in any way. If she had been waiting for him to wake, or he had caused her to get mad at him for something he didn't realize, he would have been, oddly devastated. Perhaps it was her dominant, commanding presence that made her so calming to him - or her lavish gifts, but whatever it was he couldn't place it.
She smiled warmly at him and commanded he get dressed as soon as possible, as nicely as he possibly could. Sod had almost no concept of civility at the time, so he tried his best to meet his Mistress's expectations. He slipped on his white dress shirt, grey slacks, and dress shoes. He took a comb from the dresser, with his feeble hand, and brushed the tangles of his mane with clumsy tremors of nervousness. When he was done he strode out into the main hall and showed himself to the Mistress, to which his appearance was met with an impish grin.
_"Very good my pet. Very good. Now - tonight I have a unique little task for you that deals with two of my favorite chaos starters - Lust and Envy."
"W-wha-… W-Where are we heading Mistress?"
"A park actually. It seems to be a favorite gathering point for traveling um, 'uncouth' couples that wish for their whereabouts to not be known by others apparently. Luskan brings out the freaks darling. You'll be doing the following, and I hope you can prove such prowess in this. You are to go the park, and once there you are to flirt with the females there, even if they are betrothed, dating, or otherwise.'
"Urdlen will watch over you my Sod. He will give you the attraction you need to distract the female's attention. Evoke her lustful need for you, and this will trigger the envy of their male companions. The rage, lust, and anger of the moment should be quite... an explosion of chaos, if I do say so myself."_
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Without many pleasantries, Sod left his mistress' immediate presence. He did not go to the park, yet, however, instead going to find a shop or stand that carried herbs. He found such a stand and searched for two herbs which he did not know by name, but by appearance; one was black and purple, and the other was green with a distinct shape. They were there, as he had expected of Luskan, but they were of no use to him yet. First, he needed gloves, which were far more common than the herbs.
A nearby stand carried gloves, among many other things, and as the shopkeeper was busy with a customer, the Halfling simply took a pair and slipped them on, returning briskly to the herb stand. With his gloves on, he searched for a sizable pebble. After finding one, he positioned himself so that he might throw the pebble and divert the bored herbalist's attention.
One aggressive toss later, the shopkeeper was looking the other way, and Sod was able to lift a small amount of both of the herbs. He gripped the herbs in his right glove and headed for the park. Upon his arrival, he found a typically pleasant park filled with people in the dead of night: naturally suspicious. Sod half-expected some of the flirters from the last night to be there, but they were all likely dead or otherwise incapacitated.
A fair number of people were there, including two young Hin women on a bench giggling and pointing people out - single, Sod concluded, a small gathering of people beneath a tree, men and women alike, and a trio of mature humans, one, whose arm was being held by the one cackling woman in the trio, armed with a dagger at his hip.
Sod ground the two herbs in his gloved hand at such a pace that he could feel the heat from the friction. He resolved that approaching a single woman would be fruitless, if his goal was to cause trouble - though, a pair might yield results. He had devised a plan, however, and his first stop was the trio.
The Halfling was no genius in terms of social skills, and he was far more likely to plan a mass murder than a heartbreak, but he would try. As he approached the trio, they looked at him, slightly confused as to why he was in their presence.
"What do you want, runt? said the armed man.
"Oh, be soft on 'im Ludi-cakes; 'e's a cutie," giggled the woman, who slapped the man's arm gently. Standing at barely over half their height, it would be a difficult feat to appear threatening to the mens' egos. Then again, egos were fragile. Very, very fragile.
"Nothing, nothing at all. I just thought that I would shake the hand of the most impressive-looking man in the park - no, in all of Luskan, I would say," praised Soddy. He praised convincingly; the man grinned widely and, as Sod, who had ground the herbs thoroughly, extended his hand, the man, Ludi, apparently, shook it.
Now was the time.
Before Ludi rose to his normal height, Sod sniffled and sneezed in the man's face. Ludi rubbed his eyes immediately, clearly unhappy about the matter, although the woman laughed hysterically, and even their male friend had to restrain himself from revealing his joy.
"You insolent feck!" shouted Ludi.
"Ah, so, so sorry, Mister Ludi. A genuine mistake. Then again," Soddy not only looked to, but wrapped his arm around the leg of the laughing woman, who continued to do so without inhibition, "I suppose that your lady appreciates good humour, which you seem to have none of, considering your reaction." Ludi was thoroughly red with anger, now, but his woman was red with giddiness and mild infatuation. She knelt to Soddy's level, the act of which slightly saddened him in private, and planted a kiss on his cheek, drunk with laughter, and perhaps a little bit of Urdlen's assistance.
"Oh, I should take y'ome, y'little cutie! Can we, can we, Ludi-cakes?" she squealed, feigning immaturity at Ludi's expense.
"I would be most pleased, good lady. Imagine laughing as you are now, here in this park, in the bedroom with yours truly!" Sod offered boldly.
"Oh, that sounds like a plan," she replied. Whether she was kidding or not, Ludi did not appreciate it, and he drew his dagger, though slowly and somewhat uncertainly. Before he could even thrust it, however, he fell forward, onto his face, Soddy stepping back to allow the man room to collapse.
Excellent. The poison took its effect promptly.
The dagger fell from Ludi's hands, skidding a short distance away. The male and Ludi's woman, though not totally sobered from their jubilant state, looked worriedly to Ludi and bent over to assist him.
"Whoah there, Ludi. Did you even have anything to drink tonight?" inquired the male. Sod had to move quickly. He strolled over to the dagger and picked it up, keeping his eye on the trio. Then, concealing it, he moved to the gathering beneath the tree.
Sod stood around the gathering, appearing as another merely curious observer, though the dagger beneath his shirt was unknown to the others. After a moment, Ludi, though not fully recovered, stood and dashed, or stumbled, in the gathering's direction, having seen Soddy walk nonchalantly over there.
Ludi's head was low, and he was bound to take another tumble soon, but he managed to run to the gathering without falling, though it was no great distance. Unfortunately for him, Soddy was ready. The Halfling pulled the dagger out and, instead of stabbing Ludi, took his hand mid-dash, placed the dagger in it, albeit only for the most brief of moments, and drove it into a man's thigh.
Ludi crashed into the group, blood splattering about. Soddy feigned suprise and fell back, like a few others, briefly considering whether he should abandon his now-bloodied gloves, though he resolved that some blood on dark gloves in the dark of night would not be overly noticeable.
The men that had not fallen down in the gathering looked just as suprised, especially after seeing one of their associates stabbed by what appeared to be a crazed man that charged them drunkenly and planted a dagger into someone's thigh. Ludi's poisoning had not quite worn off, so he was, to the others, a stumbling fool. They decided to punish him duly.
As the men, and some of the women, groped at Ludi for control of the lynching, he began to regain his normal consciousness, but now, his mind was set on resisting the mob. The general direction of his fate, whatever it may become, was sealed, so Soddy did not pursue him any further. There was only one more step.
Let us hope they find me attractive.
The Halfling moved around the gathering, who was now pinning Ludi to the tree and howling suggestions as to where to cut him, and dropped his gloves, uttering a little prayer, however out-on-a-limb it might have been, to Urdlen for a bit of luck in Hin taste. He personally detested Hin. All the better.
"What a terrible thing!" Soddy approached the two Hin women from behind, hopping up onto the back of the bench, standing on the grooves that the seperation of the planks formed. The two, one slightly muscular and red-headed, the other sporting brown pigtails, craned their necks and looked at him. Soddy did not look bad in his outfit, but more importantly, the Hin women were single and looking, the latter of which was not certainly beknownst to him, but such was his suspicion.
"I go up to meet a great rolemodel, and that happens. I hate it when people resort to violence, don't you?"
It was a risky move, considering he was in Luskan. The Halfling women didn't even have a particularly pacifistic, naive attitude about them.
It turned out to have failed.
"And what's wrong with violence?" asked one. Soddy was not in total shock, but it was a detriment to his plan. He would improvise.
"It's not very sporty. I like subtlety. I'm sure you're a subtle type. I can see it in your gorgeous eyes."
Oh, the irony.
The inquiring Halfling puckered her lips and raised her brow, nodding as though she had been hit with incredibly true information. The other grinned broadly, fingering her brown pigtails.
"So, how old are you two ladies?" Soddy inquired confidently.
"Thirty," answered the pigtailed Halfling.
"Twenty-nine," answered the other, after a brief pause. They looked at eachother knowingly, almost in a silent declaration of something.
"I mean, twenty-eight," piped the pigtailed one.
"Twenty-seven."
"Twenty-six and a few fortnights, actually."
"Today is my birthday. I'm turning twenty-six, as a matter of fact," the other Halfling stated cooly. Intent on stopping this cascade of obvious lies, Soddy decided on the spot to pick her.
"Your birthday, is it? Well, should I treat you to a present on this very special night?"
Immediately, the pigtailed Halfling hissed, "She's a lying bitch! Today isn't her birthday!"
"A lying bitch, am I? Should I tell him about that nasty problem you have down there, deceitful whore?" threatened the other one. The pigtailed Halfling began to get up from her seat, but the muscular Halfling swung her arm around and clobbered her companion in the throat. The pigtailed Halfling gurgled and hit her head on the bench, then fell forward, unconscious.
Subtle.
"So, how about that birthday present, hmm?" purred the victor sensually as she turned around, but she was met with nothingness, for Soddy had fled the scene in a hurry. After he had gotten out of sight, he walked back to Lumli's place, buzzing with victory. This was the most fun he'd had in years.
__
Sod returned to the home when Lumli was preparing for bed. His grin along his face, evidence of a job well done, and he seemed far more excited than he had been beforehand. Small traces of blood lined the white linen shirt and Lumli grinned. Her little soldier had been quite the troublemaker this evening. She strode over to him, wrapped in her white silken nightgown, and ran her finger along his bloodied cheek. She swept a dollop of blood off of his cheek grinning ecstatically. Her eyes gleamed at his enjoyment and it only made her savor his account of the event more.
Bloodshed amongst the masses, insinuations of lust by those undeserving of him. He may have been a slave, but as he discussed the account she could only hear how much importance he could possibly have in the future. Sod was… odd, for lack of a better term, but he seemed to be exactly what Urdlen wanted and so Lumli was quite satisfied by her new slave's growth up to that point. She took him by his shirt collar and held her lips close to his face as she talked to him. Sod's pulse raced paranoid, curious as to what her intentions were.
"You have - how shall I put it? Exceeded my expectations thus far. I shall do you the service of granting you a nicer room as a reward."
Her seductive stare into his eyes, and her soft tone was enough to make Sod numb throughout, without any reason as to why he felt this way about her. He rocked back on his heels nervously, and then suddenly she kissed his cheek in thanks. His body clenched up. He did not remember the last time anyone had shown him any sort of affection. She grinned at his tense demeanor. There was something enticing about breaking that virginity of affection - breaking his concepts of what life should be about. She decided not to think on it though, as she led Sod to his new room and better settings. He looked around his new room. The slightly more elegant backdrop was a tad astonishing to his eyes.
He almost felt guilty for stealing such a treasure from his Mistress, but she gave it to him as a gift, so how could he refuse? He looked back at her and smiled lightly in thanks. She nodded and headed back toward her room, contemplating the next step of his development. She certainly realized he understood the ability of bloodshed. He had been quite adept at that in the first outing. His ability to lie and cheat others was another proud characteristic. What might she be able to do with his prowess - made her sort of shiver in the anticipation as she made her way toward her lab. She opened the door and slipped herself inside, working overnight on her slave's next prospected task.
"E-Evening Mistress."
Sod bowed to her as he brought her breakfast into her. She grinned at the irony of the delivery of food this evening and chuckled a bit. She thanked him for the gesture and commanded he sit in bed with her as she ate, for she wished to discuss his next task for the evening. She smelled the air around her - a combination of nervous sweat, maple syrup, butter, sausage grease, all seemingly emanating from Sod and her plate. The rush to her senses was only slightly lesser than that of when she smelled blood or carnage of any kind.
She grinned pleased at Sod and ran her fingers along his chin. Sod had clearly had a better evening and she could see it in his eyes. They were still dreadfully bloodshot, but he seemed to be eager to please at any task she would ask of him this evening. He wasn't reluctantly intrigued as he was before, but rather at her very hand and foot. Perhaps her tasks were becoming to his liking - this most certainly was a blessing from Urdlen. She smiled softly at Sod and began to explain her plan as she ate.
"Sod - do you see as I eat? You remember how you first ate within the confines of my home? Ravenous, needy, and craving sustenance? Well tonight we shall seek to do the same, but in the most chaotic means possible. There is a local restaurant, The Leaky Spoon, within the center of Luskan. We shall head there this evening. I was contemplating the possibility of a poison root within the food to cause sickness and pain.'
"However, no lesson will come of that, so that would not do. It does not teach you the value of Gluttony. The sinful endulgence of food, and the chaos it can cause upon the masses bodies. I shall go with you and order a meal as any other patron. It will be your task to cause them to indulge in gluttonous behaviour. Make them worship the food - like starving pigs. I will be appraising your efforts for Urdlen."
"You wish to go to s-some hovel, and watch - the masses gorge themselves? I-I I do not - understand Mistress, forgive m-me for my rudeness - b-but it is c-confusing."
"It is only confusing, because you have never truly experienced the sight before Sod. You shall be able to do so, just use your head and Urdlen will bless your endeavours. The pigs will root like the filth they are this evening. Now get dressed. We leave soon."
__
The two made their way to The Leaky Spoon. Sod found the prospect of this challenge daunting. He knew only how to be starving and gluttonous himself. He knew how gluttonous people were, but he did not know how to make somebody gluttonous. For that, he had to look to himself.
Bring company.
That was it. He could use gluttony to wreak havoc in a fairly predictable manner. There were other methods, but they would have been less subtle and felt forced.
So, instead of going straight to the restaraunt, they took a detour, Sod insisting to his mistress that he had a plan. Beggars were not at all uncommon in Luskan, and the starving and poor would readily go with someone for food. He found a group squatting at the mouth of an alley. Soddy considered leading an army to The Leaky Spoon, but he doubted himself, and settled for less.
"Hail, good men. Come with us, and we shall show you a place to eat, a place where you will eat and be full to bursting!" rallied Sod.
"And why should we?" inquired a beggar. The beggar was met with Soddy's laughter.
"Why? Do you have anything better to do? You are being offered an opportunity to eat. If you do not have the capacity to take it, you deserve to starve."
There was a long pause, and then one beggar stood and hobbled toward the Halfling and Gnome pair. The rest followed, and they all went to The Leaky Spoon. Before entering, Soddy instructed all of the beggars to sit near him. They did so, sitting in a booth against the wall, and when the proprietor questioned their ability to pay, Sod, looking to be a well-to-do Halfling with a well-to-do Gnome lady, assured the man that they were with him. Then, Soddy advised his mistress not to eat her meal.
Lumli ordered her meal, though it was certainly no extravagant steak, and when it came, Sod gasped, "How scrumptious that looks! I can taste it already - how my mouth waters. Do you all not agree?"
They audibly, but wordlessly agreed, staring hungrily at it. A better restaraunt would have been more conducive to his plan, but starving beggars drooled over even slop. Then, he stood on his seat and looked around, pointing at various dishes.
"And that! I am starving for that!" he remarked on one lady's plate. As she forked her food into her mouth, the beggars watched, mouths agape. He closed the distance between himself and one beggar, isolating him, and then whispered in his ear.
"You want it, don't you? You've gone so long without having a good meal, and here we are, surrounded by good meals. Go ahead. Ask for her meal. If she doesn't give it to you, take it. You are at rock bottom. What have you to lose?"
The beggar looked straight ahead as Sod whispered to him, gulping and fixated on the woman and her food. He must have been considering Soddy's proposal, because he said nothing. Then, he walked up to the woman's booth, ever so slowly, hobbling hungrily across the restaraunt.
One by one, Soddy repeated the process with the other beggars, until they all had approached another party. The starving men had begun their negotiations. This, of course, attracted a fair bit of attention, so, while the patrons' attentions were diverted, Soddy made his way to a now empty table which still had a full bowl of bread slop, whose eater was up and mingling with another patron. He took the bowl and brought it to his own table.
"Pardon me, Mistress," Sod cackled, now in his element and less reserved, even toward his feared mistress. He took her dish and poured the bread slop into it, creating an absolutely terrible mixture. Then, he took the mixture and walked toward the middle of The Leaky Spoon.
There, he waited. One beggar let out a whining howl, or perhaps a sob, accompanied by the laughter of the two patrons he was negotiating with.
Here it comes.
The beggar slammed his hands into the table and swept the table, tears in his eyes. The patrons' drinks spilled onto them, and the beggar dove at one dish, clawing at it and shoveling what he could into his mouth. One of the patrons at the table shouted angrily, wiping at her blouse, while the other stared at the beggar in shock and disgust, recoiling.
"Eat! Everybody, eat!"
With their comrade gorging himself and Soddy encouraging them, the rest of the desolate men followed suit. When fewer people were paying him mind, Soddy placed the wretched plate at his feet and returned to his table and mistress.
By now, the beggars were in a frenzy of hunger, eating uncontrollably. The proprietor howled at them, already attempting to pull them off, but there were far more of them than he, however weak they may have been. Every patron whose food was being violated by a beggar was thoroughly displeased, and a great number of the patrons who sat near them were so, but there was the occasional eater who laughed and enjoyed the display.
Returning to this restaraunt was certain to be impossible if the owner had a memory longer than that of a goldfish. It was worth it, however, thought Soddy. Such was the nature of sewing chaos; it was in direct opposition to security.
"We should go soon, Mistress," Sod told Lumli. As they stood, one beggar, having finished every messy scrap of his liberated meal, turned and saw the plate on the floor. One of his comrades was in the same boat, and they glanced at eachother briefly before racing for it.
The two Rightsized folk took their leave as the pair of beggars wrestled over the plate, thrashing clumsily around on the floor until one was distracted by pain, enough so that the temporary victor could gorge himself on the spoils.
__
Lumli watched as her protege skillfully made the entire hovel disintegrate into mass chaos of slop, filth, and degredation. Her body cooed with the sinful nature of it all - and it took every ounce of her willpower not to gleam at the chaos around her. She gripped the edges of the table, holding her head slightly down toward her less than desirable meal, peeking out of the corners of her hair to watch the carnage before her. It was so blissful watching the people gorge themselves on slop, that she almost didn't want to leave the place.
Sod, however, was the gentleman and kept his Mistress' eyes from having to view the scene any longer. He gently pushed them out of the door and let them head on their way back home. Lumli scampered away giddy with the lush feeling of chaos soaring within her. Sod chuckled lightly watching his Mistress succumb to the joy of chaos, and even he too had to somewhat enjoy that victory. It was sweet to watch those lower than him, what he used to be, the wretches of the world, cower before him and beg. He was quite beginning to like the Mistress' teachings.
When they returned home, Lumli, still in her ecstatic mood, began cooking the two dinner. Sod strode over and insisted that he do the cooking, but Lumli insisted herself that her little mayhem maker sit and rest. It was very odd, their relationship; for if someone were to walk into the house at that moment you would think them a couple. However, the two of them knew each others place. There was this overbearing sensual tension between the two most evenings. Sod admiring his Mistress often at the dinner table in most unfathomably sinful manners that would make the most stern virgin cry out in tears of shame and disgust.
Lumli was no better, however, for she was filled with the keen admiration and desire for her pupil. His prowess at every occasion seemed to only heighten his appeal in her eyes. His scrawny figure, looked on as weak and feeble by most, was the epitome of perfection in hers. He may have been a slave, but he was -her- slave damn it, and as such she could demand of him anything she desired. Even him if the occasion were to ever call for it. She chose, however, to block these feelings for him - at least for the time. He was still her pupil, and there was still much to learn.
"I hope you have enjoyed Luskan.", she stated as they ate.
_"I-I have Mis-tress. T-thank you for t-teaching me.""Well don't get too attached my pet. We are moving in the afternoon tomorrow."
"M-Moving? - but I thought Lusk-"
"Luskan is becoming droll for me dear. The chaos is too predictable, and people are bound to recognize our faces sooner or later."
"Oh. I - I didn't think about that."_
She strode over to his side of the table, after she finished her plate, and kissed Sod on the top of his head in thanks for a job well done. His cheeks flustered with admiration for the woman, with this still unwavering urge to draw her lips to his. This uncontrollable attraction he had to her - he couldn't place it, but as the days kept on so did this bond strengthen. He followed her, enamored with her every movement, cleaning up the kitchen of their mess. As they walked, Lumli began to tell Sod of her devious plot for Amn. There was a tournament to be held in a week from now. It would take them about that long to reach their destination.
It was a jousting tournament, full of knights and kings, and dukes - very high class citizenship. High class folk made for high egos and higher expectations. It also made for deeper pockets and stronger bets. The deep seeded underbelly of a big city, versus a hovel like Luskan, why the chaos that could ensue in a city of that magnitude! Lumli indulged herself on the image of such chaos, feeling the every rapturous glory that coursed through her veins just thinking of the possibilities. Some women liked flowers, some women liked candy, but give Lumli a burning building full of trapped people, or an arena full of fighting and enraged fans, and that was sheer bliss.
She made preparations for the mornings travels, and sent Sod off to bed with their traveling gear. In the morning she would toss the oil lamps upon the ground and torch the place. Luskan would be a mere memory for the pair in their quest for chaos infecting the world. Urdlen would be most pleased, she thought as she headed to her chambers - still high from the chaotic mess and craving the lustful essence of chaos again in her sleep.
__****
-
The two found a boat and hitched a ride, setting sail for Athkatla. Upon their arrival, they learned that the tourney was not within the walls, but rather east, halfway to Crimmor. This could have been inferred without asking a single soul, however, as mounted men and carriages poured out of the main gates at a fair rate. Lumli and Soddy followed the steady train.
As they came upon the site, which was a large stadium with palisades and a tent city, although judging by the number of people attending, the length of the tourney, and the amount of tents, which seemed too small, people were probably commuting daily to the event.
Soddy observed the population, and though there were certainly extravagantly rich men and women present, he doubted that there were kings. He wasn't going to tell his mistress this, however. That would not end well.
They found a small tent for rent. Soddy negotiated the rent on credit; he promised a portion of his bet winnings to the owner. Of course, Soddy didn't intend to keep this promise. He unloaded what there was to unload and left on his own to gather information. This heist was, for a single event, a long-haul, so he had to prepare. With that, he took a knife and departed.
Alright. Gold.
The Halfling strolled through the tent city and crowds, looking for the rare, yet existent people who were stupid enough to leave their coinpurses hanging on their belts. He had no luck, however, so he simply kept an eye out for such people on his way to the arena, which was defined by tall, wooden palisades, inside of which were equally tall terraces of seating, and the center, the arena proper.
There were four men, appearing as two pairs, equiped heavily with harnesses and helmets standing at the foot of the palisade. They appeared to be arguing, particularly the smallest man from one pair, and the largest from the other.
"There is no chance for you, Orc. My lance will knock you to the ground if your horse does not topple under your grotesque form," chided the small man. The large one stated coldly,
"I'm a half-orc, cur, and you don't even have enough weight in that tiny frame of yours to knock over a girl," replied the alledged half-orc.
"I do too have the weight!" whined the smaller one childishly, and, as if to prove himself, he hobbled clumsily in his armour over to an unsuspecting woman, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her down to the ground. Laughter came from within the half-orc's shell of armour, complimented by the frustrated growls of the violent jouster.
Petty fools.
Then, something dawned upon Soddy. It was, he thought, something that was probably already suggested, but it was worth a try. The Halfling approached the group closer.
"If you are so confident, sirs, then perhaps you should wager against eachother," Soddy suggested to the four. Then, he continued, speaking to the half-orc, "You will probably lose."
The smaller man looked up from whatever it was that he was concerned about and laughed a metallic, echoed laugh, "He is right, Orc! I'm afraid I won't be making any money off of you, since you will surely not bet in your own favour; you know you are weak!"
"Weak, am I? You're on, then. Five hundred gold to my victory!"
"Would you not bet more? You are clearly not confident enough to bet any significant sum."
Pride.
"More? Fine. One thousand," responded the half-orc.
"You are bargaining with yourself before you bargain with me. Is that how little you trust in your abilities?"
If the half-orc reacted, his helmet concealed it, but his hissing breath was audible. The other three men stood in perfect silence and stillness, awaiting his response.
"Five thousand gold and three of my most prized and priceless swords," he finally answered, as though he were whispering his last words to someone that he was about to murder. The small one jumped, or tried to, and fell, but clambered up and drudged over to them once more.
"Hah! Good. I wager one of my smaller estates and my betrothed's hand that I will win," he offered cockily. His companion gave an audible gasp, but said nothing.
"Very well. I will give my life eternally to whoever wins, but should neither of you win this tourney, I take the spoils of the wager."
Even though his life was technically not his to give.
"It would be hard to enforce this wager if we did not have any names."
"Shinjuro," said the half-orc.
"Ludwin Ulfamalor the Fourth: don't you dare speak it unless it is in praise," chided the smaller man.
"Soddy Slitherspitter. It is agreed, then. We will meet here when it is done."
All parties shook hands. If Ludwin won, he would take Shinjuro's five thousand gold, his swords, and Soddy's life. Should Shinjuro have won, he would take Ludwin's betrothed, his estate, and Soddy. Soddy did not care overly much for the actual winnings. He simply wished to see their pride get the better of them. He knew that they wouldn't win.
Soddy took his leave. He made his way inside the palisade and watched the practice jousts for a short while. He listened to the chatter about the jousters: who would win, who would lose, who would accidentally die. There was much talk about the half-orc, "Shin," who alledgedly hailed from Kara-Tur. Soddy did not know the truth, so he decided to play into the rumours.
There was also talk about Ludwin Ulfamalor the Fourth, which could have been summed up as begrudgingly respectful of the man's training and family, despite his horrible attitude, which was clearly public.
Of course, people spoke of the other jousters, and Soddy listened to this chatter specifically. He needed a nobody that nobody would bet on nor suspect to win. He didn't intend to bet on him, of course, simply for him to emerge victorious.
So, he watched them and picked a man, Raleigh Chanley, whose name he had not heard at all before. The man had won a joust, though not easily. To an average better, this would be poor material, but Soddy saw an opportunity. Raleigh's equipment was excellent and his aim superb, but his horse was inferior and weak.
After practice had ended, Soddy followed Raleigh to the jousters' quarters and approached him with an offer.
"Hello, Sir Raleigh Chanley. Do you have a moment?"
"I do. What is it?"
"I have an offer for you. It will ensure your victory in this tourney."
Raleigh froze and stared at Soddy for a time before asking, "Why do you want me to win?"
"Betting. Five thousand gold, priceless swords, an estate, and a woman's hand in marriage are all mine if I win. You may have one of the four things wagered if you comply with my offer."
"Three. The woman, if she is fair, the estate, and the swords," countered Raleigh immediately, much to Soddy's hidden displeasure and irritation.
"That much? Then you had better not stray from my plan in the slightest," the Halfling groaned. Raleigh agreed, and Soddy informed him of a medicine that he would make to strengthen the horse, giving him more stability to aim and more force with which to tilt the opponent. However, Soddy would not use this medicine for every joust. The rest of Soddy's plan, he told Raleigh, was a secret for Raleigh's sake.
"Very well, Halfling. Find me here or the stables when you have need of me," Raleigh said before retiring. Now that he was in the jouster's quarters, Soddy looked around for Shinjuro and Ludwin's rooms. He did, peeking slightly and making a note of their locations. Then, he began his return to the tent.
On his way, he finally found a hit for gold, a drunken man in fine clothing and a feathered hat. Soddy followed the lone man, eyeing his fat coinpurse and preparing his knife. When the man was in a makeshift tent alley, Soddy snuck up behind him and cut the purse from his waist silently, then backed away, disappeared behind a tent, transferred the coin into his own coinpurse, and then tossed the empty sack into an empty tent. With that, he walked away with his noble's allowance, grinning as the drunken man howled in the distance behind him.
It was day two. Soddy had not slept much, but he never did, so it was no suprise. He dug through his limited luggage and retrieved a few purple and black leaves with gloved hands. Then he poured water into a bowl and dropped the leaves in it. It was gradual, but the water was beginning to take a darker, purple color, though at the rate it was going, it wouldn't be finished until much later. In a seperate bowl of water, now with bare hands, he placed a green herb and finely ground salt.
As there was nothing more to do but to wait, Soddy returned to the arena.
Greed.
It was not yet time for the jousts, but nobody was going to practice. Now was the time to place bets, official, sanctioned, and otherwise. Soddy's agenda was set, though. He went through the crowds, talking to people, arranging bets - bets specifically on Ludwin or Shinjuro. He arranged bets dealing with large quantities of gold, then pulled individual betters aside and sold them apparently valid advice for a tiny cut of the better's winnings. After all, a Halfling with a keen business sense was, as Soddy's story went, not uncommon.
Eventually, he had made three rounds about the entire arena - no small feat for such a small creature - and had an inordinate amount of people betting on either Ludwin or Shinjuro. Of course, there were those who bet against them, and the yet large amount of people betting on other jousters, including a tiny following for Raleigh. It was time, now, for Soddy to wait.
The first jousts went by. Men lost and won. Shinjuro and Ludwin had gone, and both won their matches. Then, it came to be Raleigh's turn. This was the benchmark in Soddy's mind. If Raleigh could prove just competent enough to hold out against the average jouster, his plan would work better.
The two jousters sat on their horses, lances up, crowd cheering. Then, they lowered their lances and charged at eachother. Raleigh's lance tilted his opponent, and the crowd cheered. Soddy did not, but he did silently rejoice.
There was an intermission; short-term and single-match bets were accounted for, and the crowd bustled. When the next round came, it grew louder. Raleigh, Shinjuro, and Ludwin had all survived.
Each round that passed, the jousters appeared more and more exhausted, yet Soddy's plan was progressing smoothly. The three had yet to be thrown from their horses. Finally, the day's jousting was over, and it was time for merriment, jubilation, and festivity, all of which Amnish merchants readily capitalised on.
Soddy, however, returned to his tent. He donned his gloves and prepared vials, then filled them with the now purple fluid that he had begun making that morning. He concealed the vials and made his way to the jousters' quarters, where he found empty rooms and snuck into them.
Let us hope they are tired from today's entertainment.
He opened a vial and poured half of it onto one pillow, though the pillow did not stain purple, instead appearing as though water had been spilt on it, then moved to a different room which was not adjacent to the one he had already hit. He continued this process with multiple rooms, and when he finished, Soddy departed, returning to his tent.
He had to get sleep. So he slept. Seeing his mistress was somewhat rare, for he was always busy preparing her entertainment. In truth, he had to bargain with himself. Giving a higher dosage of the purple liquid would have made for more entertaining and obvious effects in the short term, but it would have compromised his plan, so he applied only the necessary amount. He could only pray to Urdlen that she could see what he was doing.
Day three. Upon waking, Soddy ate breakfast, finally, and began filling the second mixture into a larger vial. Posthaste, Soddy took the medicine to the stables, where he waited for Raleigh. When Raleigh arrived, he took Soddy to his horse and the Halfling applied the medicine. It would take time for it to begin kicking in, but it was just enough time for the calm before the storm to pass.
He took his leave, making his way to the seats to continue his campaign for Ludwin and Shinjuro's publicity and popularity. By now, not a single soul in the audience did not know the two jousters, and an unreal percentage of them were betting for one or the other. At one point, Soddy decided simply to find his mistress and enjoy the games.
The jousts began. A large number of the participants had unknowingly been poisoned, just enough that their performance was hindered but they would not suspect foul play, simply a hangover or absence of 'game' that day. To onlookers, their performance was normal, but Soddy saw the signs of his poison. He knew just how much, and exactly how individuals were suffering from it, the signs and symptoms.
Yet again, Raleigh, Ludwin, and Shinjuro made it through the day. The devious Halfling could see the effects of the medicine working, and they worked for the whole day, tapering off only slightly toward the end. Satisfied, he left for his temporary home. The nights were not particularly dark, as the dense tent city was always torchlit.
Soddy came upon his tent, but the owner was waiting for him. He demanded gold, as pure credit would not be enough.
"It is alright, sir. I have a cut of my winnings, here," the Halfling assured him as he surrendered a relative pittance from his stolen gold. With the landlord's greed sated, Soddy entered his tent and prepared new vials. The poison concoction was now totally finished; the stock that he used had completely dissolved, and it was closer to black than purple, now.
Tomorrow was the final day. The most crucial step of his plan had begun. He was counting on Shinjuro and Ludwin being out that evening. When Soddy heard them arguing, he was relieved. He slipped into the jousters' quarters and found their rooms, but did not enter them immediately. First was Ludwin's.
"The Master will surely win. He has triumphed most gloriously thusfar! Oh, yes, and when he wins, I will catch him, hot with excitement…" a woman in Ludwin's room soliloquied naughtily.
Either that is his betrothed, or Sir Ludwin is a very naughty man. Oh well. I cannot have her in there.
Soddy found a curtain in the hall and hid behind it, peeking his head out to say loudly, "Sir Ludwin Ulfamalor the Fourth summons you, M'lady!"
"Y-yes!" she responded and dashed out in a handsome dress. For a moment, she looked about the hall, but her excitement was great, and so she ran off to find her man at wherever she assumed he would be, or so Soddy thought. With the distraction out of the way, he made his move, climbing onto the bed and pouring the concentrated poison on the pillow. Then, he made for Shinjuro's room.
It was sure to be dangerous. No one was inside, but as Slitherspitter opened the door, he spotted a thin line at ankle-level.
Amateur.
It was no great feat to step over the line, but Soddy was very thorough in his inspection of the room before even entering it, and just as thorough with every step he took. Finally, though, he made it to the bed, after avoiding a few simple traps. Two vials of poison later, for Soddy figured that Shinjuro, being a half-orc, could use a bit extra, he left, minding the traps.
"I'm telling you, that Ludwin is going to use foul play. It's a certainty," Shinjuro's voice rumbled through the corridor. Soddy was right outside the room, so he bolted in the direction opposite to Shinjuro's voice, praying that he could turn a corner before Shinjuro turned his.
Just as the half-orc and another man's feet stepped from behind the wall, Soddy had rounded his corner. He panted and made his way out, back to the tent for dinner.
Day four. The last day. Soddy ate his breakfast quietly and packed the highest possible dosage of the medicine into a vial - the herb had nearly totally disintegrated, only its veiny structure remaining. Then, he met Raleigh at the stables.
"The difference is astonishing," Raleigh reported.
"Good. It does not seem as such from the stands. When you have won, meet me and the losers by the entrance to the arena."
"You're confident."
They waited a while, and Soddy applied the medicine only just before the jousts were to start. He needed to delay the effect so that it would be in full force only for Raleigh's final joust.
There was only one round. First up was Ludwin and another jouster. He came out onto the arena, his arms up and his voice howling in jubilation and self-endorsement. It was quite the show, and the crowd roared in excitement, their hopes incredibly high for the nobleman.
"Oh… I should conserve my arms' strength," Ludwin said to himself as his arms began to tremble with weakness, which he thought was due to holding them up. The other competitor made no flashy entrance and was simply focused ahead at Ludwin.
Ulfamalor lowered his visor and couched his lance. Then, they took off. Everything was in slow motion. Midway through the charge, he found that his arms had become heavy and his head ached to the point of bursting. His lance fell lower, and his opponent's smashed into him at full length, knocking the cocky noble to the ground.
The crowd roared in disbelief. So many people had their money on Ulfamalor, and he wasn't even defeated by Shinjuro, his prime rival. The disappointment in the crowd, voiced uninhibited, pleased Soddy, who had found a seat in the stands.
Next was Shinjuro. His large figure sat rigidly on his horse. The crowd's excitement grew jubilant again, hailing their other favorite with cheer. The half-orc did not make any unnecessary movements, as was his perceived character, but this time, it may not have been voluntary. His opponent emerged and was booed. They charged. From the get-go, however, Shinjuro was feeling the double-dosage, though it did not occur to him that it was poison.
Similarly, Shinjuro was tilted, and the crowd roared again, their disappointment now fury. At that moment, countless families had been driven poor, rich men confident in reliable individuals put into rags, while the betting booths vacuumed the gold in absurd amounts and a few men were made rich through the greed of others.
The winners of the matches against Shinjuro and Ludwin faced off, but many people were hastily trying to recover their losses through whatever means possible. After the match had ended, it was Raleigh's turn.
He was beaming underneath his armour, and his horse seemed ready to charge a dragon. His final opponent waited at the other side, and they charged at eachother. Unsuprisingly, Raleigh emerged the victor, but he was not met with any great cheering or happiness. He was, after all, simply one of the final three nobodies to joust. If it had been his opponent rather than him, nothing would have changed. Still, he knew that he had won more than victory.
Soddy waited at the agreed-upon location with the two companions of Shinjuro and Ludwin from the first day. They both served as witnesses to the deal, and were essential to completing it. The woman that Soddy had found in Ludwin's room stood beside one of the men, carrying a scroll-sized case. The other man held three katana and held his foot on a wooden box.
Ludwin arrived first, stripped of his armour and sweating, but all he could do was stand there and lament over his failure while they waited for Shinjuro, who followed suit in quite the same manner.
"There is one more person I would like to wait for, if you don't mind."
They were too exhausted to argue. Soon enough, Raleigh arrived, and the the witnesses began to surrender the wagers of the men they represented, Soddy cleared his throat and announced something.
"You will only be giving me the five thousand gold, sirs. The rest goes to Sir Raleigh Chanley."
Ludwin's eyes grew fierce and outraged, and, his security and ego compromised, for his woman was now being given to an apparently competent human, he screamed, "What?! That was never in the deal! You can't give my… my... betrothed and estate to this nobody!"
He failed to mention that Soddy was also a nobody. Perhaps it was because Soddy was not a threat.
"No, it was not, so you should not concern yourself with what I do with my winnings."
Raleigh took everything proudly, his ego lifted by the victory. That is, until Shinjuro threatened menacingly, "I know where Ludwin's estate is. If you ever hope to sleep peacefully there, you're out of luck, Chanley."
Contrary to Ludwin's feelings, his former betrothed trotted happily over to Raleigh's side.
I suppose that whore would happily trade husbands now that her previous one has been shamefully defeated and her new one gains power.
With a grin, Soddy feigned a bow and took his leave, Shinjuro's chest of coinpurses in his arms. He would allow them to suffer the aftermath, whatever may have happened. One thing he didn't want to do, though, was meet either of the scorned men again.
His job complete, Soddy returned to the tent, satisfied and pondering the many possible outcomes, rejoicing over the great spite that he had dealt in a great variety of degrees. His only hope was that his mistress was able to enjoy it as much as he did.
__
Lumli had gathered the morning of their departure from Luskan and tossed the oil lamps as she had remembered to do. Graciously taking a torch from the wall, she grinned wickedly and chucked the torch into the oil. The blaze immediately engulfed the foyer as she stepped out onto the porch and shooed Sod out toward the carriage. He carried the bulk weight of their good and shuffled haphazardly into the carriage as best as his so-called feeble body could. Lumli sat in the carriage admiring the blaze of the former home, the embers dancing in a sickening red blood color and then washing into the glimmer of golds and blues of the heavens.
She grinned as the flames licked the sky in a sensual tangle of smoke, soot, and flame. Sod hopped in the carriage and soon the driver was off. The two left their crumbling, torched, decaying hovel of a home in Luskan for the finer things of Amn - hopefully, if Urdlen would bless their venture to the best of it's abilities. Lumli also resolved on the ride that this would be one of the last tests she would have Sod accomplish. If he could pull off a joust con, well then he could just about pull of any chaos that Urdlen demanded of the two of them. She would have to show him now through example.
They traveled for around a week's time, from carriage to carriage, boat to carriage, whatever it took - until finally they arrived in Amn. It was marvelous, and bustling with people: perfect victims and innocent minds to prey upon with the mischief of the White Mole. Lumli's eyes glimmered behind the confines of her carriage window as she marveled at the amount of travelers heading toward the jousting tournament this particular week. She was giddy with anticipation. Sweat dripped down her wrists and on her palms as her body heated up just thinking of the scenarios. Urdlen was already preparing it, and now it was just her job to observe and report.
She and Sod sifted through the crowds toward the jousting ranges. They found a camping site near the arena and so each day of the tournament Lumli would be able to get a prime seat for the viewing. Sod had not told her of his plans for his final examination, but she was sure from his last prospects that he would do a fine job. She sat in a booth beside a large fat noble-ish man. He wore fine silks, that seemed to hang like curtains on his bulbous frame. She grimaced at the amount of odor permeating the man's body. Human odor was so rancid - seriously, pigs would have smelled better to her.
She made due by dabbing some perfume along her neck, and letting one of her loyal moles rest along her shoulder. Her moles' furs were far cleaner than probably any human within the arena. Soon the crowd started shouting and cheering. Most were cheering for one or another so-in-so's, but it mattered very little to Lumli. The only joy she got from watching sporting events, was the sheer bliss that came from the carnage of watching two races demolish each other for sheer sport. They announced the names and soon banners were flying and so were coinpurses to the dealers.
The bookies must have been growing golden by now with how much coin had graced their tips. She marveled at the stupidity to of it all - but then again, stupidity often caused chaos, so more power to the poor souls. She sat near the edge of the arena so as to overhear any conversations from the local jousters. Dear Sod. He was a little devil! She heard him skillfully plot a bait and switch routine and she hadn't even had to show him such. He lured them in with the thought of winning. Their greed took them over. It was glorious. She was going to certainly enjoy the jousts much more, now knowing the stakes.
The combination of the horse hooves, the clanging metal, and violent screams from demanding patrons was like a concoction of seductive sensation as Lumli sat watching in her seat. The shattering wooden lances as they splintered apart on impact and dented into the metal shields, resounded in her ears with a crackle of joyful undertones. The visual of brute force and discord between the masses was beautiful simply beautiful. Lumli marveled at the thrown men and the bruising, the lying, the cursing, the broken bones, blood, anything that came from the joust that was far more than the victory itself. She was enthralled in it all. It was sheer bliss for her. Urdlen was showering her with these gifts, she was sure of it.
The gift of carnage, of hatred, and of lust. It was all here, and she quite thoroughly enjoyed it all. She never really saw Sod the entire tournament, except for one small encounter when he came back to their tent for some supplies. She wished to rush him with kisses and passion, brought on by Urdlen's enjoyment of the tournament so far - however, her advances were not seen as important, in fact, he was quite shy about any sort of advances and dashed off as soon as Lumli managed to wrap her arm around him. Damn that boy. He was so good at what he did - it was hard to seeth in anger or frustration of any kind. Urdlen would only appreciate his dedication to his mission.
The final jousting day came and Lumli was clearly exhausted by all the chaos and conflicts amongst the masses. It was so enjoyable she didn't know which to watch first. The joust, crowd fights, domestic disputes amongst feuding couples, or something entirely different. The joust was eventually over and everyone booed at the outcome as some newcomer had won by a miraculous margin of victory. They lost all their money in the greed of the event. She savored every cried tear and every bloodied fist of frustration. She scurried out of the arena soon and followed the masses into the market - spotting Sod gloriously holding a hefty coin purse along his person. She marveled at her little slave.
_"Goodness my dear pet! You astound me yet again! I am sure you were praised for those actions. I heard the little scam you pulled - was anything else of that your doing as well?"
"Indeed Mistress, but p-please - I need no praise for that. It was my p-pleasure. I-I actually got a rush from trying to a-attempt something on s-such a grand scale."
"Well you did marvelously. So - speaking of pleasure - I believe the young chaos starter deserves a reward."
"… P-Perhaps we should find new housing within A-Amn if we are to continue with anything else?"_
She ran her fingernails teasingly along his dress shirt and grinned, nodding to him and herself. Housing would be the first task, and then soon they would continue their rampage of chaos - this time, upon the aimless Amnians. Together the two decided to stroll through the local marketplace and try to find a suiting inn for residence.
To Care, or Not to Care? That is The Question
They had found a cozy little cottage just at the edges of Amn, and here too, Lumli found great inspiration for their next deeds. Well around the house they now inhabited were farmers. There was farm land as far as the eye could see, and cattle and livestock roamed unhindered by their masters whims. It was like a blissful painting as she closed her eyes, and behind her lids all she dreamt of was that same pristine, picturesque background, burning to ashes. She wished the cows and sheep to go sick with hunger from the brutalized land; the farmers to grow poor, for they could harvest no food.
She wished the worst on them possible. Too much pretty and cute can degrade a person's mind - make it soft and feeble. She grumbled back into the confines of their humble country-side shack and looked at Sod. She paced back and forth on the floor, till splinters of uneven wood seemed to wish to give way into her feet. She suddenly stopped and glanced over her potions, ingredients, and knick-knacks that she so thoroughly collected over the years. Sod cocked his head in wonder at the woman as he began to clean up their former dinner, roast rabbit - medium rare.
She swirled her head back at him and cackled happily after a moment of contemplation. She danced around the table and even let her little moles run free in celebration across the floor. Sod had never seen her so jovial before and was concerned for her mental capacity. She hopped from the table and began grabbing up ingredients from her cupboards. Hogs feet, toad's breath, worm wart, kobold tongue; whatever she could muster up into a mixture she did so. Finally Sod had to speak up, for he had no idea what had snapped in the woman and was concerned for both her and his sakes. He dropped his plates onto the table and ran and grabbed Lumli by the arms to steady her steadily happier attitude.
_"Mistress? Is there something wrong? You seem - far too pleased with us just being on this - farm, than I have seen you all this time."
"Let go of me! I wish to make them suffer slowly Sod! Have you ever seen someone suffer slowly? Slowly decay into nothingness - and yet, not care about it?"
"Well I can say I've witnessed my share of suffering ye - wait - not care about it?"
"Yes Sod, my pet, it's called 'Sloth', the sin of not caring, and when you don't care about pain inflicted, damage done, or items lost - oh the fun it is!"
"I - I - I don't understand Mistress - I -"
"You will soon enough my pet! Now round up my moles and place them in their cages, and grab a few vials of this potion. Your final test has arrived."
"Final… test?"
"Yes my dear, if you pass this test, then I will know for certain that you are Urdlen's protegy, and I will carry you wherever I go - and we'll go sailing. Devastating the high seas, and islands, and people from all over. What do you say?"_
Sod was hesitant for a moment, trying to not sound overly joyful, nor unleash his rage and wrath right there upon her in his pleased mood. She had basically just given him an invitation to destroy the world with her, if he so chose to follow suit. His face, unversed in showing actual emotion, had a hard time smiling at this discovery, but he managed to do so fairly quickly, He was learning deception from Lumli fairly rapidly and keeping a poker face, or a tactful smile in the face of others would be necessary for their success. He did as he was told and nodded his head in acceptance, drawn to the idea of spending his life inflicting torment on those who tormented him.
He was with the woman who could guide him, love him - if love was even desired - care for him, and teach him horrible, wonderful, sadistic methods of which to inflict pain upon their enemies. She may have been different from the other folks he'd met in the past, but she was a good kind of different, a sick kind of different, the kind of different Sod wished to settle down with and burn a village with together. That'd be one hell of a first date. He headed out the doorway and followed Lumli in stride.
They hid behind a few stacks of hay that had been hauled up into the corner. There, Lumli gave Sod distinct instructions on the process that would follow, but gave the all clear for him to throw his own personal flair into it. A cozy, wicked grin nestled itself within the confines of his cheek bones as he nodded in approval. She was letting him cut his strings on this run, just as she had at the joust. She was beginning to trust him, and so for that, Sod would make sure this was one of his best performances.
He grabbed up the belt full of potions and took a few of his Mistress' moles, and slowly stalked over the barrels of hay and onto the farmland. His wicked eyes scanned the farm with a grin, as he looked back to Lumli in preparation. This farm would never know what hit them, quite literally. Sod and Lumli both rejoiced silently as Sod began his final initiation with undeniable malice.
__
Poison.
He loved it. It came in many forms and was subtle and an uncertain thing to the victim. This poison, in particular, was subtle, indeed, and it affected plants and animals differently. First, Soddy had to ensure that the farm would be crippled. He fed the moles a little bit of the potion and let them escape into the farmland at different places, so their individual territories would not be close together. They burrowed, fed, and prodded, spreading their waste and assimilating, to a certain extent, with the land.
Next, Soddy found every animal that he could and gave it a fair amount of Lumli's mixture, cutting the animals slightly and dripping it into their wound when they were uncooperative. After applying the poison to all of the livestock in the vast farm, the Halfling sprinkled it on the grazing grass and on crops, being careful to avoid notice. He had to interact with the farmhands and farmers, so it was crucial that he not be seen doing anything suspicious, let alone sabotaging the farm.
Finally, after much hard work, he left the fields proper and reapproached the homestead of the farm from a more realistic, civilian direction, still carrying the clear bottles of subtle poison, as well as a flask of water. He came upon the stead, then, wearing a classically cheery, Halfling face and demeanour. An older man answered the door.
"And who are you? It's past dusk, already. What do you want? he asked, none too warm.
"My name is Uldren," Soddy lied, "and I am mighty starved! Perhaps we might share drink and food! I assure you, my stock is potent and worth a dinner!" he patted his belt of poison, although it may have appeared as alcohol to the old man.
"Well, I'll be the judge of that! I'm Din Hayford. Come in."
Din welcomed Soddy into the stead, although a bit reluctantly. Soddy's status as a Halfling, none too uncommon around Amn, may have afforded him a lack of severe consideration. Dinner was, indeed, being prepared, and Din alerted his wife and children that they would be having an extra mouth to feed.
"Oh, Halfling drink, eh? Well, we'll have to give that a try!" Din's gaudy wife exclaimed. Although Din was an older man, most of his children appeared relatively young, and only three sons of his were older than sixteen. One daughter, the youngest lass, only insignificantly taller than Soddy himself, circled him in awe. He was not amused, but he retained his cheery, witlessly amused front.
"You's arf'lly short, mistah! You's a Halfwin?" inquired the child.
"That I am!"
Wretched, disgusting vermin-child. Die, die, die, die…
"Tha's amazin!' I'se nevah seen no Halfwin before. I guess they cohwll's you Halfwin a'cause you so teensy. Half a man! Hee, wittle Halfwin," she pressed Soddy. How he remained so patient and refrained from killing her there was a mystery, but he did, although he winced subtley.
After a bit of a wait, Soddy helped set the table and they all prepared to eat. A full bottle of Lumli's mixture had been poured for Din, his wife, and their three oldest sons. Another bottle had been brought to the farmhands in their quarters, seperate from the homestead. Soddy did not partake in his own drink, insisting that they receive fully his payment for the meal. Then, they ate.
Soddy had no real appetite, but he ate nonetheless as something to occupy him as he waited for the family to consume the poison. They did so, praising its strength and taste as alcohol, and unsuspecting of its true nature.
"I say, you have more of this, don't you? Are you going to be staying in the area long? asked a now jolly Din Hayford.
"Why, yes, I am! Why do you ask, good sir Din?"
"Well, I was just thinking, perhaps you would like to stay here for a while longer and pay for it with that spectacular drink of yours?"
Din was one step ahead of him. This pleased Soddy, for he preferred to be offered something he wanted rather than asking for it.
"Excellent! I shall eat dinner here, then, for as long as my stock survives. Worry not about my room; I have arrangements nearby."
They finished dinner, having completely downed the bottle, and then an extra, which Soddy had not expected. He could only imagine that the farmhands, typically more desperate men, would be dying for more. He said his overly cheery goodbyes and departed for the night to the cottage.
Withering. A slow deterioration.
He went again the next evening, eating joyously with them and giving them Lumli's poison, which they drank unwittingly and happily.
The poison began to take its toll. The plants and crops slowly and very subtley withered over the course of days. The livestock lost their appetite but retained their hunger. They became listless and lifeless: merely walking corpses. The family and farmhands who drank it also lost their appetites, and furthermore became uncaring and apathetic. Their intake of the poison slowed with the intake of anything else. Soddy was glad to adjust to this slower-paced, depressed state.
"The crops are not looking so well, but the men aren't even feeling up to tending them, nor I. It doesn't matter, though. There is always next year's harvest. And even then, what does it matter?" sighed Din one evening, a week into Soddy's visit to the farm. One of the younger sons, who had not consumed any of the poison, chimed in vehemently.
"What are you sayin?' We've everything invested in our farm. Hayford land stretches endlessly! Considerin' the cost of keepin' it, we need to harvest and sell, or we'll be put right out!" He was, however, largely ignored, and the younger children who had not been poisoned did not know what to say, so they, too, remained silent.
More time passed. Livestock, though only cattle and chickens, had begun to die. This went unnoticed, however, as none were ever out to tend the fields nor look after the animals.
It was a poison which could only be staved off through force of will. Mindless plants simply died. Animals with little willpower were overcome by its affects and died as well. Only stubborn creatures such as horses and pigs survived, yet they were nearly dead, and may as well have been given that they acted like corpses. Death came from starvation as well.
The lives of those in the farm were not going to be snuffed easily, if at all, by the poison, even though they received it in exponentially greater doses than the animals and crops. Soddy knew that their minds, however simple, were strong enough to resist even the side effects of the poison. So he had fed it to them nightly. Even though they drank less, by now, they ate less food to dilute the poison that they were affected about the same.
Listless, lifeless, and evidently horribly depressed, those who drank the poison rarely left their beds except to eat, which was also something of a rarity. Soddy was at the end of Lumli's poison, so he told the Hayford family that he may be around, but for them to otherwise not prepare his portion of dinner. They were relatively unresponsive and apathetic to his departure.
Two weeks after Soddy's first dinner with the Hayfords, their farm was dead. He had used the remainder of the poison on the sturdiest of their beasts, and they were all as dead as the crops. The only things that yet lived were the people who were supposed to tend to the farm, yet they were fully apathetic to its lifelessness. They had no willpower, save the youngest children, all of whom were worried and frightened by the ill fortune.
That night, Soddy left a note for Lumli. It read:
_This farm will burn,
It'll twist and turn,
Their minds are dead,
As it burns redThe morbid poem was written neatly for his mistress to enjoy, and one corner of the paper was burned and charred.
Late into the night, Soddy, having inspected the farmland, gauged the usual direction of the wind, and otherwise ensured the success of his plan, went out to the edge of one field and struck his knife against some flint. Sparks flew onto the dry and dead crops, and they took flame quickly. The smoke was nigh invisible in the night sky, but the flames were a beacon. He started another fire in the grazing pastures, burning already brown grass and long-dead livestock corpses alike. The fires spread throughout the farmland, until it was all consumed in a blaze of red.
Soddy went to the homestead, then, keeping himself a secret, and watching from around a corner as the sober children went in and out of the front door with water, pouring buckets of it fruitlessly onto the burning fields. That was only a portion of the sober children, however, as the youngest of them simply cried, while others attempted to save the farm and yet others tried desperately to get the adults to help. But the adults didn't care. Only after much screaming did Din wake and sluggishly walk to the front door, where he gazed upon his entire life in flames.
After much bleary-eyed gazing, he groaned and turned back into his house to return to sleep. His children called after him, but to no avail. Many who were fighting the fire had inhaled a fair bit of smoke, and so they went into the house to rest and breathe.
But, then, the wind changed, and the fires turned to the homestead, as Soddy had only partially predicted might happen. He stayed there as long as he could, relishing in the children's anguished cries for help. But those inside, and those in the farmhands' stead, did not help. They did not move, nor care, nor perhaps even notice that they were sleeping several paces away from raging fires.
Eventually the children, and even Soddy, had to flee. He ensured that he went unseen, but he did take one last look back at the homestead, now an inferno. He knew that the children would be forever scarred by this, and that pleased him. He knew their feelings of fear and isolation as those around them changed and became uncaring and without souls: no longer people, but shells of people who did not respond at all to things that they should respond to with a gusto. He knew, and he wanted all others to know as well.
With that, he retreated to the cottage and his mistress. He did not openly say it, but he thought that it would be best to relocate, as the flames could have taken their cottage as easily as they took the Hayford homestead. He was personally quite pleased with the results.
Fin_
