《Isekai'D Shoggoth》Interlude 14. Somewhere In The Sultanate…
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Aisha huffed. Darn husk just wouldn't move! That narrow passage between the two houses was the most convenient way to the well, and the husk just would not step out of it. She knew better than try to manhandle the dead body chock-full of magical bees, but nothing else she tried registered with the darn thing. As it was, she was forced to circle around the whole quarter, adding more than twice over to her overall path. Which, while you were unladen, was not that much of a deal, but mattered a whole lot when you were walking back with a heavy clay jug of water on your head!
She snorted and turned away from the annoyance resolutely. The fear she used to have when the curse descended had long ago abated into a dull apathy. The rules were simple. So long as you did not grasp a weapon or a flower, dead would leave you be. Mostly. As the third son of Ahmed-bey Masoud had amply demonstrated, simply being up to no good is also a no-no. Thinking it up is fine, acting on it? Well. Right until the moment you raise your hand to someone else, then it's bees. Cadavers allowed a certain leeway, while at that - facsimile casting was permitted, for all the good that drawn or folded flowers could do. Using knives for cooking or craft was also permissible, so long as you left the knife where you were working with it or packed it up with other tools before going anywhere.
So while the initial weeks were a time of great terror and many horrifying deaths, life had soon settled into some kind of perverse serenity. As blasphemous as the thought was, Aisha mulled, as she circled the quarter diligently, the dead ended up being a better shield for the poor than the sultan ever was. In no small part because the dead also shielded the poor from the sultan and his beys. She exchanged a greeting with one of the greatest benefactors of the dead rising up, passing by him as her thoughts strayed in that direction. A slave who used to be unable to even speak up because of the collar with harsh conditions, now counting the days until the ship was to take him back to his northern country. Kraut, to hear the guy tell it, was a land of wonders and freedom. His former master was among the first to perish due to blunt refusal to even consider taking off the armband that controlled his slaves by their collars. The man was dead, the armband still dangling off the shriveling arm as his body ambled around, buzzing and lurching, the collars popping open with his demise. That, in itself, was rather weird. Normally, if a slave owner died, their armband could be passed to another member of the family and reliably held the slave meanwhile. Ones who run afoul of bees? Their armbands were very much lost and the collars connected to them popped open by themselves. A condition of the curse, apparently. The vast majority of slaves suddenly found themselves entirely unhindered, mostly due to the dead owner. A few still had their collars locked, but no one would dare to put on the matching armband for the fear of dead and bees.
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The same thing happened across the country. Slaves finding themselves without any passable way to actually keep them enslaved. The second wave of violence that blazed on the heels of that revelation was almost bloodier than the initial bee culling, even if not quite as numerous in corpses. Still, many a slave had taken bloody revenge on their former master and escaped in the chaotic first weeks. This, among other things, was held as proof that "shaitan hanum" from the north was planning nothing less than a complete demise of the Sultanate. Common folk quietly disagreed. The end of beys? Sure, entirely possible. The end of people? Not really looking like it. When all is said and done, the husks and the bees proved themselves to be better city guard than guards themselves, because they took no bribes, saw no titles and cared for nothing but maintaining their mandate, regardless of anything and anyone. Now if only they could understand simple words...
Emptying the full jug into the basin in the middle of the yard, Aisha sighed. It would take a lot more trips before she could honestly say there is enough for the needs of the household. A lot more. In a fit of pique, she grabbed the other jug and as she passed by the husk blocking the passage, she thrust the jug into its hands, snapping - "'ajaeal nafsak mfydana, ealaa alaql!" It grasped the jug, making those weird slurping-buzzing noise the husks usually emitted. Then, much to her surprise and alarm, it began following her. Blinking, Aisha turned back to the yard, circled around the basin and... YES. The thing followed her! Fine then. Using the freed passage, she ran towards the well, filled her jug and trotted back as quickly as she could before the mindless thing could change its absent mind and block the passage again. Much to her flabbergasted surprise, it actually brought in the full jug and emptied it into the basin right after her. Intrigued, Aisha set the jug aside and stood aside to watch. And it was worth watching, alright! The husk would shamble over to the well, shamble back in and empty the jug into the basin, then immediately depart for the next portion.
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"Ya lilfurh. Alan ealay 'an 'ashrah hdha bitariqat ma." - she muttered, considering the suddenly helpful husk with a baleful eye. On one hand, it was unusual, and therefore possibly dangerous. On other... The possibilities. Now it all hinged on if she could dupe the husks into fulfilling some of the other menial chores...
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CHRONICLES of a PC Gamer Stuck Inside an RPG Book One: Duelist
[2/28/19 update: The CHRONICLES series has been removed from Kindle Unlimited. This means the beta version of this series is now available on RR. Enjoy!] Meet Lawrence Eugene Mulligan, a fantasy writer by day and avid PC gamer by night. One day, he woke up and found himself in another world, inside an RPG (role playing game). This litRPG genre web serial chronicles Larry's trials in trying to survive and find a way home. Book One: Duelist covers the first seven days of Larry's adventures inside Britannia. It is a slice-of-life magical realism story with LitRPG elements. This serial is written by Antony W.F. Chow, and the work has been officially published on Amazon: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B075SRPWZT The cover was created by Sid Ceaser using Dreamstime.com stock photo ID #30738296, Old Medieval Street; and the original image was copyrighted by Unholyvault. The image was used based on Dreamstime.com's Royalty Free license. All rights reserved.
8 120The Traveling Musician
A man, a laptop, and the opportunity of a lifetime. To recreate himself in his ideal image. However, he is given a limit of 10,000 creation points to do so. Discovering that it was possible to change his race from a human to a god, the man decides to do just that. However, the cost to become a god wasn't a cheap, costing 15,000 creation points, more than he was allowed to spend. Finding a workaround, the man was able to change his race into that of the powerful beings that are gods. However, unlike what he had in mind, he finds out that he is not the powerful deity he believed himself to be. Instead, he has nearly all the characterstics of a common man, outside of his divine talent for music. And it is divine, for he became the god of music, and must now rely on his divine talents to survive and navigate a new world...
8 135Rekindle
My Newest, and at the same time, Oldest novel. This is a Rewrite of my very first novel that I begun when I was just starting out. It follows the story of Mark Floyd, a broken man who once tried to do what he thought was right... only to be stabbed in the back and thrown away.Now, pulled into a conflict that spans time and space, Mark has a choice to make; Stand up once more, even if it means facing an unknowable future, or let the Embers of his heart die and sink back into darkness. ----------------------------------- “For gold is tried in the fire, and acceptable men in the furnace of adversity”. Once part of a Special Ops team in the US Army, Mark Floyd thought he had seen the worst that Humanity had to offer. That was until his final mission, one that would leave him a broken and shattered man, betrayed by the Country he served, and abandoned by society as a whole. His dreams filled with nightmares of the ones he failed to protect, mind and memories clouded by booze and more, Mark finds himself stumbling through life without purpose or desire. Life isn't done with Mark yet, however. For as long as even a single ember remains in a persons heart, here is still yet hope for the flames of Passion and Hope to be Rekindled. When the dying embers of Mark's heart catches the eyes of a Being far beyond his understanding, Mark finds himself thrown into a situation not even his years of training could prepare him for. Will this new chance be Mark's hope at both Redemption and Recompense? Or will it simply be the final nail in the coffin for a man already dead to the World? [This is a rework of my very first story. The general story will remain the same, however a few details have been tweaked, the chapters have be Edited better and some chapters have been broken down into smaller chunks for better flow and consistency. The biggest change will be to the System itself; It will be a lot less "Game-like", meaning no stats, levels or similar aspect, though skills will still be present in the form of "Programs". Instead, It'll focus more on the Sigil's nature as super-computers and how they change the world around them. This should make for a much more "natural" and less info-dumpy system.
8 118Viking Rune Smith
Ragnarok is coming. To save this world, I mastered the secret rune magic, crafted the most powerful weapons and armor ever devised, and enslaved every living soul to me. Now, all men serve me, and all women desire to bear my powerful offspring. I am the All-Father, the Rune Smith. The God King. The only one standing between the end times and life everlasting. But once, my name was Aaron, and I came from a world named Earth and an Alaskan village named Talkeetna. This is my saga.
8 134My unsent poems
Poems that have a destination but will forever stay in my drawer
8 88Mrs.Heroic [MAGI X BHNA CROSSOVER]
She somehow ended up in a place where there was no Kings, instead there were hero's.A place without dungeons instead there were Quirks.A place where there were no slaves, instead, nothing.A place without Alma-Thurman instead Villains.------"What is your name?""My name is Morgiana Fannalis"------"Where are your parents?""I don't know."------"YOU WOULD'VE BEEN KILLED! WHY DID YOU FIGHT?!"".....I just wanted to be helpful."------"Why are you up late?""I'm just thinking about my saviors."------"Oh. Morgiana~~""WHY ARE YOU ALIVE?!"------"Do you like someone???""There was a person who said that he loved me, and that when he returns I should give him a proper answer, but I don't know how to love."------"You said you were saved, what were you saved from?""My past."------
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