Day 57

(Little Rat POV)

I won our game by a wide margin last night. I extended my total further this morning by playing some more with Chanti. It almost seems like she's losing on purpose? After a fresh meal she leaves for her duties, limping slightly. I asked her what was wrong, but all she did was blush and shake her head telling me it was to be expected since I was a beast. I'm still not sure if she's praising or insulting me.

Finally I'm free to explore; I have orders she wrote on papyrus so that it looks like I'm doing some browsing for a future purchase, so as long as I stay near stores I will be given leeway. She even gave me something called 'spending money'. A pair of large copper circles.

The first place I go is to the place where weapons are made. I'm starting to miss Chirrik's amazing skills. Perhaps someone here is like that?

I am dreadfully disappointed. Not only is their work hot, slow and noisy with all the hammering and the forges... it is also very simple. The things Chirrik makes are weird and unique, with patterns and grace. The things here are uniform and the few that are made with beauty are solely for decoration.

There is no freedom or creativity. I wonder why?

To understand this question I seek out all the places like this. I see places that cater to things I could not understand. Things like the games I play with Chanti, the drinking and competing.

I stop in one, to observe and receive jeers and spittle.

A group of men move to assault me, acting like friends. I have seen that look before from the slave guards. I give them a wide berth, understanding this place is not sweet like Chanti; this is sour and ugly.

Following this I look around and find a place even more vile.

It is a compound, fenced but clearly designed to keep people in not out. The guards are stationed at the walls and armed with heavy batons. Outside are large buildings and a wide open area, including several cages filled with people and beasts.

I see people like none I have seen before. Some look hairy like me. Three are like this, but bigger than any of my people I have seen before. The teeth and head are a different shape. The ears pointed. They're twice as tall as me and tower over even the tallest of Ape-men by head and shoulders. They're chained AND caged, with an armed guard at the door.

Curious I slink over to the far side of the cage, using an empty cart as cover.

The ears of these three perk as I creep close, but they remain still and silent.

One stands slowly from where he lay chained, slowly and nonchalantly walking over to the corner with a limp, from his right leg's manacle. He pretends to stretch his legs, using his bulk to block the gaze of the guard as he gestured me to approach.

His chest is a mass of grey fur, his right eye and that side of his face a mass of scars. A hand, tipped by long claws grasps the bars.

He whispers in a tone lower than any I have heard used to speak, but his words are clear and I understand the intent. The guard can't hear speech this low. (Ultrasonic!)

“Do you hear me little one?” [????]

I nod.

“Are you an escaped slave?” [????]

I shake my head, since I'm currently an owned one.

His look is sharper at that information.

“Can you help us?” [????]

I shrug.

“Will you?” [????]

“If I can.” I whisper.

The big male seems to struggle to hold back laughter. His cell-mates writhe at the same time.

“Thank you... little one. We could use food, they starve us to make us ferocious.” [????]

“Why would anyone do such a thing? This is utter stupidity!” [Tirmin whispers]

“We cannot disagree, this is a ridiculous notion. We will not be more or less angry on an empty stomach. We will just be feeble and weak.” [????]

“Why would they do this to you? What possible use could all of this be?” [Tirmin]

“Why, we are slaves fit only for violence in the eyes of our captors.” [????] “This is insane. All of it. But the point is not the insanity, but to sell that for coins as amusement to the wealthy. We will be used as wretched killers until we are too maimed or sick to survive our assigned opponents and die. They will wager large sums of money on our survival.”

“This is the purpose of slaves?!” [Tirmin]

“One, another is to labor. Or to whore. Or to be tortured to death.” [????]

“If I help you, feed you... eventually find a way to open your cage... can you get out of this place?” [Tirmin]

“I do not know, little one. But we will try.” [????]

“However I will not do this for no reason. I pity you, understand but my purpose here is beyond merely helping a handful of slaves escape.” [Tirmin]

“Your purpose?!” The male looked at him with wide eyes and a new appreciation. “You have an agenda. I see. So it will be give and take. For our lives we can abide by a few little errands. What do you intend, bold one?” [????]

He stopped using 'little'. Is this respect?

“I cannot reveal all our plans, but I am the hand of a greater power. My friend desires resources, if I ease your path I will require you to steal a large supply of goods and deliver them to a location in the wild areas of the labyrinth nearby. This will seem strange to you, but if you meet this friend you might learn the full truth.” I shrug. “If you do this then you have no further obligations. Think on this, confer among yourselves. I will return in a day with food, at this time to hear your reply. After you eat.”

The grey furred male took this suggestion well, since this meant that at very least they would get food, regardless.

“Bold one, I Karamech of Gatyum offer you my salute. It shall be as you say. We shall give you our reply on the next day.” [Karamech] “But as you can only be a slave, how will you explain this absence to your owner?”

“I am pleased to meet you as well, Karamech. My name is Tirmin. Do not concern yourself, I am not that kind of slave.” I replied.

“Tirmin the bold... come to us as a brother. Even if we do not escape, for your aid and this offer of food I will offer something equal in value, so that even if we die in vain you shall be paid in full for this kindness.” [Karamech] “We three of the Gatyum Clan of the Hortun people are renowned. We will offer you things no one less than a brother to us would receive.”

I crawl away as they send many more encouraging calls to my back as the great Karamech pretends to urinate, covering my escape with his body as he did when I approached.

Hmm.

I'm going to need money, in excess of my pitiful coinage. I have seen how little the circles are worth in great detail from the stalls, I could not fill any stomach but my own with it. The trio of 'gladiators' would not see it as more than a morsel. I may need to take it without payment.

I'm going to need a target for them to take, so I will have Chanti look into that side of her work. I have a few ideas about how to get them through the gate but if I can't use this toward our goals I'll be failing Chirrik who gave me this chance.

On the way back home, I see these places from before with new eyes.

The tavern, the brothel... they make my heart twist with sorrow at the fate of all of these slave girls.

The craftsmen, the smiths... they are slaves too. They are trapped and forced to produce mass quantities of items they do not love. This is why they do not compare to Chirrik: they are not allowed to do more than make what they are ordered. It results in uninspired, sub-par items. The only virtue is the number produced. But Chirrik can produce faster than any one of them too. It is a self-defeating system.

In a numbers battle, the sheer mass of smiths out-strips Chirrik's production speed by brute force. But I cannot envision a thousand men armed with these swords stopping even one giant-bone golem. Even if he doesn't use those tactics, whatever he brings to bear will be of awesome might. The difference between the best of this city's master smiths and Chirrik's best is beyond my ability to estimate. It would be like trying to measure the height of a room by stacking grains of sand.

Chanti was quite concerned about my venturing into the 'tepid grime at the heart of this decadent city' as she put it. But that is beside the point. I tell her so. I have a duty, which is just as much her own, with that geas thing on her. Besides, if she does well and acts faithfully I cannot see Chirrik punishing her further. The opposite in fact.

I tell her I'd like to have an idea of when the best caravans are leaving with regards to our plans. I'll need the prison break to coincide with this.

I ask her when gladiator slaves fight and how often.

Her reply gives me pause.

“Everyday.” [Chanti]

So it may be that they will die before the time is right.

Oh, I hate this!

What we learned:

New species, new problems.

Chanti: is now mothering Tirmin...

The city has only shown the surface layers of the true depravity.

Karamech and the other two aren't rodents. They have different teeth. Fangs...