I am dreaming of my creator and his freedom. I return to him in triumph and shatter the chains, which entrap him. We embrace, savouring the moment of joy and happiness forevermore. I enjoy the caress of his hand across my brow, soft, gentle and … furry?

Sitting up slowly, I wait until I am comfortable and my head steady before I open my eyes. Instinctively I check for a bump on my head to find none, tough head I guess, although not immune to a rock larger than my head being wielded accurately by a large humanoid creature.

Light sneaks in around the crude door, a huge rock blocking the entrance to my new quarters. Sand and pebbles litter the floor of the cave I am in, it is extensive, with shadow painting the distant walls and high ceiling. I strain my ears and eavesdrop on the snoring on the other side of the rock door. I also home in on feint fretting.

The whimpering is directly behind me. I stand and slowly turn to scan the walls. The scampering of the creature would usually avoid detection, unfortunately for the creature, the snoring stops and starts long enough to allow me to track its source. I quickly realise it is trying to maintain a position behind me. Smart, the edges of the cave are inky black, and I could easily surmise I am alone in my misery. The mystery though, is why take care of me and then hide from me.

“I will not hurt you,” I whisper to the cave.

Silence.

“I will not hurt you,” I whisper in kobold speech.

Silence.

“I will not hurt you,” I whisper in orc speech.

Silence and I wait.

The voice of the speaker rasps out a reply in kobold and I accept it is feminine without sighting its owner.

“You promise on your life to honour the sanctity and protection of the one who healed you?”

“Did you heal me, or did I recover naturally with rest?”

“I cared for you, ensured you were comfortable, wiped your brow. If I still carried my herbs, ointments and could recover my magic I would have, without reservation done more.”

“I don’t believe you healed me, so I give you my oath. If you don’t hinder or hurt me, I won’t attack you.”

Silence and then a scuffle as soft footsteps carry my speaking friend out of the gloom.

She is the opposite of me, covered in white and black fur, shorter than I, perhaps to my belly in height. Long snout-like face ending in a black wet nose. Dark eyes on either side of her snout glisten in the poor light. I open my mouth to ask, she speaks first.

“What creature are you?”

“I am Human, or at least trying to be.”

“You display no hair or fur. I am sorry for you … human?”

She expresses sorry due to my lack of fur and only then queries or asks about me being human? The way she said human, I must be the first she has seen. Hair or fur, perhaps all are beast races, perhaps she is a beast race.

“What beast race are you?”

“I am Badger Kin, we are not difficult to recognise, being the smallest if nothing else, unless you’ve never seen any beast kin before,” she accuses.

Well, she has me there, a case of incomplete information leading to a difficult explanation.

“A Dungeon is my home, and I am newly spawned, so I don’t have much knowledge of the world outside.”

“What is a Dungeon?”

“Perhaps we can answer each other’s questions when we are free of our prison?” I need to gain my freedom and chatting to my furry quaint acquaintance isn’t fruitful.

I hear a snorting, wheezing sound. Her bent over body leads me to conclude this is her laughing.

“It is good to have humour before one’s death. The ogre chef has been wondering what to do about my fur, fortunately, you arrived and being completely skin I believe you are next for the ogre’s table.”

“How many been taken before you and arrived after you?” I ask with a shallow growl in my voice.

“Remember your oath to me before you anger. It is no fault of mine you grow no fur or hair while my fur is abundant and luxurious and proving difficult for the chef to account for.”

“Why don’t they just skin you like a rabbit and expose your flesh?”

She squeaks and stomps about somewhat. Agitated perhaps? I hope so.

She stops, arms ridged by her sides. “Don’t speak such words! They cook over an open fire, they haven’t the knowledge of or skill for skinning, they rip and tear their food and the Great Ogre is now cultured and prefers his food without fur and hair, which is as it should be for someone as intelligent and important as him.”

“Why do I get the feeling, my hairless body is his greatest joy?” I mutter not expecting a response.

The intelligent beast relaxes. “And my salvation my dear, you save me from cruel and indignant experimentation, for which I thank you.”

Her words are spoken with such earnest conviction I accept her sincerity much to my annoyance. This leads me to an idea, although I need to be friendly.

“What is your name?” I ask my short stocky acquaintance, a deliberate playfulness in my voice.

“I don’t believe knowing my name or me knowing your name will be … beneficial, after all, you may be an ogre feast soon?”

I brush off the rebuff and smile, delicately showing my teeth and issuing a measured guffaw. You know, nice joke.

“So how did you end up in here?”

She tilts her head to one side, the universal sign of thinking, perhaps considering or at least I hope so.

“I joined a caravan to fulfil a healer commission, which the Ogre Lord’s tribe raided. He has been very active and annoyed some powerful beast kin and I am hopeful they act before I become his next feast.”

“My arrival then ensures you live a little longer …” I muse over my statement and notice her nodding cautiously as she backs up a step.

“I am sorry of course,” she assures me.

“So how many died to keep you alive?” Time to dig and twist with my words, try some guilt perhaps.

Small tears gather under her doleful eyes and a huge knot of mean twists in my stomach. It requires a cruel amount of will to resist embracing her and apologising.

She sobs. “You who know nothing of this world, then berate me for doing everything I can to survive as if it is a bad thing to want to live.”

She wipes the tears away with the backs of her paws, exposing the three chubby fingers and an opposable thumb on each. My stomach twists and churns in sympathy, although I remain strong, my face passive and basalt stony.

“You humans don’t have any compassion, do you?” She recovers quickly, tears gone, snout forward and one of her stubby hands pointing at me. I … well don’t recover as quickly from her change in demeanour!

“All beast kin would’ve embraced me by now, be apologising and patting my impressive fur. You! You just stand there.” She stomps her foot and then heads away from me.

Over her shoulder, she adds, “Well perhaps not the snake kin who pride themselves on being cold and heartless. Also, no fur!” I miss some mumbling while considering my options. Perhaps all badger kin or possibly this one alone is proving difficult to befriend. I decide on a direct approach.

“Since the Ogre Lord values, me, would you be willing to cry out that I am ill to lure the guards in?”

“So now you wish me to aid you in deception?”

“Well yes. You’ve been here too long already, whoever is upset should be here by now and they aren’t, so my death will buy you a little more life at best.” I stand with my hands on my hips and stare directly at the back of her furry head.

She halts, her head slowly rising as she searches for my face, her plump body lumbering to turnabout.

“You are a peculiar sow human, although confident and I assume skilled with weapons,” she sighs in her snorting sort of way, “and I agree, if I were to be rescued, I would know by now. So, I will do as you say.” She stands before me after her last spoken word, staring up into my eyes, searching for what, I can’t determine.

“I am known as Dawnanda Gentlewind of Meadowvale Sett,” she states.

Sensing the pride in her voice while proclaiming her name and her land of origin, I am determined to announce such a name for myself. Not vain, mainly due to loneliness I realise and perhaps my name will dispel the sadness currently surrounding me. I am not simply alone; I am beginning to accept I am unique. I can accept brutal creatures thinking of me as an object and nothing else. What I can’t quite grasp is how this intelligent beast kin, is unable to recognise a human when she meets one.

“I am known as Aphrodite, Daughter of Prometheus of Quest Dungeon Azizos.”

She reaches out her stubby hand and I shake it sealing our partnership.

“Now lay near the entrance and I will yell for assistance. Be warned four ogre guards guard this cavern, and it requires at least three to push the rock, so you must kill two or they will push the rock back and wait for reinforcements. Then the Ogre Lord will feast early upon us I suspect, when he is angry, he is less civilised regarding his meal preparation.” I notice her swallow and therefore accept her words as truth.

I knelt, bent over ‘in pain’ on one side of the entrance, praying to Prometheus my jailors would push the rock from this same side, positioned nearest to freedom. I glance over my shoulder and curtly nod to my partner in escape.

---

“You healer you fix!”

After an indeterminable time of pleading from Dawnanda and yelps of pain from myself, we receive four words and thunderous booming laughter, as if they couldn’t contain the in-joke any longer.

We face each other with resigned frowns.

“They understood kobold!” I slap my forehead. The laughing restarts, confirming my suspicion.

My partner plops down, her snout resting on her chest and her short arms around her knees. I rest my hand upon her furry shoulder, leaning over to reach.

“Another plan perhaps?”

Her eyes scan up, death resides within them. My words regarding her rescuer is subtle confirmation of what she tried not to consider and thereby contemplate as fact.

“What did they do when they fetched others for their Lord’s feast?”

She starts to mumble, and I wave her to stop and point to the furthermost, darkest corner of the cavern. She nods and pads over to it and then plops down again. Her faltering attitude concerns me as I would need to depend upon her. At this moment I would welcome the fatalistic attitude of my kobold acquaintance and her bloody fingers demonstrating her determination to survive regardless of her chances.

She waits for me and as I kneel, I encroach upon her space until her head flicks back at which point, I maintain the now acceptable distance. I needed to be nearby, to prevent overhearing, why doesn’t she recognise this?

“Two ogre guards accompanied the chef, while the other four stood by the rock. The chef smelt them and then the two ogre guards would pin them down while he sliced some flesh. As you can imagine shouting and slow bleeding occupied the main course of the next meal and then they left. The next time they would visit and escort the main course away with them.”

I reach across and hug her across her shoulders. She stares up at me, I couldn’t read her face, too much fur and well she is badger kin.

“You are a truly peculiar sow human,” Dawnanda whispers while shaking her head slightly.

“Would you mind removing some of your clothing, so I can camouflage you in the shadows at one end of the cavern?” I whisper.

She opens her mouth wide and then to my relief realises she shouldn’t regardless of her opposition as she finally comprehends this is about survival. She nods.

“I will hide you in darkness using your dark leather over your white fur, you will need to face the wall and given their patience we will need to wait and wait. Are you prepared to?”

“What will you be doing?”

“I am hopeful my basalt black skin and a certain affinity if required, will allow me to hide in the cavern shadows.”

“Your black skin is a deeper black than my fur, I don’t believe it will require much, erm affinity, whatever that is.”

“I will need to move while hidden depending upon how they react to us disappearing and more importantly if they find you before I can find a way for both of us to escape.”

“We won’t need to wait too long, a meal of mashed insect with mushroom, and water is due,” she ignores my encouraging smile, “and you haven’t eaten it for as long as me.”

Character Sheet: Aphrodite Name: Aphrodite Culture: Greek Mythos Race: Human Superior Spirit: Human Body: Living Basalt Soul: Dungeon Dominate Sentient Dominate: 14% Monster Dominate: 11% Dungeon Dominate: 58% Hominine Essence: Level 10 Avine Essence: Level 10 Dragon Essence: Level 0 Strength: 65 Grasp: 65 Toughness: 65 Constitution: 65 Vigour: 65 Endurance: 65 Dexterity: 65 Agility: 65 Quickness: 55 Wisdom: 75 Perception: 55 Mettle: 55 Intelligence: 50 Willpower: 20 Power: 20 Charisma: 20 Glamour: 50 Beauty: 100 Languages: Greek Kobold Orc Gifts: Regeneration Prolific Fertility Shadow Hide Silent Step Spear: Level 2 Halberd: Level 1 Bow: Level 2 Sword: Level 15