Chapter XII: Those Who Swelter

*Ding-dong* *Ding-dong* *Ding-dong*

Pierre shakes Alakar awake and yells, “You hear that, that’s the bell! Get up! Our day is starting early.”

He swats at Pierre, and rolls back over onto his side.

Pierre says, “You have to get up now, everyone is expected to shower today, and if you’re not there, they’ll be punished severely.”

Alakar rolls onto his back and complains, “Ugh, I didn’t sleep at all, and this bed sucks. I’d almost be better off sleeping on the floor.”

Pierre explains, “You are sleeping on the floor. Now get up. I have to go wake up the others just like you.”

Alakar sighs, and says, “Fine. Where are the showers?”

Pierre says, “It’s just one shower… And it’s at the end of the hall. You’ll want to be there first to set a good impression. Also, don’t forget to keep to yourself. The lady Rakahshas will take note of troublemakers.”

Alakar grunts and staggers out of the room while slamming the door behind him. His eyelids hang low, and he feels tired.

The walk down the hall feels even more exhausting, and he passes many people, ignoring them all. He is fairly certain that the slave trade’s drugs are still affecting him, and his current living sitution isn’t helping either. His miniscule train of thought and wandering mind comes to halt though, as he slams into a person in front of him.

He bounced backwards and onto his butt. An elf dressed in a similar nightgown as Pierre looked down on him with disgust. They both shot each other dirty looks, yet Alakar just stood up and peered ahead of the line before him. There was a line down the hall and fifty some people were formed up in a column. Alakar immediately knew of the real reason why he was told to get here early - the line to shower would be long.

His assumption was wrong though, and the line moved forward at a quick pace. It didn’t take long until he came to the entrance of the shower, and five Rakahsha were posted up near the entrance with staves in hand. They were dressed up like typical mages, and in a way, they reminded him of Mel. Their appearance made him miss his cousin, and the rest of his family. Yet before he could feel homesick, he was ushered to the open doors of the shower.

One of the lady Rakahshas speaks, “Strip down, and toss your clothes into the basket.”

He saw many naked people ahead of him and followed the instructions. Plus, he was tired of wearing the same old dirty rags. The homemade garment was tattered beyond belief and it made him smell. He could only hope that he’d collect it later though, as it was the only thing left he had to remind him of Margrett.

Upon entering the shower, he noticed it wasn’t all that different from the rest of the pyramid. The room was made of sandstone and had large metal drains at the bottom of the floor. When he was a human, he’d normally take a bath; showers were a thing of the nobility, and he wasn’t sure what to expect.

He was somewhat looking forward to getting cleaned up, however the wait was annoying to him as more people were shuffled in. He was crammed side to side with many other naked bodies. Dwarves, gnomes, humans, and elves of both sexes were all squeezed into a small area, along with one goblin. No one seemed thrilled about it.

*Slam*

The shower doors had shut, and the five Rakahsha walked up a wooden balcony within the room. They took their time while slowly ascending the steps towards the balcony. To Alakar, it almost felt like they did it on purpose, especially since it was so obvious that everyone wanted this event to be over with as soon as possible.

One of the Rakahshas shouts, “Let the shower begin! Be quick with yourselves!”

The five Rakahsha hoisted their staves into the air with their paws and shot jets of cold water from them. Many people screamed from the freezing cold water that came from their spells. Some people were seen spinning around the best they could to remove the greim. Others, like Alakar, avoided the cold water, and a few just stood there with hollow expressions. The jets only lasted a few minutes, and once they were over, the shower doors magically popped open and people rushed out.

The largest people present pushed their way to the front to leave, and many smaller peoples like Alakar were forced to leave the shower last. There was no further instruction, so he followed the action of others. Everyone searched through the baskets on their way out. And most of them walked down the hall naked with clothes in hand, yet others were seen getting dressed right then and there in the hallway.

Alakar had no issue with indecency, yet it was clear others did. Regardless, he rummaged through a basket, found his clothes, and walked back to his room. He was awake now, but his body still felt fatigued.

As he entered his room, he found Pierre already dressed in a brown nightgown.

Pierre says, “Your new clothes were delivered just now, along with your days rations. I trust you remember your routine we talked about yesterday?”

Alakar walks up to the dresser and gazes upon a neatly folded tuxedo and a loaf of bread, and says, “What the fuck is this? You can’t expect me to wear this costume?”

Pierre says, “I don’t expect you to, but our Lord does… I highly recommend that you do, and make sure you savor your rations throughout the day.”

As Pierre was speaking, Alakar was shoving the entire loaf of bread down his gullet.

With a full mouth, he turns to him and mumbles, “You were saying?”

Pierre replies, “Never mind… Please, just stay out of trouble for today, and do your best.”

Pierre walked out of the room, and Alakar was left with the option of wearing a tuxedo or rags. He would much rather put on the rags right now but heeded the advice of his bunkmate. As he was putting on the tuxedo, he realized that it was perfectly fitted to his size. He wasn’t sure if it was magical or if he was measured in his sleep; both ideas creeped him out, and he dismissed them.

Once he felt dressed enough, he groaned, and went off to complete his first morning task.

He needed to go around the first floor of the pyramid and prop up every single trash can that was dumped over the night. Pierre told him that Lord Rawscow had a constant habit of searching through the cans and dumping them while everyone slept.

Alakar approached the first can nearest to him. It was tipped over onto its side, and the contents of it had spilled out all over the floor. First thing he did was prop the can upright, and this was challenging. He wasn’t quite the same height as the can and lacked leverage. The can also weighed more than him, so it made it even harder. They were made of sandstone, likely formed from some sort of earth magic.

With a bit of struggle, he propped it up, and tossed garbage back into the can. Most of the garbage were small bones that had little pieces of meat left on them. No one would entertain the idea of eating such scraps, but they weren't goblins. His appetite as a man was fair, but since his transformation, it was increased. So, he nibbled at the little bits stuck to the bones, and then threw the pieces back into the can.

Alakar dusts his hands off in satisfaction and says, “Well that wasn’t too bad, on to the next one.”

Hours passed, and it was nearing noon. He lost count of the cans, and started to sweat profusely. The pyramid was relatively cool compared to the desert air, yet it was still hot to him. He was used to the heat and hard work, so he figured it must have been his goblin body.

He came up to one of the last cans near Rawscow’s bedroom. There was a horrible smell coming from it. The smell was rancid, and his goblin nose almost couldn’t handle it.

Someone had, without a doubt, defecated in one of the trash cans. It was clearly done out of spite, and he couldn’t blame anyone for doing it, yet he wasn’t about to clean it up either. The feces was runny and covered the floor. These cans were intended for the disposal of waste but not this type of waste.

There was little time left, and he figured he’d just use it as an excuse to move onto his next task, which was grooming Rawscow himself. He despised the cat man, but he’d much rather groom him than clean up excrement.

He made his way to the throne room and found Rawscow, but he wasn’t alone. There were of course many Rakahshas on guard duty in the room, but not all of them were on guard duty. As he sat upon the throne while a female Rakahsh vigorously mated with him. The act was disturbing to Alakar, yet he knew he had to stand off to the side of the red carpet until ordered otherwise. He did his best to avert his eyes, for they were burning.

After a while, Rawscow appeared bored, and with sprawled out legs, rested his cheek on his fist.

Rawscow speaks, “Are you done yet? You’re making my butler wait, and I desperately need to be groomed.”

She continued to proceed, yet Rawscow shoved the female off of him. She fell off of the raised throne platform, and then picked up her clothes from the floor. She was clearly upset as she marched down the red carpet. Alakar did his best to stare at a wall and mind his own business, yet she growled into his face and stomped hard on his foot before leaving.

Alakar then hobbles on one foot while holding the other. He grasps his foot in pain, and curses at the Rakahsh in his mind.

Rawscow laughs and says, “Oh wow, she got you pretty good! Now stop playing around and groom me.”

Alakar grits his teeth and complies. The action left his foot sore, yet he doesn’t complain. There is still a certain fear within him, and he wants to avoid the cat man’s wrath for as long as possible. He then approaches the bottom of the platform and stares questionably at Rawsow.

Rawscow shouts, “Don’t just stand there Purps, get up here and give me some chin scratches! You’ll move to the combs afterwards, once I’ve evaluated your ability.”

Alakar grimaced, and ascended the platform. There were many steps and they were made for someone much larger than himself. He couldn’t simply walk up them, he had to use his arms to climb up each step. Once he was at the feet of Rawscow, he climbed up his thrones like a tree, and stood on his thigh. From there he reached for his chin and began to scratch underneath.

Rawscow purrs and says, “Mhmm, yes, like that, but more to the right. Keep going.”

He does his best to scratch the cat man’s chin. With a lot of finger work, he carefully removes the tangled fur, and tries to avoid pulling too hard. But eventually he encounters some matted fur and accidentally tugs.

Rawscow complains, “Hey! No tugging, and work around the matts! Also, if you tell anyone of my matted fur then your death will be a brutal one!”

A solid hour of chin scratching ensued until he was gestured to stop. It was tiring work on his little hands, and felt at ease upon finishing.

Rawscow says, “That’s enough. You’re much better than my last butler, now go get the large comb.”

Alakar was quite observant, and knew where to get the combs, how could he not. Several combs were laid out on a long table at the bottom of the platform. He descended the platform, and quickly retrieved the comb. The largest comb was about half his size and was hand carved from bone. He started combing Rawscow’s legs and worked his way upwards. All was going well, and so far he thought today was fairly degrading, yet manageable in terms of labor.

He pawnders his options of escape while going through the motions, and then the cat man starts to converse with him.

Rawscow asks, “Purps, how did the morning task fair with you? Did you clean up all the cans?”

Alakar says, “I think so… But I ran out of time to clean up the last one. I didn’t want to be late for your afternoon grooming…”

Rawscows growls lowly and says, “You address me as ‘m’lord’ first before speaking. I don’t want to remind you again. And which can was it that you failed to clean up?”

He combes the right side of his chest and says, “Uhh, m’lord, it was the one next to your bedroom.”

Rawscow asks, “And why didn’t you clean it up again?!”

He says, “... M’lord, I ran out of time, and someone had shit in it.”

Rawscow says, “Why yes, that was me who shat in it. Leave now, and go clean it up!”

Alakar feels an inner rage build up inside of his body, and he is no longer able to contain it. The lack of sleep, the horrible conditions, and overall disrespect is too much for him. He hurls the comb across the room, and it breaks in half upon making contact with the wall.

Alakar then jumps off his thigh, points at him, and yells, “I refuse! I am not going to clean up your shit!”

Rawscow smiled and exploded into laughter. His laugh was deep and it filled the room.

Rawscow then says, “Oh you, will soon”, he then snaps his fingers and kicks Alakar off the platform.

*Thud*

Before Alakar could stand up and fight, he had eight Rakahsha on top of him, and he was pinned.

Rawscow says, “Tie him up in the star. I’ve yet to get my exercise in for today.”

Several sets of chains were bolted into the floor and many hung from the ceiling. Earlier, he turned a blind eye to them, but now, they were a part of his reality. He had a shackle locked onto each of his limbs, and was hoisted into the air. The chains and shackles stretched out his limbs taut, in all directions, and he was unable to move. His back faced the throne, and he heard something unravel.

*Crack*

Alakar cried out, “Ahhh! Fuck you!”

Rawscow had striked him with a whip, and it cut into Alakar’s backside.”

Rawscow yells, “It’s ‘m’lord’! Say it!”

*Crack* *Crack*

Alakar screams, “Ahhh! Eat shit cat man!”

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

Alakar screams bloody murder as Rawscow whips him repateadly. Blood pooled onto the floor, yet it didn’t matter. The lacerations on Alakar’s back would heal over in minutes.”

Rawscow huffs and says, “Huh, so those men weren't lying. You are a tough one. I’m going to have a lot of fun with you. Now say it Purps, ‘m’lord’!”

Alakar says, “...Never again.”

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

Alakar’s body heals over and over, yet he passes in and out of consoicesses from the shock. He keeps waking back up to the jolts of a whip.

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

Alakars is barely holding onto his sanity, and he mumbles, “Mercy, please…”

Rawscow states, “There will never be mercy!”

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

*Smack*

He wakes up the next morning in a puddle of chains and his own blood, wondering how he’s still alive.