Wild Wastes 5 -CH11- (Patreon)

Zathira had lowered herself down considerably. Nearly laying down on her own coils in fact, but she’d managed to put herself at a similar level to Vince’s.

The intelligent Lamia had apparently realized he’d been doing this to help alleviate the Ratkin’s inborn wary nature. Vince could only be thankful for those surrounding him had a bright mind.

A number of Ratkin had scurried this way and that just after Vince had spoken.

None of them had approached him, but he could hear them. They were speaking in their own language in the shadows. In the hidden places that he couldn’t quite see into.

Wish I could speak their language.

It’d be helpful to be able to speak it.

Though… uh… now that I think about it, when did I learn Draconic?

I couldn’t speak it before we went to Spain, but I could by the time we opened the gateway. Was it… because I opened myself up as an altar to Ferris? That could be it I imagine.

In hosting a goddess of Dragons I somehow now understand their language?

Do Dryads have a language? Will I understand theirs if they speak it?

Oh, better yet, will I actually understand the Elves once Yaris becomes a full goddess? That’d be interesting. They have some problems communicating at times since their different versions of their own language can get in their way.

“What deal?” asked a nervous voice with an edge of anger to it. Vince didn’t miss that they let out a small cluck as well. He’d only ever heard that from Ratkin who weren’t very happy with their situation. “Who you to come to where none do. What deal for Ratkin?”

“One that I think will benefit both of us,” Vince murmured, his head turning toward where the speaker was. He’d been able to pinpoint them easily enough. “Are you teh warren master? If you are, I’d be happy to discuss it with you.

“If you’re not… I’d prefer to wait for them. You’re welcome to remain to hear my deal of course. I’m well aware that all Ratkin are involved in decisions like the one I’m going to propose.”

A Ratkin moved out from back behind a partially crumpled metal bucket.

Larger than what Vince was expecting, they had a solid and firm looking physique. They were without clothes and truly did resemble a large rat.

Stepping forward on two legs it trundled out to stand before Vince.

“I’m warren master. I’m Bas. What is your deal?” asked the Ratkin, staring at Vince completely. There was no shifting of his eyes, body posture, or direction of his gaze.

From previous experience, that meant Bas was interested.

Given the way his ears were drooping rather low, his fur a bit dirty, and his over-all posture careful, he was also very unhappy. With the situation his people were in, his own life, or something else, Vince had no idea.

But he could guess.

“Help me get to the south. To Spain,” Vince stated clearly. “I’m the ruler there. The leader that is taking over. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors. I’m Vincent Campbell and I’m the lord of those lands.

“I’m taking it from the Francoist government and eliminating them completely at every opportunity. I’ve been attempting to find Ratkin in the lands, but it seems the government there wiped them all out.

“Even the populations that weren’t in cities were exterminated. I can’t find any at all.

“I want your entire colony to come south with me. I want anyone you can bring with you, in fact. I’m going to have a great many cities that will need Ratkin.”

Bas’ ears had slowly lifted up, as well as his tail. Neither went to a full upright position which would give off the feeling of being anxious.

“What you need Ratkin for in city?” asked Bas, his paws gently smoothing down the fur at his stomach and chest. Running over them several times.

“As citizens. As citizens I’d want them for guard duty, scouting in the army, police-work, or janitorial duties. Ratkin are excellent at getting rid of unwanted pests as well as things,” explained Vince. “My cities, my people, leave out objects they don’t want. The Ratkin collect it all, keep what they want, get rid of what they don’t.

“Before you ask, because I’ve had this conversation with other Ratkin, yes, police-work, army, and guard duties. I often employ Ratkin as a form of mounted troops. They work with Beastkin and take the field with them.”

The self grooming the impressive Ratkin had been doing stopped as Vince said “citizens”. He was staring hard at Vince now.

In fact Vince was certain he could feel the gazes of many Ratkin all on him. Watching him. As if they could peer through him to see if his words held truth.

There was a soft pop of what sounded similar to the lid of a soup can opening. There was several soft puffs as a Ratkin shuffled out of the darkness toward Vince.

Upon their head was a skull that’d come from a bird of some type and across their gray-furred chest were a number of canines. There was a troubled gait to the rat that spoke of an injury that hadn’t healed.

In one paw was a cane that they were leaning on that was likely carved out of a metal rod of some sort with some effort.

“What can you give us that would assure us of this? Your words are words. They could be filled with promise or lies. We’d never know till we went,” groused the shaman-like Ratkin. There was a quality to the voice that felt as if it were dried paper. That you could poke through it if you just tried. An old voice. “There are many who wouldn’t survive such a trip if it had to be made in haste as well. You sound as if you must be gone from this city immediately.”

Vince thought on that, chewing at his thoughts before an idea popped up into his head.

“I’m the Lord of Dragons, as well as the Lord of Dryads and Elves. I can give you the Dragon-word of at least eighty Dragons, as well as the Dragon Goddess Ferris as my bond,” Vince offered. Then he stuck out his left hand with his palm face up. He pushed magic through his arm and to exit through his hand. He wanted to display to them that he was unwelcome here.

Magic began to boil and bubble up from his skin and slide free in a ray from his hand. It wasn’t moving fast or in large volumes, but it was apparent and obvious that this wasn’t something that the Tribunal would very much like.

“That and I’m not exactly someone who tends to be on the right side of the law here or in Spain,” murmured Vince. “My magic usage is terrible, but I can use some. I’m only a Demi-God but… I do have my own portfolio of sorts that I can lean on.

“I’m also married to three goddesses, as I mentioned. A goddess of Dragons, a goddess of Dryads, and a goddess of Elves.”

The Ratkin sporting a skull moved up to Vince’s hand and peered into it. They didn’t seem to be looking at the magic but his hand itself.

“I’ve been the ground-talker for many years. This is a harm that speaks of it’s story. A harm that demands to be spoken of and has been spoken of,” deemed the Ratkin, looking to the stump of the lower part of his hand. “A loss of one’s self, given in the defense of another, who had defended you.

“This is a good wound. A good harm. A good story.”

Lifting a clawed paw the shaman was now patting the scar tissue.

“Well, there’s one more thing I can offer as proof, too,” murmured Vince then turned his left hand over so that his magic began washing over the shaman.

I’m a god, right? I’m married to three goddesses. I should have the ability to bestow blessings.

“I bless you in my name, Vincent Campbell, and on behalf of my pantheon. I bless you with health, vitality, and life,” stated Vince and pushed a bit harder on the magic that was a part of him. His grove filled with Dryad seeds and Dragon horns as well as the remains of two goddesses.

There was a flicker of light from his hand, followed by a nearly blinding flash afterward.

Collapsing backward the shaman landed on there rear end and stared ahead blankly.

Ratkin began rushing forward toward him and their elder.

“I’m fine,” growled the shaman in a voice that was much firmer. One that didn’t sound nearly as raspy as it had been. In fact, it sounded quite similar to Bas’. “I’m… I’m fine. More so than I should be.”

Getting to their feet the shaman left the cane on the ground where they’d fallen.

Their fur was no longer an iron gray, but a deep black glossy color with a sheen to it that spoke of health.

“I am well. In fact I’d say that I’m now once again in my youth and prime,” the shaman said, turning their skull covered head toward Vince. “An interesting way to show your good faith but I’d say… we’ve received your earnest words and understand. This old woman is certainly no longer old.

“We know of a way to move across the borders without being seen by those who would want to kill us. We used it often to bring our kind north, out of… out of where you wish us to go.”

“Given that I’m the ruler of the land, I guarantee you that you won’t have any issues with anyone who is part of my realm,” promised Vince. “You’ll find that if anything you might be more in demand than I’ve said.

“So… can you get my Necromancer and I through? That’d be my request. If you can meet it, I’ll grant you the Ratkin colony rights to any of my cities in Spain.”

“Any city?” asked the shaman, slowly bouncing up an ddown where she stood. Vince couldn’t tell if she was excited or testing the limits of herself.

If he’d just done to her, what Ryker had done to Berenga, he imagined what it must be like. Then his mind tripped to another thought after having considered his Fes.

“Any city. There’s several at this time, but I do plan on taking the whole of Spain. There are three that I’d reccomend personally. Fort Legion, Coruna, or Billbao. Those are the most significant Yosemite cities at this time.

“Also… do you have a husband? A mate? I’d be more than willing to give them my blessing as well,” offered Vince. He wouldn’t want to separate a married couple if they’d moved through old age together.

“Ah… no. He was killed by this,” said the shaman, pointing to the canine necklace. “So I killed it, then fed it to our children,” murmured the shaman, coming to a stop and then running her paws across her snout and whiskers. “I am Atis, I would have you bless a few others who would not make the journey otherwise. We shall prepare and be ready to leave tonight, otherwise.

“There is one unfortunate location where you will likely have to fight for us. This is based entirely on how it used to be. If there are more soldiers there… it will be much harder.”

“Well… good thing I am what I am,” Vince growled with a smile. “On top of that, if it’s at the border… I imagine my people are lurking nearby and could help. Especially a feisty Orange who is probably beating herself up for not being there for me.”

“Then… we shall prepare,” declared Atis, then looked to Bas. “Grandson, pack everything up. Supplies only, no belongings that’d slow us down.”

Bas nodded his head quickly while bouncing up and down. Their was no hiding how pleased the large Ratkin was.

“Anything you leave behind that you need when we arrive, I’ll replace personally,” promised Vince. “Starting with a neighborhood at the top of whatever ruling body of the city you choose. Or if you want to build it yourself, I’ll get all the materials.”

***

Vince felt like he’d perhaps misunderstood at some level, but then he realized he hadn’t. This was exactly as Atis had stated.

This was the old border between Francoist Spain and Francia.

In front of them was a large fort that was bristling with soldiers who didn’t look to be in a hurry, or even concerned. They in fact looked to be resting, relaxing, and trying to recover.

The large medical encampment outside of the castle was another massive and glaring clue that this garrison wasn’t expecting active duty. This was a fall back point for the actual front that was the Pyrenese mountain wall that his people were defending.

These people were likely all of those who had been there recently, or would soon be heading that way. A stop-over point to re-arm, re-supply, and place casualties.

“We go through there,” stated Atis who was latched to Vince’s back plate. The Ratkin had made a leather seat for herself that she’d pushed through small gaps in the armor so it sat on his spine. It didn’t get in his way, nor did it seem to jostle her around much. “Do you see the way it rolls to the left? That’s a culvert that they think is long closed over. We rotted it away by peeing on it for many months. Using small bits of metal to scrape away and do it again.”

“An amazing endeavor. It isn’t easy to get through a lot of those,” congratulated Vince. He’d had to hack through one with Taylor once and could relate to what they likely went through.

“Not so great. The soldiers helped without knowin git. Their waste goes into it,” snickered Atis.

“By the way, what kind of magic do you use?” asked Vince who started forward again.

Crawling.

Bas was moving ahead at a slow trot on all fours after asking that Vince keep himself as low as possible. He didn’t see any reason to disagree with the Ratkin.

“I don’t know. I just use it,” Atis answered with a grunt. “Nullifier’s ignore us, me, so I’ve never had to be concerned about it.”

“I’ll have Elysia take a peek if you don’t mind. High-Elf high-priestess to the goddess Yaris. Also my wife,” Vince admitted with a chuckle.

“You have many wives. Are you repopulation your homeland by yourself?” asked Atis with some incredulity.

“Uh… maybe? Probably. Going to be a few genetic bottlenecks I’m going to have to be on the watch for. Especially Dragons,” muttered Vince. “Need to talk to Ferris about that when I get back, probably.”

“I can help, if you want. Ratkin breed quickly, but much of our kind was slain. We have to be aware of kin when breeding. We call them Bloodsounders,” offered Atis.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll take you up on that. Especially for my Dryads. No idea who’s related to who on that side,” mumbled Vince. Then went silent as Bas paused.

The big Ratkin turned his head then held up a pawn in front of it’s snout.

Vince assumed he was asking him to be silent, or to smell.

Since there was nothing outside of the smell of fecal matter Vince could pick up, he assumed he wanted him to be silent.

Bas moved forward again and led them into an odd rock outcropping. When Vince looked at it, it felt strange, as if it’d collapsed into itself.

Leading Vince straight to it as if it were their goal.

Moving up a boulder, then down the other side, Bas went out of sight.

When Vince did the same, he found himself looking into a three foot wide hole under another giant rock. Bas was disappearing into it and Atis was unsurprised by where they were going.

After entering the crevice, Vince glanced behind himself to see Zathira enter it with more ease than he did. She gave him a warm and wide smile and her eyes began to reflect the light back as her face fell into darkness.

The stink immediately overwhelmed Vince and drowned out his thoughts even. Urine, feces, and the smell of death was beyond description.

Pushing ahead he remained right behind Bas.

Ahead, Vince could see light coming in. Despite that, it was still quite dark and densely so.

A slight turn had made it hard to see where that light’s source and it wasn’t until Vince passed it that he could see the end. He hadn’t realized it but they’d been moving through the tunnel much quicker than they had above ground. Bas had practically been sprinting and had clearly not cared at all if anyone heard him.

Reaching the light and the exit of the culvert, Vince felt his heart drop out from his chest. Their plan hadn’t counted on this, and it wouldn’t have been known unless one could have been above the area.

He could clearly see through the mesh that covered the culvert; as well as the fact that it was only gently resting in place rather than actually attached.

Beyond the exit and in the area that was below the castle was a newly found problem. One that they hadn’t counted on at all.

A military camp.

One that they hadn’t been able to see from where they’d entered and scouted from given the way it was laid out. For the same reason that Atis and Bas used it to get their kind out of Spain, was why they hadn’t been able to see the camp from above.

The way the land rolled hid it completely from where they’d scouted from.

While the sludge and muck would exit and run off down a series of rocks before going into a marsh area, the path to the south was a field with a good bit of foliage on it. Enough to hide and move through during the night.

If the soldiers weren’t there.

Zathira moved up next to him and peered out at the same thing he did.

“I’ll call the dead. Use them to get everyone to look here, rather than south where we’ll be moving through,” she offered and then looked to him. They were only a foot or so apart given the confines of the space. “We can use them to cause a ruckus and go from there. They shouldn’t even realize what’s happening, though… I’ll have to be on the ground down there to cast my spell-work.

“It’s too enclosed in here for me to make it work. I need enough space to stand up at the minimum. You should remain here in case they spot me. If they have a Nullifier they’ll likely be able to track it back to me.

“I won’t begin till nightfall so it should be minimal but it’s still a possibility.”

“Ha, fat chance of that,” rumbled Vince with a chuckle. “As if I’d let you do that. You know damn well I’ll be standing next to you to make sure you don’t die.

“That and I really don’t want to sit here and absorb this stink. It’s going to get into the crevices of my armor and take months to air out if I stay in here even a minute longer.”

“The Duke did warn me you were a snake charmer,” accused Zathira with a warm laugh, her eyes slowly losing the flickering reflective quality to them. They were starting to close over into the abyssal black he’d come to expect from her when she was dipping into her power.

He imagined she was pushing out to the surrounding areas to see what was going on. What was truly available to her and what she could use or utilize.

“I thought you were supposed to charm my snake?” Vince asked with a smirk. “Though uh… those eyes kinda do it for me.”

“Are you two flirting? In a sewer amongst piss and shit?” asked Atis in a scandalized voice. “You’re both terrible. We’re in a disgusting pipe filled with filth. Do you not have any awareness?

“Though, I’ll admit I’m curious to see how a human would mount a Lamia. It sounds complicated and somewhat… unlikely.”

With a snort, Vince moved ahead and pushed the grate out of the way but held onto it.

Slipping free he landed a short distance below amongst slime and excrement covered rocks. Moving forward several steps he made it to grass that didn’t look as disgusting.

Dropping the cover to one side, he got down in a crouch, unholstered his pistol, and got ready. If they didn’t notice them, that’d be great.

If they did… well… Vince would just make more bodies for Zathira to work with.

A win win situation, really.

Time to… get to work, I suppose.