Chapter Text
Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham.
Hook. Jab. Uppercut. Hook. I did my best to impose the image of a human body over the worn fabric of my cell's punching bag, imagining where exactly my punches would be landing. Temple. Nose. Jaw. Forehead. Pulling my arm back, I delivered a savage punch to the middle of the bag, imagining the way it gave around my knuckles to be the crushing of organs in someone's gut.
Ordinarily, the bag was just a way for me to relieve stress. Keep in shape, work off excess aggression, stuff like that. But this time was different. This time, I was punching with a purpose. Contrary to what the imperials loved to believe, I was more than just a mindless savage. There was skill in what I did. Finesse. My work was an artform, and pretty soon? The Bloodworks were going to be my canvas. I'd only get one shot at this, though. One chance. If I came up short, there would be no going back.
In truth, these were the moments that I lived for. The moments where it was do or die, life on the line. They set my heart racing like no other. They made me feel alive in a way that nothing else could. Still, I needed to be careful not to lose myself in that feeling, or else I'd become exactly what they all accused me of being. And a mindless savage isn't hard to stick through the gut with a sword.
Images flashed through my mind again, echoes of the dream from a few nights before. My own corpse, splayed out on the ground. Jaws slack, eyes wide, blood seeping into the stone floors.
With a downright feral roar, I drove my fist into the top of the bag as hard as I could. No more restraint, full force. The chains snapped, and the fabric tore, sending the bag flying into the wall of my cell. Satisfied, I exhaled sharply through my nose, before flopping down onto my cot. I gave it a bit before doing anything else, waiting to see if one of the guards would come to investigate the sound. But none did. If my gut was right — and it usually was — it was night time right about now. Guard presence would be sparse, and those who were still awake would be nearing the end of their shift. This was as good of an opening as I was going to get.
I turned quickly to the left, brushing my fingers against the wall in an effort to find the loose stone. Soon enough, I felt the familiar bump, and stopped to dig the points of my claws into the space around it. With a little bit of jiggling, the stone popped free, revealing a tiny space in the wall behind it. When I say tiny, I do mean tiny. You'd be hard pressed to fit anything bigger than a couple coins in here, but fortunately that was all the space I needed. Inside the hollow was an old locket. Heavy, made of a thick steel that had once looked more like silver. I tugged it out gently by the chain, then popped it open, examining the contents within.
A single pressed leaf sat within it, preserved in a thin case of solidified sap. My hand began to feel warm as I held it, a comforting scent like pine filling my nose. If I closed my eyes and really thought, I could almost see home.
Almost.
The idea that my dreams had been a vision from the family tree was hard to believe, truth be told. You'd think it would be an everyday occurrence for someone like me, wouldn't you? Someone whose body has been so heavily altered that sap may as well flow through her veins like blood. But ever since being taken from the marsh, I had struggled to keep my faith. No matter how I came to be the way that I am, I was far from a pious woman. Would the Hist really choose to speak to me now, after so many years of silence? Or was I finally starting to lose it from all my time locked up in this cell?
I couldn't say for sure. But in the end, the message was the same. I had experienced two oddly graphic dreams back to back: one of myself dying here, and one of myself escaping. One of these two things was going to happen pretty soon, and I had to choose which one.
Pretty easy choice, all things considered.
There was one last thing I hadn't figured out, though. One last piece of the puzzle that I was still missing. And that piece was shaped suspiciously like a man that I knew. My stare soon grew blank as I remembered the way he had looked at me — the fear, the lust, but most importantly the conflict. He was firm in his decision, I'm sure of it. Nothing I could have possibly said in that moment would have changed his mind. Still, he seemed so sad. The words had hurt him to say aloud.
He liked me, that much was certain. But how much? If I got out and tried to turn a new leaf, would he care? I remember him mentioning his home village. What was it.... Ale's Well? If I went there, would he be happy to see me? Or would he be angry?
Maybe the better question was whether I'd be able to hide out there. The Empire tended to skimp out on guards when it came to smaller villages and settlements. I've raided more than enough to know. Still, if I escaped they'd probably come looking for me. I'm probably not the highest profile bandit in the area anymore, but I'm also not nobody either. The reputation I had once taken so much pride in could come back to bite me in an instant, and it'd bite hard. If I could scrub my war paint off, comb my feathers, get a nice job, then maybe....
I shook my head, letting out a long and agonized sigh. It wouldn't do to worry about any of that right now. Every question would be pointless if I didn't escape.
Giving the locket one last squeeze, I closed it back up and slipped it over my neck. If my Hist tree really was watching, I wouldn't say no to a little divine intervention right about now. I've broken out of prisons before, but this was going to be one of my trickiest escapes yet.
This is it, Krona. If you mess this up, they'll probably kill you.
Rolling my neck, I strode toward the cell door, ready to put my plan into motion. I gripped the cell door by the bars, shaking it with enough force to send an audible rattling sound echoing down the hallway. With a deep breath, I screamed, blending sounds of pain with slurred curses, punctuated by a wet, hacking cough. After a moment, I did it again. Only then did the sound of footsteps reach me.
Quickly, I leaned against the bars, slumping weakly like I could hardly stand. After another few fake coughs for good measure, a guard finally reached the end of the hallway that my cell was positioned at. His face was a mix of curiosity and contempt, brows raised and eyes dark.
"What's all this racket?" He demanded, hands resting on his hips.
"Ohhh, kaoc'..." I rasped. "That last match... I think the orc had Yellow Tick. I can't breathe!"
The imperial looked me up and down, something flickering on his expression for a second.
"You know what? Good." He finally said. "If the captain were around, I'd have to make up some petty platitudes about wanting to help you. But the truth? The truth is that I think you're scum."
Ah, there it is. Classic Imperial Guard. Not the reaction I was hoping for, but I can work with this. I shifted unsteadily on my feet, one arm against the door to support myself. "W-what?"
"That's right, I said it! Scum. You're filth. The bottom of the barrel, the dregs of society. We don't even keep you in a proper prison cell — you get to live in a pen with the rest of the animals!"
"No, please!" I begged, fighting to keep a laugh from sneaking out. "I need water. Medicine! If you don't help me, I... I might not make it 'til morning!"
The guard simply folded his arms, a smug smile spreading across his lips.
"Oh, well that's just a shame, isn't it? The prisoner died in her sleep, captain. She looked fine that morning! There was nothing any of us could do." He sang, clearly rehearsing more for his own benefit than mine.
Now came the hard part.
I staggered backward, swaying drunkenly and clutching my forehead. "But... the other... Agh, the other prisoners..."
"What?" The guard asked, smug smile suddenly vanishing.
"The breakout... tonight..." I muttered. "Have to... get there.... ugh."
Now it was his turn to press against the bars. "Breakout? What breakout? What are you talking about?"
"Tonight." I repeated hazily. "Has to.... Have to... tonight..."
His gauntlets audibly clinked as he white-knuckled the bars of my cell door.
"Where!? Where is it happening!?"
I mumbled something beneath my breath. Loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to be at all intelligible.
"Answer me, damn you!"
Taking great care to wobble like a graceless oaf, I took a sloppy stop forward, then collapsed against one of the side walls. "C-closer...." I wheezed, beckoning him toward me. "Can't... yell..."
The fear and doubt filling his eyes was delicious. He was panicking, unsure of what to do. No sane guard would open the door to the Bandit Queen's cage without backup. But right now, I didn't look like a Bandit Queen. I was just a poor, sick lizard, dying in a dirty cell like I undoubtedly deserved.
Finally, he made up his mind, whipping out his keyring and opening my cell.
"Quickly!" He half-shouted, rushing forward. "Where is i-"
WHAM
Hook.
My fist collided with the guard's thick iron helmet, the force of it snapping his head to the side. The armor took most of it, leaving my knuckles burning and the guard mostly unharmed, but it had stunned him long enough for me to grab him with my other hand.
Palming his skull like a ball, I roared, heaving him upward and slamming him headfirst into the stone walls of the jail. There was an awful crunch, a sharp jerk of his limbs, and then silence.
Two fingers to the neck confirmed that he was still alive. He'd be out of commission for a pretty long time, but frankly I didn't give a shit. How's that saying go? If you value your fingers, don't poke the Wamasu. Serves him right for gloating.
Laying him on the floor, I quickly stuffed his keyring into one of my pockets, then pulled his sword from its sheath and his shield from his hand. The sword was a bit small, I'd be better off using my fists. The shield, however, I might need. These hallways were tight, not much room to dodge. If I crossed paths with an armed patrol, I'd need a way to keep from getting skewered.
There was a noise from the other cells — some of the animals having been startled by the sound, perhaps. I contemplated letting them out for a moment, then shook my head. A caged wolf doesn't understand that I'm not the one who put it there. They'll just come for me just as easily as the imperials, not worth the risk.
Shield in hand and blood running hot, I stalked down the hallway with practiced ease. My stride was quick, but my steps were light and quiet. One of the benefits of forgoing heavy armor: you didn't clank like a damn kitchen when you walked. Wolves and boars peered at me from within their cells, some trying to posture and some backing away in fear. A quick growl and a lunge got a particularly aggressive wolf to scamper backward, butt flying into the rear wall as it tried to get away from me. The closer I got to the end of the hall, the less the occupants of each cell seemed interested in my presence. The Bloodworks became quieter, forcing me to slow my pace in the absence of sound cover.
Of course, it also allowed me to hear the voices coming from around the corner.
"...You think he's alright?" Someone asked. Male, painfully imperial accent. Definitely another guard.
"Probably just fell asleep." A similar voice responded. "You know him, likes to hit the ale since nothing happens during the night shift."
"Fell asleep where, exactly? I don't think there are any chairs back there."
"Well what do YOU think happened to him, huh?" The second guard asked.
There was a pause, followed by a very forced cough.
"Well, you know, we do keep... her back there."
Another pause.
"What, the lizard?"
"Yeah. What's her name... Ka-Rona?"
They couldn't even remember my name. Rajpu.
"Pft. Don't tell me you think she got him."
"I'm just saying! We heard a bunch of noise, Cyron went back there, and now he's missing. You know that she's broken out of prison before, right? They tried to execute her this one time, so she snapped the cuffs with her arms and went berserk. It was like watching a troll hopped up on skooma."
The thud of their boots and shadows on the wall gave me a bit of insight into how close they were. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. Remembering my earlier practice, I crouched, then cocked my shield arm back in anticipation.
"Uh huh. Tell you what:" One of them began. "If we get back there, and she's broken out of her little cage, you can have half my wages for the next-"
The toe of a metal boot entered my field of view, and without a second thought, I swung. My arm shot forward like the snakes of the marsh, each muscle uncoiled at just the right time. A dull pain lanced through my forearm as the shield met his helmet, a loud CLANG echoing off the stone walls, but it wasn't enough to stop me. I didn't wait to see if it had worked, instantly flowing into a backhand on instinct. It was a quick, uncalculated move, yet strong enough to knock the second guard back and off his feet.
Crouching over him, I slipped the shield off my arm and held it by the edges with both of my hands. A couple quick smashes of its rim into his forehead was enough to make sure my quarry had stopped moving for good. A quick glance over the shoulder revealed that my first target had suffered the same fate — ku-uxith, out like a light.
Just as I was winding down, another set of footsteps rapidly approached, perhaps drawn by the noise. It didn't take long for another guard to round the corner, sword already drawn and shock plain on his face.
"Y-you! Stop right there!" He commanded, pointing his weapon at me defensively. I responded with a snort, standing up and rolling my shoulders.
"You don't want this." I warned. "Put your little toy down, and I might not snap you in half."
He didn't, of course. I hadn't expected him to. But he didn't get any closer to me, either. Seemed like he didn't actually know what to do.
Impatience eventually won out over caution. I didn't run, more so marching at him like an invading army. Each step was slow, heavy, certain, giving me all the time I needed to pick him apart with my eyes. Imperials were tough, but they were also uniform. Predictable. I could see it in the way his feet were spread, the way his sword arm twitched: it was like I had fought the same man a hundred times before. I knew every move he'd make before he did.
Ten steps. Eight steps. Six steps. Four. The second I got close enough, he lashed out with a sideways chop. I used my shield to bat the blow aside, grabbing him by the wrist with my free hand and twisting until he was forced to drop his weapon.
Teeth bared, I raised my shield again to beat him into a pulp. Before I could, though, something stopped me. A question sprang to mind, one this guard might actually be able to answer.
"My axe!" I demanded. "Where is it?"
"Wh- Your axe?"
"Yes, axe. A-X-E, the weapon! WHERE?"
He thought on it for a second, but never gave me an answer. Instead, he decided to aim a desperate punch for my stomach.
I didn't even blink when his fist rebounded off my gut.
With a grunt, I tightened my hold on his wrist and heaved upward. The guard's face went pale as I lifted him off the ground, dangling in the air like a freshly caught fish.
"You're testing my patience." I snarled. "Where. Is. My. AXE?"
It was clear in his eyes, the realization that he was sunk. I could see the gears turning, the acceptance of the inevitable on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in.
"THE PRISONER'S ESCAPED! THE PRISONER'S ESCAPED! ALL HANDS, SOUTH GHK!"
His shouting was cut off by the clash of metal on metal, my shield denting his helmet and likely his skull. Cursing beneath my breath, I tossed him at the nearest wall like a rag-doll, the impact ensuring he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. They had to have heard that, there's no way they didn't. Better move quick, Krona. They'll be on you any minute.
Abandoning all delusions of stealth, I rushed down the hall and toward the wooden door sitting at its end. It was slightly ajar when I got there, likely from the guard I had just pummeled, which meant a quick push was all it took to put me face to face with-
"IT'S THE PRISONER!"
An entire patrol of Imperial Guards. Seizo.
There were three of them in total, and one of me. If I had a bigger space to work with, or the element of surprise, I'd like those odds. Getting swarmed in a hallway like this though was a death sentence.
I slammed the door shut almost as quickly as I had opened it, holding it in place with all my strength. I could feel them trying to pull it open again from the other side, struggling in vain against my weight. They weren't getting past me so long as I held the door, but I couldn't afford to sit here all night. Sooner or later, I'd get tired, and their numbers were only going to grow.
Fortunately for me, there was a chair leaning against the wall nearby, right between the door and the nearest cell. It was too far for me to reach with my arms, forcing me to squat down and snake my tail around the leg to bring it closer. What I was about to attempt was very risky, but I needed to make something happen fast if I wanted to salvage this.
With one hand, I lifted the chair and smashed it against the nearest wall. The cheap wooden thing shattered immediately upon impact, leaving me with only a long piece of wood that used to serve as a leg. Uttering a prayer to the Hist, I slid it into the hole of the door's handle, bracing it against the wall so that the door wouldn't open. Taking a step back, I let go of the handle. And much to my relief, it held. The door rattled a few times as the humans continued trying to open it, foiled by a simple piece of wood. It wouldn't hold them forever — my makeshift bar wasn't nearly thick enough to stop them if they just kept trying. But at the very least, it would buy me some time to think. I needed to find a way to get out of here that wasn't through that door.
I already knew that going backward was a bust, nothing back there unless I felt like trying to tunnel my way out of this stupid place. No sewer grates on the floors, no side passages. Cell door, cell door, cell door, all of the doors were cell doors.... except for one.
Not too far from the chair I had just wrecked was a door unlike the others. It was in roughly the same spot that a cell would be, only instead of iron bars with gaps that you could see between, it was solid and made of oak, like something you'd see in the doorway to someone's mansion. Instead of being lavish and decadent, though, the wood was worn and the metal trim was rusted. It didn't look like it was for decoration, it looked like it was meant to stop someone kicking it down.
Whether the point of the door was to keep someone in or out, I really couldn't say. There could've been anything back there, from an exit to a room full of rabid goblins. But another fierce rattle from the door I had just jammed shut dispelled any misgivings I might've had pretty damn fast. If there was even the tiniest chance of escape through that door, then it was worth the risk.
Fumbling with the tiny ring of keys I had looted earlier, I picked one and stuck it into the lock. A turn to the right told me I had the wrong key, prompting me to curse and pull out another one.
The door behind me rocked again as the imperials continued trying to force it open. At this rate, it sounded like they were ignoring the bar and trying to break the whole thing down. I hastily switched to a second key, shoving it into the lock and twisting. No luck.
On the fourth try, I finally got it, the door unlocking with a satisfying click. As soon as it gave even the tiniest bit, I barreled inside and slammed it behind me, finally stopping to breathe. The guards hadn't gotten through the first door yet, but this was a second layer of defense in the event that they did.
With my nerves a little steadier, I stopped to examine the room I'd just shut myself inside. It was small, more like a tunnel than anything. About as wide as a cell should be, but stretching much farther back than one normally would. There was a single torch on the wall for light, providing just enough visibility for me to see a second door at the opposite end of the room. This one looked much like the first, only with a sliding metal slot at the top. The kind you use to peak into a room without having to go inside.
Yeah, definitely built to keep something in. The question was, what?
With nowhere else to go, I padded down the hall as quietly as I could. Slamming the door had probably given me away already, but for some reason I felt compelled to try and sneak up regardless. And as I got closer, I started to hear noises coming from the other side. Snorting, scraping, rattling chains. With my curiosity only getting stronger by the moment, I sidled up to the slot at the top of the door, and slid it open to peer inside.
There, standing in the middle of the dim cell, was a hulking figure chained in place by its arms and legs. I was already big, bigger than even a high elf or an orc. But this thing filled up so much of the cell that it only barely avoided needing to crouch. It was a brutish mass of muscles and fur, such a dark shade of brown that it almost looked black. Thick hooves pawed at the stone floor, and a pair of bovine horns swept through the air like spears.
It was a minotaur. They had a real, live minotaur in here.
I closed the slot, slumping against the door and snapping my teeth together. That was that, no exit. Behind me, I could hear the faint snapping of wood followed by metal footsteps on the stone floor. Voices muttered from beyond the door, the imperials likely wondering where I'd gone. If I couldn't escape through here, then I had no choice but to face them. Alone. Unarmed. In a tiny, cramped corridor.
Unless...
My eyes drifted toward the cell door again. Earlier, I had thought about letting the other animals out of their cages to run interference for me. They wouldn't have to see me as a friend necessarily, but if I could get them to bolt for the nearest exit and distract the imperials for me, it'd be a win. I decided against it 'cause animals are stupid, and the last thing I need is a mountain lion trying to gnaw my leg off. But a minotaur? They wore clothes (kinda), they swung weapons. I'd heard rumors that they used to be considered people a long, long time ago. They've gotta be smarter than the other beasts locked up in here, right? Smart enough to work with me, at the very least. Sooner or later, the guards would realize there's only one place I could've gone. They'd be ready and waiting for me, that much was inevitable. They wouldn't be ready for a gods damned minotaur, though.
Even I had to admit that what I was about to attempt was profoundly stupid. But it was this, or run headfirst into an ambush. Damned if I did, damned if I didn't.
With a deep breath to steel my nerves, I turned back to the minotaur's cell door and slotted they key from earlier into the hole. With a quick twist and a push, it opened, putting me face to face with the beast. Immediately, it perked up, its dark eyes locking onto me in the dim light of the cell. The bull-man snorted, pawing at the ground with a hoof as I entered.
"Heyyyy, buddy." I crooned, holding up my hands disarmingly. "Easy there, I'm not here to hurt you."
The minotaur didn't seem convinced in the slightest. All I got for my efforts was a harsh, bestial grunt. A grunt that came off as distinctly dismissive, for something that couldn't talk.
"Yeah, I know, I know. If I saw a big ass lizard walking into my cell at night, I wouldn't be happy either. But bear with me here, beeko. You hear that?" I asked, gesturing to the door behind me. The minotaur cocked its head, ears perking up as though it were actually listening. "There's a bunch of imperials out there looking for me, and they're very angry. The same imperials that locked you up in here. You want out, don't you? Help me smash 'em to pieces, and we're both free. Whaddya say?"
All I got was another aggressive snort.
"Oh for the love of- I don't have time for this!" I hissed, backing away from the beast. I paused, pressing an earhole against the door to try and figure out what the guards outside were up to. There was chatter, but it was all too faint for me to make out any solid words. They'd almost certainly figured out I was in here, but something was giving them pause. The minotaur, probably. Were they waiting outside because they expected it to kill me for them?
Teeth grit anxiously, I paced back toward the minotaur. As close as I thought I could get without it being able to lean forward and gut me with those massive horns. It was clearly still agitated, but if anything, it seemed to be getting bored of my presence. Less like it wanted to kill me and more like it just wanted me gone.
"What in Oblivion is your problem!?" I growled, throwing my hands up. "You're a minotaur! A bloodthirsty killing machine! You're supposed to be fighting and thrashing like a rabid animal, not sitting there like some limp-dicked milk drinker! What about this, huh? Keys? You know what keys are?"
I brandished the keyring I had looted earlier, its beady eyes focusing on them briefly. Right when I thought I might've won it over, the minotaur dipped its head, letting out a sound almost like... a sigh.
"No no no, hey! Stay with me! Eyes up here, big guy! C'mon!" I jangled the keys around like I was trying to entertain a hatchling, but this only seemed to make it even less interested in my presence. Eventually, it stopped moving altogether, going almost completely limp with the chains holding it up.
Several emotions bubbled up inside me. Anger, confusion, fear. The plan wasn't working. I had my worst case scenarios narrowed down to the guards barging in and killing me, or the minotaur going berserk the second I tried to unlock its shackles. Instead, the guards were too afraid to come inside, and the bull was too lazy to even object to my presence. It was almost prophetic, how I managed to predict the exact opposite of what was going to happen.
I looked at the minotaur again, desperately fumbling for a solution as fears bubbled up in my chest. Maybe I was onto something, earlier. Minotaurs think like people, right? What's going through this big guy's head right now that's preventing him from being the whirlwind of death he's supposed to be?
Malnourished? No, he looked pretty well fed to me. Sedated? Eh, didn't seem like it when I came in. Sick? Wouldn't matter, a sick minotaur would still try to beat my ass. This didn't look like some kind of physical ailment, it almost looked like... apathy.
And that's when it clicked.
Thirteen years ago, a girl stolen from her home. Carted off to the Imperial City, nothing to her name but some pelts and an axe. Locked up in chains, treated like an animal, only good for one thing.
I wasn't staring at a monster, here. I was staring at myself.
I recognized that apathy in the minotaur's eyes. It was one I'd felt myself all too often, that gnawing feeling that tells you you're never getting out. That you'll spend the rest of your life locked up in this cell, and this hole in the ground is where you'll die. I'd spent who knows how many sleepless nights fighting back against those thoughts, and it was because of this that I knew exactly what to do about my new friend, here.
Cocking an arm back, I decided to double down on my incredibly stupid idea to come in here, and punch the minotaur square in his cow-like snout.
WHAM
The bullman rocked backward on his hooves, chains stretching taut as he tried to clutch his nose. His beady eyes snapped to me again, this time filled with fresh rage. Not even from the pain, I didn't hit him that hard. But from the shock. How dare I, this little lizard in his cell, have the audacity to lay a hand on him?
"You awake now?" I sneered, putting my face a bit closer to his. "Or is still bedtime for sleepy baby boys?"
He snorted, but didn't do much else. Time for round two.
WHAM
"COME ON, BITCHBOY. ARE YOU A MINOTAUR, OR A DAIRY COW?"
WHAM
Suddenly, he lurched forward, the chains making a dangerous straining sound as they narrowly kept him from wrapping his hands around my throat. I knew this was coming. In fact, I wanted it. So I didn't move, didn't flinch. Just stared him in the eye as he struggled against his restraints.
"Ooohh, so close!" I mocked, putting my hands on my knees. "Almost got me that time! Too bad you're nothing but an imperial pet, or else I might actually be in trouble!"
The minotaur grunted, hooves drawing rough lines on the floor once again. He geared up like he was about to charge, flat teeth grit and meaty fists clenched. But the chains kept his arms from getting too close, all he could do was breathe angrily in my face.
Now, if I got just a little bit closer, he'd be able to headbutt me. Not perfectly, but enough to knock your average person on their ass, no question.
And for my third stupid idea of the night, I was going to let him.
Head trauma was no joke, I'd gleaned as much from talking to my towel boy. One good blow to the head could do more than just knock a person out, it could mess their head up for life if it didn't just kill them outright. For most people, getting headbutted by a minotaur would be a death sentence. But me? I was made for this. The Hist made me this way specifically so I could fight. My scales were designed to deflect blades, my bones were made to withstand a warhammer.
Minotaurs liked to headbutt, right? I'd seen them feud by locking horns and butting each other a couple times. If I could meet this guy on his level, butt heads with him like another 'taur would, maybe he'd respect me. Understand that I'm strong. That makes sense, right? 'Course it does, it has to.
Taking a deep breath, I took two steps forward, well into the danger zone.
"Alright buddy, let me have i-"
WHAM
Pain. Sweet mother of Sithis, PAIN. One moment, I was staring the bull man in the face. The next, it felt like I'd been dunked in a pit of boiling tar. My vision went black, my body stopped working. The world around me sank into an inky black void, threatening to carry me off my feet.
But deep within that void was a light, a fire. The burning rage inside me, the will to survive. It flowed through my muscles like sap through a tree, supernatural strength keeping me from falling. Eyes open but unseeing, I roared, whipping my head forward with everything I had.
"YooOUUU SON OF A-"
CRUNCH
A loud, agonized moo filled the room, bouncing painfully off the tiny stone walls that enclosed us. Slowly, my vision began to return, fading in like a wamasu emerging from the water. The minotaur was bleeding, a thin stream of blood trickling from its right nostril. I quick pat on the forehead confirmed I was bleeding too, my hand coming back stained with drops of blood.
Lungs heaving, I glared at the bullman, bearing my sharp teeth in a snarl. He held my gaze, clearly not afraid, but something about his body language seemed different. Calmer, yet so much more alive.
A long, broad tongue flicked outward, the minotaur lapping a bit of the blood off of his snout. He tasted it, head tilted, then locked eyes with me.
"Maaha." He grumbled, voice so low I could feel it in my bones. "Aurh mahto ahm fissa."
My posture deflated in an instant, jaws going slack and arms hanging limply at my sides.
"YOU CAN TALK!?"
"Muhr."
You've gotta be kidding me. "This whole time!? Why didn't you say something!?"
The minotaur tilted his head at me, not seeming to understand the question. Right, he probably doesn't speak Cyrodiilic.
"Alright, forget it. Getting distracted here." Hesitantly, I pulled the keys from my pocket again, holding them up for him to see. "You gonna try and kill me if I let you go?"
I wasn't expecting a verbal answer this time, but the look in his eyes was all I needed. No malice, no bloodlust. But something almost akin to hope. Maybe even respect.
Maybe almost getting my head split open wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Cracking my neck, and struggling to ignore the throbbing in my skull, I crept a bit close to reach for the shackles. The minotaur didn't stop me, simply watching with wide, wary eyes as I gently unlocked the manacles holding his arms and neck in place. Once they were free, I stepped back, watching for any sudden movements as the bull started to stretch. With a deep, shuddering breath, he stood up, somehow taking up even more space than he did before. Looking down at me, he snorted again, and then turned his eyes toward the door.
"Ma... mahooma?" He asked, seemingly unsure of himself.
"Don't know what that means, but if it means violence, the answer is yes." I punched a fist into my palm to demonstrate, and after a moment, he nodded, mimicking the gesture.
"Mahooma."
"Sure. Mahooma, big guy." I parroted, opening the cell door behind me. "Now let's go."
Any attempts at stealth on my part were immediately foiled by the big hunk of beef stomping along behind me. I probably should've known that would happen, but ah well. I prefer to go loud anyway. When we reached the exit door, I held a hand out behind me, and the minotaur seemed to understand. He stopped, giving me just enough quiet to listen to the imperial voices outside.
"Those sounded like footsteps to me." One spoke. "BIG footsteps. You don't think...?"
"You're crazy. There's no way in Oblivion she managed to tame that thing. She's a barbarian, not a Druid of Galen."
"Then how come it's so quiet? There was a bit of scuffling, yeah, but we would've heard screams if either of them had died."
"Maybe it crushed her skull like a grape." One of them suggested.
"Ha. Wouldn't that be nice?"
More than a little eager to rain on their parade, I decided now was the best time to make my entrance. Carefully, I opened the door, sticking just my head out of the gap with the rest of my body behind it for cover.
"Ruheeva, beekos!" I greeted them, reveling in the way all four of them jumped. "Say, you guys wanna meet my new friend? He doesn't speak much, but there's this one word he really likes!"
Stepping back a bit, I kicked the door open with my foot, and gestured toward the four stunned imperials in the hall.
"MAHOOMA!" I shouted.
"MAHOOMAAAA!"
It was like watching someone be struck by lightning. There was no minotaur, only a blur of motion that charged through the doorway, taking the nearest guard off his feet and into the opposite wall. His body hit the stone with a loud crunch, metal and bone alike buckling as he was flattened by the minotaur's thick skull.
I couldn't afford to waste time being awed. Shaking the shock off, I seized the opportunity to bash the next closest guard with my shield, cuffing him right in the temple. He didn't go down immediately, needing another few hard blows before his legs finally gave out. When I turned to look at the other two, the minotaur was already on them. He raised a leg, kicking one in the chest with a sound like cracking thunder. The guard went flying, and I mean absolutely sailing through the air, only touching the ground when he had reached the other end of the hallway. The man next to him was frozen in fear, so focused on what had just happened to his comrade that he didn't see the furry fist coming down on his head. One solid konk on the noggin, and he was down.
"Hist preserve me." I muttered, resting my hands on my hips. "Minotaurs are amazing! Gods, I could've used you back at the fort!"
He still couldn't understand a word I was saying, but the big lug understood my tone well enough, judging by the short nod he gave me. Dusting off his hands, he crouched down to examine one of the fallen soldiers. He picked up their sword and shield like they were silverware, turning them over in his oversized fingers, but ultimately tossed them aside with a dismissive snort.
Me too, big guy. Me too.
"Come on, this way." I said. He plodded over as I approached the once barred door, the snapped remains of a chair leg lying discarded in front of it. Fortunately, there were no guards waiting behind it this time. Doing the math in my head, we'd taken out a grand total of 8 together. There were definitely more down here, but probably not nearby. For now, at least, we were clear.
As I started to walk forward though, something unexpected happened. A fuzzy hand touched my shoulder, the minotaur gently but firmly pushing me out of the way like I was a bystander in a crowd. He took a few steps forward, looked around as though he could see through walls, then nodded to himself, suddenly beginning to stride forward like he knew exactly where he was going.
"Hey hold up!" I called, jogging up after him. "Where are you off to, huh? You know your way around this place?"
"Ma haan." He grunted, not bothering to look at me.
"Ma what? What's that mean?"
"Ma haan." He repeated a little louder, only now deigning to make eye contact with me. He squinted, bovine tail flicking behind him, then raised his hands. One, he held flat, palm up. The other, he balled into a fist, slamming the bottom of it into his open palm with a soft clap.
"Haan. Ma haan. O mahooma."
'Haan.' Slamming. If I had to guess, 'mahooma' means "fight", or "battle" maybe...
"Hammer?" I asked, demonstrating a swing as though I were holding one.
"Muhr!" He blurted excitedly, pointing at me with his ears perked up. "Ma haan... hah-mehr."
A hammer, he was looking for a hammer. And not just any hammer, if I had to guess. Based on the way he was walking, getting his hands on it was a matter of life or death. Did he have a weapon with sentimental value, too?
"And you know where your hammer's being kept?"
This time he didn't reply. Right, looks like I wouldn't be able to communicate anything that couldn't be mimed out with my hands.
For now, I'd just have to trust him. I know I'd memorized a few of the tunnels in this damned place, but not all of them. Maybe he knew something that I didn't.
I followed silently down the eerie stone halls, surprised by just how fast he was for his size. Normally, people struggled to keep up with me while walking. Now it was the other way around. When we reached a fork in the paths, he stopped, sniffed, and then started decisively down the left hand path. Soon enough, we reached another old wooden door. The big oaf didn't even bother trying to open it, instead leaning back and kicking the thing open with one giant hoof. Inside was a locked cell, a couple empty chairs, and two very confused looking imperials.
"By the nine divines, it's the—"
WHAM
I hurled my shield full force, catching the leftmost guard in the face. The minotaur charged the right one without hesitation, crushing him against the iron bars of the cell, then tossing the body at its comrade and knocking him to the ground. Hurrying in behind him, I delivered a quick stomp to the first guard's head. Not hard enough to crush it, just hard enough that he wouldn't be getting back up any time soon.
"Huh. We make a pretty good team, big guy. Haven't synced up with someone like that since Ilyani."
This time, he ignored me, eyes focused on the jail cell the two had been guarding. Instead of a person, it housed a treasure trove of weapons. Spears, swords, hammers and axes were lined up from wall to wall, some hanging from racks and others simply leaning against the stone.
It took me less than a second to make eye contact with my axe.
There she was, in all her chipped glory. Hanging from a rack near the center of the cell was a large, two-headed battleaxe. At the center of the head was the faded insignia of the Empire, and along the blades were a few scratchy engravings in Jel. An axe that size wasn't meant to be used in combat — it was meant to quickly kill someone that couldn't fight back. Chop the head off in one clean blow, and look absolutely terrifying while doing it.
But in my hands, it was a tool. The paintbrush with which I made my art. And pretty soon, she'd be all mine again.
"Hang on, ol' girl." I muttered, fishing through my pockets for the keys. "Momma K's comin'."
The minotaur seemed to have a similar reaction, his eyes locking onto a weapon through the bars. He reached for the cell door, wrapping his hands around bars and pulling with all his might. But much to both our surprises, the bars refused to budge. He let out a surprised and frustrated moo, adjusting his grip and trying again. I could see the muscles in his arms and back flexing, biceps twitching as he struggled to pry the metal open. But even the strength of a minotaur wasn't enough to brute force it.
"Xuth. What'd they do, enchant the bars?"
The sound of my voice seemed to remind him that I existed, the shaggy beast turning to look at me with wide, desperate eyes. All at once, his expression turned pleading, as though he were begging me to help him get through the infernal door. I couldn't help but stifle a chuckle, gently pushing him out of the way. I wasn't strong enough to shove him, of course, but he got the idea and made way pretty fast. After a few tries, I found the right key, sliding it into the lock and clicking the door open. As soon as I did, he barreled inside, nearly knocking me on my ass in his haste to grab his weapon.
Biting back a curse, I watched in confusion, then awe as he hefted up a warhammer the size of a person, so large and heavy that even I would struggle to wield it. It had a leatherbound haft, and a blocky rectangular head made of dark, black metal. It was worn and visibly damaged in a few places, but in spite of that, I had no doubts it would crush anyone unlucky enough to get hit by it. The minotaur lifted it with one hand, spinning it around to assess its condition, then snorted happily, clutching it to his chest like it was his newborn child.
"Ma haan." He rumbled happily, bovine ears flickering with excitement. Once I was sure I wouldn't be trampled, I followed him inside, plucking my own axe from its resting place not too far away.
"Gah, you're making me look bad!" I complained, stroking the head of my axe with one hand. "I treat you right, don't I girl? I oughta give you a name, you deserve a name after all we've been through."
As far as I was concerned, this axe was my best friend in the whole world. She didn't ask questions, and she didn't ever judge. If I needed help, she was there. She'd earned me food on more than one occasion, and saved my life countless times. A warrior's title would be fitting, something in the mother tongue...
That was a thought for later, though. Right now, just holding her was enough for me. The fear I had been pretending didn't exist slowly began to melt, like a weight lifting off my shoulders. I wasn't free yet, far from it. But with my axe back, I was more than a match for your average imperial guard. And that was without the minotaur at my side.
The thought alone was enough to get me excited, fingers twitching with the urge to spill some blood for all the time I'd spent trapped here. And as though I was being given a gift by Sithis himself, the Bloodworks saw fit to oblige my request. The sound of boots hit me like a war drum, drawing my attention to the door of the room. Both the minotaur and I filed out of the cell as a fresh squad of guards poured into the hall beyond. There were six of them that I could see, and probably more on the way. I had said before that tight spaces would work against me, but now? Now, they'd work in my favor. I had more reach than any of those soldiers, and they'd be hard pressed to block me with their tiny little shields. That went doubly so for the angry bull man currently scraping his hoof across the floor.
The tiniest of smiles reached my lips, the change already beginning to spread through my body. I felt like a fish being thrown into a pool of water, like a bird finally allowed to fly. If this is what the Hist wanted me to do, then who was I to deny them?
"You ready, big guy?" I asked, turning to my new partner in crime. Without looking at me, he nodded, dropping into a fighting stance to match my own.
"Mahooma!" He grunted.
"Oh, you've got no idea."
______________________________
___________
Rubbing his eyes, a human man stumbled blearily from his room in the inn. For the past few nights, his sleep had been restless, plagued by strange, nonsensical dreams. As he sat down at the bar counter, wondering what he would eat for breakfast, the door to the inn flew open. A panicked-looking Breton man rushed in, a small mountain of papers held in his arms.
"Have you heard the news!?" He demanded, thumping them down on the counter. The innkeep looked at him with bewilderment, picking up one of the fliers and scanning it with scrunched brows. It was impossible to miss the way his face went pale.
Curiosity piqued, the still groggy patron grabbed a paper from the top of the stack, blinking his eyes a few times to make the words clearer.
THE BLACK HORSE COURIER
(Special Edition!)
BLOODWORKS BANDIT BREAKOUT
Late last night, there was a disturbance in the Imperial City's Arena district. Eye witnesses described seeing two hulking figures fleeing the Arena, pursued by a long line of guards. One was said to have large, bull-like horns, which would fit one of the minotaurs the Arena keeps for sport. The other, however, was smaller, and said to look more reptilian in nature.
Though reports are inconclusive, and the Imperial Watch has refused to comment, some have begun to speculate that the second escapee was none other than Krona-Kai, the once infamous Argonian bandit lord. Local beggars at the waterfront district claim that..
Slowly, his eyes began to glaze over. But he wasn't falling asleep anymore. No, now he was wide awake. The page fell from his fingers, gently fluttering onto the counter before him.
"You cannot be serious."