Chapter 42: 2- No Humping Legs

Because honestly Vethros was the whole reason behind all of this. Vethros had somehow been behind the corruption of the baddies in Densmeer, with its stupid name and its hired assassins. He didn’t know if Vethros was a whispering kind of evil, one of those disembodied voices that commanded their legions while they sat in their tower with a big floaty fiery eye, or if he was a more hands-on sort of evil, with masked Death Cannibals all fearing for their lives. So far Corbin’s experience put Vethros as a Cthulhu thing, an unknowable being outside of time and space and understanding, which sometimes lent its power to mortals for reasons those mortals couldn’t possibly understand. And while it was doing so, drove a lot of people insane… and things got all cyclopean and non-Euclidean.

Probably a Cthulhu, or an Azathoth. Or a Shub-Niggurath. Yeah, the Vethros monster stats would probably slide in nicely among the Hound of Tyndalos and the Yog-Sothoth. 

They needed some solid facts.

Oh, and regarding facts… seriously, why did his brain produce so many names out of HP Lovecraft without fail, yet he still hadn’t produced any memories of his parents, or a girlfriend… or hell, even a boyfriend? It made no sense the way his mind was handling amnesia. He knew a little bit about it, and after several days his memories should’ve been on the mend. And on the romance score, he didn’t have any strong feelings about the ladies he was with, nor had he felt any attraction to Hale, Drell or Rinna, but he had been a raven the entire time… 

“Rule number one,” he muttered to himself. “Remember rule number one. Keep on track. No humping legs.”

Okay, facts…  

The facts he did have were not great: Vethros empowered people with a fourth Core card somehow, and if you thought of Core cards like people’s identities, Vethros was basically stripping out what made them them, and replacing it with something else.

And it was close enough to smell. He growled again… God, it was the eating eyeballs thing all over again.

“What is it, boy?” Prissy asked.

He looked up in amazement and frustration, to find a snarky smile on her face, and worse, a matching one on Kyessy’s face.

“Don’t… do that.”

She grinned. “Watch me.” She settled her hands on her knees. “Who’s a cutey puppy, huh? It’s you! It’s you! You’re the cutesy wootsie puppy wuppy! Loogadat widdle facey wacey. Such a cutie patootie.”

“Die in a fire,” he told her. “And let’s focus. I found something.”

“What is it?” Kyessy asked.

“Oy, I ken be all serious-like, if I wanna.” She furrowed her brow. “Whatsa matter there, pup? What’s yer doggo nose got for us?”

“The stench of an evil god,” he said.

“Yer really ruinin’ the fun here, Corby-me-Corgi.”

Kyessy steamrolled the cutesy puppy treatment and got straight to the point, which he appreciated. “He Who Slumbers?” 

“That’s right. I can smell it.”

They all peered at each other without speaking for a moment. Another moment later and Prissy rolled her eyes, her tail twitching in annoyance.

“Bloody ‘ell, iss up to me, is it? Lead the way, Corby.”

He forced himself not to dart forward and bite her, succeeded the will check the game didn’t force him to make, and turned to follow the scent trail.

The scent trail really was a trail, and it really was like he could see a straight line of corruption by this Vethros thing out of the temple and across the crowded town square area.

A lot of rubberneckers had turned up to see what all the loud magical commotion had been about. A lot of screaming had come out of the temple in the last ten minutes or so, and these people were believers, or at least gave offerings or attended services. In the few days Corbin had lived in this town with Kyesiara, he had got down to some serious people watching, noting all the various races here (and there were many). Barring perhaps the asshole wizards, all of them made trips to the temple at some point. 

It was a large space, especially TARDIS-like in that it was bigger on the inside, and people were always flowing in and out of it. He hadn’t given it too much thought before Serrell the flame-haired warlock tried to make the town magistrate into a Cthulhu finger puppet. The different gods had services during different parts of the day, he assumed. The god of the wilds probably had a thing at midday and midnight, the weird god with the wall-facing followers probably had a thing going on in the dead of night, that sort of thing.

And now all those followers of various different religions were staring at the three of them.

“You’ve got to say something,” he told them. 

His two companions shared a look, basically daring each other to volunteer, and when neither did, Kyessy opened her mouth to speak.

“Right-o,” Prissy interrupted. “She’s all yours.”

“What?”

“Not me town, not me sitch, not me world. I dunno nuffink ‘bout what just happened, hear me?”

“Don’t spook them,” Corbin muttered.

“This is not my responsibility!” Kyessy cried. “I didn’t try to bring He Who Slumbers back to life here!”

Gasps from the nearby townsfolk, followed by a ripple of shocked muttering. “He Who Slumbers? Did she say He Who Slumbers?”

“Nerf me,” Kyessy groaned. “Me and my big mouth.”

A big slab of a dwarf in a rubbery butcher’s apron strode forward, stinking of death. “What happened in there?”

“Well, see, this, uh… the magistrate, he uh…”

“Is he all right?” a concerned woman asked. 

You are reading story UnFamiliar at novel35.com

“Not to worry, folks!” Prissy called out. “Dead as a doornail, he is. He tried to take over the world there fer a sec, but yer girl here shot him through before this Vethros fella could… what?”

“You don’t say the name! It is forbidden!”

“Well ‘ow was I s’posed ta know?” she cried.

Wails of terror and grief now passed through the crowd. 

“Yer magistrate was evil, got it? Fella was try’na put that V-guy into him with a ritual, and this town woulda been the first ta fall! We didja a favor.”

This was not going well. A number of the ladies (and young men) in the crowd were very distraught over this news. Findell was a well-loved figure, apparently. A bunch of others seemed even more upset at the name Vethros being flung around so carelessly. He smelled their fear and animosity towards these newcomers who had upset everything. 

 

The mood of the townsfolk has gone from Neutral to Disgruntled! Keep this up and you’ll find several thousand of them have become Hostile.

Protip: several of them already are Hostile.

 

What the devil? They should be celebrating, he thought. 

“Hey!” he shouted. Barked really. “Your town is safe now.”

“What a strange canidian,” one of the townsfolk said. “Cute though.”

“Is it a boy or a girl, Momma?” a little one asked.

Oh shit, he was naked. And, by the way, there was nothing he could do about it. There was no covering himself, no shouting at them to look elsewhere. 

Being a dog was just the worst.

He danced around trying to think of a way to get his private parts not inspected by hundreds of people in attendance, bucking his legs back and shaking his head. Really the whole thing wasn’t quite under his control; it was all a part of being a freaking dog. 

 

You have succeeded a Charm (Mingle) check! You’ve also succeeded a Luck (Serendipity) check! The nearby townsfolk have been moved from Disgruntled back to Neutral.

 

They chuckled at what they perceived were his antics, and pointed and laughed. It wasn’t something he was used to, but hey, apparently rodeo clown was his new role in the party. The mother informed the little one that Corbin was indeed a boy canidian, to his everlasting shame. He swallowed any protests he might have and just went with it, prancing around in a big circle with his tongue hanging out like a complete fool.

“Here, boy!” the little boy said, hand outstretched, and Corbin couldn’t resist. He ventured over to the boy. 

The boy commenced with the petting, and Corbin forgot all about the stink of Vethros for a little while. Instead he enjoyed a brief bit of heaven.

The butcher man, solidly built gigantic dwarf that he was (and Corbin wondered if he had some human blood in him) visibly relaxed and approached the catgirl and the tiefling.

“You two mind explaining exactly what happened back there?”

“Your magistrate chased off the head priest of your temple,” Kyessy said, “and hired me to kill the man. I was charged with encasing his soul in this box here, to prevent him from returning to life.” She produced a hardwood box, glossy with finish or lacquer, and opened it. The man took a step back, perhaps expecting a ghost to dive out of it and possess him, but nothing happened. 

“I didn’t have to. The priest told me he would abandon claim to the temple if I agreed to put a stop to them. So I returned and put an arrow through Findell’s back.”

Corbin had been introduced to the sublime bliss that was chin scritches. He flopped down onto the cobbles and presented his belly before he could stop himself. 

The butcher winced. “Findell was well liked in Densmeer.”

“You can blame everything on the warlock if you like,” Kyessy offered with a shrug. “She may have been the reason Findell went down the dark path in the first place. We’re on the trail out of here, I’d imagine.”

Tummy rubs followed, and Corbin ratcheted up his bliss-o-meter beyond chin scritches to the new reigning champion. Tummy rubs were just the best. Bar none. This was better than flight.

The whole of the assembled town went from Neutral to Favorable.

The butcher nodded, relief flooding his face. “No offense meant, but the sooner you put this place behind you, the better.”

“Believe me, we have no interest in remaining here a minute longer than is absolutely necessary,” Kyessy said.

Prissy cleared her throat. “Ahem… Corby-me-corgi, you were just leading us to the site of corruption by Mr. Shall-Not-Be-Named, were ya not?”

Oh. Right.

You can find story with these keywords: UnFamiliar, Read UnFamiliar, UnFamiliar novel, UnFamiliar book, UnFamiliar story, UnFamiliar full, UnFamiliar Latest Chapter