Shanty and Aggression

Slowly and carefully the Golem crept along the ravine bottom, flare-bow in hand, while hugging the wall and checking around every corner.

They were well aware their body wasn't built for stealth, and that by nature, their figure was very recognisable to a great many humans.

It was for that reason they had to be so careful.

Eventually, the scaffolding and human intervention began to fall away, signifying that they were entering an area that hadn't been mined, and Wanderer figured they could move a little faster to get to where the people actually were.

Despite the presence of slavery and the cruelty of Orsha, Wanderer was still fascinated with human society and in truth regretted their small stay within the city as they only got to see a tiny fraction of what life was like for the humans.

Not that there was much to be done about it, without the pretence of a costume, there was no way they would be able to get into any city, especially now they were being hunted.

“I wonder how the rebels are doing, did they make it out?” Wanderer thought.

The Golem had put themself in a lot of danger for those people, and they wished from the bottom of their soul that it hadn't all been for nothing, that right now they were all okay and somewhere far away from the Earliag.

Without thinking, the Vessel kicked a stone at their feet as they were walking and watched it bounce off a nearby wall, making a satisfying plink as it did so.

A moment later, a young voice rose from around a corner, questioning no one in particular.

“Orshkro?” it asked.

Wanderer froze and slammed themself as close as they could to a nearby protrusion, hoping that the person would forget about the noise.

To their luck, they did, as the Vessel heard no sounds of pursual or even protracted interest.

They stayed hidden for a long while, until, with the sound of water being drawn, the person began to walk away.

Resolving to see who had called to them, Wanderer summoned all their stealth and poked their head around the corner.

Their caller was a young boy, though the Vessel was not skilled enough in human physiology to determine their age, carrying a pail of water which he had just fetched from a nearby pool.

Instantly, the Golem thought of the two child slaves they had encountered in a canyon just like this one, in a situation nearly identical to their current.

In that very instant, Wanderer nearly jumped from their spot and ran to the lad, eager to protect him.

But they didn't, and had a number of reasons why.

First was the outcome of the last time they had tried such a thing, something that had resulted in nothing but confusion and pain from all involved as the children were unwilling, or unable to leave their bondage.

Second was that there was no slaver to protect from, the boy was completely alone.

Last, and perhaps most of all, the boy looked fundamentally different from the slaves he had seen last time.

Where the slaves were thin and covered with rags, the child in front of them now was healthy, with a smile on his face and fat on his cheeks.

His clothes were modest but tough and showed signs of loving repair, and even a fun little embroidery on the back of a child defeating a monster.

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The Vessel was almost certain, this child was not being abused like those they had seen so long ago.

And that interested them greatly.

“If this child is doing the same work as the others and is happy doing so, why did the others have to be beaten into it, why the cruelty?”

The Golem didn't know, but they were determined to find out.

So slowly and carefully, they crept along behind the boy, careful to keep distance and stay out of sight while remaining in tracking range.

As they followed along, a strange sound began to carry over the breeze, which at first Wanderer didn't recognise.

Then, as they got closer and closer a rhythm slowly developed, developing into a song, then a chant.

A single voice which could carry over distance became tens as the Vessel got closer and closer, and eventually, when they could hear every word being said, they stopped and let the boy continue onward.

Going further would only risk being seen and they wanted time to listen to the music.

They found an alcove in front of a sign, marking the beginning of human intervention once again, and sat inside.

“Rekshte Orkariatsha, Rekshte Orkariatsha!”

“Hrekkeshte okroshe herukrasha, dearhtet.”

“Oetrehkra Earliag darhsha, karsha!”

“Rekshte Orkariatsha, Rekshte Orkariatsha!”

Again and again, verse after verse, the chant repeated, one line of “Rekshte Orkariatsha, Rekshte Orkariatsha!”, two lines of something else, and one more shout to finish before the cycle began again.

Behind it all was a rhythmic thumping, like the sound of reverberation through rock, that kept the whole beat going, each thump timed with the next word.

Although they didn't know what a single word meant, the rhythm possessed an earthy feel that sung of hard work and deserved reward, and opened a well of determination in the Vessel’s soul.

For a good while they sat and listened until, gradually and unnaturally, the song began to die out with voices disappearing, one by one.

After a while, it struck Wanderer as odd and they got up, creeping around the corner to take a peek at what was going on.

Right into the gaze of five, suspicious men.

The Vessel ducked their head back around the corner, hoping that somehow they were unseen.

A series of shouts, the complete end of the music and shuffling a few steps away signalled otherwise.

Feeling it somewhat inevitable, Wanderer came out from their place and met their opposition face to face.

Five men had turned to eight, with the boy they had followed half hidden behind the man closest to them, all of whom staring at Wanderer with a look akin to suspicion, all of whom armed with mining tools in hand.

Much to the Golem’s relief, no one was enhanced, making them confident they could get away, but as it was, the Vessel thought they should try to make the best of a bad situation.

One of the humans stepped forward and began to speak in the language of the Orshraka, questioning them in an accusing tone.

“Dshtrehah hardetka rashkret! Harshe ktresh rakah, retshar.”

Wanderer, of course had no idea what they were saying, and made to sign an answer but was interrupted by another man pushing past the barricade in front of him and pointing to it.

“Harshe, rak orshtre karshar herukreh. Destsherkratreh har Orsha kersha!” he yelled.

Very quickly and for reasons the Golem didn't quite understand, the situation was spiralling out of control.

They would have thought it was just the usual fear of their kind, but it seemed otherwise from the unusually immediate reactions of the group and their constant references to the sign.

Wanderer was under the impression their kind was rare and nearly extinct, there was no way people would act this fast and this coordinated if something else wasn't going on.

The Vessel backed away and was about to run when they had a realisation.

They could run and doubtlessly get away, but the fact was the men in front of them would follow.

To get away with any degree of permanence, to end this fiasco, they would need to wake up Emio and force them to help escape.

And really, as tired as Wanderer was, Emio was equally so and deserved a long rest for everything they had done for them.

“I will find another way out of this, a way where they won't follow me.” The Vessel decided.

Perhaps that was a risk, but the Golem had seen nothing to indicate that these people were truly a threat to them, and as such they felt confident to get away if they really needed to.

They just needed to stay cautious and they would be fine.

They really hoped so, because once again they got dragged into something they had never intended to find.