Alek woke to the sensation of his bed shifting. The dark ceiling resolved into grayscale, its textures lost to his darkvision. To his left was the silhouette of a Tel’ani woman and judging by the way her body heat ran uninterrupted, she was naked. A blinding point of light tore through his eyes causing pain. Blinking rapidly to dispel the darkvision he soon focused on the woman pulling on her clothes by the dim white glow of a threshlight.

"What are you doing here?" Alek asked, his voice dry and cracked.

The woman turned to him, her face hidden by shadow, but her husky voice was thick and sarcastic. "Oh yes, how dare I be in my room."

Alek coughed, and grabbed at his throat. "Okay, what am I doing here? And where are my pants?"

"Your clothes are by the fireplace. You came in covered in blood last night if you recall. Get up. You sound like you need water and you might as well help me cook."

"You're ordering me around?"

"I was strongly suggesting, but if it makes you feel better? Get off your ass and stoke the stove."

Alek would have laughed, but his throat felt like hell itself had taken up residence so he padded into the main room where the Tel’ani slave girl who didn’t at all talk like a slave girl was leaning over a Tiefling man who had fallen asleep propped up against the wall.

“Hey sweety, how about you go to your bed and I’ll have breakfast ready in an hour or so?” She said in her low husky tone before kissing him on the forehead.

“Yeah, sure Tai-Tai.” He mumbled back.

Alek furrowed his brow and tried to make sense of the woman. She dressed like a whore, but acted like a mother. It was perplexing. He followed her and after a much needed drink, he stoked the fire and was put to the task of peeling potatoes. He, The Harbinger of Wrath, was peeling potatoes for a slave. Alek quietly chuckled to himself while staring at the woman's butt. Her dress was open on the sides, the split ran up her thighs and stopped at the hip. It was distracting, and whore-like.

"What smells like cat piss?" Alek asked.

"That would be the boss."

"There's an unfortunate birth defect."

She looked down at him, confusion written on her face for a moment. "Oh, no. He has a thing for cats. Has a dozen of the little fuckers up there." She nodded toward a door up a short flight of stairs.

"How'd you end up here?"

"Here in Lydia or here with the horned?"

The horned? That was a new term. "With these guys."

"Ah, well my original owner sold me to a brothel. The owner there was a disgusting man, pretty, but disgusting. I was the new Tel'ani so I got to service all the ugly fuckers. That's where I learned there was a difference between ugly on the outside and ugly on the inside. Left that place as soon as I could. Ha, and left the bastard's pretty face in ruins. I didn't get caught for that, but you know how it is. The king had decreed all Tel’ani are slaves and therefore all Tel’ani shall be slaves. Fucker. Anyways I meant the boss and we came to a deal. I take care of the boys and they take care of me."

"Hold on. I've seen plenty of freed slaves."

The woman laughed. "Yeah? Any that weren't old or impaired?"

Alek opened his mouth, but his reply died on his tongue.

"So how did the great Harbinger of Wrath get here? Not to this town, that I already understand, but bloody and beaten half to death on my table?"

Alek chuckled to himself as he finished peeling his last potato. "Last night was the anniversary of Wrath's death. I went around the bars paying for drinks in remembrance."

"Not something that usually gets a guy beaten."

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Ha, no. Well, someone insulted Wrath and I hit him. It was the third guy that surprised me. Then when I got thrown out, it was like the whole town went nuts."

The woman nodded in understanding.

"What's your name and… why do you talk like that?"

"My name is Tai-ee'ee."

"Tai-ee-ee?"

"Tai-ee'ee." She corrected, not that it sounded any different from what he had said. "The river is out back. Go get cleaned up. The boss will want to talk with you after breakfast. And for your other question…" She thought for a moment. "Do you want to know why I talk differently? Or why other Tel'ani don't talk like me?"

"I think those are the same questions."

"Hmmm." She grinned. "Dogs don't eat bread… Now go."

***

Tai-ee'ee sat at the table among the Tieflings and next to the only other female in the room. Tarson, generally referred to as Boss, sat at the head of the table. The group as a whole ribbed Alek good-naturedly about his peasant caused wounds and bothered him for a few stories about his time with Wrath. The breakfast was pleasant and filling and Alek found himself in Tarson's office shortly after eating, which was considerably less pleasant. It was a well appointed room with full bookshelves, nice couch, a large stately desk, and well lit due to the large windows. However, the smell of cat piss made his eyes water. The fuzzy felines were everywhere. Two of them rubbed against his leg purring and demanding his attention. The only saving grace was the breeze from the open window. Seriously, how did Tarson not suffocate in here?

Tarson sat down with a groan no doubt caused by the stiff joints of age. A white fuzzy ball of a cat jumped into his lap and the man leaned back into his comfy desk chair and stroked the feline. Alek wondered if the white ball of fluff was named Snowball. They were always named Snowball. He took the chair on the other side of the desk and really examined Tarson's face. It was one of those moments where he realized just how lucky he had been. Sure Alek's skin was gray, he had rather large horns, a tail which made pants problematic, and yellow eyes that most people found disturbing, but he also had a rugged, almost human, handsomeness. Tarson's face, the poor bastard, looked like a blown up puffer fish. His too small mouth sat below beady eyes in a wide face full of small spines. The row of spines protruding from his graying hair didn't help. The man leaned back, his chair protesting and his cat purring away.

"I suppose you're not recruitable?" Tarson said, not entirely a question.

"No. I have my own things going on."

The man nodded his understanding. "I pick up most of my boys out of jail cells and off the streets. They're not always the brightest bunch, but you can't beat the loyalty earned by giving a man a bed and purpose. So what exactly happened to get a hero dropped on my table covered in blood?"

"I punched a guy for insulting my best friend. His friends jumped me. I'm honestly confident I could have taken the three of them, but after being dragged outside the town itself seemed to go nuts. It spiraled out of control and I didn’t know how to get out without killing people. Not the best way to fit into a town I plan to live the rest of my life in."

"I see. While I'm sure my little enterprise doesn't help, the reaction isn't entirely our fault. The people here have been oddly divided on our kind since before we moved in. Have you met Malex?"

"No, though I've heard the name once or twice."

"He's a shrewd prick. No love lost between us. He built that monstrosity of a complex that serves as an inn, bar, and flesh shop. The people here either love the guy or are vehemently opposed to his 'den of hedonism'. The other one is a native. The local wizard's daughter supposedly. According to the townsfolk she's damn creepy. Lots of bullshit stories about eating children and luring victims into the woods so she can eat them. Some merc disappeared a few days ago and the town is already blaming her. I've never seen her, but the funny side of that particular coin is that everyone on this side of the river talks like she's some sort of saint. Threw me for a bit of a loop the first time I crossed the river and the comment went from 'go back to hell' to 'hey, how ya doin''. A bit topsy-turvy if you know what I mean."

Alek winced as the breeze shifted and he got a good whiff of urine. "I do.”

“The town’s wizard is a pleasant old geezer. I recommend visiting his tower sometime, he sells all the magic shit and a bunch of mundane books. It’s the one straight across the bridge. He says he bought the tower as a joke, but started regretting it once he hit his fifties and the stairs became a problem.” Tarson chuckled.

“I’ll do that sometime. So why does the town hate you? If you don’t mind my asking."

"Ah well. I'm running a protection racket. Legitimate protection, none of that, you pay us and we'll leave you alone bullshit. We were a bit heavy handed in the beginning though. Protected a few people that cursed us a bit too much from their customers."

"That'll piss some people off."

"Yes well, some of the mercs in town are real pieces of work. Anyway, I’m a bit curious about what a hero thinks of our operation?”

Apparently this was the thing Tarson actually wanted. Why, Alek could only guess. Maybe the man was concerned that he would have a problem with it. Maybe he wanted legitimacy from a hero. Or maybe the guy was just curious. Either way Alek really just wanted to get out of the cat piss room without insulting the guy who saved some lives, possibly his life. Alek shrugged. “I’m retired. This in no way affects me.”

“One could argue we are not good. In my experience the heroes that haven’t become too jaded tend to get persnickety about such things.”

“I’ve only known one good person.” Alek let out a long sigh. “He might have had an issue, but he’s dead.”

“And you’re sure you won’t join us?”

“I’d rather remain neutral.”

“That’s fair.”