Without looking back, I finally exited the inn, drawing in deep the questionable city air. There was a hint of salt to it, under the scents of a pressed humanity. Still, it was relatively clean when compared to the barbaric squalor of Ansan.
I barely walked three paces out into the street when I felt a small tap on my shoulder. Turning around I saw a somewhat bemused Zariyah with an expression between a frown and a thoughtful smile. She had me wait while she adjusted a veil around her face, covering her eyes.
Her fingers flashed at me, their meaning only vaguely understandable until I remembered to use my Identify spell.
Again, will you be playing the part of the guide or shall I? her delicate fingers slowing to a more understandable pace.
“Ahh, of course, lead on. I just wanted an escape from well… all of that,” I answered, growing a little hot under my collar. “The Grand Bazaar, right?” I added with a weak smile, wanting to change the subject.
Her expression turned to one of bemusement. Yes, it is not too far from here. You had best follow and be sure to keep up, her hands messaged me. As she turned away to take the lead, there was a ghost of sad smile on her lips. With a sigh, I eagerly followed her, and together we navigated our way through the afternoon throng.
She walked with a casual grace that would put most dancers to shame. Sure and confident, she adroitly avoided the various obstacles in her path. In comparison, I could only bumble along, my eyes overly distracted by the slight sway of her hips.
As we continued, the streets began to change. The buildings were of a finer cut of stone, marble in places, and seemed to press closer together and reached several stories higher. By my reckoning, some of the domed buildings were about seven floors high. Incongruous to this, lines of rope burdened with laundry reached over the streets between them. When a light salt wind blew, an errant drop from above splashed on my face as I looked up.
Slowly, I could feel that there was a more feverish buzz in the air. I could hear shouts as, somewhere up in the distance, hawkers cried out the price of their wares. In reaction, I couldn’t help but clasp Zariyah’s shoulder to stop her progress as she almost disappeared into the crowd.
“Where are we now? Where is this?” I asked.
She looked at me, opening her mouth as if to laugh before quickly covering it with a hand. Uncovering her mouth, her lips began to move but no sound came forth. Looking embarrassed for some odd reason, she answered me instead with her hands.
We are now in the Merchant’s Quarter, and we will soon be at the Grand Bazaar, her fingers told, a polite and deferential smile on her face.
Her eyes darkened as she saw something frightful behind me.
“Move your behind, or I will move it for you, you fool!” came a deep and throaty growl that could not belong to any man. Disturbed, I turned around to confirm.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Before me, a figure loomed, bearing a rough resemblance to a man. Clad only in loosely fitting trousers of local design, his presence was undeniably imposing. Despite being unclothed from the waist up, he was far from naked. Light brown fur covered a broad torso that rippled with slabs of lean muscle. Atop wide shoulders sat a large, maned leonine head with a maw parted to reveal formidable fangs that seemed on the brink of a roar. His hands and feet had claws that looked wickedly sharp. A tail swished behind him, signaling his animosity. Behind this daunting figure, three somewhat similar creatures stood, a mix of man and beast, though less formidable in stature. They were clawed and furred, but they possessed a leaner build and their faces were of distinctly lupine aspect. They snickered, yapping like feral dogs.
These were the beastmen of your typical fantasy.
A line of sweat ran down my back, and I saw the man-lion smirk, his feline eyes sparkling in delight with my discomfort. Thankfully my combat reflexes came to the fore, as I automatically cast an Identify on the leonine figure.
Hashmal the Fang of the Storm - Claw Savage (Beastkin lvl.9)
Health: 177/177
Stamina: 49/50
Mana: 7/7
As the spell returned to me with the information it had gathered, the leonine Beastkin pushed past me along with his wolfman posse. It was then that I burst out laughing, releasing all of the tension that had been building up within me. Like a burst dam, it left me in a flood. I vented great peals of laughter that could not be ignored. The situation was truly absurd.
These Beastmen, their leader at least, were nothing more than low-level trash and not worthy of regard. The fact that he came with a grand sobriquet just added to the hilarity. Fang of the Storm, indeed!
Hasmal stopped in his tracks, quivering with a new rage. “You dare to mock me, feeble human!” Hashmal screamed in a primal challenge, his golden feline eyes glaring at me.
“No, not at all. It’s just that… not every day one can witness a domesticated house cat walk about on two legs,” I answered, uncaring of the consequences. Zariyah shot me a worried look as she unconsciously grasped my sleeve.
Truly enraged, the lion like Beastkin let loose a deafening roar. I let the sound flow over me and through me. For that was all it was, just sound. The crowd scattered and shied away from us. Zariyah looked at me shocked as if I had sprouted horns.
“Wait, Hashmal. The naked ones are usually all weak, but this one… He might be one of them. There is no fear scent on him,” one of his pack warned.
“Yes, we don’t need human trouble. We are just here for the tournament, ‘member?” another one of them whined.
Yet, their warnings fell on deaf ears, For I continued to laugh, and the sound tinged with madness drew their leader Hashmal into a reckless charge. His claws, sharp as razors, lashed out with lethal intent.
As it did with Sevas, the arm in which my mimic resided blocked an oncoming flurry of blows with almost consummate ease. Hashmal was not fighting one, but two entities.
The Beastkin was, no doubt, objectively fast, but I had fought things that were faster and far stronger. Still, I was not invincible, and neither was my resident. The Mimics Health was slowly being chipped away with each successfully deflected blow. My vision narrowed to focus only on the leonine Beastkin and the world around us seemed to slow, every motion exaggerated, every detail crystal clear. Out of my heavy armor, I found that I could move with even greater speed. Hashmal had bitten off far more than he could chew.
It was time to get some experience points.