Chapter Six

The Road of Beginnings I

Ogre lifted the body of the Troglodyte high over his head, impaled on his new greatsword allowing the rain of its blue-green blood to shower over his armour before he threw it at the ranks of its fellows before him. Three of the red-brown lizard-like creatures were bowled over by the attack, teeth knocked free from a skull plate hitting mandibles, the bones in dead mass bruising living flesh. Their hissing screams were alien to his ears, their furious whistles and clacks strange. Most of them were as tall as Lam, with wide flat heads like salamanders, dull beady eyes and a crest of colorful spines that ran from the center of their skull to their necks. Large hands and feet augmented their bare hand attacks, but their weapons were chert stone spear heads, tomahawks, and shortswords with hide bucklers reinforced with heavy bone. The S-class greatsword was overkill for these beasts. However, the dog had to get used to its cumbersome weight, especially being slowed in the heavy armour.

It did not take long for the group to find enemies after they took to the road for the Town of Cerulean. Four hours into the three-day trip, they made camp and Jeda suggested that they hunt or go adventuring for a few hours to see if there was any easy insight to be had. Inside the forest, a broad flat-sided chunk of white stone next to it, marked the walkway as The Road of Beginnings. Jeda had not been kind to Ogre during the trip, but if Ogre was honest, he was not unfair. Jeda set a grueling pace for them, a pace that was not slowed for otter, dog or fox. However, only Ogre was so well-clad in pig-iron and much slowed because it. The warm temperature was better in the shade of the canopy, but the iron almost seemed to cook Ogre in his own juices. He drank bottles of the sweet wine given by the tower, to replace the fluids lost, then nearly threw the empty ones out, but was stopped by Lam. The fox told him, ‘You can use them for water. Once we find a good stream.’

Still, Ogre was frustrated by what felt like intentional slights on behalf of Jeda. He eagerly jumped for the chance to seek out monsters in the forests and adventure into a place he had never seen before. Though, he mused, every place as far as his memory was concerned was one that he could not remember seeing. He went by himself, despite Jeda’s protestations; conceding to give half of what he looted to the party to sate the otter. Ogre felt like Jeda had an overbearing need to seem like the leader of the pack. A small voice in the dog’s head championed the otter leader. It said If Ogre was honest with himself, the dog could see that he was being unfair, and that he agreed to Jeda’s leadership; an otter who showed himself to be tactical and wise in his dealings with him. Ogre tried to ignore that inner voice.

The dog found himself in the middle of a scouting camp of the troglodytes before he knew it. It was an hour and half of walking under the canopy before he found them or they him. The brush was thinned by the thick cover above it, with brightly-colored mushrooms in dark wet patches of the woods, blue-edged pale green lichen, painting logs, mossy limestone chunks and rocky outcrops, that stabbed through the earth like ancient titanic spearheads. The scent of the creatures was like the scent of the forest itself, heady with dank rot and growing green flora, sap from trees, mold and moss. His reaction was instant and with sudden violence. He speared one troglodyte with the greatsword and chased the other that ran away, with an unhurried step. It brought him to the rest of the camp in a few short minutes.

Ogre clenched his teeth, to keep his quickened breaths from showing too much and rested the bloody greatsword on a shoulder.

The dog felt the weight of the armour ease where armour touched him. He took a deep breath and felt the tide of fatigue that was slowly building throughout the day, slow further. He masked his need to rest by glaring at the troglodytes that looked at him warily as their companions untangled themselves from the dead one. Ogre should not have carried that monster for even the few minutes it took to get to the main camp. They were clad in loincloths, their camp was rudimentary, a ring of stone with blackened wood in it and old ashes below that, showed that it was old. Yet there were no tents, just pallets or a scoured bare earth, to rest on the clearing floor. The spit above that old fire, held a small thighbone that still had green flesh attached to it. Refuse collected flies far too close to the camp.

One of the creatures stepped forward, it was larger than the others with more muscle on a form that made its companions seem half-starved. That may just be its shape, if it was starving, I doubt even bones would escape these creatures Ogre thought peering at the goblin flesh on the spit. It hissed and pointed a large chet-stone spear head at him, before smacking the haft on its oval shield. Ogre took his greatsword in both gauntlets and took a slow ponderous step forward. The large troglodyte hissed in what might have been scornful as it leapt over the small fire pit, at the dog, spear first, shield up.

Ogre flexed every muscle in his body bringing his weapon up and down with a thunderous crack as the tip hit stone littered earth. A shiver went up his limbs, but the dog smiled widely baring huge fangs.

Ogre’s vigor dipped and his fatigue lurched up, making the muscles in his body protest. The dog also saw that his vigor points decreased by 100 percentage points. But that was easy to ignore, the slash had been a thing of beauty, perfect. The troglodyte parted cleanly in half before dumping blood, raw viscera, and stinking offal all over the dog, carried as he was with the momentum of his charge. Ogre roared twice, calling out two skills, and watching as his vigor dipped and slowly went back up, and his vigor points drop and stayed at their new sum.

Raw power flooded him as the three monsters closest to him stiffened, beady eyes going wide, mouth slack as weapons groaned in their paws. He reacted like a warrior seeing a foe stumble and charged as he whipped his blade in brutal arc before him. It was inelegant, almost ugly compared to the perfect stroke before, but there was so much power behind it that creatures became bodyparts spraying blue-green ribbons of blood in the blink of an eye.

Ogre swung the greatsword again and again, reducing the troglodytes to raw chunks of flesh and shattered bone. Chips of stone flew, fire-toughed hide parted with a whisper and the dog waded in among them, not giving any quarter or mercy. They did not have a chance to flee, though Ogre did not see any of them even trying to do. Fifteen more creatures were dead in half a minute.

Their bodies vanished and went into his food stores. He ignored their damaged weapons, and took any loot and monster gems that were left behind by imagining that it went into his inventory. When he was done, he fell on his hind quarters and gasped for breath. Bloodlust faded with the last creature. It increased the vigor strain of his swings and movement, and made his fatigue rise a lot sharper. But the benefits were so great that the skill could not be understated. Ogre would take that small cost, knowing that his body was meant to handle such skills. His vigor was already larger than a rogue’s vigor, which after talking to Lam was not usual. Rogues and thieves shared traits with other stealth based classes like Rangers, who were creatures of the long stride. These beasts are endowed with each level a healthy dose of vigor that most warriors could not compete with. The downside with Battle Cry was the length of time for its most devastating effects. Doubling his stats was almost useless unless he was already close enough to touch his foe. But that fifty percent increase for ten seconds worked nicely. Both had that upfront cost that he had not noticed before.

Ogre felt his world dim and shrink with each breath, as darkness gnawed at the edges of his vision. I overdid it. He admitted. I don’t think I can move right now. Ogre checked his status and saw that his health did take some hits, though he was not bleeding. For that I can thank the Hound in the Sky! Ogre shook his head, feeling odd. What is the Hound in the Sky? Was it a god? Was it the God? The thoughts were too complicated to hold. They slipped away as his eyes closed and consciousness fled from him, like a beast from a night terror. Ogre awoke to the halves of a small boulder sliding off his head. His muzzle ran with blood and his head rung. A roar made a tinny echo that bounced off the bevor of his plate as he tried to leapt to his feet. Troglodytes were jerked a paw or two forward but more joined them, hauling on ropes attached to each of his limbs. The day had passed well beyond afternoon towards a ruddy evening, cooling it a bit, and stretching the shadows of tree and monster, making the fire they built nearby a brilliant source of light. There were dozens of the creatures, maybe hundreds. A lot of them pulled on the ropes that kept Ogre from tearing himself free. He was lifted in the air as more joined the threaded vine ropes.

A troglodyte as large as Glaeddra, with a crown of long colorful feathers, that nearly doubled the creature’s height, pointed a sceptre of quicksilver at the dog and uttered a piercing whine. The creature was as red as fresh blood and had large liquid gray eyes. Thick bodied troglodytes with limbs to match responded, dragging large stone axes behind them. Other monsters got out of their way and a keening rose, a cry of rapturous delight, as they waited eagerly for the bloodshed. Sweat trickled its icy rivulets over his body wetting his fur and heightening the raw stench of fear that rose from him. They’re going to hack off my limbs! The bulky troglodytes posted a few paces from each of Ogre’s paws. Then they turned their flat salamander heads to their leader. Ogre could not take his eyes from the monsters with their axes.

Fear has given a 5x multiplier to Insight Gain

Great Fear has Increased Gain

+Ascension Points

Soulweight à Spiritweight

The strange hisses and cackles of the troglodytes abruptly rose, and Ogre felt his body tense. The monsters holding their axes took a few steps forward and raised their weapons high. I’m going to die…there’s no one here to save me! Before, even when the bolt took Ogre through the sides, he did not feel fear like he did now. There was no time to feel it then. But he watched the troglodytes move into formation heard the screeching cries of approval muffled when they should have been painfully loud. Abruptly he could not hear anything. The troglodytes’ muscles flexed, legs bracing, arms and torsos rippling with power as the axes flashed down. Time slowed. Even as he bled out, Ogre could not feel the same fear. Back in the tower, he fought as hard as he could, and he was able to slay his enemies. Now, he was meat, just to be hacked apart. Bound, pulled taut, they would hack him apart as he screamed and begged. Then they would eat him. Ogre was sure. If they ate a creature that a possessed green meat that smelled like a latrine after it was roasted, then of course they would eat him. Ogre howled a mournful cry to a mother whose face he could not remember and abruptly pulled his limbs close to his body, feeling his bowels go to water and loosen as he shut his eyes tight.

There was vibration like stone striking stone, small explosions so powerful that it touched the dog’s fear addled senses. Ogre fell, striking the earth with a grunt. He barely felt it. He could not make any sense of it, but his limbs did not yank back to their place. Open your eyes! The voice was so loud that it should have deafened him. I have felt fear like this before…no, what could this have to compare to that dream? The night terror of the huge dog that tore him apart with a single blow shuddered through him. His eyes shot open. That dog would hurt me more than any creature in this world ever could. He would not disobey it. Ogre trembled as he got to his footpaws among shocked troglodytes, the closest still holding axes lodged deep into the earth. When he pulled his limbs to his body, he must have yanked the vines in the path of the stone axes. Fight! Get stronger! Or the next time you close your eyes to dream I will be waiting, and I will give you sweet pain!

The dog was there, he could see his weakness, see how terrified he was. Ogre had to do something to make it up, to make that berserk dog leave him be! Slaying a few of these will not be enough, I have to kill every monster that has seen this disgrace, every one of them! The greatsword dropped into his paws as an ululating cry from the leader of the troglodytes spurred the axe-weilders to tear their weapons free in a shower of earth and loose stone and swing them again to hew the dog to pieces. He matched their swings with perfect swings of his own. Shattering their stone weapons and tearing through their bodies with equal ease.

Troglodytes, nearly as big as their leader but clad in heavy bone and hide with chipped stone plate covering the front of their bodies surrounded the creature. Ogre only had a moment to react as the head troglodyte pointed it’s scepter at him again. A ball of deep orange fire burst from the tip of the quicksilver and engulfed him in incredible heat. Pain! His body writhed with it, his flesh bubbled and patches not protected by armour plate, blistered and sloughed off in large pieces. It hurt so bad, and the pain did not stop. Ogre screamed and the heat from the fire choked him before it was finally gone. His nose was full of the stench of his burnt flesh, and his mind going blank with so much pain. There was not enough time to scream how it hurt. He trembled in an agony so bad that the greatsword rattled his gauntlets. He bared his teeth. His armour was still painfully hot where the fire struck him. Then he howled again letting his fear go wild, his pain spiral beyond his control and a deep rage, that shot from his throat as it bored deep in his belly.

Ogre saw the Troglodyte leader ready another fireball before he leapt into masses of monsters, swinging his sword with abandon. The feeling of half his pain leaving him so suddenly, and his senses floating wild as he lost control put him in a near euphoric state. He was stronger than he had ever been, and his vigor held out even as he unleashed one then two skills back-to-back upon some of the more tenacious groups of the troglodytes. Most of them died screaming in seconds within the range of his gore-slathered blade. When he cleared the area around him, the leader of the monsters would lob a fireball at him. The burning pain now being dimmed by his skill, allowed him to survive being blasted three more times before his attacks became too erratic for the head Troglodyte to hit him. Arrows rained on him at every opportunity. When they struck flesh they stuck, but most shattered against the heavy pig iron plate. As the battle stretched on, the creatures became so desperate that they shot among their own people. The troglodytes went down screaming clutching arrows in faces, chests, arms and legs. Ogre saw that hacking through their thick tails allowed them to bleed out in seconds. He chose the tail only when they fled from him. Many of them did, though not most. They were stout-hearted warriors, but fools. In his state he could not comprehend their bravery, he could only exult in the continual waves of meat that he could drag his greatsword through.

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Hours stretched as he hunted, and dusk deepened to true night. A pair of moons, one full and scarlet, the other larger but a pale sapphire with deep navy blue along its edges lit his way where clearing opened the forest to its pools of red and blue glazed moonlight. Gradually the fear fled from him, leaving only rage, and an unrelenting need to avenge himself on his enemies. He could not remember why, just only that it must be done.

After he hunted down all those who fled from him, Ogre searched for the leader of the troglodytes. It took hours more for him to find him. He was surrounded by over fifty of the most capable of his monsters. Ogre’s heart pounded, his chest ached, and his mouth and throat felt raw. He was bone weary. The wounds, cuts, and half-healed burns itched so bad that it made him moan softly to himself. The sky started to take on that deep slat gray cast right before night became morning. He glared at them, his light sensitive eyes picking them out as darker shadows on deep gray. Ogre heard more sounds as something struck the back of the group of Troglodytes. The dog blinked as one of the head troglodyte’s fireballs blasted a tree next to him. The wash of heat woke him from his fatigue induced fugue. He roared again utilizing the skill: Battle Cry and hacked into the front of the shield bearing Troglodytes like a mad dog.

The greatsword grew too burdensome for him to lift so he threw it down and used his jaws. He tore them apart, and he beat them with his gauntleted paws. Ogre was blinking gore from his eyes, just as the first rays of morning broke over the cover of the trees when he finally reached the Troglodyte leader. He opened his maw wide to take the feeble creature in them, then watched in horror as a bolt of yellow lightning tore through the creature, blasting rents in its skin and sending the headdress flying as the sceptre melted into the troglodyte’s taloned hand. Ogre’s gauntlets were battered and bloodied and the bones under them broken, useless. His jaws were nearly fused shut with cramps locking the muscles in his head, jaw and face up. He fumed in wordless outrage before he collapsed. Breathing like a dying beast, his jaws were pried apart, by a few dozen beasts working in concert, and a liquid was poured into his mouth. He seized with the blast of hot and cold and realized that it was elixir before exhaustion won over and he collapsed into unending night.

The dream that Ogre had been dreading, came and went with the abruptness of a sigh and words that chilled him to the bone. You have barely appeased me, pup. Get stronger and fight better!

Ogre woke to a memory of pain and soreness over his entire body. He shuddered and felt that pain recede like the dregs of a bad dream until only his paws throbbed. The dog opened his eyes. The sky was blue overhead with lonely chalk gray clouds floating on its flat face as a blanket of golden light bathed him in uncomfortable heat. The sun did not beam down from its zenith, but from an angle signaling that it was still morning but also that it was well underway. The dog tried to sit up, the pig iron groaned, and as he put his paws down to his sides to brace himself, he felt agony tear through his limbs. Ogre whined loudly clutching his arms carefully to his cuirass, rolling as he was racked with bone deep ache.

It took long moments for the hurting to subsided to the previous dull ache, but no beast spoke as more than a few otters and foxes including Lam watched him. Ogre lay on his back and did not try to rise again for many breaths.

“Do you want to sit up, Ogre, I can help you.”

Ogre nodded, slowly and was deeply grateful for the care that the fox showed him as he lifted and pushed him to a sitting position. The dog looked at his paws as Lam tried his best to make him comfortable. The gauntlets were still there but they were wrapped tight with bandages up to his elbow. A flash of a memory made his heart sink, and his mouth go dry. He recalled being held aloft with vine-rope, as lizard-like creatures lifted stone axes to dismember him. I escaped that didn’t I? I have arms…I can feel them! More thoughts flooded through him. Hours of fighting, slaughtering troglodytes, the blight that was that troglodyte leader dousing him with flame as he went berserk. The shame of soiling himself when the head monster called for his limbs to be taken apart. The troglodytes breaking a rock over his head. Ogre closed his eyes slowly and held them tight before he could see the gauntlets again. The flakes of brown left where blood had been cleaned from the metal still smelled strongly. It was copper and iron that filled his nose, and the hint of that past shame. Somebeast tried to clean him up, the scent of it was not as sharp as it should be. They did well. Soapwort, water, and oil masked the stench so well that he was sure no one besides himself could smell it.

Ogre looked up at Lam. The other foxes did not join the makeshift pack with the otters as Ogre and Lam did, however they did not journey far from them. They followed at a distance but made camp within sight of the group. He had some assumptions on who cleaned him up. Would he have to deal with so much if he stayed with his own kind? How can I repay him?

“What do you remember from your war with the Troglodyte Chieftain?” Jeda asked, coming within view from Ogre’s left with Glaeddra in tow.

She wore more armour now and had another greatsword hanging from her back. It was not S-class. Ogre scowled at the otter. “I remember someone taking my kill. I did not know that you could use lightning.”

The dog should have known better. He assumed the S-class arbalest was their best defense against him, but he survived a bolt or two before and his health had grown since then. However, that lightning bolt, he did not see how he could survive that.

“You are remarkably lucid for the ordeal and recovery that you just went through.” Said Jeda, “And save for the broken paws relatively unhurt.”

“I was lucky.” Said Ogre, thinking about the wealth of skills and power that he recently obtained from the days-long battle.

“You were saved by us,” Jeda corrected, “Not lucky. And two otters died for your carelessness.”

“I…I…” Ogre stuttered, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic heat in the otter’s voice. “I did not ask you to save me! You should have stayed out of it!”

Lam put a paw on Ogre’s cuirass near the dog’s shoulder making him flinch.

“You killed them with your need to slaughter, dog!” Said Glaeddra, “We should have cut you down before we left the Tutorial Tower Grounds!”

Ogre’s scowl deepened. “You’re angry that your precious leader gave up your best sword in order to have me in the group.”

“Ogre…” Lam warned.

The dog looked at the fox then tried to cross his arms before moaning in pain and dropping them to his sides.

“You did not ask us to save you, Ogre, but you joined our group. And in our group, I take responsibility for everybeast, whether they like me or not.” Said Jeda. “I was hesitant to make you one of us because I could foresee your foolhardiness, and arrogance. But I assumed that a dog would know what a pack meant. They risked their lives to save you because that’s what a pack does for the beasts within it. You should think on it before making any more unruly decisions.”

The otters about them stood and took notice. Their eyes were hard on Ogre, searching. They had been remarkably friendly with the dog when he decided to join up with them. They treated him rather kindly, especially compared with their kindred, the weasels and wolverines. Am I wrong in this? Should I apologize? Wait I spoke to Jeda…I told him what I was doing and it was his idea to go hunting for meat and insight in the first place. Ogre opened his mouth to say just that, when Glaeddra interrupted. “He gets to stay in the Romp? He made us sacrifice a brother and a sister, and he gets to live?”

The beasts around Ogre shuffled foot paws nervously, feeling the tension. Some had watched from the corners of their eyes, whereas others stared openly. Now, most of them looked uncomfortable, preferring to glare at the ground or their weapons than the large female otter.

“We were told the risks of being an adventurer, Glaeddra.” Jeda said, turning his large dark eyes on her. Unlike when Jeda looked flatly at the dog, his eyes were not unkind. “We know what can happen especially after the Tower. And he will pay for the sacrifice of Nama and Sorda.”

“What are you talking about, Jeda?” Growled Ogre, “I’m not paying for anything! I did not kill those otters! Troglodytes killed them, and I killed troglodytes and I’m sure the rest of the pack had the chance to avenge themselves on the monsters too.”

“You will give up the monster gems that you collected. They will be split evenly among the pack.”

“Or what?”

Ogre ignored both the tug and Lam’s frantic whisper. “Will you slay me if I do not concede?”

Glaeddra smiled viciously. “It is not fair to give you even this chance, but do please ignore it, so that I can spit you on your own sword.”

“I’m not talking to you, Otter!” Ogre said baring his teeth at the large female, before pointing his nose at Jeda. “I’m talking to you!”

“Your paws are broken, Ogre. And though your friend Lam would likely not abandon you, he will not be able to keep you alive for the entire trip to Cerulean Town.” Jeda shrugged, “Perhaps your bite will be enough. But it is no substitute for a sword, especially not a greatsword. You don’t know what’s out there. For some reason you don’t remember what happened in the Tutorial Levels. And you do not know what happened to us so near to the road.”

“He’s right, Ogre.” Said Lam, “The monsters here are stronger than the ones in the tower. They are tougher and smarter. The weaker ones will only fight you in their hoards, or they will ambush you. And it seems as if they are drawn to roadways like this.”

The fox waved at the flagstone road, called: The Road of Beginnings.

“The monsters that come at night are stronger than the ones that attack in the daylight, and they come in their dozens.” Said Jeda, “We saw some Jackalopes in the distance. Before we knew it, they knocked ten of our otters silly with no provocation at all. No one died, luckily. But we were here to protect them while they were unconscious. We were there to protect you once we found you. You don’t want to travel alone. Pay the restitution or death price if you prefer, we can call it that. It is not so bad a price. Divvy up the gems, the items, and the meat.”

Ogre felt his heart leap into his throat when Jeda mentioned him being unconscious. That battle with the Troglodytes consumed so much of his stamina, that his body gave in to the sweet release of sleep. The dog took his body’s betrayal as an insult. He slept after a battle with the monsters before. The memory of being held aloft while those Troglodytes hefted their crude axes to dismember his body, was too fresh. He shivered. No, he did not want to go on alone.

“This is unfair,” Said the dog, “But I will not put Lam at risk…to…to sate my ego.”

He said the last words so quietly that Jeda had to lean in to hear. Ogre spoke again this time, loudly, “I regret the foolishness of going out alone and I will give up this meat and loot for my brother otters.”

Thousands of pounds of troglodyte meat appeared before Lam. Then over a hundred troglodyte stones, made a pile next to the heap of meat. Jeda raised an eyebrow, as if to say Is that it no more arguing? Ogre smiled wanly at the taller Otter. The smile was meant to convey that he knew that Jeda was right in this. From the way the Otter looked at him, he must have gotten something of a smirk from it.

The indication surprised Ogre. He did not realize that he activated Silvertongue. Why was the reward so great? Ogre thought, he looked around at the otters, watching as hostile postures became friendly and hard eyes softened. A dozen of them even came up to him asking how he felt, if his paws were hurting him. Twice that number asked him how he managed to slay hundreds of the Troglodytes by himself. It was the sum of the beasts that the skill worked on! Ogre realized. This is better than any other way I have to increase my stats! Ogre smiled broadly. “The monsters that you all fought, were elite compared to the ones that I did in.”

It was the truth but all they saw, was Ogre trying to be humble. The dog looked at Jeda, who was eyeing the rest of the otters strangely as if concerned that the beast he intended to punish somehow got out of it. When Ogre looked at Glaeddra he felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. She hates me! The large female otter stormed away, after telling Jeda that she was going to relieve one of the scouts on duty.

“Somehow I doubt you have upended all of your stores of loot to be fairly allotted.” Said Jeda. “We will say that you have your allotment and call it even. We have lost three days because of you. One day searching for you, and two more to allow you to sleep through the trauma you put your body through. Honestly, the loot very nearly makes up for it. You have six hours. Eat, rest, and be ready to move. We will continue just past noon.”

Jeda nodded and left. Lam waited until the Otters let the dog be, before taking him off to the side to speak with him.

“I’m sorry, I was not with you. Ogre, I was trying to convince the other foxes, Ewe and Ram to join our happy group. But you did well here. I did not think you would turn it so deftly to your benefit.”

Ogre nodded, unable to look the fox in the eye. “Thank you for uh…for helping me with the blood and uh…”

Lam looked away. “They had already mostly cleaned you up by the time I got to you. I think Jeda had Glaeddra do it, she is the largest and strongest of the Otters, after all. I heard she even returned your greatsword. You know the one that Jeda gave to you that was originally hers.”

Ogre stiffened and then groaned. “I would have rather that it had been you.”

Lam sighed, “I thought as much. But lying about this would have foolish, plus the other otters already know.”

They knew about his shame and yet they were able to be convinced by him? Ogre shook his monstrous head and then froze as a spell of dizziness came over him. He felt weak and so hungry, so abruptly. Forcing his mind on the matters at paw, he was able to forget about his embarrassment for some time as he pulled out his spit, and the vittles from given by the tower, and began to roast troglodyte and weasel meat. The next level for the Glutton skills is 500 pounds. Let’s see if I can clear that in six hours.

Did I almost die from eating too much? Ogre thought, looking sleepily down at his swollen belly. It was so big that it eclipsed the monstrous size of his head. The otters were gathered around, mouths open, troglodyte bones slipping from paws, and awe glittering in their dark eyes. The silence in the camp made the noise of the woods nearby, cacophonous with its sounds of birds, insects, and the sigh of a cool wind through the trees, that barely relieved the warmth squatting over the land. Then there was a tumult of applause and hooting as awe at his gluttonous eating, spilled from the throats of otters. Ogre tried to shake the sleep from his head, then held his paws, entombed in his gauntlets, out to steady himself. The noise about him was growing muffled. Sleep called. At least I’m not hungry anymore. He wondered if it was the Glutton skill that made him so avaricious.

“You’re becoming a soldier’s legend among these otters, Ogre.” Said Lam, from somewhere off to his side, the dog’s lids were so heavy that he could not manage to look the fox’s way. “They are in awe of your ability to slay your enemies, and you eat as well as a troupe of them…better, more…if I think about it. It’s miraculous really.”

Ogre mumbled something to the fox, that might have been to the order of, “I wonder if I have room for some more of the that sweet tower wine.”

The dog felt himself being lowered to the ground. I can’t eat like this again…I have to slowly gain weight, get to a thousand pounds before I can eat my weight in meat and not risk my life doing it. Glutton explained that I could do that. I wonder if I can make the troglodyte meat taste better? Some herbs, spice…salt? Darkness swallowed him. He did not go to a glowing place of crystalline chalices the size of cottages and jeweled greenery, but to an ordinary dream. In this dream he was in a feast, and he ate all the food, the plates, chairs and started on the table before it ended.