Prince Skivret stared at the stone tablet in his hand. He let the tablet fall. He pressed his hands against his red eyes trying to fight back against the headache starting to form.

“How could this get any worse?” he said scratching at his white fur.

He stared around at his personal tent. He had a few treasures decorating the space which consisted of a few golden candleholders and his throne, a green cushioned high back chair with no legs. Skivret rose from his throne and walked over to the nearby table that had a map of the sewers carved into an old chessboard. The board had roughly carved figurines sitting on it. Skivret knocked over a roughly painted white piece leaving one left.

A dirty brown wererat in shabby wooden armor came in, “Sire!”

Skivret sighed heavily, “What is it, Nimble?” he said.

“Decker’s monster is here.”

“Do the gods hate me,” Skivret said rushing outside.

Skivret followed the soldier to the makeshift walls surrounding the modest camp. The walls reached all the way to the ceiling with wide gaps for archers. Skivret walked to one of the gaps and saw the monster leading a group of five armored skeletons. A woman in a black dress carrying a large mushroom stood among the skeletons.

“What do you want, monster?” Skivret said.

“We’ve come to offer help,”

“Let it in,” Skivret said.

The guards gave concerned looks but did as commanded. The guards opened the gate by untying it from the wall and sliding it to the side. The guards pointed their crude spears as the monster walked in.

Nimble shoved her spear into the monster’s face, “Not another step,” she said.

The monster ran a claw along the spear pushing it aside, “A threat, how adorable,” it said. Nimble growled at the machine.

“You said you’re here to help,” Skivret said. His fur bristled under the monster’s contempt.

“Yes,” the monster said pushing past the guards, “We’ve heard about your…predicament, and thought we might be able to help.”

“What would you get out of this alliance?”

“Not an alliance. A subjugation,” it said.

Skivret bared his fangs, “You’re mad!” he said, “Why should I make such a deal?” The monster’s chuckle sent a chill down his spine.

“Because you’re desperate,” it said, “I can take advantage of that.”

“Don listen ta him, Sire!” Nimble said, “They still the king.”

The monster’s grinding cackle made everyone’s fur stand up, “Then why hasn’t he stopped the fighting?” it said. Silence filled the air. “Then how about a wager?”

Skivret swallowed hard, “Go on,”

“A fight to the death,” the monster said, “I fight against as many soldiers as you want, but twenty at a time to keep it fair. If you win, you get the recognition of destroying us.”

“And we become your slaves if you win.”

“Exactly,”

Skivret looked around at his camp. The rickety walls, ramshackle tents, and rats wearing patchwork clothes were all that he had left. He had built this camp for the unwanted like him. It was the only home they knew, and he didn’t want his albinism to lead to its destruction.

“Everyone, gather to the arena!” Skivret said, “I accept your challenge, monster.”

The arena consisted of an empty, circular water reservoir about twenty feet wide and eight feet deep. The soldiers strapped on their wooden armor and did their best to sharpen their rusty weapons. The citizens gather around the rim all staring at the mechanical monster standing in the center. Skivret sat down on a wooden stool perched on a raised platform. A second chair was brought for the human woman that accompanied the monster. Skivret motioned to catch Nimble’s attention.

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Skivret leaned close to her ear, and smiled when it twitched in embarrassment, “I want you to organize the soldiers,” he said, “It’d be best to destroy it in the first wave.”

“I understand, sire,” Nimble said, “I’ll join the first wave to make sure that happens.”

Skivret grabbed her wrist, “No, I don’t want you fighting.”

Nimble’s ears dropped, “As ya' wish,” she said.

Skivret balled his fists as he watched Nimble leave.

“Is she important to you?” the human woman said petting the mushroom.

“That’s ’s sweet!” the mushroom said.

Skivret stared in disbelief at the talking mushroom. “Y-yes,” he said watching the mushroom give him a large smile, “She’s my guard captain and personal bodyguard.”

The woman gave him a sad smile, “Then you should keep her out of the battle,” she said.

A mechanical roar pierced through the buzz of the crowd. Everyone fell silent staring at the monster. It’s lower mouth was open revealing grinding gears and a bladed tongue that lashed out at the air. In its right hand was a jagged short sword that glistened menacing in the torchlight.

The monster closed its jaw, “Whenever you’re ready, prince,” it said. The monster was looking down at him from the pit.

Skivret stood up with hand arm raised. He pointed to the monster, “First wave!” he said.

The soldiers let out a loud cry and jumped down into the arena, but their cries died down as blood flew. The monster stood before the group of soldiers with a bloody claw and a corpse at its feet with a missing face. The soldiers stared in horror, and the monster took advantage of it. Skivret flinched. The monster tore at the soldiers with claws and sword, and the arena was quickly covered in blood.

A soldier lost an arm. “Don’t worry, it’ll grow back,” the mushroom said, “Trust me!”

Skivret turned back to see the soldiers trying to trap the monster against the wall with their spears, but it vaulted over them. It tore at the soldiers’ backs coating the walls in their blood. The prince stared in terror as twenty bodies lay on the ground. The monster stared up at him with blood covering its body.

“N-next…w-wave,” Skivret said.

The soldiers stood at the edge of the arena staring down at the horrific scene. No one moved.

“Are you surrendering?” the monster said.

Skivret stared at the soldiers shaking in fear.

Nimble jumped into the arena, “I fight ya',” she said.

“Nimble!” Skivret said, “Get out of there.”

“It my duty to fight for you,” Nimble said turning to face him, “Let me.” Skivret nodded.

“Excellent,” the monster said with a chuckle.

Nimble charged forward and struck out with her spear. The monster dodged out of the way and broke the spear with its claws. Nimble threw away her broken spear and drew her short sword. Skivret gasped as the monster struck at Nimble, but she scurried out of the way. Nimble used her quickness to strike at the monster’s feet.

“Yes!” Skivret said as Nimble dashed under the monster’s feet and struck its back.

The monster rolled forward dodging the attack, and Nimble took advantage. She jumped forward with her sword raised high, but the monster quickly turned around and grabbed her by the throat.

“Impressive skills,” it said, “We’ll make use of them.” Its jaw slowly opened.

“No! Stop!” Skivret said running to the edge of the arena, “You win,” The monster ignored him. Nimble squealed in fear as she struggled in its grasp. “Please don’t kill her!” he said, falling to his knees. Time slowed to a crawl.

“Wait master!” The monster stopped and turned towards the stage. The woman stood up next to the kneeling prince, “You should keep her alive.”

“Why?”

“She is a skilled warrior,” the woman said, “And the prince will need every warrior he can get after losing this many soldiers.”

The monster looked around at the carnage before turning back to Nimble, “A pity,” it said closing its jaw and dropping Nimble. It climbed out of the arena, “We accept your surrender. Gather all your clan to be marked.” The monster stalked away with his servants.

Skivret stared at the arena. Blood and flesh soaked the stone, and not a single body was left whole. The heavy, depressing silence deafened him. His brothers’ words haunting him. A curse prince.

“Sire,” a voice drew him away from the devastation. Nimble kneeled beside him, “Forgive me, I failed ya'.”

“No, I was a failure to begin with,” Skivret said, “A shame it took all of this to show me.”

“That’s not true!” Nimble said, “You built this place with your own hands. You gave us a home.”

“Not anymore,” Skivret said raising to his feet. “Everyone,” he said, “You all are to leave this camp. I exile all of you from my clan!” The crowd stared at him in fear and sadness.

“You can’t do that!” Nimble said, “Your our prince!”

“I can, and I have.” Skivret said walking way.

The monster and his attendants waited in the center of the camp.

“Where’s your clan?” the monster said.

Skivret stared into the monster’s eyes, “This is my clan,” he said, “Everyone else was exiled.”

The monster chuckled, “Clever,” it said grabbing hold of the left side of Skivret’s face, “We can make use of that.” Skivret shrieked at the searing pain. He could smell the stench of burning hair and flesh. The monster released his face, but Skivret could still feel the heat.

Monsta!” Skivret turned to see Nimble and the rest of the wererats approached. “We wish to join you.”

“Are you all mad!” Skivret said, “Why didn’t you run?”

Nimble gave him a soft smile, “You’re our prince, no matta what,” she said walking towards the monster. “I’m ready,” she said pointing to the left side of her face.

The monster looked around. “We are impressed,” it said, “Loyalty is such a rare thing,” it gently reached towards Nimble’s face and she whimpered in pain. “We are Reviled Legion, and we welcome you.”