I moved about the village that day, trying to keep my head down. There was a part of me that wanted to test myself against the ogres. Well, I should say against the other ogres, since there was no denying that I was one of them now. I half-way wondered if the AI was messing with my head because it was filled with many violent thoughts.

How would I even know if my thought patterns were being changed? If the AI did it slowly, subtly enough, I might one day end up just like these ogres. What terrified me about that was not the violence. I was okay with killing monsters. It wasn’t like I was killing actual beings. Most of them were just digital constructs running on minimal AI guidance. Even if I killed players, I wasn’t killing them, just their avatar.

That thought convinced me the AI was messing with me. I should have realized this was going to happen eventually. The AI had seemed interested in me inserting myself into player parties as a novelty. It would be a way to increase player enjoyment. But instead, I had spent the past month cooking for ogres and racking up stat points while allowing myself to be repeatedly killed. Nothing I was doing was currently adding to player enjoyment. Apparently, the AI was going to push me in the direction it wanted me to go.

I was 99% certain that there were no other Hybrid Intelligences amongst the ogres here and certainly no players. Heck, because of my cooking, the warriors of the village had stopped trying to raid NPC merchant caravans or attacking areas that players hunted in. They had instead focused on bringing back an ever-increasing variety of monsters.

After a little over a month with the ogres, I was pretty sure that the primary thought in most ogres’ heads when they saw a new type of monster was what it tasted like. Heck, even I had started to wonder what the bear-pede would have tasted like, rather than simply wanting revenge.

Here I was cleaning up the remains of the warriors’ party the night before and I was beginning to worry I was going to end up like them. This served to move up my timetable for leaving Ghazban village and to distract me. One of those distractions caused me to bump into one of the warriors.

He shoved me. “Outcast no touch. Say sorry.”

Maybe it was the path my thoughts had been on immediately prior, but I was in no mood to humor this warrior. I had taken to Assessing every monster I encountered, and this was no different. He was just a level 5 brawler. Nothing that I couldn’t deal with. As his hand stretched out to grab me, I pushed it aside and drove my knee up into his gut.

The force caused him to double over. It hadn’t caused him any serious loss of HP, but the body still reacts in certain ways. A certain feral instinct had come over me. I wouldn’t call it the rage, but I was going to show this fool that I was not to be messed with.

My hands quickly moved behind his head as it was facing downward. I interlaced my chubby fingers as well as I could and then began to pull his head down as I drove my knee back upward. There was a satisfying sensation as his broad nose broke upon my knee, followed by blood, lots of blood. I repeated the process a half dozen more times.

He struggled to get away, but I estimated with the extra Strength points I had applied, we were fairly evenly matched. What was more, my Agility made my reactions far faster than his. Add to that the pain and disorientation he experienced as I smashed all the bones in his face, and he had little chance of getting away.

That is, until he entered his rage. He activated our racial ability, and I got to experience it from the other side. The strength in his arms surged, and he was able to push me back. I could tell that his face was a ruined mess. Both orbital sockets were broken, and his eyes were bulging and puffy. If this were the physical world, he would be lucky to not lose both eyes.

Despite his disfigurement, the rage allowed him to fight on. He pulled a wicked looking cleaver off his back. My spear was still at Shemi’s hut because she insisted outcasts weren’t allowed to carry weapons around the village. But I was no mere outcast. I was a shaman, and I had weapons beyond the physical.

I pulled on my mana and cast Frost Rift. The blast hit him head on. As I had noticed the night before, a high percentage of my targets experienced either chilled or frozen debuffs. I assumed it was because my Will score was so high for my level. Even if I was wrong, it still triggered this time. The raging brawler was blasted hard enough to remove another quarter of his HP, taking him below half, and he was also coated in ice.

I roared, fighting back the feeling or rage that was swelling within me. “I am Oogliefrank, apprentice to Shemi and none of you are strong enough to take me.”

By this point, we were surrounded by warriors. The other outcasts who had been cleaning with me all scurried out of sight, but I could see them watching from behind the various huts. One of the warriors surged forward. I shouted, “Flameburst,” and watched as the skin of his face was engulfed in fire. His eyebrows were gone, and the skin had turned from the normal grayish hue to an inflamed pink shade.

Taking advantage of the time that bought me, I quickly cast Inner Power, followed by Burst of Light, at the charging warrior. I had to hope that ogre honor required them to challenge me one at a time. Even then I knew there were some warriors who were almost level ten and that didn’t take into consideration Tulbat or Kerkek.

I was gratified to note that the blindness debuff landed, but then felt a bit at a loss of what to do. I didn’t have any weapons besides my fists and spells. Well, and a small belt knife. That might work if my foes were human, but with the size of ogres, it wouldn’t do much.

So, magic it was. I just needed a stronger spell. I needed to hit him harder without having to waste too much mana, something with more punch than Frost Rift and the mana efficiency of Flameburst. My mind raced. I was supposedly now a Hybrid Intelligence. Shouldn’t that mean that I could expand beyond the limitations of my class?

In my mind, I focused on both Frost Rift and Flameburst at the same time. I didn’t let myself wonder about how ice and fire would interact. This was magic, after all. It didn’t need to follow the same rules. I willed the spells to merge and then felt intense pain as an icy power coursed through my veins. It was all that I could do not to scream aloud.

Then the mana congealed in my hand and a sparkling sphere of white energy tinged with orange flame like patterns dancing through it appeared. I willed the energy to streak from me to my foe, and a brilliant flash occurred as it struck him.

Notifications popped up, but I didn’t have time to look at them. I watched as the ogre warrior fell to the ground, screeching in pain. It must have been intense to bypass ogre toughness and as I watched, I saw his gray skin starting to turn blue and translucent in a pattern spreading out from the spot where my spell had struck his leather armor.

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The spread began to slow almost immediately, but I felt a link between myself and the spell, so I funneled more mana into it and the ogre’s yelps of pain increased in volume.

“No morez please. Youz is boss.” His words were barely coherent, but the pleading came through. I continued the spell for another couple of seconds before cutting off the mana to it.

Then I beat my chest. I waved my hand at all the warriors, saying, “Don’t you forget it. I am not to be pushed around. I am a shaman and apprentice to Shemi. My power can cause pain, but it can also end that pain.”

This was a risk, since I wasn’t sure what the new spell had done to the warrior, but I still felt it was the right thing to say. Nothing risked, nothing gained after all. I cast Regeneration on the screaming ogre. With the skill currently maxed out, it healed 12 HP per second for 16 seconds. I stacked on a second casting of it and the crowd of ogres spoke in hushed tones, displaying their excitement. Most of them had seen no one besides Shemi use magic.

Tulbat was enraged. Even as I healed the first ogre that I had beaten to a pulp, I saw him pushing the others out of the way. I still couldn’t tell his level, so I had no doubt I was about to be sent to respawn. Behind him I saw Kerkek watching, but the chief hadn’t taken any steps to intervene. He looked about as lost in thought as I have ever seen an ogre be, but I had more immediate concerns.

I used my Dodge skill to evade the first swing of a massive hammer that Tulbat swung at me. I was still 99% certain that it was the same hammer which had crushed my skull on more than one occasion while I was accruing extra stat points. I was far more agile than an average ogre, and Tulbat was no exception. He must have followed the Mauler path because he didn’t seem to have gained any extra Agility.

It was obvious though that his Strength was much greater than mine. If any of those blows landed, I would end up more like a pancake than a shaman. So, I made use of the skills that I had and stumbled backward as quickly as I could manage. I gained just enough room to risk a spell. Flash of Light shot off my fingers.

It would have been too much to hope that it would blind him, but at least it took a bit off his attack accuracy. Not that you could tell from watching the way he swung the hammer. His higher level likely made the -5 mean far less than it did to lower-level monsters.

Finally, he landed a blow that I couldn’t entirely dodge. The extra defense from Inner Power helped, but I still felt my arm shatter. If escape wasn’t an option, then at least I would go down fighting. I cast Regeneration on myself, followed by Frost Rift at Tulbat. I would have liked to repeat whatever that new spell was, but my mind was in too much of a jumble right now to form the same complex mental pattern.

I was certain the frost blast had to hurt, but it couldn’t have shaved more than a sliver off the head warrior’s health. There was nothing more to do but try it again. I cast the spell again, this time targeting Tulbat’s hands. The spell hit with enough force to cause him to drop his hammer and at least partially chill him. The look in his eyes told me that now he was gonna slowly choke me to death rather than crushing me with his hammer.

But then the tables turned. A gray form moving so fast it was little more than a blur pounced on Tulbat. It took me a second, but then I realized this was Shemi’s spirit pet. More than that, I could see that there was a weave of spells all around it. I didn’t know if it was because these were shaman spells or simply something any magical monster could see. Before, as a wizard, I could see magical effects, but only if I had my mage sight active.

The ogre and spirit wolf were soon rolling around on the ground, like a pair of feral beasts. Wolf jaws clamped down on the ogre’s shoulder, trying to work their way to his throat. The muscles in Tulbat’s arms were bulging as he tried first to push the spirit wolf back, then began trying to crush its skull.

As fearsome as the spirit wolf was, there was little doubt in my mind that Tulbat was going to prevail. But then I heard Shemi shouting out spells. I didn’t know their names, but I could feel the power they possessed, which was clearly far beyond my own. One caused a poisonous green substance to sink into Tulbat’s skin. Another covered him in small spores that he seemed to breathe in, and a final spell caused insects to swarm around him. None of the spells impacted the spirit wolf, only targeting the ogre.

His movements became slower, his breathing more labored, and he actually coughed up some blood. Then it was obvious the moment that Tulbat’s rage triggered. He flung the spirit wolf off and stood up, screaming in rage. A streak of energy flashed from Shemi’s hands and struck him square in his chest. The blast seemed to drain away even the power of his rage as he crashed into the ground.

The elderly shaman walked slowly and deliberately to where her fallen foe was. “Gud workz prentice,” she whispered as she passed me. Then, once she was standing over the crippled and weakened head warrior, you could see the magic gathering in her hands for a finishing blow.

But another voice bellowed, “Enough, shaman. Youz haz made point. Youz prentice must be trained. Ghazban village becomez strong if haz two shamanz.”

Then he walked over. His glare pushed Shemi back as effectively as if he had shoved her with his massive hands. He kicked Tulbat in the side. “Weak. Head warrior must be’z strong. But must be smart too. Shamanz make village strong. No morez harm ooglie one or mez killz youz mezself.”

Over the next few minutes, the crowd cleared up, and I watched Shemi speaking with Kerkek. They were too far away for me to hear what they were saying, but it was obvious that they were deep in some sort of planning. Some of the other warriors hauled Tulbat away. I noticed that the two warriors I fought had been completely healed by my magic.

There were several notifications waiting for me, but my mind was racing. I began to see a pattern forming. Shemi had been testing me from the beginning to see if I was strong enough to accomplish what she wanted. She was fighting to get a new place of power for herself in the village. Maybe more than that. Maybe she wanted to get a new place for the outcasts in general. We were only about ten percent of the village, but if all of us were raised to become spell casters, then the power of this village would leap significantly.

I realized I needed to stop underestimating Shemi. She had used me like a pawn to arrange a situation where she could deal with Tulbat. The fight between the two of them likely would have been too close, but by using me to get it started, she was able to claim a decisive victory. It wasn’t lost on me that she didn’t intervene until I had disarmed him. This tribe truly was filled with monsters, except Earth history told me that there were plenty of humans who had acted just like this over the years. The desire for power was great, and the willingness to use the lives of others was all too common. Maybe humans and ogres weren’t as different as I had originally decided.