A lone figure clad in a mixture of white and red clothing and wearing an ornate mask that covered its whole head walked lazily along the well worn road leading up to the slaver’s paradise that bore the name Eden’s Crater. Although the clothes of the humanoid being showed off that said being likely was quite wealthy, no highwaymen or bandits had approached it during its travels from where it had come to this place it was currently at. As the entity stared at the large multi-layered and highly defensible singular entrance to this quite literal pit of despair, said being wondered internally at the sheer malice portrayed in every single object that the gate and walls had attached to them.
All along the path leading up to the entryway, there were markers that showed the slaves that came and left this place exactly what their fate would be should they decide to resist. Large birdcages covered in barbs and spikes held the broken remains of those who were stuffed inside to starve or resort to cannibalism to survive for just that bit longer. Long since dead bodies hung on crucifixes and the horribly mangled remains of those who were beaten day after day as they were shackled out in the elements painted a clear picture as to who the people residing in this den of sin and vice happened to be and what their views on other, less fortunate people were as well.
The great stench of the dead, dying and the mutilated hung in the air like a weighted blanket draped on the body of a young child, but Vaile had experienced something far, far worse in the cosmically not so distant past. As horrible as the odor here along the path to Eden’s Crater was, it had nothing on the rank and fetid stench of the Rattan Under-Empire, which, along with the fact that he didn’t want to be trapped and used as a stud horse for the rest of his life by crazy rat women, made up a decent portion of the reasons why he fully intended to flee from them at every possible chance whenever or wherever they showed up.
“Oy! Numb nuts! Get ya fuckin ass in gear!”
Vaile looked over his shoulder at the Werean who yelled at him and was surprised to see something he did not expect. Sure, the Werean had sub-races for every major mammal, bird and reptile on Earth, more or less, but Vaile had not expected a Rat Werean to actually be a thing. He honestly had expected that the Rattan would have genocided the ‘Fake Rattan’ from existence, but here one was, yelling at him in a thick New Yorker accent.
“Move da fuck outa da fuckin way, ya fuckin douchebag! You fuckin want I should fuckin smack ya upside da head fuckin and knock some fuckin sense inta ya?!”
Vaile, miffed at being yelled at, walked up to the Werean and planted a foot between his legs, causing every other male in the vicinity who saw, including the gate guards, to unconsciously flinch as the dumb bastard fell to his knees, a small, whining sound exiting his lips vaguely sounding like the single-word question “Why?”
Vaile did not bother giving an answer and simply began to walk towards the gates, readying himself for the challenge ahead. He would have to act rather quickly, as the more he delayed his actions the more time the Bestiral Kingdom had to discover the movements of the unified Beastmen Tribes. After his previous display and a harsh glare at the guards, Vaile was allowed entry.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
It seemed that, in order to be allowed in, you needed to have a certain kind of roughness, and Vaile’s unmerciful crushing of the poor Werean’s family jewels fit the bill. Besides, he doubted the Werean would have been allowed entry to begin with, and sending him back with shattered ‘nads was, in some ways, better than having his empty bravado destroyed by the guards. Despite what some would claim, incessant use of expletives constantly does not make you a tough guy.
…
As Vaile walked through the streets, he made sure to occasionally drop some dust he had in his inventory along the ground. It was, by the eyes of the Werean who ruled the roost here, nothing special, but to those who knew what the substance was, it would have caused serious concern. Vaile made rounds upon rounds, depositing more and more of the dust that was slowly being absorbed into the ground and air and water in greater and greater quantities until…
“RRRAAAAAAAAAARRRGHHHG!”
The sound of a Beastman roaring in mindless rage echoed through the immediate area that Vaile was in. This was followed shortly by yet more wrathful bellowing noises that quickly turned the bustling streets that were once filled with slavers and merchants doing their dirty business into a scene out of the apocalypse. The slave collars and binding runes that had been intended to keep the merchandise in line seemingly had no effect anymore as the Beastmen and other ‘monsters’ that were collared and chained rampaged uncontrollably, sending structures crumbling to the ground and the Werean and their customers running for their lives.
Vaile looked around at the carnage that was occurring around him and made his way to the walls that towered over thirty-five meters above his head. As the Races ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, with some quite literally missing their heads, Vaile backed up and made a running tackle through the wall segment in front of him. Before the power of a level 1000 Player, the flimsy mixture of stone and mortar was nothing much, although he was glad that he was able to breathe through his mask as the dust and debris that filled the air after his stunt was enough to make choke a man to death.
Rather than stopping there, Vaile ran out through the gap he had created and began to tackle back and forth through the wall, going into the settlement through the wall and back outside of it through another new hole his body created. His build was not a Tank or DPS build by any stretch of the imagination, but as a max-level player, he was, comparatively, built like a proverbial brick shithouse in comparison to the weak little baby men around him. After a few more runs through the wall, the affected segments of the barrier could not hold their own weight and collapsed into a pile of rubble. At seeing this, Vaile took out an event item that he had lying around and taking up space in his inventory and shot off a firework into the sky. At this signal, the Beastman forces rushed across the open ground from their hiding places, having taken full advantage of the knowledge of ‘Ghillie Suits’ that Vaile had imparted upon them to creep closer than they normally would have been able to.
Vaile watched as the Chimera-like Barbarian Furries ran towards their target with the intent to cause death and destruction among the people they hated. Vaile watched from his position as the gate guards and city defense forces went from panicking about the rampaging slaves and pets inside to freaking the fuck out about the Beastman army careening towards them from outside and the horrible idea that the two might link up and destroy them all. He could feel the rage from within and from without, and with an intentional shift in his normal speaking voice, he cackled before yelling out to all that would listen.
“Good! Good! Let the Hate flow though you!”