A Tyrant, Sort Of

Goblins panicked beneath her, small dots bursting into a flurry like a kicked ant pile. Sable’s arrival had brought, as expected, total chaos. Terror permeated the air so thickly she could swear she tasted it.

Sable could get used to the experience.

She wasn’t submitting to her more savage set of instincts, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy some questionable things on occasion. Namely, the delectable horror of a frantic group of panicking mortals. She wasn’t hurting them; her enjoyment was just a bit of indulgence. Everyone deserved some of that.

And maybe she’d throw in a tiny bit of fire? Just to spice things up? Really get everyone’s blood pumping?

Maybe even a bite-sized snack or two?

That was a joke. The first two had been actual instincts of hers, but, appealing as the ideas sounded, Sable circled the tiny stockaded village, roaring and keeping them occupied, but otherwise refraining from indulging her new set of instincts. She kept a particular eye on the house Aylin had slipped into. As an airborne predator of legendary origin, she had incredible eyesight; even far above, she could monitor the goblin girl easily.

***

Notoriety: Progressed from UNKNOWN to OBSCURE

***

Oh. That easy, huh?

Did the experience debuff drop to fifty percent, like her hoard stat had? Or some other number?

***

~ Notoriety ~

You are OBSCURE. Your name spreads, whispers of power and the return of bloodthirsty beasts once thought hunted to legend. But it is your ancestors’ legacy that runs blood cold, not your own. This must be corrected. It must be your name that becomes synonymous to dread. Too few fear the shadows that pass overhead, and it will be you that rectifies this.

[ 50% REDUCTION TO EXPERIENCE GAIN ]

***

Sable should have thought it through. She knew that inspecting [Hoard] and [Notoriety] brought a mind-influencing effect, a surge of violent emotions even more powerful than her typical instincts. And she was flying over a goblin village—so frail and defenseless—while terrorizing them.

Nauseous, she fought away the urge to swoop down and manifest the notification’s suggestions to reality. The desire to do so was physical and almost overwhelming. Alone in the wilderness, the system’s influence had been simple to shrug away. A disorienting effect that had passed in moments. But circling fleeing, terrified goblins, when the effect hit her?

She resisted. To actually swoop down and hurt innocents warred with her human-self simply too much to follow through. But it was closer than she’d have preferred.

She had to be careful where and when she did that. And she’d inspected the status for essentially no benefit. Just out of curiosity. Checking an in-the-moment irrelevant debuff.

Sloppy. She could’ve gotten people hurt. Been the one to hurt them.

As she flew circles around the village, she faced no retaliation. No arrows pelted up, bouncing harmlessly off her scales. Maybe they didn’t want to antagonize her. She was only circling them, letting out an ear-shattering, guttural sequence of roars, but clearly not actually attacking. They recognized that, maybe?

Some of the small green creatures were organizing, she could see, and were armed—but not pointing them at her. They weren’t pointlessly annoying a beast of legend. Smart. More collected of a reaction than she’d expected. These goblins were primitive, yes, but still disciplined and intelligent. Very separate things.

She watched Aylin slip out of the house she had entered, then flee across the village. A bundle of scrolls was tucked underneath her arm. She headed toward the gate she’d come in, where the post had been abandoned. The village was, reasonably, in chaos, and that extended to the gate guards.

Inappropriately, she admitted the sheer terror she spectated from above was a bit funny. The similarity to a kicked anthill was uncanny. Even the more organized warriors were in chaos.

Aylin made it out, then slipped into the forest. Satisfied, Sable pulled away, leaving the panicked village to their spiced-up afternoon.

Nothing like a bit of adrenaline to get through the post-lunch haze, huh?

No need to thank her.

***

Aylin was pretty sure she wasn’t allowed to find anything her mistress did funny. People weren’t supposed to be amused by dragons. They were beasts of legends, horror stories told around a campfire. So, amused by one? Never.

Especially Sable. She was challenging many conceptions that Aylin had about dragons, but the prickly and arrogant part? Not that one. She wasn’t quite as … bloodthirsty as she’d expected, but in most other regards, she was a dragon, through and through.

So. Not allowed to be amused by her. That was a good way to end up eaten, part of the thrall or not.

But seeing a giant, majestic, scaled creature of legend hunched over a spread-out parchment, studying a map and humming to herself.

It just looked odd, okay? Odd things were funny.

Especially coming down from the adrenaline of the previous hour.

Had she really robbed the clan? The Elders? Logically, she knew her life had changed irreversibly, and that sort of transgression meant nothing now, but still. If she’d still been in the clan, that sort of crime would end up with banishment.

And what if Sable chose not to keep her?

That would be awkward.

She tried not to think about the possibility. She would convince Sable that she was worth keeping. Even if to a creature like her—a dragon—a goblin was less than useless. Her in specific, too. The only things Aylin had to offer were what anyone could. General, every-day knowledge, which Sable lacked, being freshly born and all.

Though, Sable also had a weird wealth of knowledge in certain areas. Not wholly lacking common knowledge. Which made Aylin even less valuable.

That would change if and when she got a class, but who knew when that would be?

But back to the point.

The most dangerous creature of lore, hunched over maps and humming to herself.

What did Sable need the maps for, anyway? Was she studying their surroundings? Strategizing something? Probably. But what?

Her mistress did seem to be a thinker. Maybe one without enough information to be making perfect decisions, but she wasn’t barreling into things, either. Thinking them over.

Which wasn’t a trait she would have figured a dragon would possess, considering their reputation, and more than that, their overwhelming strength and near imperviousness to death. Even weakened by only having a tiny, nearly non-existent hoard, Sable had to be one of the strongest creatures in the Rustling Woodlands. Go north, or up to the Peaks, or … well, any direction, and that would change, but always strong, even when not the strongest.

What was she puzzling over, though?

Sable didn’t like being questioned on her exact plans, Aylin had discovered. Which was unfortunate, because Aylin had so many questions. Everything about her mistress’s existence was befuddling. How, despite being freshly born, she seemed to have a whole set of memories … how, despite being a dragon, she seemed mostly level-headed … and, most of all, why she hadn’t attacked the clan. Which would have been an easy way to collect a hoard, no doubt, now that she’d pushed past her initial debuff and would be safe from retaliation. The clan had a few warriors—some of them classed—but of dragon-slaying quality? Even a juvenile one? Obviously not.

Was that what the maps were for, then? Picking a different target? A clan that wasn’t Aylin’s?

That would be both relieving and unsettling. Relieving because it wouldn’t be her clan, and unsettling for the obvious reason. War and conquest were the ways of the world—of course Aylin knew that—but there was a difference between two clans brawling it out and a dragon swooping down and razing a village, then scooping up anything of worth.

It was an impossible hope, but maybe that wasn’t Sable’s plan?

She was a dragon. Aylin shouldn’t try to fool herself. That she’d spared Aylin’s clan had already stretched her wildest hopes.

But maybe?

How did she get information without being too obvious?

“So,” Aylin said casually. “Pick a target yet?”

She winced, both from the lack of subtlety and, in retrospect, that maybe it wasn’t the best approach. Maybe she shouldn’t put the idea into Sable’s head, on the off-chance razing villages hadn’t been her intention.

A deep rumbling noise shook the air, summoned from within the great beast’s chest. Sable had a few of those hums. This one was her passive one. A noise of idle consideration. The menacing one—when she was displeased—made the hair on the back of her neck rise. Obviously. A displeased dragon … what use were instincts, if they didn’t set off alarm bells at that?

[Target,] Sable repeated. [Perhaps. The clans to the north are sparse. Why?]

It had worked. She’d opened a dialogue.

But the northern clans? “It’s tougher to live up there,” Aylin said. “There’s fewer of them, but they’re larger. And stronger.” The second part grated on her a bit, but it was true. “More classed warriors. Higher leveled. Some of them are strong. I’d be careful.”

A serpentine head turned, leveling a menacing gaze her way.

Aylin swallowed. Sable wasn’t pleased at the implication she could be harmed. “Just as a fair warning,” Aylin said. “Since I’m an adviser, of sorts?” It was a reasonable reaction from a dragon, being prideful creatures, but she’d thrown her lot in with the creature, so her success was Aylin’s. Her failures, too. It needed to be said.

[I see. You think I need to grow stronger before conquering them?]

That was the confirmation of her earlier thoughts, then. Sable was seeking out targets for pillaging. “It would be smartest, I believe.” Then, to soften the blow, she tacked on, “Great One.”

[Yes, that’s probably true,] Sable said, looking back to the maps. [Approaching from a position of power is always wise. How irritating. Especially for my plans. It would be much easier to raze them and take what I wish.]

Huh?

“That’s not what you’re planning?”

[No,] Sable said. [It would be a short-term boon, but not the most efficient choice. A slaughtered cow produces value immediately, but over the years, a much higher yield can be gained.] She hummed. [No, I intend to dominate and unite these clans of yours. Ransacking gives short term value, but the real money is in kingdom building.] She paused. [Or, I suppose, kingdom stealing.]

Aylin digested that.

So she didn’t plan on ravaging the northern clans. Though she only knew of them in a peripheral manner, she was still relieved. She didn’t wish ill on other people. If it was her clan or theirs, the choice would be easy, but she didn’t wish a rampaging dragon on them, either.

[Besides,] Sable said idly. [The milked cow can always be slaughtered later. I suppose that is the most efficient path. But for now, the first half will suffice.]