A Tyrant, Sort Of

It turned out Aylin could handle herself in a fight. The claims hadn’t been all hot air.

Inside the second room—which was similar to the first, though with a different arrangement of decayed cellar items—was another oversized, snarling rat. Ready for the brawl, Aylin took its lunge in stride, sidestepping the leap, and even bashing it on the way, sending it crashing into a flimsy wooden rack. Unlike Sable’s dismissive dispatching, though, the attack only winded the monster, and it had recovered, and was scrambling toward Aylin, in no time at all.

A brutal, efficient melee took place. Sable watched silently, impressed. Sure, Sable  was many, many times stronger than Aylin, even with Aylin’s recently acquired class, but was Sable the more skilled between them?

No. Obviously not. Sable’s new form had come with an ego problem, but the part of her that was still human—the majority, she hoped—recognized that the short green woman who brutally eliminated the snarling rat had mountains more technical ability.

As in, Sable had no skill in combat. She was some girl from Earth. Even a regular rat would’ve been an ordeal. Swordplay? Footwork? Keeping a level head in a life or death fight? In that regard, she was as unskilled as they came. Her enormous form, impervious scales, and upcoming capability to cast spells didn’t change that.

It was a problem. Sable didn’t know what her future held, but some amount of strife, almost certainly. Duels, battles, wars—assuming this new life of hers wasn’t cut off unceremoniously, she’d be seeing some of those. The first certainly, and possibly the next two as well.

By the time Aylin had finished her fight, a solemn mood had settled over Sable. Still, at Aylin’s grin and flushed excitement, Sable inclined her head in acknowledgment. She preened under that. Sable found it somewhat amusing Aylin looked to her for approval. When it came to battle prowess, she was the last person to be seeking respect from. Though obviously Aylin didn’t know her for a fraud.

Not that Sable was beaten up about it or anything. It was more of a reminder that she had a while to go when it came to defending herself. She’d have to take her magic training—when it came—seriously. And other sorts of combat practice, too.

“Should I get the next ones, also?” Aylin asked, resting her sword on her shoulder. “Figure I’m going to be useless lower down, so this’s my only chance to do anything.”

The silent request was clear enough: ‘Please?’

[Very well. Keep it going.]

Aylin grinned, then nodded and turned. Taking the instruction to heart, she set off expeditiously for the next doorway. Sable trailed behind, inspecting the gruesome remains of the cut-open rat. Human Sable’s stomach would’ve turned, but in her new form, she felt a vague unease, but otherwise wasn’t affected. What did that say about her? Was she even her anymore? It felt like it. The core of her remained, but she’d also changed in some ways.

Or maybe she was just better at adapting than she’d have thought. That was certainly a possibility.

A series of vicious encounters later—and another tripped hallway trap that only tickled Sable—Aylin was panting and, despite trying not to seem it, getting tired. Nonstop fighting, even only a few rooms of it, took its toll. That was the reality of combat. Her class had improved her endurance, but only to an extent.

[How strong do people get, anyway?] Sable asked, the brief contemplation on her and Aylin’s combat abilities prompting the question. [Upper limit. What’s out there?]

Aylin took the question in stride. “As in, people people?”

Sable tilted her head in confusion.

“Well,” Aylin said, sheathing her sword and letting her shield hang to her side. “What I mean is, some of the worst started out as people, but whether they could be called that still, maybe not so much.”

Aylin seemed grateful she’d been given a moment to catch her breath. Sable pretended not to notice. It hadn’t been her intent, starting a dialogue, but she was happy to provide it. She had to come off as uncaring and a taskmaster for the sake of her reputation, but she didn’t actually want to be a poor commander. She just had to be sneaky about how she was considerate.

[Entities, then.] She wanted a feel for how ‘grand’ things became. Basically, what kinds of threats were out there. It sounded like dragons were a big deal, so if she drew the wrong attention, how bad could it be?

“Walking calamities,” Aylin said breezily, deflating Sable’s probably nonsensical hope. “The Reaper turned a fifth of the continent in a festering wasteland and has been waging war against all living creatures for close to six centuries. Apparently, she was human once. Guess she’d be the upper end for what constitutes ‘strongest’, and she’s kind of a person.”

[And how about what isn’t considered people?]

“Stuff like the Keepers,” Aylin said.

[And what are those?]

Aylin seemed briefly puzzled for how to put it. “The Keepers. They stop people from … breaking things.”

[Breaking things?]

“Reality.” Aylin shrugged. “With how many powerful mages are out there, the world would be a giant … unstable, cosmic stew, if the Keepers weren’t around.”

That was a colorful way to put it. And, the revelation that people could ‘mess with reality’ was fascinating. Though, such magic was prevented by a ‘Keeper’?

[But what are they?]

“Well … I don’t know. They’re the Keepers.”

[Physically.]

“What they look like? Gods. I don’t know. I think you’d die just trying to looking at them. If they even have physical forms.”

So, yeah, deities of a sort. Those existed? For that matter, was this just folk lore? Was the previously mentioned ‘Reaper’, too? Relying on a goblin from a random, isolated tribe for valid information on the world at large seemed like a dubious strategy at best.

Though, still interesting. And at a minimum, it confirmed that she had to watch herself. She couldn’t slink around in secret because of her notoriety requirement, but at the same time, she needed to avoid drawing too much attention. There were, as she’d already figured, things out there that could evaporate her with a thought.

[I see,] Sable said. Then, she gestured down the hall. [Please, continue.]

She was interested in learning more about the world, and not only because it would be important for her continued survival, but they also had short-term plans. Those goblins guarding the dungeon they’d sent scurrying away might eventually come back with reinforcements. And while Sable doubted Aylin’s clan had any warriors that could pose a real threat to her—something Aylin seemed confident in too—she’d rather not be put into a confrontation.

Because what would she do, if that happened? Would she kill them?

Obviously not. But hurt them? Fight back at all?

How was she going to handle conflict? It would be coming, eventually. She couldn’t hide from it forever. At a minimum, her plans included carving out a ‘domain’. How would she defend her subjects from opposing forces? Or even forces that intended to kill her. Surely she wouldn’t have moral qualms fighting for her life?

Troubling thoughts. She pushed them away. She could afford to do that for a while longer. For now, dungeons, loot, and establishing a foothold in the world. Killing mutated monsters, at least, came with no moral agonies.

Though, secretly, the answer to “would she fight for her or her people’s lives?” came with uncomfortable ease. She shied from it, but the answer was glaringly ‘yes’.

Doing as instructed, Aylin set off through a doorway. “Gonna find the descent any time now,” she said idly. “From there, I figure you’ll take over. I’m handling myself, but difficulty’s supposed to get rougher and rougher, each level down. And even this is tough.”

That was fine. Though by the standards of the first level, she was doubting whether it’d ever pose a real challenge. At a guess, probably not. This was more of a leveling and sight-seeing expedition than anything.