Chapter Seven: The Stench of the Drunkard Eel

The first thing that Ivak woke to was the face of Fatho Gubbluk. It was not a pleasant thing to wake to. In particular the single tusk jutting down from behind the whiskered flabby upper lip was particularly unnerving, as were the greenish crablike mouthparts. The nose didn’t help either, being only a bit shorter than the lone tusk.

There horrors of the face didn’t really end there. The grey eyes were of different sizes, one being a large dish with a rectangular pupil this eye lazily revolved about. The other eye was on a stalk but rather than being beady was like the eye of a human. The skin was mottled pinkish grey green, at least where there was skin rather than carapace. A pair of long antenna swept back over his slick brown hair.

Understandably enough, Ivak screamed.

Fatho Gubbluk drew back and laughed, a curious bubbling noise. “Well I’d probably scream too if someone with a mug like mine was the first thing I saw in the morning, specially if I didn’t have me mug”

Claroosa was to one side of Fatho, not looking at all concerned by her master’s distress.

“Are you all right milord? This is Fatho Gubbluk, he shall be finding our thief for us”

Ivak composed himself, looking around catching sight of poor cloaked people, some of them seemed amused. They were back in the Rubbles clearly.

“Yes, no, I mean… can we speak a moment” Ivak said.

“Of course, milord, we can speak at any time, I do believe all those parts still work for both of us” she answered glibly.

“No, I uh” Ivak looked at Fatho nervously “I mean kind of privately”

Fatho smiled benevolently, or at least in Fatho’s mind this is what he did, the result was bared mouth parts and wriggling whiskers.

Fatho backed off and started up a conversation with one of the residents of the Rubbles about clams.

Claroosa, walked over to Ivak as he beckoned. Ivak turned his back on Fatho, Claroosa did likewise. Ivak glanced back worriedly, Fatho gave a friendly wave, not noticing the person he had been speaking to had taken the chance to run off.

“He’s one of them!”

“How observant of you milord, he is indeed one of the thieves of the Lords and Ladies of the Hands” Claroosa said, though she was frowning, thinking how to deal with what she knew was coming next.

“No, I mean he’s one of the tainted! You know I mean that!” Ivak said.

The tainted; reviled, feared, hated, coveted, hunted, exploited. The tainted is what many call those in the world of Kigan who have the blood, sap, fluids or whatever of at least three races flowing through them, or not flowing as the case may be. Much of the bile directed at these crossbreeds is unwarranted.

There is however a root to the bigotry. It isn’t uncommon for the tainted to reap great benefits of their mixed blood, but what many fail to remember it is just as common or perhaps more so for them to receive the weaknesses of their races. Some tainted live up to their reputation of unstable minds and violent tendencies. The actions of one or two are frequently used to paint the whole.

Many rumours abound about tainted, such as that they attract evil spirits, that they are prone to possession, that they are cursed from birth. What is not such a rumour, is that due to rumours like these, the tainted often find themselves driven to less… wholesome paths. Apart from anything else it is easy to be a monster, if everyone already thinks you are one.

Fatho Gubbluk was perhaps one of the more unfortunate tainted. About the only blessing he got from his heritage was that he had pretty good natural defences. He had gained neither looks nor power. He was hunchbacked, his bulky rotund form straining against his white fur jacket. The jacket was certainly of finer quality than Fatho himself, it occasionally let off dust of flamesparks, but they were ethereal. It was likely the long tailed jacket had some manner of heating enchantment upon it. Poking out from the end of the jacket was a green carapaced tail, it was apart from having shell, much like the rear end of a walrus.

His limbs were twisted, along with his spindly too thin looking legs stuffed in brown leathery breeches and silvery scaly boots were an odd number of green crablegs too short to walk with, they twitched in the air sometimes hitting his jacket from within or flexing outside it. His left forearm bulged out, but did not end in a pincer, this hand was a bit flipper like. The other was more regular a limb and hand, though the thumb and index finger formed a more claw-like shaping.

Some tainted managed to have an exotic beauty to them. Fatho was not among their number.

“What of him being of mixed blood?” Claroosa said, she was imagining all the things Ivak had read over the years. She hadn’t really been expecting this, but she supposed, that Ivak had not encountered any tainted before this point. There was no tainted in House Vulk.

“They’re dangerous!” Ivak said.

Claroosa gave Ivak a flat stare.

“So am I, so is the High Crest, Yagmalral is definitely dangerous, anyone can be dangerous milord, besides, he is contracted to us, he will not break that”

Ivak sneaked a nervous glance at Fatho again. He was eating some dried eel, without using his hands. Ivak quickly looked away.

“What if he gets possessed?”

“Then I shall beat the spirit out of him milord”

Ivak sighed. Ivak did not bear any hatred for tainted. He had however read about a lot of famous and imfamous tainted, so he was a bit scared. He supposed however that if Fatho was truly dangerous he’d not be spending his time helping aehi nobility to catch a thief.

“Right. Ok, we just need him to find the thief. Then we can get my artefact back and we can go home”

“Just right milord” Claroosa said, she hoped that exposure to tainted would improve Ivak’s view of them. Then she remembered that Fatho was a thief. So much for that idea. She supposed then that getting the artefact back and carefully suggesting certain books for reading when they eventually got back to House Vulk would work better.

Ivak spun around, and strode up to Fatho Gubbluk a crooked smile on his face, with a hand degloved outstretched for a handshake. For his troubles he received a putrid burp in the face.

“Oh, pardon me, you should be careful approaching someone so quickly, specially after that person’s gone done eaten some dried drunkard eel. Drunkard eels give some fierce bad wind they do, why this one time the stink managed to save me from a grisly fate of being eaten alive by a pack wild aculok, dreadful creatures, what with their shifting form to chase you on land or sea. To be honest I was surprised the smell got to them, given what their wet fur smelt like. Well, I was glad to be spared from their bladed jaws and being drug into the sea”

Fatho paused, looking at the stricken Ivak, who was very much wishing he was at home, and wondering why he had to go through this sort of thing. Having your life threatened while questing was one thing, if you lived you could brag about it a bit, but getting struck with stunning stench was something you could bear to recount, especially not with how stomach curdling the smell was. The monologuing just added insult to the injury.

Fatho grasped Ivak’s hand, it was with the pincer one. It kind of pinched, this did not stop Fatho from shaking it vigorously.

“Well, sorry about that again, You know my name and I know yours, but there’s no reason we can’t be right proper about things, I’m Fatho Gubbluk”

“I’m Ivakilnah DuVulk” Ivak said, hoping to disengage from the crippling handshake, he would like to not have to get new fingers he had heard that parts are never quite the same after being healed.

Fatho relented, Ivak nursed his throbbing hand.

“So” Ivak began “How shall you be finding the thief?”

“I’m a thief of people’s sense of direction” Fatho explained. “Over the years I’ve stolen so much of the sense of direction that mine is going to become ascendant one of these days”

“What a strange thing to steal, how did you come to that?, if you don’t mind me asking” Ivak said, his curiosity lit.

Fatho shrugged.

“I used to have a terrible sense of direction, and I got sick of getting lost.”

Claroosa got the feeling there was a lot more behind that statement.

“Also people can survive with a fairly bad sense of direction, so it can take quite a bit without hurting people much. You’d be surprised at how much you can get for a bit of it, been told by magicans I’ve sold to that it has all kinds of useful applications. Now, with the details I’ve been given, I’m sure I can find this thief of yours”

Fatho closed his eyes. He went completely still. Ivak ended up shuffling nervously, kicking a bit of snow lumped here and there, while Claroosa just patiently watched.

Shortly Fatho opened his eyes, and then scuttled resolutely back into town. He led them through Welterine, the streets were quiet, it was getting late in the day, Ollan and Vlahros were getting low in the horizon.

After a short walk, Fatho stopped in front of an Inn called “The Bent Harpoon”. Above the sign that said this was a great harpoon rusty and encrusted with barnacles.

“Is this where the thief is?” Ivak asked hopefully.

Fatho shook his head.

“Nah the thief is somewhere really far away, so I thought we’d shack up for the night and head after in the morning”

“Really far way? But… ah” Ivak realised something “She must be in the castle”

“Precisely my lord, I shall arrange for our accomidations.” With that, Claroosa strode in.

Fatho gave Ivak a clap on the back that nearly sent him falling.

“Chin up mate, We’ll catch this thief no problem, just you see” Fatho followed Claroosa in.

Ivak sighed. He had been so pleased when it had looked like he would be able to buy his artefact and just return home. He guessed it had been too good to be true. Then he too entered the inn, ready to sleep the events of the day away.