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Chapter 4 by Nemo of Utopia Nemo of Utopia

Do I get the drop on the rat?

Nah, it got the drop on ME.

Suddenly I hear faint battle music in the back of my head, no idea what was causing it at the time, but I learned later this is fairly common in this world, about half of all sapient creatures hear thier own personal combat music once "join battle" has been initiated. Before I can process the music, the rat dives for me, fangs out and screeching for blood. I only barely manage to block it with my forearm and it bites down, hard. "DAMN THAT HURT!" I exclaim which is a reasurnace that I'll be able to talk in this new form, which I'd not tried out yet because of the dwarf woman's presence, and by eavining silence had already become a newforming habit.

I can feel myself start bleeding, but I power through the pain and whip out my "war tentacles" covered in interlocking topless thimble shaped armor scales with needle like spikes coming out of the middle band and a back clip knife blade for a cockhead. It doesn't take long at all for me to stab the big rat to **** with these tools and then cut its jaw off my arm, after which I sit down to the disgusting task of skinning it, gutting it, and preping the carcas for transportation. I may now be some sort of hell-spawned monster, but I have standards, and I'm not immediately going to stoop to eating raw ratflesh. Before I can go however the rat's two smaller cousins slink out of the grain bin and try to leave, which I quickly no-sell with a sharp stab through the brainpan with a pair of war tentacles. (I created seven, and as predicted only two were able to connect, but also as predicted, it was enough.) I skin and gut them too, then collect my winnings and head back out of town, leaving the offal for those as might want it, like a cat, perhaps, except for the brains, which I take with me to attempt to tan the rat fur for later use.

As I leave this hamlet along one of the roads I keep my eyes pealed for a chunk of flint or obsidian. Fortunately, I spot it less than a mile outside the enclosure, an old stone arrow-head lying in the ditch. Near the cave I stop at a small stand of trees and gather dry leaves, twigs, kindling, and a few Falen branches, then I head up to the cave, carrying my bundle of sticks and other burdens with a tentacle like an elephant trunk sprouted out of my back. As I travel into and through the cave I look out for dried grass or moss, and find some relatively close to the entrance, a patch of dry moss on one wall. Once I'm deep enough Into the cave that I'm sure no one will spot the fire's tell-tale glow, I pull out the small piece of flint I found on the path between the cave and the village and arange my material to start the fire. Striking the flint with one of my war-tentacles, i scatter sparks over the dry moss, and coax it to a smoulder, then add leaves and twigs slowly and carefully to ignite a flame. Bit by bit I carefully build it up until I can put the three chunks I've made out of the big branch of Birchwood I gathered back at the copse of trees into the flames and and have it burn, then I set the three rats cooking, and wait, turning them occasionally.

My belly filled with the admittedly greasey and repulsive meat, I settled down to sleep until dawn, planing to work on further steps toward world domination in the morning.

What does the dawn bring?

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