Chapter Forty-Five

Problems with Minimal Pairs

Chibot was awakened around mid-night by an earthquake taking a casual stroll through his camp. It was, he recognized, the impact of footfalls that had jarred him awake and nearly shaken him out of his bedroll. There was only one thing that it could be. The ogre had arrived earlier than expected.

Naked and unafraid, Chibot stood and opened the flap to his tent. He could already see the monstrous figure of the ogre called Bannedgeik. He stood at least twelve feet high, but was hunched over as he walked, which meant that he probably had another foot or two of height hidden by his posture. He looked flabby, all belly and pudgy baby-like arms and legs, but Chibot knew that there was muscle hidden under that soft-looking flesh; muscles that could crunch stone into powder with the simple act of making a fist. Bannedgeik had a full head of long stringy hair that was so greasy that it looked like the ogre had just stepped from a lake. The bandit leader knew that wasn’t the case as the beast’s body odor preceded it by ten feet, even against the wind.

It was a repugnant stench that smelled of carrion, spoiled milk, and hot vomit. It was so strong that Chibot’s eyes watered and he gagged involuntarily. The ogre was practically handsome, as monsters went. His face was minimally pockmarked with very few scars, and only one tooth poked up from the lip attached to the oversized jawline. Bannedgeik was dressed in the traditional ogre garb, which amounted to a worn loincloth made of deer hide, tarnished metal wrist bands that were as thick as one of Chibot’s own fingers, and a pair of leather caligae on his feet.

His appearance was as inspiring as it was grotesque. The town, no matter how well defended, no matter how many bodies they had carrying weapons, would collapse at the sight of the thing that approached the bandit leader. Chibot had only decided to call on the ogre because he saw no reason that he should endanger himself fighting the man called Tooth. He nodded to himself, certain that he had made the right choice. The ogre would be able to handle at least twenty men on his own, and by that Chibot meant well-seasoned professional warriors, not the farmers and former adventurers who took a hammer to their toe, and his singular target was the man called Tooth. Tooth was a dead man.

Chibot watched the ogre come to him. For a being so big and bulky his movements were fluid and graceful. Bannedgeik would never be a prima ballerina, but the creature could dodge and avoid blows most things its size would find impossible to evade. Chibot respected the monster for its raw power. There were few things in this world that could match an ogre in raw strength, and whenever a lone man went toe to toe with one of Bannedgeik’s kind the human invariably lost. That was discounting the use of magic swords or other such cheats. If they were used then the human’s odds could rise as high as fifty-fifty, but generally never made it more than sixty-forty in favor of the ogre even then. Chibot really wanted to watch the ogre pulp the mysterious Mister Tooth into jelly, but he would in charge of all the looting and pillaging that would be going on.

Bannedgeik stopped before the nude man and grunted. The sound managed to chill Chibot’s hot blood. He felt a shiver run up his spine and then, finding no escape, returned the way it came fleeing his body as his colon spasmed and expelled gas in what most people would term as a silent but deadly bit of wind. The ogre did not notice the new smell. Chibot doubted that it would notice the stench of a rotting deer carcass but still prayed that the beast did not take offense to his involuntary act of wind breaking. Bannedgeik eyed the bandit leader and raised a brow.

“I must say tat I appreciate your efforts to assure me tat you carry no weapons for our first meeting,” Bannedgeik said eloquently. “Few beings have a modicum of decency about tem. For tis display of solidarity and openness, I have decided to spare you and your men. Once tis nasty business is concluded, and I assume control of the area known as Goulcrest I shall allow you all to leave wit watever you can carry from the smoldering ruins.”

Chibot had not expected an intelligent ogre, the speech impediment he could understand. Few monsters took the time to learn a language and the few who did often had trouble with certain sounds. It seemed that Bannedgeik could not pronounce the TH sound. He found it funny that so powerful a tool of destruction was beaten by such a simple sound, not that he would ever admit that to the ogre, and in the long run it would make no difference at all to anyone but Chibot.

“I thank you for your generosity, then, Great Bannedgeik. As do my men and the others who will be fighting with us.” Chibot was about as sincere in his gratitude as he had ever been in is life.

“Quite. Am I to understand tat tere is one man tat you want me to kill before I enjoy myself destroying the town?” Bannedgeik stared over Chibot in the direction of Goulcrest.

“Yessir,” Chibot replied quickly and then subconsciously covered himself with his hands. “His name is Tooth, and he has been giving my employer, and my spies,” he muttered as he thought of Farmer Ted, “Difficulties for some time. We think he needs to be disciplined by a Bannedhammer. You were pointed out as being perfect for the task,” Chibot added the compliment hastily at the end hoping to stay on the ogre’s not wanting to kill him side. Ogres did not have good sides.

“It is interesting. Did you know tat in the ancient Argreecian tongue, of which te name Goulcrest stems, the C actually makes an S sound, meaning that the town; which was once a city, was a place tat was home to countless undead. Ghoul’s Rest was ruled by a powerful lich whose hunger to rule was cut short by the rise of the Empire. Legend say that the lich was never found and still haunts the land to tis day.”

“I did not know that,” Chibot admitted.

“Doesn’t matter eiter way, I suppose,” Bannedgeik said casually. “Soon it will be mine.”

“When will you be leaving,” the bandit asked gingerly. He didn’t want to make it seem like he wanted the ogre out of his camp. Ogres could be very touchy about perceive offenses.

“I plan on entering the town at mid-day. I shall call out tis Toot fellow, and smash him with my ham-sized fists.” The ogre, seeming to lose interest in their conversation and walked off towards Goulcrest while muttering the word, “Toot, toot, toot. I’m going to smash him under my boot.”

Chibot opted not to watch the monster vanish into the darkness of the night and instead turned back into his tent to get dressed. He had just managed to pull a shirt over his head when he heard the ogre roar, for the first time acting like the monster it was. The bellow echoed into the night and lasted far longer than normal sound would have.

“Toooooooooooooot!”