The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

The harsh screams drew Coin in like a moth to a flame, sending jolts of ice cold dread shooting down the length of his back. He didn't know what he was racing toward, ducking and weaving through trash strewn backstreets, but he knew deep in his soul that it was something awful.

He rounded a corner and skidded to a stop, just in time to see a trio of burly men looming over a trembling figure. Even through the growing murk of oncoming night, Coin could see Essine's tail twitching nervously where she lay.

The ingredients she had bought were strewn about on the ground beside her, blood staining the edges of her muzzle. Coin froze in place, gripped by a sensation he'd never known before. A sense he never could have articulated as a monster.

A cocktail of fear, disgust, and white hot fury.

One of the men turned, regarding Coin beneath the brim of his grimy cap. "Ah, jus' some toff from the Merchant's," he muttered. "You needn't worry mate. We're just showin' this rat what we think of her kind."

Coin took a step forward. From where she lay, Essine managed to look him in the eye. He saw the fear in her garnet orbs, the pain and pleading, calling out to him without even saying a word.

"Get away from her," Coin abruptly said, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Another of the man, older and hunched compared to his peered, snorted and rounded on Coin. He held a club of gnarled wood in his hands, the stiff breeze rustling the frayed material of his coat. "What are you, some kind of rat lover?"

"I won't ask again."

The first man clicked his tongue. "Or what?" He turned fully toward Coin, emphasizing the sheer difference in height and mass between them. "Look at you. You think a pathetic thing like you can order us around?"

Coin clenched his jaw tight. He wanted, in that moment, to cut loose. To show that oaf what he was really up against. But, even in his furious state, he knew better than to do so. He could get away with doing so to bandits on an empty road, but there would plenty of witnesses in the city.

But, more than that, he wanted to appear human as much as he could. And the idea of Essine seeing him as he was... the thought alone made him uneasy.

The third man ran a hand over his bald, sweating head. "Fine. I ain't against beatin' the tar out of a rat and a rat lover at the same time." He turned, advancing on Coin and casting a broad shadow over the mimic. He threw a punch, surprisingly quick given his build. Coin side-stepped the swing.

His counter was swift, his right fist rocketing upward. The flesh and muscles of his knuckles grew larger and denser, drawing on his latent biomass. His hooking punch slammed into the man's gut, lifting his feet from the ground. A harsh wheeze tore from his mouth, all the air pushed from his body, and he fell to the filthy cobbles in a heap once Coin stepped back.

The man with the club rushed him next, swiftly crossing the distance. The air whistled around his cudgel as it repeatedly lashed toward Coin, who dodged it with steady and measured steps. He could see the venomous anger in the man's eyes, the flaring of his nostrils as he furiously pressed the attack.

Another swing came racing toward his head. Coin's right arm snapped upward, drawing mass and density toward his upraised limb. The impact sent a jolt through his entire body, the force such that it would have cracked the ulna and radius of a normal man. Coin barely felt it.

He had spent years fighting adventurers who were better armed and trained than these fools, people who posed a genuine threat to him. All that muscle memory came rushing back toward him, and he knew at once that these men were no more threatening to him than a trio of angry ants.

Coin's palm snapped outward, faster than the eye could see, striking his foe in the chest and sweeping him off his feet. He landed in a heap, crying out and clutching the cracked bones of his ribs.

The last man had drawn a knife just as that blow connected and was already rushing toward Coin. A flurry of stabs raced toward Coin's face and neck, but once more the mimic was able to dodge his attacks. He was on the backfoot, the slashes missing him by tiny margins.

Coin caught him by the wrist and flung his weight with the heft of one arm. The thug's back slammed into the wall, the jolt nearly knocking the blade from his grasp. He staggered, barely managing to regain his balance. "Y-you little bastard!" the man gasped, swaying uneasily on his feet.

"I'm warning you one more time to get out of here. Or I'll have to hurt you." Frankly, Coin thought, the warning was more than he deserved.

Undaunted, the larger man raced toward him. A stab whistled toward his gut, aiming to tear his belly asunder. Coin dodged again, gritting his teeth, and countered with a harsh punch to the stranger's face. His nose flattened and broke against Coin's fist, all the man's weight being lifted off his feet, as he was spun and tossed to the ground.

Coin loomed over the three downed men, groaning and writhing on the ground. It took an obscene amount of self control to not give them what they so richly deserved, but he was all too aware of Essine's presence. And gorging himself in her presence, when he thought about it, seemed like the kind of thing that would horrify her.

He turned to see the kobold shakily rising to her feet. He was at her side in an instant, gripping her shoulder and forearm to support her modest weight. "Are you... are you alright?" Coin asked.

Essine was shaking like a leaf. "This one," she swallowed hard, shutting her eyes. "This one took a wrong t-turn... bought some things for you and Elijah. And... and when this one came through here, those men took offence."

Coin glared towards them. What in the world could Essine have done to warrant that kind of response? He took the time to gather her dropped ingredients, carrying her fallen bags with one arm. He held the other out for her to take, letting Essine's modest weight rest against him.

He spared a glance to the fallen men as they reached the mouth of the alley. "If I ever see you again, you're dead," he warned. With that he turned, leading the terrified kobold to safety.

Essine looked up at him, her face bruised and bloodied, and she managed a tiny smile. "Thank you, Coin," she softly said. And, looking upon her injured features. Coin knew he could never stand to see any harm ever befall her.

It wasn't long until they reunited with Elijah at the inn. The old man got over his initial shock rather quickly, giving Essine some alchemical solution to dull her pain. The kobold fell asleep soon after, the two men seated at the table at the other end of her room.

The two men ate in silence for some time. Despite the deliciousness of the chicken, Coin felt it provided him little comfort. He munched slowly, unable to push aside the anger that was still stewing in his head.

"Why did they do it?" he eventually asked.

"Hm?" Elijah glanced up, frowning.

"Those men. Why did they attack her? She wasn't a threat to them. They didn't accuse her of stealing from them or anything. They just... attacked her?"

Sighing, Elijah reclined in his creaking chair. "Lad, there are plenty of people in this world who don't need justification or logic when it comes to their hatred. They disdain others just at the thought of them. They saw an easy target in our Essine, and took advantage of it. Thank goodness you were there." He glanced to her sleeping form. "We'll need to keep close eye on her. I didn't things had gotten this bad in Sentinel."

Coin knit his brow tightly. "But... why? Why would someone hate her that much? She didn't do anything!" he hissed, struggling to keep his voice down.

Elijah swallowed a mouthful of thigh, his expression shifting as he tried to articulate the right words. What he wanted to describe was complicated. And while he felt Coin had a good heart, and a good head on his shoulders, he was something of a naïve foreign bumpkin in Elijah's eyes.

"For many people, life is something of a drudgery. It's hard, full of difficulties that the common man struggles to overcome. In truth, the root cause for their struggles are near-always stemming from the machinations of their rulers," Elijah began, crossing one leg over the other. "But said rulers are generally out of reach, untouchable. Unable to take their frustrations out on them, the common man can be guided to direct their anger at other targets, my lad. Those who won't fight back, can't fight back, or are generally seen as easy prey"

Coin frowned, stealing a glance to the kobold. "Because they could get away with hurting her? Or worse?"

"Essentially. Guards wouldn't care too much about a dead kobold, sorry to say." He raised a hand to silence Coin when he opened his mouth. "It's not fair. I know it isn't, you know it isn't. But it's just... it's just the way things are."

Coin stared at him for several quiet moments. "Why?" he eventually asked. "Do things... have to be that way?"

"It's the way things are. The way things have been since... before even I was born."

That didn't answer his question, didn't give Coin any sort of comfort. Nor would it comfort Essine. Things could change, Coin told himself. His very existence was proof of that, even if his change had been a freak accident.

Things could change. And he'd find a way to make them change.