The Alley King

     In the halls of Ralnd there were rarely exceptions for non-believers. Especially in the crown capital of Baskcalon, yet Pentley Hourslate both worked honorably under the searing Arrosian sun and held truthful to Koshoab. Hourslate’s brilliant mind bested all other scientists beyond the unpragmatic laws that dedicated the Ralnd ruled Dominion. And in reward was given a teaching position in the Cassiopeia dormitories where after hours the professor could be left to invent and dream. Dream of a world beyond trade with a violent neighbor, dreams of a self-sufficient land not only for fellow Koshoabians, but for all inhabitants of Arrose and even those more physically active across the Sladian Sea.   

     In the first few years of teaching those dreams did not falter Pentley Hourslate had forged devices that could better crop yield, and regulate the safety of the great slade mining industry. Time and time again however, these inventions would be blocked from manufraction, each time by one. One council member, a die hard Ralndian old as Baskcalon itself, Chairholder Veroth Las’Cae. Of course, there were no mentions of Hourslate’s ethnicity in the many denials over the years, but Pentley knew from the decades spent climbing the ladder to reach some sort of equality that Las’Cae was stuck in ancient ways and would never let any spawn innovation built by a Koshoabian see the Arrosian sun, even at the cost of the people. 

     Hourslate was not convinced at this to end dreaming, stopping now would betray faith in Koshoab and the Omnibus Order. So Pentley set foot outside the tyrannical Ralnd halls of Baskcalon and into the shadows of Ya’Deiir Allom, the second largest city in all of the Therroman Dominion and least controlled by the Ralndian Crown. The City of Oil was known firstly for its export of the crude element of Slade, and secondly for its large criminal enterprise, being the largest port in all of the Dominion. There as Pentley had done before to locate materials for inventions, the underground organizations would be the solution required to bring dreams to reality. Planning to leave the dune nation that had been home for all of Pentleys life was not an easy decision, but the only one if Koshoab’s vision of a truthful and free world were to be achieved. It took much planning which had to remain secretive to the Cassiopeia council but eventually with the aid of the Dokloor organization Pentley Hourslate had secured safe passage across the channel to the neighboring continent of New Aryeon. There haven would be found in the sister city of Allom, Osae, the city of Passage. All manner of travelers and sightseers makeway through the Rox waters, in considering all denominations the city of Osae is where Hourslate planned to change the world. 

     The voyage was not easy for a person of books like Pentley who had only read of the rough Sladian Sea. Weeks on the water had introduced a new culture to the scientist, whose faith in the Order of Koshoab was open to worship of any and thus a new praise for the Sea Serpent Akrasil began. Following in the daily traditions of the sailors Pentley was a welcomed passenger on the Dokhelm. It was truly a fine modern ship full with all the accommodations of normal city life, it was still decidedly so that ship life was not a secret desire of the professor. Across the weeks-long journey, Hourslate had finalized the dealings that led to his passage to the Roxworth Empire with the head of the Dokloor, a large framed but rather short gentleman, Krent Hostab. In return for safe passage and living quarters, a workshop, and access to whatever books Hourslate could dream of in the portcrown of Osae Pentley would collaboratively work with Hostab and the Dokloor organization to manufacture a new era of technology for the city for the next five years. 

     Bewildered by the City of Passage, Pentley arrived on the crooked wooden docks to an unfamiliar warmth. Unlike the dry heat of Arrose, Southern New Aryeon was a warm humid land, Osae even stranger. Streets full of people of all different backgrounds all shifting about in an unorganized dance of chaos that was nothing like the halls of Baskcalon or dormitories of Cassiopeia, there were quantities of unseen color and scents that both burned and pleasured. Walking down the Portward with the Dokloor guards and leader Krent Hostab Pentley was showered with delicacies only found in the famous city. Oloman Eel, the eyes of the amphibious Toetoes, closets full of clothes. The day neared closer to nightfall Pentley and the small army that followed had barely walked the circle of the ward, the further away from the Dokloorkeep the party traveled the richer in population the city seemed and the closer the guards got to Hourslate. In half a heartbeat that robust crowd scattered into alleyways and open windows as behind Pentley a whip like thunder radiated outward, a line of red mist captured Pentley’s vision, turning to behold the Dokloor leader Krent Hostab ordering two Dokloor with words unheard as horrors not seen since childhood flooded Pentleys mind unfolded. A young charlatan mangled by a thick sear from throat to thigh was lifted from the ground smoldering, a set of green and white tarot cards falling from the limb hands risen by the two Dokloor and dragged off. A blazing spiked whip leaking blood from the hands of Hostab now being recoiled. Suddenly the ports of Osae were as quiet as the halls of Baskcalon. 

     The Dokloorkeep and the sub basements below were not as robust or quiet like those in Cassiopeia. The halls contained everything Pentley could need, expensive metals and rare elements alike. It hurt to have it all be so close to a dream dreamt so long ago but be unable to satisfy what the world needed, unable to use the gifts given to him to serve in the name of Koshoab. 

     Hostab made it clear after killing that Koshoab boy Pentley would not build devices of peace or technology to improve the lives of anyone but the Dokloor, Pentley would work for Hostab for the twisted agenda of the Doklord. First the inventor was put to work building a machine capable of detecting Slade in the hidden compartments of ships, to better control the illegal exportation of the substance. Second a drawbridge that would connect the Dokloorkeep to the mainland that would also be able to stop ships from leaving the Oloman Bay. Pentley designed the blueprints for the bridge in a week but was never allowed outside the keep to oversee its construction. Over the next few weeks and projects Pentley was contained under the keep, dreaming every night of the sun, of the Arrosian sun. After two months a new project was initiated, the construction of a Slade powered firearm capable of firing shots of concentrated Slade at multiple targets a minute. A weapon of war is what it was. Pentley denied the request. Smiling Hostab inquired to Hourslates goals in choosing not to provide for the Dokloor. When the inventor explained the anti-violent oath of Koshoab and the ways of all those who swore the same oath Hostab kindly apologized and brought the pale Pentley out of the Dokloorkeep to the late noon sunset, overlooking the Oloman bay. There lines of perfectly still Dokloor stood. As the sun fell further Pentleys peaceful basking in the warmth that was almost forgotten ended with the echoing vengeful words of Krent Hostab who in front of an army announced Hourslates non violent ways, going on in great detail of how Koshoab came to be just as Pentley had done minutes prior. Ending the speech Hostab did not refute violence but instead ordered the Dokloor to invite Pentley to an Osae welcome. In seconds the neat lines of soldiers disappeared completely replaced by a hungry crowd of bloodthirsty rogue agents. Using the bridge just finished the Dokloor flooded the Portward with screams. It went on and on, Pentley on his knees begged Hostab to stop the slaughtering. In response Hourslate was told to build whatever the Dokloor requested, before jumping into the fray. Until the sunset hours later the screaming continued, the last few beams of light shone the Oloman red and Pentley Hourslate was dragged off to the Dokloorkeep for the next five years. 

     The scientist invented and constructed grand devices dreamt by another, not for peace and longevity but to cause pain and suffering. In the weeks after the Sunscream Krent Hostab had not returned. Instead a slimmer built woman fitted into a clearly tailored Dokloor official uniform draping a long thin black belt that Pentley thought must irritate in the Osaian weather had replaced the Dokloor leader. The wife of the late Hostab, Kastia had started her introduction just as charming and sympathetic as Krent but grew greatly annoyed at the still shocked Hourslate who had fallen into a dangerous cycle of guilt and grief. Straying from any means of nutrients or living essentials, it took Kastia not a word to but the Dokloors favortite servant back to work, all it took was a scream.  One poor roper kidnapped late at night and a swift blades end. The scientist invented and constructed grand devices dreamt by another, not for peace and longevity but to cause pain and suffering.

     Weeks turned into months and the small windows outlooking Osae had shown Pentley the disappointing singular season that the city seemed to be trapped in. More emotionally, those windows showed Pentley the world that was being created. Sharp Metal had replaced the log walls around Dokloorkeep, Dokloors held stronger shields and new ranged devices powered by the bountiful Slade the keep always had. Most nights brought screaming, if not from the victims of the Dokloor than by wild nightmares where Pentley walked the Portward stained red. Other times after long days slumber would bring the Halls of Baskcalon, and Cassiopeia where the Council would ridicule these creations and Hourslate. In one specifically potent dream Veroth Las’Cae while throwing punches of vocabulary transformed into the shadowed figure of Koshoab as the dunes of Arrose swallowed Pentley whole. 

     Those first few months turned into the first three years, the orders for newer more powerful tools came, as did the dreams, only less strongly. It was rare for Pentley to awaken screaming or in violent sweats. Instead the professor slept longer and often had to be reminded many times to eat. Shaven stubble turned into a prisoner's beard, noble clothes grew stained. All amenities were provided but the scientist that had fought everyday just to have the same opportunities as everyone else could no longer see beyond those small windows in the Dokloorkeep. Ms. Hostab took heavy concern into this and brought Doklade, students for Pentley to train, to pass on knowledge Kastia called it, for when the contract Pentley made with Krent would expire, for when finally Pentley would be free. Meeting these students that the Dokloor brought, the rehired professor learned quickly that most arrived also from universities, some even from Cassiopeia and too signed contracts in return for future favors or opportunities. One an alchemist, one of Pentley’s lesser mastered fields, held the symbol of Koshoab stringed on a silver chain. This student Telzel Loclan quickly became favored by Pentley, and brought back a routine that the Professor looked forward to. 

     Nightmares no longer haunted the Dokloorkeep as Pentley set aside faith in Koshoab and accepted this new environment, choosing to now live and teach in hopes to be free soon enough. Working in positivity with the Doklade much was accomplished, and not just in the work for the Doklord Hostab but in the private research for the Doklades as well. Loclan was able to master a hold over Lycanthrope and with Pentley’s help was able to manipulate it. Over the next months new Doklade students came and went with expiring contracts. None comparable to Loclan whose own story inspired Hourslate. Telzel planned to use their work and knowledge of Lycanthrope to cure all those affected by the curse back in Arrose where the curse affected thousands. A week before Loclans contract was to expire, Kastia ordered a device that could infect multiple peoples with the Lycanthrope curse all at once and tasked Tezlzel to manufacture it. Up to this point Pentley with the aid of Kastia was able to keep the Doklade students, especially those from the Therroman Dominion from learning what was being created in the Dokloorkeep or what it was being used for, as to spare the Doklade from similar hauntings. Although at times it was a struggle Pentley and Kastia made it work, until this newest order. Telzel refused just as Pentley had all those years ago, and that night it was not the people of Osae screaming but one swift cut short terrified plea that echoed through Pentley’s mind over and over again. There the professor learned a new lesson, contracts didn’t expire, their signatures did. 

      There were only weeks left until Pentley’s five years were up, and less and less orders came in, lectures with the Doklade were cut short and canceled. Nights grew short and faith in Koshoab returned, Pentley would not revert to violence but stay truthful and defeat the Dokloor. Pentley would use truth as a weapon, to expose the Doklord and all Dokloor to the world, expose the monsters inside. 

     Over the next weeks, Hourslate was increasingly friendly to all Dokloor and Kastia so that on the day of release the sun would be shining down upon all. Pentley would leave the Dokloorkeep with all present, the Dokloor that guarded the scientist, the Doklade who studied under the Professor, and the Doklord who had kept a prisoner who was far too smart to be locked up. It was a few hours after noon when the Dokloor came, Pentley had not eaten, but had not planned to. For the first time in years Hourslate knees bent climbing the stairs from the dungeon of the keep. The bright sun was welcomed by the inventor who smiled widely and truthfully at the crowd before. Nothing could be left. Kastia walked Pentley Hourslate to the West port of the tower, facing the too far too see land of Arrose. In forced calm words Pentley requested to see Osae and all ventured to the west dock. The Oloman bay was no longer red, and the woodways once more bustling. Pentley Hourslate, a Scientist, Inventor, Professor, Koshoabian withdrew Telzel Loclan’s final creation on the crowd. 

     A mechanical whisk followed by a cloud of greenish dirt colored gas smelling of rotting wet fur took the Doklord, and Dokloors tramping over one another trying to escape, the screams like a sad song, Pentley did not want to hurt anyone, but this way maybe all the hurting caused by that keep below would mean something more. In anger and confusion Kastia grabbed the Koshoabian demeaning to know what was happening as all around the Dokloor crumpled, gasping for air that was still there, as their bodies cracked in inhuman ways, bonds bending, growing, skin tearing. The sounds of cracking bones swallowed by cries of pain and mercy. Pentley held his tongue jumping into the cold bay after Doklord Kastia Hostab fell to the ground screaming as large tusks tore from her jaw. Pentley swam in the chilly Oloman and climbed joyfully into the City of Passage, freely for the first time. Five years of living there and only now was the city a glade. 

     That night under a moon that had been unseen in half a decade Pentley Hourslate humbly laid in the alleys of Osae accompanied by rats. Listening to the celebrations of the people as some sort of rebel group fought against the Dokloor. In the eyes of the people the Dokloor had been cursed by the gods to become monsters. Pentley supposed the only one who knew of the Lycanthrope bombs was laying in that alley. Just one lonely Koshoabian scientist and the rats that curiously journeyed through pockets and pants. A mechanical whisk stirred followed by a second and third stopped Pentleys heart as the rats ran. In a panic attempted to rid all clothes and the three other Lycanthrope bombs held by a safe chain brought in swift breaths. Then there was a solid moment of acknowledgement the past fifty years played in a second, everything Pentley had done in faith to Koshoab, and how that faith was lost in the Dokloorkeep, still this fate seemed unjust, but still it was now the truth. Then Pentley Hourslate, was nothing but pain. The cap to that mind contorted, folding inwards while growing, sagging into puddles. Arms splitting into dozens of long nails. A body elongated like stretched plaster. Pentley Hourslate did not scream as everything changed, as a monstrous form overtook everything. In Telzel Lycanthropy, in a dosage of this size not only is the physical form lost and replaced by a monstrous amalgamation of the beings inner monsters, the mind is changed in a way where the intelligence remains but the humanity is lost, replaced by anger, destruction and hunger. 

     Crawling through the shadows amassing a force of just as desolate creatures. The once great professor lived deformed and mangled in the rot of back alleys with new dreams. Truth was not enough. Koshoab brought nothing but pain to all inferior of rebellion. Pentley Hourslate was weak and so forgotten. But the inventions of the Professor were needed to create a new kingdom, one of monsters. 

     Over the years those who travel too deep into the alleyways would disappear in screams and be reborn. Myths and sailors' stories plagued Osae, the legend of the Alley King was as notorious as ever.