You turn to find your sister, dressed in one of the war garbs you saw in your dream, walk out towards you from the shadows.  She doesn't look as glossy-eyed as the other riders you encountered (in fact she looks perfectly normal) but from her demeanor and obvious reverence to the Craxil you know she is in fact a thrall.  How can this be?  This is the same war garb from the dream!  But your sister has never been like that.

 
"We have big plans for her" the Craxil coes.  "She is the carrier of a great plague, a slower acting yet more contagious version of what you carry in that vial I gave you.  As a carrier she will be immune to its effects, but she will spread them among the humans whereever she goes."

 
"Why?!?  Why would you do something like that you sick bitch?!?"

 
The Craxil only laughs at your insult and seems to take delight in your obvious fear and frustration at this moment.

 
"With the surrounding kingdoms of Mihtana and Lima buckling from the plague, there will be little resistance when we move out of the mountain range and into their lands.  As you may have noticed on the way here, I have many humunculi, goblins, grippli, kobolds, and even a handful of orcs all gathered here in these mountains."

 
"So you really are planning an invasion then?"

 
"I believe that poor servant you so ruthlessly interrogated several days ago already explained that much to you."

 
You struggle not to be blinded by your anger at this point, but there is nothing you can do to stop her.  

 
"The humans are a truly repugnant race.  They have no respect for those that labor, those that produce, those that sacrifice for the good of others.  Whenever they want something (be it money, power, or respect) they simply take it for themselves, and only those who do are respected.  This is why the beastfolk I serve have been pushed deep into this barren mountainside."

 
To your astonishment, you actually find yourself identifying with the Craxil.  Even when you agreed to stick your neck out on their behalf they snickered comments about your intelligence under their breath.  Even now, after all the dangers you've faced, you're sure they have probably already assumed you're dead and are likely redistributing your property as we speak.

 
"The beastfolk here are loyal to me and to themselves, they have honor.  And they certainly deserve the lands of their ancestors, taken from them by the humans." 

 
"And you think slaughtering humans is the answer?"

 
"Since when has diplomacy not ended with a beastman's head on a human's table?  Since when did the humans ever sit down to negotiate with my brethren?  The humans understand only the simplicity of death and destruction so that is what we will bring to them."

 
You know this is morally reprehensible, but from a purely stoic and logical standpoint you can understand the rationale behind the Craxil's argument.  You wonder if peace between humans and the beastmen really is possible.  Since the beginning of time, beastmen have always preyed on humans and humans have always responded with military force on their camps.  Perhaps there really is no better way to advance their position right now but you cannot stomach the loss of life that would come with it.  

 
"My beast brothers have every right to be happy, and so they shall.  They humans will be brought to the breaking point with this plague and the forces I gathered will retake the lands they deserve.  But I am not without understanding.  I can see you have an open mind and have considered my position.  You were wondering if peace between human and beast is possible.  It is a noble but impractical thing.  If you were to join us, I could make you powerful..."

 
You think to yourself "damn, does this Craxil thing read my mind too?"  Still, it is a tempting offer.  You have always toiled as a swineherd, providing the ever popular hams and bacon that are so popular at festivals and weddings and even fed those without homes, yet you've always been looked down upon as a swineherd by those who have probably never worked a day in their lives.  You've seen girls you had feelings for go for men who were of "higher social standing" than yourself.  You've always wanted respect, maybe even a little money or even power.  You think about what the Craxil said, about how only those who TAKE it can ever HAVE it, and upon reflection you must admit it makes sense.  But the Craxil's plan would involve massive loss of life and you are unsure if you want that on your hands.

 
"Your sister did not understand the situation as well as you and I, so I had to make her a thrall.  When the acquisition is finished, I will return her to you... but only if you join me and help spread this plague throughout the human lands."

 
The Craxil, now clearly curious about all the thoughts running through your head, moves closer until her face is less than a foot away from your own.  "Well human, how do you respond?"

You Cannot Abide The Senseless Slaughter You're Scheming, you Would Rather Die

Humanity may not be perfect, but it certainly doesn't deserve the kind of death and destruction the Craxil has in mind.  You announce to her that you would rather die than support her in this plan.  You were terrified that this being might become infuriated and attack, but instead she calmly and slowly backs away... then looks to your sister.  Your sister looks back at the Craxil and you realize the Craxil has just given her a nonverbal order.  By now your sister's blade is unsheathed and she is coming at you. 

 
She fights with a furocity and intent that is completely out of character for your shy and reserved little sister, but her physical strength is the same.  There is nothing special about her swordplay technique either and you are pleased to see that you can block and parry her attacks.  Still, this is your sister, and you don't want to kill her if you don't have to.  The Craxil is obviously enjoying this and you can't help but think that if you could just find some way of killing her then perhaps your sister can be saved.

 
The Craxil is currently in her noncorporeal true form, but she has taken corporeal forms before when she was watching you.  You wonder if striking her while she's in one of these corporeal forms might actually damage her.  Alternatively, you wonder why a shapeshifting being with noncorporeal capability would even need others to spread the plague in the first place.  Perhaps she isn't immune like you once thought or perhaps she felt secure from it in her noncorporeal form.  Would you still need to get her into corporeal form for that first or could you try and give it to her while she's in her noncorporeal state.  Or perhaps there is some other way of getting your sister back to normal.  Unlike you, she knows some very basic magic.  Perhaps she will have something that will damage the Craxil in its noncorporeal state.

 
While your mind wonders to ponder these things, your sister manages to get a shallow cut across your right shoulder and you respond by kicking her onto the ground and stopping down on her sword hand.  You remove your sister's weapon and the Craxil moves in as if to protect its vassal.  You quickly begin to go over your previous ideas in your head knowing you will need to try something and soon lest the Craxil decides to attack first.

You call Out To Your Sister And Try To Free Her From Her Servitude

You call out to your sister and try to reach her as her brother.  You remind her of the grove you two played in when you were young.  You recall times when you organized a surprise gathering for her birthday.  You remind her how much she cares about the well being of others and beg her to come to her senses.  Unfortunately, whatever magicks control her mind apparently override any logical or emotional argument you put forth and she instantly follows whatever order the Craxil gives her. 

 
You have her weapon, but she still has her basic spell casting abilities.  She puts a magic missile into your leg and you are unable to stand.  From here, the Craxil decides to turn you into another one of her mindless thralls.  You spend your days serving her whims, spreading the plague, and standing guard against intruders until one day many monthes later a real hero lops your head off while fighting the Craxil's minions. 

 
THE END