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This story and any subsequent stories in this category are based on the world of Talinak. If you would like a broader explanation on Talinak's setting, kingdoms, and cultures, I have a group that explains it called The World of Talinak. https://www.sofurry.com/groups/view?id=3700

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Talinak, a planet ruled by a hybridization of ancient magic, and advanced technology. A planet in which the mortal and immortal races live together, sometimes peacefully and other times not so much. And, as with any fantasy world of myth and magic, it has its fair share of adventurers seeking fame, fortune, and excitement.

Our story begins with one such adventurer, though they are probably unaware of their impending story at the time.

Halshimron, the birth place of human racism and supremicist beliefs. A kingdom where immortals were hated, non human mortals were persecuted, and beastmen were forced into slavery. Halshimron was a kingdom that was built by the humans for the humans, and all other races were unwelcomed unless they bowed in submission. Thankfully, Halshimron was only one kingdom out of the 9 that comprised Talinak, but it was still large enough to be a considerable power.

And here we find the star of our story, an Imp by the name of Bilen who was born and raised in this oppressive kingdom.

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The sound of rapid foot steps followed by tired breathing was heard throughout the halls as a devilish looking creature hurried to bring an arm load of supplies to the other end. The creature tripped when its footing was interrupted by a crack in the floor, causing him to fall over and sent the equipment sprawling across the ground.

The creature was Bilen, and although he may have looked like a young boy, he was actually much older. As an Imp, his appearance was very childish, resembling a 9 year old in physical build, even though he was close to his early 20's at this point in his life. Standing at only a mere 3 feet tall and weighing 40 lbs, he wasn't very physically threatening. His skin was hot pink in color, while his hair was a darker shade to contrast his bright skin. Like all Imps, it naturally grew in spiky tufts and was kept short. He had a pair of small horns growing from his forehead, being half an inch long each, while his nails on his fingers and toes were sharpened claws. A 2 foot long, prehensile tail grew out above his rump, and a pair of bat-like wings grow from his upper back. He could have used them to fly, if he wasn't busy carrying all the equipment.

The equipment he had scattered was an assortment of whips, shackles, muzzles, and collars. Bilen, as it turned out, was part of the Slavers Guild and was on his way to deliver a fresh supply of equipment to the slave catchers. Although Bilen was not technically a slave, he was practically treated like one. The others gave him the most grueling, humiliating tasks to perform, and he suffered a drastic cut in payment for his services. After several years, he even began to suspect if the only reason they paid him at all was because of his father.

Bilen was not born as an Imp, you see, he had originally been human. The son of one of the slavers who worked at the guild and who was supposed to have been raised into the family business. However, Imps have a love for pranks, and they have the power to turn children into more of their kind. One day, Bilen made friends with a captured Imp girl who promised him magic powers if he would help her escape. Well what young boy wouldn't jump at the chance to use magic when it was offered to them?

She held up her end of the bargain, alright, turning him into a fellow Imp, but during the ritual, the guild had successfully tracked them down. Bilen's father arrived just in time to see the ritual finish, and his son transformed into one of the immortal Imps right before his eyes. Furious at the Imp's actions, he had her savagely beaten before dragging her back to the slave pens, and practically all but disowned his son in an effort to teach him a lesson.

Since that day, Bilen's father had treated the boy like a stranger, ashamed and disgusted to have an "immortal devil" for a son. The fact that Bilen was given any kind of payment for his work was probably the last shred of affection he felt for him.

Bilen quickly gathered up the equipment and returned to hurrying down the hall, coming to the gear up room where slavers would prepare their equipment for taking part in the next hunt. He forced open the doors with his shoulder as he entered to see the party that was going to be involved with the hunt. There were 3 human males, 1 human female, and 1 Ogre male. Bilen was also going to be joining them, as he was part of their team, in a loose sense of the word.

The Ogre, being a monster race, suffered even worse than Bilen did. His kind were known for being simple minded and Bilen recognized this one was especially challenged. His name was Stewped, a name the humans had given him and he was too slow to realize the meaning behind it. Stewped was effectively used as free labor. He didn't care much about gold, he just liked to smash and destroy things. Whenever they brought him out on a hunt, they just turned him loose upon the village and then rounded up any fleeing prisoners in the ensuing chaos.

Stewped was a monstrous being, standing at 12 feet tall and weighing nearly 400 lbs of pure muscle mass, the slavers acted friendly towards him only because they didn't want a pissed off Ogre rampaging around the base, but Bilen had seen how they constantly took advantage of his stupidity, and what they said about him behind his back. Stewped wasn't even given proper clothing, just a tattered loin cloth that hadn't been properly washed in almost 3 months.

It attracted his attention towards his own limited form of clothing. Bilen wore a simple leather harness and tight fitting thong. For some reason, Imps had an attraction with tight fitting leather outfits, and Bilen soon discovered he had the same interest after his transformation.

The human female was also someone you did not want to mess with regardless of gender, and she had built up a reputation to prove it. Her name was Elicia, and she was a merciless dominatrix. Belin had witnessed on several occasions that she specialized in capturing, training, and selling pleasure slaves, and other females were her preferred targets. There were many instances in the past where she would force captured females to pleasure her, but she would only allow a male to do the same if he could beat her in a fight. Obviously a fiesty and violent woman who was aroused by displays of power.

Elicia was very muscular for a woman, standing at a height of almost 6 feet tall and weighing 160 lbs of muscle, she had supposedly been a member of the Amazons, but was exiled from her tribe for unknown crimes, and decided to join the Slavers Guild instead. She wore a leather armored suit covering most of her body while leaving her head exposed and allowing her shoulder length, curly black hair to grow freely. Over the leather suit, she wore chainmail gauntlets, boots, and a breast plate for additional protection while still being allowed to retain freedom of movement. She was busy polishing her weapon of choice, a two pronged spear which she affectionately referred to as Penetrator.

Two of the males, Belin still had difficulty telling appart, as they were identical twins. The only difference between them was one focused on martial combat, and the other preferred to use magic. The fighting brother was named Edgar, while the spell slinging brother was named Vincent. They both stood at an exactly equal height of 5'3 and even their body weight was the same at 140 lbs. Belin suspected that Vincent may have used some kind of magic to alter that detail. The twins shaved their heads bald, which Belin had once heard a rumor that they had different hair colors, so they chose to shave it off to further confuse people.

The twins dressed alike, both wearing full body, dark leather armor leaving only their faces exposed. Edgard carried a twin set of curved daggers, dual wielding them in battle. Vincent only carried one such dagger, leaving his free hand available to cast spells. The difference in their weapons was the only clue Belin had to identifying who was who.

The final male in the group was Belin's father, and the leader of the party. The others in the party knew him as Tilnak. He was the oldest of them by far, being in his late 40's. He stood at a height of 6'2, retaining a muscle mass of 170 lbs even in his middle age. His father was almost as frightening looking as Stewped, choosing to wear a pair of reinforced leather pants, boots, and gauntlets, but leaving his upper body exposed, displaying a network of scars that he had accumulated in battle. He had a full beard and shoulder length hair which although still largely retained its brown coloring, was starting to develop gray streaks from age.

Belin's father had been raised in the barbarian tribes as a fierce and powerful warrior, but the promise of gold and plunder caused him to leave his tribe and join the slavers, much like Elecia. His weapon of choice was an enormous maul that required both hands to swing properly. Belin had once heard his father say that it apparently weighed 80 lbs, but he had no scales to prove it at the time.

"About time, devil child! Could you be any slower?" His father chastised Belin upon entering the room with their hunting equipment. He leered at his son with contempt as he struggled to place the heavy equipment on top of the table.

"I'm not a devil, I'm an Imp!" Belin retorted, "and I'm old enough to be called a man! Not my fault this body doesn't age anymore!" He added, plopping on a bench to rest himself as the others in the party started to grab the supplies they felt they would need.

"It is entirely your fault, boy!" his father replied with a raised volume in his voice indicating his annoyance, "Or do I have to remind how it is you came to possess that body?" He asked rhetorically as he lifted his massive hammer and strapped it to his back.

"We hear story?" Stewped asked curiously, taking a few steps forward before Vincent held up an arm in front of him, causing the lumbering brute to stop and look at him in slack jawed confusion.

"Not right now, Stewped." He answered, "We've got another village to capture." He informed him. The Ogre's gaze took on a blank expression as if he were trying to formulate a thought pattern. Then he suddenly snapped back into reality grinning like an excited child.

"Me like hunting!" he bellowed, "My like to smash, and squish!" He was bouncing from one foot to the other now, sending loud pounding throughout the room before Vincent was able to calm him down with magic.

The brother held up his right hand and a magical glow radiated from his palm, catching Stewped's attention. He stared into it, transfixed on the light before his posture slumped into a pacified state and Vincent ended his spell.

"We're leaving immediately!" Tilnak ordered, "And you already have those devil powers of yours, so I don't want to hear any whining about not having a weapon!" He commented to his son after glaring at him for almost causing an incident with the Ogre.

"I'm not a devil!" Belin shouted again, but his father wasn't listening by this point as he and the others were already heading out the door. Belin swore before looking towards the table and finding that small dagger had been left behind. Well small for an adult sized wielder, but for someone as short as him, it was probably like a sword in comparison. The dagger had a 3 1/2 inch blade and a white, coiled metal grip and pommel. It looked rather beautiful, actually.

The Imp snatched the weapon off the table, and sheathed it into the scabbard, which he fastened to his leather harness before following the others out the door.