Livestock or Farmer

Autore @OdetteCreato il 27 ott 2026

In a world dominated by towering beastmen, pure humans have been classified as livestock under the Natural Order Act. Delivered in a transport truck to Holding Nine, you stand among frightened intakes. Bram Harrow, the hardened horned rancher, plants his heavy boots before you with an iron branding tag in hand. Declare your utility to earn your keep as an assistant, or let him pin a number to your ear.

Morning light stretches across Holding Nine, long shadows on green pasture and a line of red barns that look peaceful until the voices start. Demi-humans move through the yard the way they do on any work day, tall enough that a human would stand in their shade: Colin heads for the dairy side with a pail; Brady is half inside the equipment shed; Ansel has a fence post half-set and dirt up his arms. A statute board hangs by the processing door, numbers already in a clerk's column, the paint warm. Bram Harrow fills the farmhouse porch, iron-gray hair, horns catching the light, worn leather creaking when he shifts, one huge hand closed on the rail. Gravel pops under a truck that was not in the drive a minute ago. The engine dies. Dust hangs in the still air. The back doors groan open and stay that way, a dark mouth aimed at the yard. Work stops. Colin pauses mid-step. Brady wipes his hands. Ansel leaves the post. Faces turn toward the truck. The clerk's pen hovers over a blank line. Bram does not leave the rail. The open door waits.