There's a reason I'm called Patience. When someone calls me a 'teuf', I don't, normally, hurt them. And I will NEVER hurt a kid. However, I will teach why it's NOT a good idea to call one of my kind such. Sadly, some lessons do hurt, but I've never, happy to say, killed anyone. Though some wished I had before they finally learn. -- Lessons
Sometimes, they asked. "Why is it such a bad word? It's just the short form of a longer one. You have no objection to the longer one." At least those who asked wanted an explanation.
Patience took a deep breath and lived up to her name once again. "It's the shortening that's only the start of the poison," she said. "If I called you 'hume' instead of Human, you're going to feel a little irritation about that. It's a lack of respect, like pronouncing D'varuv as 'Dwarf'. Deeper than that is the lack of care inherent. If you can't be bothered saying all of 'Teufel' then you can't be bothered doing other things. Like... treating us as people. Further on, there's the high likelihood that people who say it are more inclined to do worse than spit a word at us. People who say that often say it with one hand on a weapon. And as for what they do next..." Patience couldn't help but grimace. "There's a reason why few of us are seen beyond city walls."
Very rare were the few who listened to all of that and said, "I didn't know. I'll try to avoid saying that from now on." Those people got Patience's eternal gratitude, and more than a few favours. Some essential runework, gifted or sold at discount. They might get some extra coin snuck into their pockets, or a deed done for them in secret.
Most often, Patience got rebellion against her gentle education. Some outright declaring that they didn't care. "It's just a word," they said. "It can't hurt people."
"No, it can't," agreed Patience. "Not on its own. It's the people who say it who do the harm."
And if they still didn't care... that was when Patience lost hers. She reached across the gap between them and held their hand. Then, staring them right in the eyes, murmured, "You are an asshole," in Voulspeak. The language of the devilborn. Back to more normal speech, she calmly announced, "Every time something bad happens to you, you will remember me."
She would walk away, leaving them wondering what the hell just happened. They'd never believe any Cleric who told them that they were not cursed. But they would remember her every time something went amiss. It'd do nothing to alter their attitudes, but then again, neither would anything else.
As for the children... they got the education, then Patience would talk to their caregivers about their choice of vocabulary. More often than not, the child faced the wrath of their adults. And in the rare cases that the household taught the child their prejudices... then it was the adults who got the same 'curse'.
As a Hellkin, she was used to prejudice. She was used to people treating her with disrespect. Those who did not do so got rewarded. It was relatively simple. And when she was done with one town, she would pack her tools and materials and return to the road.
Rare was the person who treated a Hellkin with respect. Rarer still was the town or village that let one stay.
In a larger town, Patience 'educated' a declared speciesist who later came begging runework. Ze'd bragged that ze would never regret hir linguistic choices. But when ze needed wards around hir farmlands, ze came to Patience's wagon.
"Miss Teuf," ze said. "I have two hundred gold to pay for your work at my farm. Far more than you've asked of any of my neighbours. It's my life savings. Come and repair the wards around my fields."
"You still use that word," said Patience. "After everything you've refused to learn, and I have tried to teach, you come to me with that word on your lips."
"I showed you all due respect," ze said. "I called you Miss."
"You also called me a slur," she noted.
"I said I'd never stop and I mean to live by my word. Now take your pay and do your job."
"I am well within my rights to refuse your gold and your work," she said. "And that is a right I choose to exercise. Either renounce your word or find another Runissier."
"I shall not, Miss Teuf. You will note I have no weapons. You may call along the constable to be assured of your safety, if you so desire. But you cannot refuse my gold or my hire."
"I can and I will," said Patience. "And I would rather call the constable to see you and your gold off."
"But my crops will fail and I'll be ruined! I'll have a long, cold, and horrible winter!"
Patience couldn't help but smirk, "Then be warmed by the knowledge that you were strong enough to live by your word."
"You filthy teuf, you'll ruin me!"
"You've ruined yourself," announced Patience, and the local constable agreed with her. The rights of wandering traders were both clear and well known. No protest could change them, and no amount of gold was recompense to a rude wannabe client.
There was hope that the bigot would learn a lesson, based on the kindness of hir neighbours. But given hir tirades about "teuf curses", it was a very thin hope indeed.
Patience was free to continue her object lessons in manners as she journeyed on.
[Photo by Rusty Watson on Unsplash]
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