Chapter 45
There was no time for introductions. After a quick glance at the rotten remains of the Undead Wolf, the party of orcs guided us across the valley towards the northern wall. I expected the orcs to trample over the forest. I was wrong. Despite their massive sizes, the orcs moved with the grace of great cats, avoiding brambles, and finding paths with the ease of seasoned rangers.
The only set of steps disturbing the forest’s peace were mine, which made me wonder if orcs had racial traits like Elincia’s [Light-footed]. I refrained from using [Identify] on them. As far as I knew, orcs didn’t possess character sheets, which made me think they couldn’t benefit from the System’s boons.
Eventually, I let my feet guide me and I focused on Dassyra who was silently walking in front of me. She wore a set of gray leggings made of stretchy fabric under a heavy beige skirt, fastened to her waist with a thick leather belt. The buckle was silver, with an ornate engraving featuring a wolf’s head. From the waist up, her torn armor had been replaced with a well-tailored padded shirt with short sleeves, and a washed out waist-length cloak. To complement the outfit, a gray wolf’s pelt fell from her left side with the jaws of the beast resting on her left shoulder.
Orcs must have been adapted to colder weather because the short sleeved shirts and the skirts to the knee left a lot of uncovered skin. I couldn’t help but notice Dassyra’s tattooed left arm. Vines, the moon, stars, a deer, a wolf.
A sudden elbow to my ribs brought me back to reality.
“Stop staring, perv.” Elincia grunted by my side.
“What? It’s my first time seeing an orc. I’m just curious.” I muttered back.
So far, the best approximation to an orc has been the half-orcs in Farcrest, however, I could tell the human genes were the dominant ones. A half-orc could beat me to a pulp in a fist fight while Dassyra could easily snap my spine in half with both arms and legs. If humans were deer, orcs were bison.
“Don’t you have orcs in the City of Lights?” Elincia asked in disbelief.
“Of course not. Neither do we have gnomes, or harpies, or snakefolk, or elves. And we definitely don’t have half elves.” I replied with annoyance. “Also, I’m not checking her ass. I’m looking at her tattoos.”
Elincia blushed and looked away.
“Don’t blame me? Dassyra has nice legs.” Elincia muttered.
“There are more important things than firm butts.” I replied.
“Big breasts?” Elincia asked.
I decided our conversation was going nowhere so I focused on the path ahead. From time to time, I had to jog to keep up with the orcs who showed no problem against the increasingly steep terrain. We were getting close to the northern end of the valley.
A sudden high pitched whistle caught my attention. Dassyra raised her arm and the group stopped. I scanned my surroundings, searching for friend or foe, but the forest was an impenetrable wall of green. Dassyra mimicked the whistle, and the group resumed the march, this time at a leisurely pace.
The forest became denser, and the air suddenly became more humid. The waterfall I saw the first day at the valley had to be nearby. Given how relaxed the group was compared to the beginning of our journey, I assumed the destination was close.
I wasn’t wrong. Less than half an hour later, the forest disappeared to give way to a wide clear spot by the creek. There were a dozen circular tents of various sizes scattered around the clearing, the smallest ones able to shelter two or three orcs while the biggest could comfortably house more than twenty. The amount of drying racks, work benches, and firewood sheds made me think the orcs were permanently settled in the valley.
Dassyra entered the small village and the whole village left their chores to form a welcome committee. Unlike the intricate designs of the warrior’s attire, most orcs wore plain robes with leather belts and simple sandals. Most of them had some kind of weapon hanging from their waists but it wasn’t hard to tell which ones were the warriors and which ones were just civilians.
“The Wraiths have been banished! No orc was harmed! The monsters tremble listening to our footsteps!” Dassyra proclaimed and her powerful voice drowned out the sound of the waterfall.
Her words were received by a small ovation, however, most of the eyes were fixed on Elincia and me. They weren’t looking too friendly.
“We also found the Caretaker.” Dassyra continued as she prompted us to come forward. The orc village examined us for a moment but ultimately, they were content with Dassyra’s words.
An old orc pushed through the crowd until he got to the front. Most of the orcs had pitch-black hair, smooth skin, and powerful bodies. This one, on the other hand, looked more like any elderly man, with a hunched back and stiff joints.
“This is not the Caretaker. The Caretaker was already a gray one when little Risha went to live among the humans.” The elderly orc said. Just like his eyes, his voice was firm and strong.
A murmur rose from the crowd.
“The Caretaker died many years ago, Revered. This one is his successor, and the man beside her is her handy assistant.” Dassyra introduced us.
The village fell into silence as Dassyra announced Mr. Lowell’s death. Many of the orcs reacted to the news by lowering their heads and pressing two fingers against their forehead. Whatever relationship the village had with Mr. Lowell, I could tell the orcs respected him.
The old orc examined us for a minute before speaking again.
“It’s good to know she is the Caretaker and not him. We can’t afford our kin to grow weak, even if it's already thinned with human blood.” The old orc said before turning around and getting lost among the crowd.
Despite the solemnity of the moment, Elincia barely stifled a laugh.
As much as I was used to receiving flack from the inhabitants of this world, this time I was caught by surprise to the point I couldn’t articulate a response. Time had passed since I was a lanky office worker. Now, for the first time since my college days, I had put up good muscle around my bones. Even my posture had improved.
“Don’t worry. You look strong to me, handy assistant.” Elincia whispered to my ear.
I was okay with the awkward presentation finishing soon.
“Caretaker, Handy Assistant, you are welcome at the Outpost. Please, come with me.” Dassyra said just loud enough so the group knew the announcements were over.
The orcs returned to their chores while Dassyra guided us to the main tent in the middle of the village. The rest of the orc party that had escorted us was nowhere to be found. Not that I tried to find them, there was so much to see in the small village that I forgot about them almost instantly.
Near the creek, a group of young orcs trained in combat with wooden staffs under the strict vigilance of several old warriors. They all looked like Wolf albeit with bigger tusks and wider shoulders. At the center of the cluster of tents, a small squad of old orcs prepared food while the craftsmen worked on their respective areas, repairing footwear, armor, and tools. The black hair was almost universal, although I detected skins of various shades of green and tusks of variant length.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Dassy.” A male orc appeared from behind a loom and greeted us.
The fabric was a rich checkered pattern of yellow, red, and green tones but what surprised me the most was how big the weaver orc was. Even for orc’s standards, he was a giant. A mountain even. He could probably grab my head with a single hand and put me into orbit.
“Everything in order, Little One?” Dassyra asked.
I couldn’t tell if that was his actual nickname or if it was Dassyra messing around.
“The strange mist goes over the mountains at times. You know there shouldn’t be strong monsters here, not stronger than a Rok Harpy at least.” Little One replied.
“Don’t worry, Little One, we have it handled.” Dassyra continued on her way, leaving the giant orc with a troubled expression. I was yet to find what was Dassyra’s position in the orc hierarchy but so far, she seemed to be in charge of the village’s safety.
We followed her into a large tent in the middle of the outpost. There were no other orcs inside and as soon as we entered, Dassyra put her hand on her side where the wound was. So far she had hid it well.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Dassyra said as she took off her boots, left them near the entrance, and hung her socks near the brazier.
Elincia and I imitated her before diving into the cushioned pile of pelts. Having a roof over my head and four walls around me –or rather a single circular wall– felt great.
The tent was dimly lit by a skylight in the middle of the roof. I expected a precarious living place with a dirt floor and humid walls, however, the tent’s floor was covered in exquisite carpets and pelts. There was a sturdy low table in the corner, and a brazier with red embers just under the skylight. A kettle pot hung over the brazier, filling the room with the smell of cinnamon and peppermint.
Dassyra poured water into three beautifully carved cups. Mine had the shape of a sitting jackalope. It was difficult to drink with the antlers in the way. Then, she brought a huge wooden plate with cuts of salted meat, bread, and dried fruits and deposited it on the pelts in front of us. Before digging in, she offered us water to clean our hands and faces. I obliged with gusto, it had been quite a while since I washed myself.
Once we were ready Dassyra sat cross legged across the big plate of food and prompted us to eat.
“I’m Warchief Dassyra, you are Robert Clarke. Elincia already told me all the important parts, so we can skip the formalities.” Dassyra said.
“Nice to meet you, Dassyra. My friends call me Rob.” I replied, offering her my hand.
To my surprise, Dassyra firmly shook my outstretched hand without an instant of doubt.
Elincia raised an eyebrow.
“Well, Rob, tell us about the thing you were fighting against.” Dassyra said.
Directly to the point, I liked her. I nodded and swallowed the handful of dried fruits I had poured into my mouth. The food was tastier than anything I had eaten in the last week but the memory from the Undead Wolf left a bitter sensation in the back of my throat.
I hated being the bearer of bad news.
“The creature your guys turned into corpse porridge was a puppet controlled by someone else.” I said with utmost gravity. “Despite the distance and the overall rot, the thing could talk, it moved faster than me and could cast spells. I’d say stronger than a Wendigo. It made me choose between joining its forces or being turned into a minion so… I’m thinking the puppeteer is smarter than a common monster.”
Suddenly Elincia’s relaxed expression turned into a deeply worried one. “Monster Surge.” She added solemnly.
“Just as the Elders suspected. An intelligent monster, just like seven years ago.” Dassyra pensively added.
[Awareness] refreshed my memory. Seven years ago a Monster Surge had almost erased Farcrest from the map. During the same lapse of time, Dassyra had left Wolf at the orphanage to keep him safe from the monsters. I bit my nails. After fighting the Undead Wolf and the Ice Wraiths, I could only agree with Dassyra’s actions. A Monster Surge wasn’t a place for a young child.
“If the Farlands are going to get more dangerous, you should come to Farcrest. It might not be completely safe, but the walls are sturdy. I’m sure you could strike a deal with Captain Kiln.” I said, knowing perfectly well I wasn’t the best spokesperson considering my tortured relationship with the ruling caste.
Dassyra’s laughter was melodious and soothing.
“You are just like a man who I used to know. Always jumping head on to help others. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the offering, but we have fortifications of our own. This is a temporary outpost we use to train our youth until they are strong enough to survive the Farlands.” Dassyra explained as she took a small piece of meat and swallowed it whole.
“You are going to abandon all of this?” Elincia asked.
“This is just temporary housing, Caretaker.” Dassyra said. “We chose this hidden valley because monsters don’t usually show here… until now.”
With a nice bath house near the tent, I could see myself living permanently here.
“I’ve been deeply considering moving the orphanage from Farcrest to the orc city.” Elincia seemed to read my thoughts. “Can you imagine it, Rob? No conscription, no harassment, and a whole lot of forest to explore.”
The last item in Elincia’s list seemed to be aimed at herself more than the kids. I couldn’t understand how Elincia was still eager to live in the wilderness considering the events of the last few days. I had enough forests, caverns, and mountains for a lifetime or two.
“Leaving Farcrest doesn’t sound half bad.” I replied.
“That would be hard to achieve.” Dassyra warned me with a friendly tone. “System Slaves aren’t readily accepted in our territory. If you two are allowed to be here it’s because you are the Caretaker, and we owe you and your predecessor.”
Something told me my race wasn’t the issue.
“Orcs don’t use the System?” I asked.
“We are wise enough to not deal with Corruption. The System gets into your head, always asking for more levels, more experience, more skills. It only ends with death, or worse, Corruption.” Dassyra said, this time more seriously. Her words felt almost like an accusation.
Were the people of this world free to choose to accept the System? I wrung my brain trying to remember my first conversation with the System until it hit me. The System had given me the last word during the initialization process. I had chosen to reach the magic inside me by my own account. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. Did I sign a contract with fine print?
“Enough of that, we had our dose of fighting already. It’s been years since I got news from the Inner World. Last time I heard about Ongo, he accepted the System and got a job at the Alchemist Guild. How is he doing?” Dassyra leaned to her non-wounded side and rested her head on her hand.
I made a mental note to interrogate other orcs about the System later.
“Ongo is doing great. He’s a permanent bodyguard of the Guild now.” Elincia said. “We picked a fight with him a couple weeks ago, punched Rob in the eye.”
Dassyra inspected my face. I had to thank Elincia and her ointments, otherwise I would still have a big dark circle around the eye.
“Sometimes it takes more strength to take a beating than punching oneself. It’s good to know my boy’s teacher isn’t a pansy System-user.” Dassyra said as she approvingly nodded.
“Ongo almost ripped my head off but thanks.” I said.
I couldn’t help but notice Dassyra’s mannerisms were quite similar to people on Earth.
“What about Risha? Last time I ran into him while he escorted an alchemist into the orc territory. Is he still living at the orphanage?” Dassyra continued with the questionnaire. Most of the half orcs at Farcrest had to be related to Dassyra’s people.
This time, however, Elincia’s face suddenly turned into stone.
[Awareness] fed me with information as soon as I tried to remember where I had heard that name before. Risha was Elincia’s only friend. One of the orphans who had sworn to look over the orphanage just to bail soon after.
I turned around to face her.
“Risha left long ago, even before the last Monster Surge.” Elincia said in a neutral tone. Then, suddenly, she jumped on her feet and walked towards the entrance. “I’m going to the bathroom. You go harvest Fiery Vine Pods or whatever we are missing.”
Elincia put on her boots without socks and left us alone. Her attitude worried me. Elincia never announced she had to use the bathroom, instead she always used some kind of euphemism. She had made clear she didn’t want company.
“You heard the Caretaker, Rob. I’ll escort you. Our healers found a good spot for harvesting stuff.” Dassyra said, getting up amidst a long grunt of pain.
I put on my boots and left the tent. Elincia was nowhere to be found. I wanted to look for her but at the same time, I didn’t want to be pushy if she wanted time alone to put her thoughts in order. I sighed, not knowing the right solution.
In the end, I followed Dassyra. The faster we gathered all the ingredients, the sooner we would be back at Farcrest with the kids. We moved away from the camp, but I waited an extra minute to ask the question that had been burning in the back of my mind.
“You can understand what I’m saying, can’t you?” I spoke English for the first time in months.