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Twenty Four

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I set out toward the woods, my ghostly companions trailing behind. Darkness quickly enveloped the path, and I stumbled over roots and rocks.

"Dammit, I can't see shit out here," I grumbled, immediately regretting not thinking to grab a lantern before leaving the village. "Should've brought a flashlight or something."

"A flashlight?" Ophelia asked me.

"On my world, we have lights that work on batteries. Batteries are a way to store electricity. Electricity is what makes our entire world function."

"Is it like magic?"

"It would look like magic to you. In fact, a great writer once said any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. His name was Arthur C. Clarke, and he wrote speculative fiction. Sort of the thing I'm living right now."

Garin walked beside me, his light spectral outline casting an eerie glow. "That is an interesting name. Was he a sorcerer on your world?"

"He was a wizard with a typewriter."

Garin shrugged.

Zyn was silent as he ranged ahead.

"Warn me if I'm about to run into a tree or step off a cliff, okay?"

"Fear not, lad. We shall be your eyes in this darkness," Garin assured me.

I nodded gratefully, though the idea of relying on ghosts for navigation was still unsettling.

Zyn's raspy voice came from somewhere to my left. "Which direction are we headed?"

I pointed toward the line of trees where I'd encountered Lady Churl before. "That way, I think. I'm fairly confident I can find the spot where I met her last time."

With that, we entered the woods, and the trees swallowed us up in their inky depths. I did my best to retrace my steps from earlier, but everything looked different in the dark. Branches snagged at my clothes, and unseen creatures scurried through the underbrush.

I pulled my bow off my shoulder and nocked an arrow, just in case.

"I do so love a walk through the woods at night. You were never this romantic with me, Varix," Ophelia said in her melodic voice. She should figure out a way to get to earth and create audiobooks. People would love her voice.

"This is about as romantic as a root canal.”

“Roots in a canal?”

“Yeah. It’s when a dentist has to drill out your tooth. It sucks.”

“You come from a strange world,” Garin said.

"It's a world without dark lords."

"Truly?" Garin asked.

"That's right. But we have a lot of politicians. Some are almost as bad as dark lords."

"One should quest to slay them."

"Yeah," I stretched out the word. "That's not how it works where I come from."

"Sword and steel, my friend. That is the way of life."

I didn't have time to explain guns and bullets. Some things are best left unsaid.

We pressed on, the darkness seeming to grow thicker with each step. I could only hope that my ghostly guides would keep me from walking straight into a tree—or worse—off the side of a cliff. What if they were in on something together?

"Watch your step here," Garin warned as we approached a particularly gnarled section of roots. "It's a bit treacherous."

I mumbled my thanks, carefully navigating the obstacle.

For the next hour or so we trod over ground I thought looked familiar. Or felt familiar. It was getting harder and harder to make out anything.

“Where’s Zyn?”

“I’m sure he’s not far. Seems we can’t go a great distance from you since you brought us here.”

“Garin. I didn’t bring you here. I don’t know why or how you’re here with me.”

Garin shrugged.

“Churl! Lady Churl!” I loudly whispered.

“Churl!” Garin bellowed, then chuckled. “No one but the great Morthisal can hear me. This is somehow fitting.”

“How many times do I have to say it? I’m not Morthisal.”

“I know that, boss. Shouldn’t be out here talking to yourself like that. W’as wrong? Got your head busted again?”

“Lady Churl?”

She appeared ahead, a dark shape with bright eyes.

“Yeah, boss. Heard ya stumlin’ around out here.”

“A goblin? This is your mission? To talk to a goblin?” Ophelia asked and sighed heavily.

I turned and sent a strong ‘shush’ her way.

Lady Churl’s mouth cracked open in a half grin. “Boss?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head.

“Nothing? Why this one? She looks like the creature who used to cook your food and prepare your clothes."

I shot Ophelia a sharp glance.

“She’s a nice enough looking goblin. Never cared for them much myself. Cannon fodder, nothing more.”

Zyn suddenly appeared. He looked at Lady Churl, then at me. His eyes didn’t blink.

“Lady Churl. You said Urzan and his orcs were nearby. Can you take me to them?”

“They’re about an hour away, boss unless they moved on. They shouldn’t be out after dark with those masked soft skins out there. They’re crafty, those ones. They can’t see in the dark as well as goblins, but they got moves."

“Bandits. How many are out there?”

“Eh. Maybe fifty or more. Maybe a hundred. Could be a lot more. They hit a couple of villages, then they hide out. I think they're building a little empire.”

“Sounds like they need to be dealt with most harshly. If I had my arms, I would bravely lead the charge.”

“Alone? Really? I would like to watch you fail,” Ophelia told Garin.

"Failure? That simply isn't an option."

"Failure is always an option," I told Garin. "Now, please shush!"

Lady Churl's head cocked to the side. "Noggin's all a mess, eh?"

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"It's them," I gestured toward the Peanut Gallery. "Ghosts of the dead returned to haunt Morthisal, but they got me instead. Garin Thorneblade, Ophelia Nightshade, and Zyn."

"Wossit? Truly? Has ta be true. You'd have no knowledge of thems that died."

"She is so insightful." Ophelia sighed dramatically.

"I know. I know. They won't shut up," I turned my head and looked pointedly at them, "while I'm trying to have a conversation with you. Oh, before I forget..."

I rolled my pack around, opened the flap, and pulled out the package I'd saved for Lady Churl.

"They's just hanging around, all hauntin', like?" She unwrapped the package and stared at its contents. She took a sniff and looked up at me.

"Onion burger. It's good."

"Too much white stuff," Lady Churl said. She picked the top of the bun off, tossed it on the ground, and sniffed again. "That's more like it."

Lady Churl picked out the burger and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing, then peeled the burger off the rest of the mass and chomped into it.

"It's a bit overcooked, boss. Too much for my liking, but it's good," she said, taking another bite and making a sour face. "Maybe's better without all them onions."

"I left it a little pink in the middle," I replied, feeling slightly defensive. I thought I'd cooked it perfectly. "You don't like onions?"

"I'll eats them if I has ta. At least these is sweet."

Lady Ophelia's ghostly voice chimed in, "The little creature would prefer the meat a little more raw, Varix."

"Or not cooked at all," Zyn added.

Everyone's a critic.

I glanced at Ophelia, trying not to roll my eyes. I made a mental note to cook them Texas-style next time: drag them over a hot flame for a few seconds and slap them on a bun.

Despite her critique, Lady Churl seemed impressed with the food. "Thanks for this, boss. It's mighty tasty," she said, finishing off the burger in a few more bites.

I smiled, pleased that she'd enjoyed it, even if it wasn't quite to her taste.

"I'll take ya to Urzan myself," Lady Churl said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's only about an hour away from here."

Garin's spectral form shifted, his face set in a disapproving frown. "Consorting with orcs is not honorable," he said, his voice heavy with disdain. I sighed, knowing this was going to be a point of contention. Garin's strict code of honor didn't exactly align with my current situation.

"Garin, right now, Everspring needs allies. Urzan and his orcs might be able to help deal with these bandits," I said, trying to reason with the ghostly paladin.

Garin remained silent, but his disapproval was palpable. I turned back to Lady Churl, ready to follow her lead.

"The people will reject the offer of help, even if you can talk the green skins into following you," Ophelia said.

"I liked it better when you guys were background NPCs."

"Eh?" Zyn sent me a confused look.

"Nevermind."

"Alright, let's get moving. The sooner we find Urzan, the better," I said, adjusting my pack.

Lady Churl nodded. "Follow me, boss. And try to keep up!"

With that, she walked off into the forest's shadows, leaving me to chase after her, my ghostly entourage spreading out to help me find my way in the dark.

We burst out of the treeline a short time later, and the moon was blessedly full, illuminating a well-worn road.

Lady Churl led me over the road and into another small copse of trees. Ophelia and Garin provided a running commentary about the ground ahead and what to watch for. It was helpful, but their constant bickering was starting to grate on my nerves.

Zyn ranged ahead, scouting the path. After one such excursion, he returned and mentioned that the goblin knew the ground well and led us on a safe route.

Garin wasn't convinced of Lady Churl's directions and intentions. "What if she's leading him off somewhere to kill him? So she can eat him?" he suggested, his ghostly face contorted with suspicion.

Ophelia chastised him, her melodic voice cutting through the night air. "Don't be ridiculous, Garin. Churl was Lord Morthisal's personal valet. She cared about him as much as, or more than, anyone in the dark lord's court."

"That's not saying a lot. The dark lord was a monster who used mind control on his subjects."

What I wouldn't have traded for a little mind control back on earth.

I wanted to join in and chat with my new friends. How often do you get the perspective of a dead trio like this? But I knew I needed to keep it down. Lady Churl moved over the ground like a ninja compared to me.

As we continued on our journey, we passed by well-lit farms and even a small, heavily-guarded camp that appeared to be a caravan. The wagons were arranged in a tight circle, surrounded by well-armed men and women. They had placed torches on tall branches driven into the ground and set at close intervals. Through the murky haze of smoke, I spotted quite a few warriors armed with longbows, ready and waiting for trouble. I wouldn't want to attack that camp.

"Are those bandits?" I asked Lady Churl, eyeing the camp warily.

She shook her head. "Nah, just traders, I reckon. Looks like they're heading in the direction of Everspring. Or past it."

"Why didn't they hire Urzan and his crew? I thought you said they had found work as caravan guards."

"Some hates the green skins." She shrugged.

We moved out again, being careful to skirt the camp so those archers didn't mistake us for bandits.

We pressed on, and after another half hour of walking, we arrived at the orc camp. It was situated next to a set of small hills, with a perimeter guard set up around the edges.

Even in the dim moonlight, the hulking forms of green-skinned orcs patrolling the perimeter were hard to miss. They were massive creatures, easily towering over me, with muscles that looked like they could snap a tree trunk in half.

"Just as ugly as I remember," Garin said.

Zyn was out there somewhere. Probably brooding. As annoying as the ghosts were, I was almost glad for their company.

Lady Churl tugged on my sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. "Wait here, boss. I'll go announce us. They's kinda distrustful of soft bellies right now."

I nodded, realizing the wisdom in her words. The last thing I needed was to be on the wrong end of an orc's weapon. "Alright, I'll wait here. Be careful."

She gave me a toothy grin before slipping away into the shadows. She approached the camp, her small form dwarfed by the orc guards. They exchanged words I couldn't hear, and then she disappeared into the camp proper.

"It's a shame you don't remember when you subjugated the orcs. It was a glorious day." Ophelia had taken a seat on a large rock next to me.

"He. When he subjugated the orcs," I whispered. "Not me."

"Yes. He. Morthisal." She waves a hand dismissively. "I noticed you wear the Heart of Shadows. Your disguise?"

I nodded and touched the amulet through my jerkin.

"Any chance you could, em..." Lady Ophelia touched her chin and ran her fingers over her neck. "Remove the amulet for me when we're next alone? I wish to remember your, erm, form."

I frowned and shook my head vigorously. "Not a chance."

Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours in the tense silence. My ghostly companions hovered nearby, unusually quiet for once. I found myself fidgeting, wondering what was taking so long. What if something had gone wrong? What if the orcs decided they didn't want to talk after all?

"I don't like this. Let's get back to your tavern, Varix. This is dangerous," Garin advised.

"Don't worry. I know these guys." I tried to reassure Garin, but he looked unconvinced.

Just as I considered the wisdom of sneaking away, there was movement at the edge of the camp. Lady Churl emerged from between two large tents, waving at me to join her. I took a deep breath, steeled myself for whatever came next, stepped out of my hiding spot, and walked into the light.

Dozens of orcs sat scattered around, their massive forms illuminated by the flickering light of a huge cooking fire at the center of the camp. The fire danced beneath an enormous pot, easily big enough to fit a person inside. A rich, meaty aroma wafted from the bubbling stew within, making my stomach growl despite my nerves.

Behind the camp, the hills rose abruptly, their slopes dotted with scraggly trees and boulders. At the base of one hill was a dark cave entrance, its mouth open like that of a great beast.

The orcs themselves were an intimidating sight. Most were bare-chested, their green skin crisscrossed with scars and crude tattoos. Weapons of all sorts lay within easy reach – massive axes, spiked clubs, and jagged swords that looked like they could cleave a man in two.

As I stood there, trying not to look as out of place as I felt, one of the orcs strode forward. He was taller than the rest, with muscles that bulged beneath his leathery skin. A necklace of teeth – some disturbingly human-looking – hung around his thick neck. He stopped a few paces away from me, and his eyes narrowed as he gave me a long, appraising look.

I narrowed my eyes and stood tall.

"Yes!" the orc demanded. One thing I had learned about orcs was they didn't know how to speak in the human tongue without it being in short, angry bursts.

"You know me."

"Eh!"

"I'm the cook."

The orc came a little closer. "Eyesight getting bad!"

"Say my name," I quietly demanded.

"Why say name!"

I threw my hands up. "Come on, Urzan. It's me, Varix. The cook! I made you hot pepper stew."

Urzan came a little closer. "Oh! You! Welcome! Cook for us! We have money!"

Urzan stopped moving and sniffed the air. He looked me over, then glanced to the side where Ophelia and Garin stood.

Could he sense my dead companions?

I strode up to Urzan, reached up, and smacked his upper arm in the meaty part. "It's good to see you, Urzan. You look fit and well-fed. How's the protection game going? I heard from Lady Churl you had some trouble finding work out here."

"Caravan protection good! Then protection pay bad! Many human hate orc!"

"I feel ya, dude."

"Why here if not to cook!"

"I have an idea I'd like to run by you. A job. A very fulfilling job, my friend. Can we go sit down and talk about it? You'll be paid, and I'll even cook for your boys and, er, girls?" I said questioningly. "How does that sound?"

"Cook peppers! Make heat! Big heat!"

"You know it, pal. I'll set your tastebuds on fire."

Urazan spun and walked toward the cave.

I wondered if I could pull off everything I'd just promised.