They approached Elgelica from the northeast the next day on two giant Mor’Orc warhorses and the other three in tow. It took most of the evening to retrieve them. Kay was much better than he at calming and coaxing them, so he gave the tracking to her while he mopped up the campsite.
With Jon currently sitting in the roughshod leather saddle, everything felt a little too big, like he was a kid getting a pony ride. Having to hike up the saddle stirrups did not allay small-man complex he was getting, and I’m not a small man!
The beasts themselves handled quite well. For such massive creatures, they were surprisingly tame. He supposed being around Orcs all the time, little was likely to unsettle them.
Four of the dead Orcs made the trip with them; finding linen body bags large enough to fit them was a notable challenge. Giant old-timey linen body bags wouldn’t be the craziest thing he’d bought, but Jon couldn’t rightly source them online since their story needed continuity.
Instead, they found a small village on their trek south using the HAS. There they bartered for the sacks by selling off a weapon and some of the orc clothing. Each bread crumb was essential, like fabricating an Internet history.
One orc, he chose Baugh, was now stuck in his macabre freezer of the dead. He’d taken the time to cordon off and sterilise a large portion of his walk-in freezer over the last few weeks, sadly nothing was edible in there, but the autopsies would be worth their weight in gold. That was likely a literal analogy, but gold had depreciated a fair amount since it kept on getting mined in new worlds. Still, few currencies translated across the multiverse quite like precious metals and real coinage had once again become vogue.
Lugging the dead around and onto the horses had ‘mysteriously’ fallen to the elf. She was not happy, but Jon’s back was ecstatic. He hadn’t the heart to kill any of the majestic beasts, so he settled for taking a blood sample. Once more, the task fell inexplicably to the elf, who could nonchalantly dismount metres away from a gigantic bucking horse after sticking a syringe in its hindquarters.
Olympic gymnasts would envy how she stuck the landing. Giving rigorous applause, he scored her at nine-point-four-five and told her as much. She did not appear gratified.
Bullets had been fished out, and cases retrieved. All the orcs’ gear had been stowed with them, tied to the saddles and in the bags. The duo and their caravan were obviously conspicuous as they made their way toward a stone bridge. Travellers along the path gave them a wide berth and stared aplenty; mainly elves but a few humans milled by as well. The smell was pretty kak; he didn’t blame them.
The River Lea, it was called back home. Jon didn’t know its name here, and Kay was also fuzzy on the details. Naturally, there were soldiers at a bridge checkpoint long before they would get to Elgelica proper. As such, they were immediately commanded to halt. Kay was ahead; the next stage of the plan depended heavily on her.
“Halt, in the name of the Elgelican Council! You two on those large horses, what business do you have in Elgelica. And what are you transporting?” He spoke in Common, likely for Jon’s sake, but he addressed Kay. She responded in Elven, and Evy gave Jon subtitles.
“Good day, sir. My name is Kay Luren. We have news of great import to the Elgelican Council. As you see we come bearing the remains of a Mor’Orc scouting party we encountered to the northeast. I suspect these worrisome tidings to perhaps be of import to the Thousand-Year City and surrounding Elven lands.”
It was well-rehearsed. Jon’s role required acting like a blithe idiot, something that came naturally. “A thousand fucking years!” Jon muttered absently
“You there human! Is he your servant Luren-sun?” The guard remained speaking Common.
“Why yes, he is.”
“Please, tell him to open the sacks.”
“Jon, do as the honourable guardsman says.”
She did not so much as turn around to make eye contact. Jon dismounted with a bit of effort, waddling on saddle-sore limbs. Minutes of drudgery passed as he opened each bag in succession and showed the contents to an armed and armoured Elven inspector.
All the while, steely-eyed soldiers stood with halberds on either side of the bridge. On the other side of the river, he spied Elven archers upon humble but sturdy-looking crenelations. This was a clear choke point for any approaching military force.
Finished with inspection the guard nodded to him and returned to address Kay.
“Thank you for your patience, Luren-sun. Our commander will likely wish to speak with you. Please wait here while we send word.”
A runner was sent. Jon dawdled with the horses for a while before being escorted across the bridge and into the nearby fort. Fully dismounting, they were guided on foot indoors. Meanwhile, the horses and their burdens were attended to by guards in the courtyard.
The stonework was finely maintained, and there was an aesthetic touch to it that one might not find in most medieval castles: minimalist in its simplicity and beauty. A flower or shrub here, an elegantly carved flourish across a door or plinth there. They made their way through internal corridors until entering a chamber overlooking the central courtyard and saw the horses being fed and drinking below. Their escorts took positions at either side of the door.
An Elf showing the fine wrinkles of a middle-aged man sat at a desk. Jon guessed he was probably approaching his five-hundreds, but he knew fuck all about elf ageing, so he wondered why he bothered. Guards also attended the chamber to either side.
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“Welcome Luren-sun, your servant is welcome to wait outside.” He said in Elven gesturing to Jon.
“He attends to me and goes where I go, if that is not too much to ask. Commander, I presume?”
“You presume correctly, my name is Commander Virion Shalen. I am in charge of the Len River Keep. Your attendant may stay if you so wish. Please, sit.”
She found a chair across from him, Jon waited, standing by the entrance just ahead of the guards. There was parchment, ink, and quills arrayed on the desk, but the commander had cleared enough space to offer some tea which he poured without asking into a prepared cup.
“Luren-sun, I must say, the men and I are quite mystified as to how a young female elf and her human servant came upon the remains of a Mor’Orc scouting party and their mounts.” His sharp eyes betrayed his casual tone.
“I believe you are mistaken Shalen-sena. We did not come upon them. We slew them.”
“Please, ‘sun’ is more than sufficient.” Virion politely waved it down.
“Very well, Shalen-sun.”
“So, slew them, you say? I should very much like to know how.”
“Your disbelief is quite understandable, Commander. I shall elucidate. My aide and I are travelling adventurers from the mainland. We hoped to enter Elgelica to seek knowledge of my family’s past. As with all Wood Elves, all roads eventually lead to Elgelica. We are, of course, no mere peasants, and I have the luxury of a Fire Mage in my employ. Might I allow him to demonstrate?”
“Oh, a fire mage! Why it has been quite some time! Mores the pity he is human: their lives are so ephemeral.”
Jon watched Kay’s face in profile carefully, and she didn’t quite manage to avoid the frown. It came off in a manner that could be construed as detached pity, so it was probably fine.
Virion continued, “Please use the hearth in that corner.”
“Jon, demonstrate your power for Shalen-sun.” She kept her commands clipped, as they had practised.
Virion pointed to a stone fireplace in the corner away from the balcony. It was not particularly majestic but pragmatically made to heat the room with a high chimney and excellent draw. The flames practically pulled back and up. Virion strolled over and stoked a bunch of coals, giving them a healthy radiance and raising the flames further; it was something Jon could work with.
Gently, he found the slivers and pockets of ionization in the hottest parts of the crucible and began to churn them together in a vortex the resulting flames followed suit eventually contorting the convective flow as well. The upward convolution pulled more air from below, feeding the combustion and the fire rose a metre in a matter of seconds. Any more massive and the conflagration would threaten to burst from the grating to nearby wood and furniture. Jon felt the heat radiating on his face. The guards tensed for a moment eyes on Virion, who remained placid.
“My, my, he is quite skilled. I’ve not seen a fire whipped into a frenzy so quickly before. Your servant is blessed with potency! A fortunate find indeed, Luren-sun! My earth magic is somewhat more mundane by comparison, good for pulling bows but little else.”
“You jest Shalen-sun, I’m sure your prowess with an Elven Earth Bow is formidable. My earth affinity, by comparison, is less than that of a paltry minor mage.”
Jon held her recurve bow, slung about his chest. She had handed it off to him when they dismounted, though the quiver remained with the horses. It was a stand-in quiver with very mundane looking arrows. Virion gave a polite laugh, the kind that was honed over many years and utterly humourless.
“Is that your bow?” He gestured to the item in question, and Jon wordlessly brought it forward in hand, bending at the hip, head down, and eyes to the ground.
“May I?” Asked Virion.
“Of course.” Replied Kay as she took a deliberate sip of tea. Virion stood and deftly reached out, plucking the bow from Jon’s hands. He inspected it for a minute before continuing.
“Absolutely exquisite workmanship! The detailing and how these materials have been plied together, just what are they?! Is it wood? Perhaps a new metal? But it is light and shines like glass. Where did you receive such an artefact? Am I to assume this is your Seykho Bow?”
“Yes, it is indeed my first true bow. The draw weight is meagre as you no doubt realise. Still, it is a great honour to be bestowed such an item. Regarding the origin of its craft, however, I must remain deferential of for the moment. Should matters in Elgelica proceed smoothly, I would be happy to discuss more at a future date.”
Virion tried his hand at drawing it a few times scrutinising the details of its fabrication and assembly, clearly as enraptured as Kay initially had been. That bow was likely better than any amount of gold he could have lugged through the gates.
“Of course, I completely understand.” He reluctantly gave the bow back to Jon and proceeded to sit. “Let us conclude matters at hand then, so you may be on your way.”
Kay then spun the tale of how they had happened upon the Orcs during their trek from the coast. Waiting until night, they prepared a trap. Swiftly with the use of Jon’s fire magic, they spread a ring of flame in the half-light encircling the camp. The horses had been grazing a little ways off and bolted as the fire began. Then using the same method he had used on the hearth he had whipped the flames into a torrent, the orcs could not escape, and the air within rapidly grew poisonous.
Indecision cost them their lives as they suffocated before trying to brave the blaze. Virion appeared to understand the threat of carbon monoxide poisoning and smoke inhalation even if unaware of the specifics. One body was burnt entirely to ash, and the others suffered partial burns marking their demise.
Kay pinpointed the site on a map, should they wish to verify the area of charred trees and ground. True to all accounts, the earth and trees had been burnt just as described. The corpses were also singed, they were just dead already. Jon had had a merry time pretending to be a fire god the previous evening.
Next, she explained that the Orcs were verified to be dead with the use of a thin armour piercing pike fashioned from a stiletto dagger. Jon conveniently produced the weapon for inspection. This had not been the first time he needed to explain away bullet wounds and the blade had a handy hollowed hilt with fastening holes to insert any old stick. He’d tried boar hunting with it once; now that was good meat! Jon resisted the urge to salivate.
Virion took this all in without much inquiry, he appeared in thought but not disbelieving. Afterwards, he sent them on their way. Kay graciously left the horses and their burdens in Virion’s hands as a show of good faith. Good horses, especially Mor Horses, were hard to come by. The gifts left a few smiles on guards’ faces as the pair moved off to Elgelica with only their packs and personal items.
Virion recommended a good tavern where they were to mention his name upon arrival. He watched them go from his balcony, waving at Kay and bowing before moving out of sight. Jon just hoped the dominos had been given enough of a nudge.