Chapter 14: Planning’s a Pain

“Doubling the garrisons in Elwynn Forest, expansions into Strangethorn Vale, not to mention all those new orc internment camps. It’s like the nobles want to bankrupt themselves! If there is enough coin in the treasury for all that, they can afford to pay a few builders a fair wage.

I’m hearing talk of unrest and even rebellion from my contacts in the Stonemasons. It sounds like someone is fanning the flames within the guild, so we must extinguish the kindling. Unless you want anarchy in the streets of Stormwind, find some gold to pay what they ask.

* message from an unidentified SI:7 agent to their handler

~ Brgllrm

Two young murlocs circled each other on the beach clutching their makeshift weapons. Both held wooden spears sharpened roughly with the stones that formed the boundary of the pit they stood in.

They had already exchanged a few strikes. Fast things, stabs meant to gauge their foe’s prowess. It seemed one of the murlocs was happy to escalate, as she lunged for the other’s uncovered thigh. He quickly shifted to the side, dodging the thrust but leaving the spear dangerously close to his legs. A mistake his opponent exploited viciously.

She knocked the other to the ground with a pull of her spear. He was defenseless. Murlocs hadn’t really figured out the whole armor thing aside from natural material scavenged from aquatic life. Shells and scales tied together with rope, that sort of thing. But that was usually only reserved for chieftains or hunters who wanted to look important.

As she lifted her spear to her side, she spun it to face the point downward and jabbed it straight into the sand. A hand reached down to clasp the fallen murloc and she helped her opponent up.

The audience cheered as the victorious murloc lifted the other off the sand. Almost the entire village had turned up to see the first day of the competition. It almost made people forget about the lackluster meal they had that night. With most of the hunters preoccupied with training and setting up the tournament, the village dined mostly on food from their stockpile. A stockpile consisting mainly of half-rotting fish and over-ripe fruit left over from previous meals.

While the fighting pit drew the largest crowd, other events took place on the beach as well. A mess of stones, driftwood, and small potholes in the sand made up a rough terrain obstacle course. While there were hunters that raced against each other, the course was open to anyone who wanted to try. Most people weren’t too keen on attempting, but some ambitious young murlocs took the challenge.

There was also a group of hunters slinging stones at roughly gnoll-sized piles of rock. As I watched them it became obvious that they were showing off rather than practicing, unless their battle plan involved standing on each other’s shoulders to gain a height advantage.

Actually, that gives me an idea… I thought while watching the hunters score surprisingly accurate shots considering the unstable surface they were shooting from. Maybe I could-.

I was interrupted mid-thought by a cry of pain coming from the obstacle course. Making my way over, I found a hunter sitting on the floor, hand placed over a scrape on their knee from which a trickle of blood flowed, and breathing harshly through their sharp teeth.

After making sure they were only injured on the knee, I helped move them away from the obstacle course. A cursory inspection revealed the relatively minor physical damage the hunter had sustained. I cleared any sand or debris that has found its way into the small scrape during his fall.

After making sure I got as much dirt and sand out as I could, I retrieved a hermit crab shell that hung upright from my belt. Removing the reed lid I poured a small amount of the amber liquid onto his wound. The hunter flinched slightly from the sting, the alcohol in the whiskey-like spirit no doubt creating a burning sensation as it cleaned the cut.

I recapped the shell and stood up. After telling him to stay seated and rest for a bit, I moved on, unhappy as I was with the half-assed treatment. I had done all I could, heck all any murloc in the village could aside from Mrgglr and his magic. He wasn’t in any danger of bleeding out or anything. But without clean bandages, there was the risk of it getting infected.

If only we had proper medicine, I thought, or even the right stuff for those home remedies I was taught back on Earth.

I was busy moving between the events acting as the primary medic. The people competing were our best fighters, and losing them to an accident would be tragic. Three people had already required medical attention. Weirdly, they were all from the obstacle course. Turns out that having intentionally rough terrain and young murlocs wanting to show off was a recipe for leg injuries.

Making my way over to the slingers I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of precaution they were taking. Previously they had some tadpoles playing behind the targets who would pick up their stones between rounds. Never mind the chance of an overshot stone braining one of the kids, but they even had them retrieving stones between slings. Something about not wanting to mix up their good stones.

After I had finished shouting at them, they begrudgingly accepted having the tadpoles stand off to the side and only come on after they had all made their shots. But I could see the annoyance in their eyes. They would probably return to their original system if I didn’t keep reminding them. People just don’t listen till someone has paid a price in blood.

Rushing back to the obstacle course I managed to stop a group of what looked to be seven murloc teenager-equivalents from starting all at once. Then I made my way back to the fighting pit and checked on the previous winner’s arm. There was just a bit of bruising. Then I had to run back to the range and…

After another hour of putting out proverbial fires, I was exhausted. There had been no more injuries, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any close calls.

It hadn’t been this hard at the start. Mrgglr had been taking care of the fighting pit. Or at least he was watching the fights and could react right away to someone taking things a bit too far. But now he was gone, and I had to grab a few of the viewing adults to help me look after and care for the injured people.

But Glrmgrlr called a finish to the fights and by extension the rest of the competitions. Some people were a bit disappointed, but most seemed content with turning in for the night.

I had to hand it to Glrmgrlr, the competition was a hit. The undercurrent of fear that I had been sensing for the entire day had reduced. The only problem was safety standards.

As the village started winding down from the excitement of the night, I went for a walk along the beach. My master liked quiet places where he could be surrounded by nature. If Mrgglr was anywhere, it would be along the coast.

~ Mrgglr

I breathed in the salty seaside air as the waves lapped against the rock where I was perched. The competition had been momentarily entertaining, but all the chattering and attention made it a terrible environment for decision-making. So, I stayed long enough to show my support for Grmgrlr and made for clearer waters.

The beach was the perfect location for me to relax. The scare with Lrsh and the uneasy mood spreading through the village had made my return far from perfect. But I knew what would cheer me up. Some old-fashioned sea crawler husbandry. That never fails to clear his mind.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Everything from the motion of digging the rearing pond to the familiar feel of tiny legs skittering across my palm dredged up childhood memories. Those were truly simpler times, back when my tribe still held on to the old ways.

Of course, whenever I get to thinking of my childhood I eventually reach its tragic conclusion and spend the rest of my evening cursing the naga and all their traitorous lackeys. At least it pushes the sense of nervousness out of my mind.

When the pit was filled with spirit-blessed water and I had given the proper gift of shell carvings and the largest catch of the day, I started to herd the crabs into their new home. It was slow at first. A few of the babies were more interested in meandering about the beach looking for a snack. Never mind the fact that I had just fed them half of tonight’s meal scraps. Then they tensed up suddenly and scuttled frantically to the water.

I was a bit confused until a few moments later when the vibrations in the sand became noticeable to me. There was a cadence to it, much like a footstep, with each small rumble being punctuated by half a second of peace. But each following shake was louder, and a little bit closer.

Turning away from the crab pit, I caught sight of a large figure rumbling towards me. It was a snapper, over two meters tall and moving at speeds that were impressive considering its lumbering form. It was a juvenile, lacking the distinct chin spike of older snappers.

I scrambled to my feet. Snappers were a nasty beast to deal with. Most traditional survival techniques failed against them. Their territorial nature made frightening them away a dangerous affair. Their thick skin and nigh-impenetrable shell negated most of the advantages a swarm of murlocs possessed. But the worst of all was their dual nature. Ever since arriving on the shore, murlocs had been taking advantage of our amphibious abilities. If you were being chased by a land beast like a bear, you could jump into the ocean and be almost invulnerable. Likewise, if some ocean predator like a shark found you an appetizing snack, the beach suddenly became a safe haven.

But try that with a snapper and they would just follow you without breaking stride. The best you could hope for was to come across a prey more appealing and distract the beast with an easier meal.

But as I started on the sweeping motions and felt the rattling of the totem around my neck, I noticed something peculiar about the snapper barreling towards me. Hanging from most of its shell spikes were familiar charms and talismans. They were carvings, done by murloc hands. I even recognized a few of them as Splyshy’s work.

Either this was a particularly ingenious hunting tactic or… Brgllem mentioned something about a Cass, didn’t she?

Operating under the assumption that this was indeed Cass and she wouldn’t tear me apart like a starving man who found a full spawning ground, I retracted my request to the spirits and dropped into a more neutral stance. Snapper didn’t really have a language, but they understood emotions. Just appearing threatening might be enough to set it off.

My gamble paid off when the snapper started to decelerate a few dozen strides away. Something that big took time to stop. Even with the precaution it still blasted me with a scatter of sand when it skidded to a complete halt.

After its - her - impromptu appearance, Cass acted with unusual restraint for a snapper. After a few seconds of staring at me, she lower herself onto her belly shell and let loose a snort.

Approaching cautiously, I reached her head and lowered a hand. She saw it coming and let it continue. Her skin was hard and jagged, with large craggy scales protecting the top of her head. Moving past that I reached behind her ear, scratching at the smaller and less calloused scales on her neck.

Cass seemed to enjoy it, as she stretched her neck to grant me access to its entire length. As I moved on to the other side of her neck, the soft sound of footsteps became audible. It was a cadence I recognized.

“Cass, why are you laying in the sand?” Brgllrm said. “Did you find something to ea… oh. I see you’ve met Mrgglr.”

I turned my head and saw Brgllrm slowly walking towards us. “Hello, Brgllrm. This is Cass I presume?”

“Yes, she’s… wow you’re really going at that.” She said, her brow furrowing while watching me scratch Cass’s neck. “She never looks this happy when I do it.”

“I possess a few advantages I will admit.” I said. “Feeling her reactions to my movements is invaluable.”

Brgllrm got a very intense look in her eye after my statement. “Wait, oracles can understand animals?”

“In a sense, yes. Through the elementals of nature, we can understand the emotions and intent of simpler animals. But it requires a delicate touch and a deep relationship with the water and earth. Conglomerate elementals are not something an apprentice can handle, even one as gifted as you.”

Looking back to Brgllrm after I had finished my short lesson, I noticed her lack of focus. She was not paying attention at all. Instead, she was muttering something that sounded like “diz knee” under her breath.

Shaking my head I let go of Cass and gave Brgllrm a pat on the head. “Brgllrm, why are you on the beach this late?”

That snapped her out of the trance she was in. “Oh, I was looking for you.”

“You found me.” I said, making a circular motion with my hand. “What next?”

She seemed hesitant to ask her question. After a heavy sigh, she spoke. “Am I going with you to fight?”

That… was a good question. Traditionally oracles would take their apprentices with them wherever they go. But that was back in the ocean before the naga came. The biggest dangers back then were aggressive sea life and rival tribes, both of which could be dealt with relatively safely through careful route planning and tribute respectively.

We were going to fight a force that by all accounts had no concept of restraint or willingness to bargain. Even the murloc tribes I knew that had resorted to feasting on their members did it out of desperation. Those first few years on the shore forced many to adapt or die. But the gnolls had no such excuse. The forest should have been plentiful enough.

I didn’t want to risk Brgllrm getting captured or killed by those furry creatures. But I would need help in performing my duties as an oracle. If every tribe on the coast was sending a warband, there would undoubtedly be some who are missing an oracle or healer. Brgllrm could be the difference between a dozen hunters dying or living to return to their villages.

“I think… you will have to come along.” I said while gauging her reaction. In her eyes, I saw not surprise but acceptance. “Without your help, I would never be able to keep up with the demand for medical assistance. Besides, this is something you will have to deal with sooner or later. Better it is now and under our control than due to another raid.”

I patted her on the back. “But do not worry. You will be in the safest position imaginable. Surrounded by hunters and coastrunners from every village along the Longshore.”

She started nodding her head, her red frills bobbing up and down. “You’re right. I know that factually. But whenever I think back to the first gnoll attack, I get this sense of dread.”

I joined in her nodding. “That is completely normal. Many of my patients tell me a similar story. But if you want to be an oracle, you cannot divorce yourself from the fighting. Especially not now.”

Turning back to Cass, an idea popped into my head. It was unorthodox. Some might say crazy. But if anyone would be willing to try, it would be Brgllrm. “I may have an idea to help with your concerns.” I said.

~ Brgllrm

A week later…

I was sitting in Mrgglr’s hut working on my sign language when the shouting started.

By the time I realize what was happening, half the village had already gathered on the beach. From what I could gather one of the hunters had run into the coastrunner party this morning and had rushed back to the village to tell everyone.

By now I could see them making their way to the shore. There looked to be three of them in the group.

When they pulled themselves out of the water, I noticed something weird. The one standing in front looked good. Like, really good. Even though he just finished a trip that took Mrgglr and Glrrm a week, there was no fatigue visible on his body. The colors of his skin and frills were vibrant and his teeth were extremely sharp.

The other two were different. They were muscular, which was to be expected from coastrunners. But they took it to an extreme. They stood a head taller than the average adult and had arms as big as my torso. I guess they were also from a far-off tribe because their skin was a muted purple rather than the green and blues I was more familiar with from the village.

The handsome one stepped forward and addressed the crowd. “Greetings, my name is Slrgl. Could I speak to your chieftain?”

While everyone was still trying to figure out what to say, I pushed forward between their legs and spoke. “Hi, yes, Slrgl was it? I’m Brgllrm, our oracle Mrgglr’s apprentice. I can take you to him and the chief.”

“That would be perfect.” He said, flashing his sharp pearly whites. He turned around and motioned for the two others to follow him. “Let us not dally. There is much to do.”