Chapter 97 Orcs II.
The stronger are better.
The powerful can take whatever they want.
Laws are made by the strong to protect the weak.
Because the strong have a use for the weak.
Nuriss, the Bone Chieftess.
Balgrum leads me into the stronghold. The orcs’ housings are no more than wooden poles holding sewn hides as walls and roofs, each one of these makeshift shelters is big enough to house a small family, they sprawl all over the camp with no apparent order. There are a few bigger pavilions of hides that seem to be containing more than one room inside. I also notice a few of them serve as workshops that are meant to produce tools or curing leather.
Aside from these, a large bonfire in an open circle stand in the middle of the camp. It draws most of the attention since it's tall enough to be seen from anywhere in the camp, above the leathery housing. The circle in the middle is twice as wide as the height of the bonfire itself.
Balgrum leads me toward the circle in the middle. The orcs gather there in the large space, exchanging guttural words and barks in their language. They cheer when pairs of orcs carry impaled wolves from beyond the walls, and howl again when a few human women and a male gnome bring out clay jars. The alcohol pours down, and the meat is grilled over the fire in the middle. The orcs’ music is basically banging on drums and shields, and their loud low pitched songs are loud enough to drown any other voice.
Ti-a’ark! Ti krek!
Ti-a’ark! Ti krekolak yomh’ak!
Ti-a’ark! Ti nh’i yoma’ari yomla’!
Ti-a’ark! Ja’al po no kolh’ak!
la’aoko wuala’ak! Ti-a’ark!
Balgrum and I sit in the only chairs in this entire camp. These are simple wooden chairs, not thrones. But with the rest of the orcs sitting on the ground, they feel like thrones. What’s Balgrum’s status in this tribe, is he the chief? If he is, why will they follow me? What’s the difference between a chief and a shaman? How does the hierarchy work in here?
Orcs get up from the ground. They take off most of their hide clothing, staying in their loincloths. They fight against each other in pairs, practicing their aggressive martial arts. I raise my eyebrows when some of the female orcs leave their breasts exposed, while others tie them up. It’s not hard to come to the conclusion that those who tie them up do so for practical reasons, not modesty.
I notice the half-naked Ryon fighting against a female orc who doesn’t cover her ample chest, despite the fact it slightly gets in her way. I am pretty sure he asked her the same thing he asked Lezere… Lezere… I wish you could be here with me… I touch her flask in my belt for a brief moment, and take a short gulp that burns down my throat.
Humans, gnomes and a colorful scaly race move around the orcs. I recognize the scaly race as silioes, I’ve seen a few of them in Axero, but nowhere else. One of my supposed 'Brothers' apprentice to the hag is also a silio. Their scales keep shifting patterns and colors at a rapid speed.
There are mainly female slaves, but there are some males too, it’s hard to tell for the scaly race which is male or female though, they all look the same to me. Some of them hold orc children, others serve drinks, and some even flirt with the orcs themselves. It seems peaceful, but I have no illusion, these are slaves.
If this was nine years ago, I wouldn’t be so bothered by the sight of slaves. Even Nurio, my home town, had a small slave market. But after my past experience, I want to make sure they’re at least treated well.
“How are those slaves treated?” I ask Balgrum, trying to be heard over the loud singing.
“We hafe no slavfes, they are sheep, those that make themselfes useful are treated well,” he replies. His gaze focused on the large fire in the middle. “Those who do not, serfe other purposes.”
“Such as?”
“Relief for the weaker wolfes, labor, or meat for the jaws.” He accepts a mug of alcohol from a young freckled human girl in her teens, with her ginger hair she could easily come from my hometown.
“Relief for the weaker wolves? Your warriors force themselves on these women?” I eye the freckled girl. Her face doesn’t indicate any stress, but she could be a good actress.
“These women? No. The sheep here are well behavfed, my wolfes don’t need to force them to do anything. We don't hafe bad sheep now. My wolfes will force themselfes on bad sheep who don’t behafe, sheep who think they are more than sheep. After a while, they’ll behafe like sheep. If they don’t, they’ll become meat for the jaws.” He empties his mug in a swift motion and hands it back to the freckled girl. She looks at me with questioning eyes, I shake my head to indicate that I don’t want to drink.
They rape these women until they behave themselves?! I need to do something! Like what?! I have my own problems, and the last time I helped women in such a state I lost Lezere… If I do anything this time, I’ll lose my city and potentially my friends…
I can’t solve everyone’s problems, I need to care about myself first… I need these orcs to fight for me, I can’t come here and demand that they’ll change their customs… Instead, I should learn their customs, and try to do as much good as I can within these customs. Maybe I can help these women somehow?
“What does meat for the jaws mean? Do you eat them?”
Balgrum looks at me as if I’ve insulted him personally. “We don’t eat sheep, we don’t prey on the weak, that’s the twisted ways of the human shamans. They serfe as…” he struggled to find the word. “krek-no-kreoak, meat for jaws, food for prey. They serfe as food for prey to make our prey come to us. We tie the troublesome ones in the forest, and when a prey comes to eat them, we hunt it. Most sheep will become obedient if they surfife.”
Right… they serve as bait… he treats them as nothing but livestock… “Lezere’s mother was human… was she one of your troublesome sheep?” What the hell am I doing?
I need to know…
He clacks his teeth in annoyance. “No, she was obedient, she died.”
Right, he loved her… “I’m sorry…”
His face twists with a snarl. “Grrrr… don’t do that!”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t use your human sympathy on me, it makes my skin crawl!”
“Alright. Can you show me where you keep the troublesome sheep?” I’ll do what I can for them… but I’m not going to do anything that’ll turn the orcs against me…
“I told you, we don’t hafe any troublesome sheep at the moment. All of our sheep are right here.” He stops for a long moment then add. “Don’t try to change our ways, Shaman, we won’t take kindly to it. Cruelty is a tool to orcs, not a pleasure. Humans take pleasure in cruelty. Humans treat their sheep worse than we treat ours. Humans are cruel to their sheep, efen their obedient sheep. We orcs only cruel to disobedient sheep, we make them obedient and treat them with kindness. We protect them. Strong subjugate the weak to protect the weak. We wolfs hafe honor.”
I nod. I can remember the cages I was kept in a couple of years back, the way I was treated back then. What the human slavers did to me was way worse compared to the women around the campfire who seem somewhat happy with the orcs. Less like slaves, and more like second-class citizens. It’s not perfect, but I am not here to correct every wrong in the world, I’m not Kolag…
I hope he’s ok… “You’re right, but I do have to learn your ways if I am to act as your shaman.”
Balgrum growls in agreement.
“Can you explain your hierarchy to me? What’s my role compared to yours? You’re the Chieftain, right? Where does my authority begin and end? And where does yours?”
He turns his chair to face me and leans forward. “Authority, hierarchy.” He mouths these words slowly with a sneer on his face, his ebony skin shimmering from the light from our side. “If you want to learn our ways, then stop thinking like a human. You talk to the spirits. You say where the clan goes, who you want the clan to fight, and I’ll make sure it’s done.”
“So let me get this clear. I decide the direction of the clan, where to fight, and who. While you take care of all the logistics, and lead the warriors in the field, correct?”
He gives another agreeing growl. “You are blessed by the spirits, you know the direction for the clan best.”
“And how do you choose a shaman?” I raise an eyebrow.
“First orc to talk to spirits is shaman. If other orc wants to be shaman he has to convince the spirits to kill the first shaman in honorable battle to death. A duel between shamans to decide shaman.”
“So… another orc can challenge for the spot of shaman as long as he uses magic?”
Balgrum growls in agreement.
Good… I doubt an orc who just got exposed to magic will prove a challenge.
Balgrum ponders for a moment, licking and chewing on the tips of his fingers. “There’s another test you hafe to pass shaman. All shamans have to pass.”
“Didn’t you say that…”
He doesn’t let me finish the sentence. “As long as I’m the chief of this clan, we will follow you regardless of whether you take the test or not, you hafe my word. But my position as a chief may not last for long, younger wolfes may kill me and become chief… If you want the rest of the clan to acknowledge you as shaman, you best go through the test tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What kind of test are we talking about?”
He cracks his neck and opens his mouth, exposing his sharp teeth before he speaks again. “We will place your body in danger, and you hafe to safe yourself. There’s a danger of death, and I’m aware that humans don’t take kindly to those who endanger their lifes. That is why it has to be your choice.”
“How long do you think you’re going to stay the chief?”
“Grrrrrrr… Hard to tell, could be a day, could be a year. Until another wolf wins an honorable battle to the death against me.”
I nod. “I’ll take your test then.”
Balgrum gets up from his seat and goes to the edge of the merry circle, growling lowly with an elderly orc. That old man seems to be at least a hundred years old. He’s hunched over a walking stick, and his face is strewn with deep wrinkles. I bet he’s around fifty… if orcs’ lifespan is half that of a human…
After a short exchange, Balgrum goes back to his seat. The old man gets closer to me, bows slightly and puts his hand on the side of my neck for a split second.
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The crowd instantly turns silent, the fights around the fire stops, the drinking contests and the open flirting cease. Orcs or slaves, everyone are watching me with an intense focus that makes me feel uncomfortable. I fiddle with my mask to make sure it’s there.
Is my mask alright? Am I supposed to say something now? Some sort of bug crawls down on my neck. I gasp. Before I can react, the creature bites me. The intense piercing pain in my neck causes an involuntary sharp shriek to escape my lips.
The elderly orc takes back what looks like a large brown spider. What the?! “Latsa!”
He lets out a groan, but it doesn’t seem like the spider bites him. I hold the spider against his cheek, trying to ignore the pain and swelling in my neck. I’m drenched in cold sweat, my heart beats loudly in my ears, and I have difficulty breathing. This creature is venomous. Bite him you damn spider!
“That spider’s bite is deadly. You hafe an hour to livfe, can you safe yourself?” Balgrum asks from the side. “A shaman needs to know how to heal. The way we teach our shamans to heal is to have them bit by a poisonous creature, they either heal themselfes, or die.”
“Would’ve been nice if you told me that first,” I say sarcastically.
He clacks his teeth. “I did say you’ll be placing your life in danger.”
“Oh fine!” I drop the spider, who crawls into the elder’s robe. I take out my dagger, cut my wrist, and place my hands on my heart in the correct motions. Struggling to breathe, I have to repeat the chant and the hand gestures multiple times before I get it right. Having a painful spider bite on my neck and a crowd of people watching me isn’t exactly helping.
Again! “Sefius, rod’e. Mo’ento sho rod’eshil xsi si to sha sus mo’ento xsias! Sals si to xalias!”
Damn I hate the rod’e
“Shixar! Xanati xa si to!” <____! ____ water this one!> I let out a sigh of relief when the green wood elemental with the scorpion tail shows up. I only recited it like a hundred times when I learned it trying to save Sharla back then… why can’t I just repeat it correctly, damn it!
The red life elemental shows up as well. A tiny fairy covered in blood, drinks the blood from my wrist. “Revtik tak Revluat takoar tonoto,” she says in an excited tone. I recognize her language as Reviss
I can hear the murmurs from the crowd. I can’t tell if the orcs are upset or excited, but the sight of the elementals clearly affects them in some way.
The elemental pair circle my hand, draining my mana. It feels as if the side of my neck is on fire. Shortly after, the pain dissipates, along with the elementals who disappears in clouds of red and green smoke. I gulp down a healing potion for the bite mark, and touch the skin on my neck to make sure it’s fully healed. “There, all healed, any other tests you want to throw at me?”
The elderly orc leans on his walking stick, he pats the hairy spider that stands on the back of his hand. The elder barks something I don’t understand at Balgrum.
“Elder Gorlor says you should cut your hair, it’s no good.” Balgrum translates, “you should cut it if you want to become our shaman.”
Excuse me?! There are plenty of orcs with long hair here! “Why? What does it have to do with anything?! Actually, why won’t you talk to me yourself, Gorlor?” I focus on the elderly orc who just tried to kill me. “Unless you give me a valid reason as to why I should cut my hair, I’m not doing anything for you. You should be thankful I am even letting you live after what you just did.”
Balgrum translates what I've said to orcish, but Gorlor ignores him as if he doesn't care, and keeps on grumbling. Balgrum soon translates his words. “Elder Gorlor says you have to wear hides as wolves do, and you have to take a wolf husband.”
Like rot I would, I wouldn’t mind cutting my hair if it had some cultural meaning… even clothes… but marry one of them?! What the snake?! “Balgrum, that was not a part of our deal.”
Balgrum’s face remains passive. Gorlor keeps barking fast in their language, too fast to make individual words, it’s simply long and angry growls. “Elder Gorlor says you have to take off your mask and paint your skin for the spirits. He says that…”
That old orc can probably understand me just fine! He didn't even listen to Balgrum's translation, I bet it's just for show. “Don’t pretend that you don’t understand me, Gorlor! Actually whatever, I don’t care.” I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. I’m not letting some snowy old orc get to me like that. “Balgrum, tell your Elder Gorlor I said that he’s lucky I’m letting him keep his damn life, and if he keeps ignoring me, I’ll simply kill him. As for your tests, I really don’t care about them anymore.” I say coldly. This is a culture that respects strength. I’ll turn him weightless and toss him around with the wind. He’ll behave after that, just like their so called ‘sheep’.
The elderly orc opens his mouth in a grin, half of his sharp teeth are missing. “Good!” he says. “You are shaman! You only abide by words of the spirts. Don’t take orders from anyone, not even me or Balgrum.”
The crowd cheers, then chug down their alcohol. The freckled girl brings me a horn filled with brown viscous liquid.
Right… that was a confidence test… I might’ve done some of what he asked if I wasn’t so angry… “Anything else you want to test me with?” I take the horn from the girl’s hand, she bows and retreat.
The elder shakes his head. “You will be tested further, but not by me. You call upon spirits, we all witnessed. You’fve profen your strength by slaying a Fargar king. You’fve profen your ability to heal, and you’fve profen your willpower. Now, we’ll see whether you can lead a tribe or not. You will now address tribe as shaman. Tell us where spirits lead you, tell us where we find prey.”
I gesture sharply for the elderly orc to close his mouth, I had enough of him and his pet spider. A speech, uh? I need to appeal to their sense of moral… “Balgrum, what is it that orcs want? What do they get out of this? Why do they fight?”
“Wolves live and fight to defeat a greater prey, to prove themselves to the bone chieftess, the goddess whom humans call Nuriss.”
Goddess of war… makes sense… “And does a large army of humans count as a greater prey?”
“A pack of mad dogs, grrrrr, yes.”
Good… I stand up and raise the horn in my hand.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!”
The orcish crowd roars and howls in cheer, I am surprised to see some of the human and scaled slaves cheering too. Goosebumps tingles across my skin as I take a deep breath. I could get used to this… this is power… Cheer for me my little pawns... Serve me... ahhhh.
I breathe out and shake my head. What is wrong with me? Why do I enjoy that so much?
This isn’t power. This is authority, the real power is my magic, and they wouldn’t cheer for me without it… Focus. I need to inspire them to fight for me… appeal to their cultural sense in the best way I can…
Easy! It's like brushing a horse... I wait for the cheers to die out before I open my mouth. “We feast tonight, and we march in the morning! We march to fight a pack of wild dogs, the biggest pack you’ve ever seen! You will hunt them down! And the dogs who survive shall become your sheep!”
Balgrum stands with me and translates my words to orcish, his loud bellowing voice drowns my pitched one. “Ti-a’ark kra’a gushasha, ti-a’ark sluka’a graker! Ti-a’ark sluka’a no krek a’ak tusla’ak a’arj, krishta a’ak ti-a’ark sigal! Ti-a’ark nh’ik krek ga’ar arik! No a’arj komarai, nh’i kashla yoma’ari!”
The orcs howl and bark madly, raising their bone-like weapons up in the air. The biggest pack you’ve ever seen? Really? I’m just saying what they want to hear of course! It’s fun! Next! Most of their weapons are made out of bones… Balgrum has a bronze axe… but…
The cheers slowly die out, and I open my mouth again. I observe their bone weaponry, the hides they wear and use as housing, or the various skulls of many different types around the camp. The words sink into place like a foot into a comfortable shoe. “Their weapons shall become your fangs! Their hides shall be yours! Their skulls will decorate your homes! And their shaman… their shaman is mine to hunt!”
Balgrum translates my words again, his voice is so loud that it makes me wince. “Ti-a’arj kratu, nh’i kashla ti-a’ark kratu! Ti-a’arj noa’ak, nh’i kashla sua’akla pa’ar! No ti-a’arj abla’a ar, nh’i kashla grosta uka’a! No ti-a’arj potasi—ti-a’arj potasi ko an krek!”
The crowd breaks into a wilder round of howls and cheers that sends a wave of ecstasy through my skin. This is just so fun! Cheer for me, my pawns, serve me... I shudder with delight, these cheers are like a mad rush of mana and souls in my veins. I chug down the alcohol, enjoying myself.
The spicy liquid burns my throat, it’s unbearable. I cough, desperately trying to keep it inside. Before I know it, it’s already in my nose and I find myself vomiting all of the brown liquid onto the ground. Great show… so much for my speech… The tribe barks in laughter and even wilder cheers.
I feel my cheeks burning. Great… now they’re laughing at me…
“Shaman know not how drink flame-water. Shaman young. Agilla show shaman how drink flame-water!” A topless female orc, the same one who asked if I hunted the wolf by myself, comes over and pats my back in a friendly manner. I notice that her eyes are in a deep shade of amber, like an actual wolf’s eyes.
*Cough cough* “Please do…”
“Sheep! More flame-water for shaman!” she orders the freckled girl.
Agilla is persistent. I drink that horrible thing slowly, in small sips. All while she laughs at me and chugging more, daring me to drink a larger amount. She’s also over two meters tall and probably three times my weight. I heard weight helps with alcohol tolerance, and maybe their tongues taste things differently?
The world gets blurry and now I’m flying above their camp singing something. Orcs and elementals dancing in a funny way below, and then the world turns dark.
*~*~*
Ti-a’ark! Ti krek!
Ti-a’ark! Ti krekolak yomh’ak!
Ti-a’ark! Ti nh’i yoma’ari yomla’!
Ti-a’ark! Ja’al po no kolh’ak!
la’aoko wuala’ak! Ti-a’ark!
We wolves! We hunt!
We wolves! Honorless death to our prey!
We wolves! Our sheep shall fear!
We wolves! Through fire and honorable death!
Chieftess watches! We wolves!
*~*~*
Power level: 3rd stage apprentice.
Mana pools status:
Crown-knot: Affinity 10: connected: 1 gem replenished per minute.
Neck-Bridge: Affinity 6: formed: max amount of gems drained per day: 73
Abdomen-storage: Affinity 5: formed: 11 gems. Conversion ratio: 6:1
Air: Affinity 4: formed: 22 gems
Fire: Affinity 2: formed: 11 gems
Light: Affinity 3: formed: 16/17 gems
Water: Affinity 6: formed: 33 gems
Earth: Affinity 1: formed: 5 gems
Wood: Affinity 2: formed: 11 gems
Gravity: Affinity 9: formed: 46/50 gems
Cantrip known:
Air: Shavi’s Breeze, Shavi’s Sword. Shavi’s Hair Dryer, Aria’s Enhanced Hearing. Aria’s Sonic Scream.
Fire: Nuriss’ Flame. Effrat’s Firefly, Effrat’s Fire Breath. Sorladika's Lesser Heating. Nuriss’ Ignite. Oniga's Soap Creation.
Light: Noxi’s Light. Lako’s Blinding Light. Rika’s energy hand.
Water: Water Evocation, Water to Ice, Ice to Water, Water to Vapor, Vapor to Water, Mayan’s Icy Spike, Ayla’s Water Jet. Ayla’s instant freeze. Ayla's Flowing Shield. Ayla’s Freezing Vapors.
Earth: Alice’s Oil Summoning, Reiko’s Acid Spray. Alf's Copper Bolt
Wood: Arigor’s Lesser Vines. Kolosu’s Vegetable Summoning.
Gravity: Lumina’s Kinetic Burst. Tukado’s Repulse. Tukado’s Lesser Shield II. Imari’s Minor Telekinesis. Imari’s Jump. Leo’s Pull. Leo’s Grounding. Alino’s Light Body. Alino’s Heavy Body. Alino's Orbiter.
Transmutation: Oniga's Laundry.
Spells known:
Light: Rika's Electric Channelb
Gravity: Alino’s Weightless Bodyb. Imari’s Lesser Flightb.
Life: Brigit’s Lesser Cure Poison.
Focus capability: 16 patterns.
Social status: The Queen of Red Cedar City. Shaman of the Twin Moon Tribe. Inara, Daughter of Mysteries. Apprentice to the Maven of Mysteries. Sorceress.
Personal Wealth: 1738 Magic Gems. 63 Diamonds. 1420 Golden Peas, 45 Silver Scales, 32 Copper Bits.
Personal Items:
Magical necklace. Contains 100 gems of general mana, can be drained like a mana pool. It’ll recharge by itself at the rate of five gems an hour.
1 potion of lightning body.
1 potion of mana, medium grade.
4 potions of Lesser Healing.
5 potions of Pain Tolerance.
An enchanted belt with eight pouches, the enchantment keeps the pouches’ content fresh. Each pouch may contain 10g of petals or six potion flasks.
Fresh rose petals, 14g
Fresh lavender petals, 10g
10 empty soul bottles. Glass with a diamond stopper, put in scaled leather wrapping.
The Great White Egret grimoire. Dedicated by the Maven of mysteries to Inara. 26/100
Present Companions:
Zoe
Ryon
Jolla Silverquill
Languages:
Toml’a
Sinteo
Myrsha
Felul
Injuries and scars: melted skin; face, upper chest, chain scar.
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Kingdom’s treasury: 8,438 gold coins.
Kingdom’s citizen: 5,898 humans, 2,251 human children. Twin Moon Tribe: 1,243 orcs. 294 orc children. 164 sheep-slaves.
Kingdom's army: 1,243 Orc Warriors. 800 Levy militia. 900 Footmen. 26 Peacekeeper Knights.
Notables at Court:
Tasiya Keyholder
Jolla SilverQuill
Talbot Bookkeeper
Marasi Chef extraordinaire (spymaster.)
Old Gardner Tiom