We marched through the woods in almost complete silence. The only sounds that found their way through the air were the occasional murmurings of the warriors around me and the stomping feet across the ground. The stomping probably wasn’t intentional, but they were evidently quite heavy.
I felt kind of short in the midst of these people. The orcs were all over six feet tall and the lizardmen were about my height or taller by a few inches. With me being 5’11 I wasn’t exactly small by any standard, but amongst them I was. The male lizardman were much bulkier than Kala was. Their shoulders were wide, posture slightly hunched, and thick tails acted as a counterbalance to their movement. The orcs were all massive. There were no females among them as far as I could tell so there wasn’t much comparison, but the males were at the very minimum 6’4 with the largest one closing in on seven feet tall. Each one was built like a brick wall, rippling muscles flexing taught under their dark green skin.
It was noted that the orcs seemed to prefer clothes over the lizardmen. Some wore loose shorts or shirts under their sparce armor, a few even opted for a very classic barbarian loin cloth. Meanwhile, most of the lizardmen were in their birthday suits, with only a few of them wearing armor over what were probably their more vital areas. Maybe it was just the difference between those with internal reproductive organs and those with external reproductive organs. No need to be shy when nothing is on display after all.
Every once in a while, one of them shot me a dirty look. Slit eyes from the lizardmen and glares from the orcs. At least I know exactly what they think of me. There was no beating around the bush or playing games where you hide your true intentions behind promises and thin masks of kindness. Still, it was far from comforting knowing that everyone around me, save one, hated me, and it wasn’t even for anything I did.
The thought of what would happen when we got where we were going was not a pleasant one. Even if it pained me to do so, I would probably have to leave Kala here and escape from them the first chance that presented itself. I started experimenting with the ropes around my wrist for any weaknesses or loose bits that be wiggled out of. It had to be subtle as overt attempts would be seen, but a slight twist of the hands or pull against the bindings would go largely unnoticed by any who weren’t paying close attention.
The ropes were knotted very well around my wrists but dislocating a few bones in my hand would probably let me slip free. Even breaking bones wasn’t much of a problem if it got me out of here. All in all, the injury wouldn’t be that detrimental, and it could always be healed later. When did I start equating healing with death? That was a bit of a disturbing shift in my thought process that would probably have to be worked through at some point.
Before I could delve any deeper into the state of my mind, a hand came to rest on my arm. There was a brief bit of panic that someone had seen my little attempt at escape, but I quickly realized it was Kala who was touching me. By the soft look in her eyes and the way she was holding onto me, she must have seen some of my wiggling. Her eyes were trying to convey comfort and a plea at the same time. It was a non-verbal exchange, but I got the gist of what she was trying to say. She was asking me to trust her, to not run away.
That was a pretty difficult thing to ask when it was almost certain that my treatment would be less than pleasant. My brow dropped a bit, clearly showing my concern. In response, she squeezed my arm just a little and the softness in her eyes increased tenfold. Damnit, she’s a master of puppy dog eyes.
My chances of winning this silent argument were slim, so with grim resignation, I consigned myself to this fate with a long inhale and exhale while slumping my shoulders. Kala gave me a slight smile in response before releasing me from her grasp. This is gonna suck.
We walked for a few hours, all the while the possible scenarios of what would happen to me ran through my head. Ideas ranged from eternal imprisonment, forced labor, classic torture, ripped apart by an angry mob, and public execution. All of these didn’t really take into account my immortality as they didn’t know about that yet. Once they figured that out, I could only imagine what creative ways they would find to end my life only for me to come back practically begging for more. Naturally, I was being facetious and would very much like to not go through round two of the who can kill me in the most creative way game.
When I finally decided to put the foreboding thoughts aside and look around again, I noticed a mountain peaking up over the trees that we were heading towards. A little under half an hour later saw us standing at the foot of the mountain and starting a hike up the side of an old worn trail. Why we were hiking up the mountain was answered when we approached a tunnel that opened on the side of it.
We made a beeline into the dark pits of the mountain, and I had to watch my footing lest I slip in the rapidly fading light. It all went dark for a second and I was wondering how we were supposed to navigate this when a light deeper in the tunnel caught my attention. The light was a combination of oil lanterns and torches that cast a warm glow across the walls of the tunnel.
Speaking of, the tunnel was odd. It was too circular to be just a random cave, but too rough to be carved. I couldn’t quite place it, but it felt somewhat familiar to me. Shortly after the first lights were found, there were lookouts that emerged from the shadows of the cave. Several goblins and two lizardmen were apparently in charge of watching this entrance.
The goblins came up to about my waist, had pointed ears, sharp teeth, eyes that reflected the light of the torches, and skin that looked a little sickly with its green tint. Most of them carried a short bow with an arrow already nocked, but not drawn, and the rest of them had spears. A goblin approached the lead lizardman.
“Nautil, did you find anything while on patrol?” Evidently, they were speaking in a language I already knew.
“Indeed, we encountered a small scout force of mounted troops and eliminated them. Got some new gear, supplies, and even a few horses for our effort.”
The goblin beamed a sharp smile at the one known as Nautil. “That’s great news!” The goblin then scanned the group, probably looking to catch a glimpse of some of the new acquisitions. Their gaze passed over me and they did a double take. The face went from surprise to questioning to outright anger in the matter of a few seconds. “Why in the cursed pits is there a living Thrainian here?”
Nautil turned back towards me and began explaining. “We found this one amidst the group of soldiers. He claims to be a traitor of some kind, renounced himself as a Thrainian, and apparently rescued the slave girl who is refusing to leave his side.”
I inserted myself into the conversation. “For the last time, I'm not a Thrainian, I'm a...” An orc standing next to me punched me right in the gut causing me to double over and start coughing. Kala was immediately at my side and started glaring daggers at the one who struck me. Damn they pack a punch. I almost threw up from that unexpected gut shot and worked to reclaim my composure.
Nautil continued as if nothing had happened. “I offered him a choice between death and being a prisoner, and he chose prisoner.”
The goblin’s glare shifted between Nautil and me. Eventually, he shook his head. “They won’t be happy about this Nautil, I hope you realize that.”
“I am prepared for that, if it turns out what he claims is untrue we can simply execute him and be done with the whole thing.”
So you think. I could practically see their surprised faces already if it came to that and I just got back up from whatever method they used. Though it would be preferable if it didn’t happen at all.
The goblin waved Nautil off rather dismissingly. “Whatever, I guess we have holding cells for a reason, though they’re mostly for the drunks and brawlers. Whatever is decided with the bastard is your headache to deal with.”
“And deal with it I shall.” Nautil said before continuing past and further into the mountain. The orc pushed me forward to follow, interrupting my recovery from that cheap shot they gave me. Kala gave me a shoulder to lean on as we went, and I gave her a very appreciative smile through my gasping breaths.
After a minute more of walking we saw natural light streaming in at the end of the tunnel. There was no way we could have walked through the whole mountain, so this light sparked my curiosity. We approached the opening and I squinted to try to see through the blinding glare as my eyes adjusted once again to the outside.
What I saw when we emerged from the tunnel was quite something. We were in the middle of the mountain, a large bowl that sat open to the sky and surrounded by rock on all sides. Inside the bowl sat a sea of tents all populated with a plethora of species that would probably not be out of place in the dreams of Gary Gygax.
I realized why the tunnel seemed familiar to me. This was a volcano, or at the very least a remnant of one. From the overgrowth inside and around the cliffs, it has probably been dormant for at least a century or two. The tunnel we went through was for lava flow, I had seen a couple of pictures of this natural formation before which was why it rang a few bells in my head.
We went down a slope into the bowl itself and started walking through the outside ring of tents. Goblins, orcs, minotaur, satyrs, some sort of serpentine creature that I was pretty sure was called a Naga, all stared at me with hate filled eyes as we practically paraded through the rows of tents. There was a lot of angry murmuring going through the crowd that was slowly growing in size. Then, a rock flew through the air and hit me on the shoulder which was quickly followed by yelling.
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“Murderer!”
I didn’t do shit to you! I didn’t even exist in this world a month ago. That didn’t matter to any of them, they just saw me as the enemy. That first rock was the spark that set off the powder keg as the crowd erupted into cursing, shouting, and more rocks.
“Bastard!”
“Thrag’moksum!”
“Drop dead!”
“Veks thren salcrum!”
“Give me my family back!”
I only caught every other insult hurled at me in a language that was understandable, but unfortunately, the rocks were of a universal language. They pelted me with everything from pebbles to fist sized stones. Kala tried to approach, but I quickly shot her a look and shook my head. There was no reason for her to suffer through this as well and she didn’t need to ostracize herself by appearing sympathetic towards me in the midst of all this hate. She seemed conflicted about whether or not to heed my request for her to stay out of this and resorted to clenched fists and glares at the crowd.
A rock struck me on the brow and actually drew blood that dripped off my head. My gaze turned to Nautil to see if he had any intention of dispersing the crowd or rushing us through at the very least. He wasn’t even looking at me, just keeping pace like the public stoning wasn’t actually happening. His apathy was really starting to grate on my nerves.
All the voices in the crowd blended together, but apparently, they were enough to trigger the learning function. My ears started ringing again, but unlike the previous time the ringing didn’t die down quickly. It kept growing louder as multiple languages were being filtered through my ears and it started giving me a migraine. Aah! What the fuck!
My wincing and obvious discomfort were probably hidden under the barrage of stones and simply equated to the pain they brought. The truth of the matter was that the stones didn’t really hurt all that much compared to the brain splitting agony of having multiple different dictionaries crammed into my head at the same time. You bitch! I cursed the goddess through the piercing pain.
Eventually the migraine subsided, and I took a relieved breath before another rock hit the back of my head. That one probably drew blood too and I just sighed dejectedly. Well, this is a fantastic start. My desire to be out of this place only grew, but it wouldn’t be easy now that I was in this natural fortress. Hopefully, Kala had some idea of what she was going to do, because there was that nagging feeling that my treatment would only get progressively worse.
We finally made it out of the sea of tents and the ocean of angry voices. I was outside the range of their stones now and the curses started to fade into the background as they slowly went back to what they were doing before I walked through. Nautil stopped for a moment and turned towards Kala.
“We’ll get that collar removed for you. If you would follow my companion here, he will take you to the forge to get it off.” He said with a slight gesture to the orc standing next to him.
Kala frowned at that and looked between Nautil and me, evidently deciding who she should go with. I made the decision for her, giving a slight toss of the head in the direction of Nautil with a nod. She didn’t need to escort me to a prison cell just to have to go get the collar removed anyway. Her expression was very concerned, but she slowly walked over to follow the orc to the forge.
Once she was on her way, Nautil gave another command. “Take him to a cell and lock him up. We’ll deal with him later.” I received another shove from behind that propelled me forward towards the other lava tubes, an orc and lizardman serving as my escort.
We proceeded down the tube but stopped after just a short walk as we came to some alcoves in the walls that looked to have been placed there artificially. These alcoves were separated from the tunnel by sturdy looking doors bolted into the stone. One of the doors to an empty room was opened and they untied my hands before shoving me inside. The door closed and was latched shut behind me, a little viewport in the door being my only source of light in the room.
My hand touched the parts of my head that had been hit. The back of my head was bleeding, but my front had coagulated already and stopped. Both of them still hurt, and I was having a hard time deciding if the lingering headache was a result of the injuries themselves or the migraine I received from the translations. It didn’t really matter; pain was an old friend at this point, one that probably wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.
I surveyed the room with what little light there was, and it was practically barren. The only thing that was in the room was a bucket in the corner that was probably there just so there was a place to do my business. My shoulders slumped a bit at the accommodations. I didn’t know if this was what every cell was like or if they put me in this one specifically because it was so empty.
There was nothing to do but walk over to a slight sloped wall and sit down while leaning against it. The air in the cave was warm and the wall was cool, creating a comfortable balance between the two. That was about the only comfort I had as everything was still stone and none of it could be considered relaxing. There was nothing for me to do but wait.
Over the next few hours my body started complaining as bruises began to form where I got hit by rocks. It was an aching pain more than anything serious, but it would probably disappear after a day's rest. My thoughts turned to Kala and what she could be doing right now. I didn’t know what the process was for removing a magical slave collar, but it didn't seem like it would take this long. Whatever was happening out there with her was keeping her busy to the point that she couldn’t even stop by. A darker alternative was that everything was a lie, and she doesn’t actually care about me.
That thought was violently thrown from my head. The way she acted towards me after we had found the coalition, if that is indeed what these people are, was not how one would act once they found their out. I had to trust her, difficult as that may be, she was the only one I could even remotely rely on.
Just then the door latch slid open, and I stood up to prepare for whoever came through that entrance. When it opened, two orcs and a lizardman stepped through the threshold. The looks on their faces immediately put me on edge. It wasn’t the stare of contempt of someone begrudgingly following orders, it was unrestrained hatred.
The lead orc spoke first. “I heard you understand Ulgrish, that true?”
“Yeah.” I cautiously answered with deliberate slowness.
The orc smirked. “Good, I want you to understand us as we grind you into the dirt.”
Right, one of these treatments. Can’t say I was surprised, to be honest, it took longer than I thought it would for someone to show up. “You sure you’re not going to get in trouble for this?”
The orc laughed at my attempt to stop this before it began. “No one cares about what happens to you. As long as you don’t die before the commander says so, we can do whatever we want. We’ll just deny even being here, and we bribed the guards to take a break for a bit.”
Figures, I had to try though. They moved menacingly towards me in a slightly spread-out manner to prevent escape. What do I do, do I fight back? Orcs are really strong; I don’t think I could take on more than one. Even if I did fight and somehow manage to win against a three on one, what would be the point? It could just very well make my situation here worse. Who knows what lies they would spread that would make me even more despised? Might even say I attempted to escape, and they tried to stop that.
Any possible action would just turn out negative for me in the long run, so I did nothing. My back was straight, and my arms were left by my side. It was extremely difficult to not put up a guard or make some sort of defensive move as the wall of muscle approached me.
Once the orc came into range, he threw a fist at my gut. My body tensed in preparation to receive the blow and my arms twitched with an instinctive desire to defend myself, but the blow was allowed to land. I doubled over again as the punch knocked the air out of me. This punch was expected though, so it wasn’t as bad as the last one I received.
While trying to reclaim my breath from the hunched position I was in, a large hand grabbed my hair and pulled my head back up to look at him with a painful jerk. “My son died at the hands of you bastards, now I'm going to make sure you feel even a little bit of my pain.”
“I’m not... a Thrainian.” I said between gasps.
“I don’t care what you claim to be!” He punched me in the gut again, forcing a pained growl out of me while still holding my head up. “You all call us monster, but you’re the only monster I see.” He pulled me around by the hair until my back was towards him. After that he slung an arm around my neck and held me in a choke hold while not squeezing the life out of me. My hands automatically came up to try and remove his arm, but it was locked in place around me.
The lizardman stepped forward and punched me in the side, softer than the orcs, but still painful. “You killed my wife because you deemed her too weak to be a slave. Let’s see how weak you are once I'm done with you!”
“Not a Thrainian.” I choked out as another hit landed on my ribs. I was reduced to a punching bag, a flurry of blows repeatedly landing on my body. It was likely that my ribs were cracked in several places. Once the lizardman was winded, he let the last orc have his chance.
The last one approached and made a head gesture to the orc holding me. The one holding me released me from the choke hold and threw me to the ground. I tried to stand back up. If I was going to be beaten, I would take it standing instead of lying down. While attempting to regain my footing, my legs were kicked out from under me which made me crash back to the floor, groaning in pain.
The orc planted a foot on my chest and leaned over me while pressing down. “I was a slave for five years. Every day I was beaten, had my collar activated for no reason, was starved, and watched as the people I knew who could no longer work were executed in front of me. All the while I was forced to listen to you people laugh at our suffering. You deserve no better.”
“Not... a Thrainian.” I could barely get my voice loud enough to hear. He bent over and picked me up, throwing me against the wall a second later. Before I even had time to recover a fist connected to my face, sending me down to all four. Blood drooled from my mouth and my legs wobbled while trying to stand again, using the wall as support.
I was allowed to make it to my feet this time and turned to look at the thugs, my expression vacant and unfocused. The orc just stared at me with a blank face but eyes burning with rage. It was almost casual the way he lifted his arm with his fist poised to strike. He hit me in the face again, and I went down to the floor. After that they all started kicking me, forcing me to curl up into a defensive ball while protecting my head.
This went on for a minute before there was a knock on the door. Their kicking stopped and they slowly shuffled away, one of them spitting on me before going back to the door. The door slammed shut a moment later and locked, leaving me alone and in agony.
It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, it just hurt. Part of me wished that they had done something that was more fatal. I rolled onto my back with great effort and a groan of pain. I lay there, panting heavily while my body pulsed in pain. My bleary vision was focusing in and out on the ceiling.
My face slowly became a scowl, and my arm was raised up with a grunt of effort. Once fully extended in front of me, my middle finger protruded with as much contempt as I could muster. “Fuck, you.” I said to the goddess who was probably rolling with sadistic laughter somewhere. My hand dropped down to the floor with a slap and left where it fell. I closed my eyes and let myself drift into an unconsciousness more akin to a recovery coma. This world fucking sucks.