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World: MSS - Loading...
"Speech"
"Thoughts"
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The glasses-elf walked in front of and the two orcs slightly behind me to either side. A triangle formation to keep me in check. I looked over the elf’s armor, noting the daggers and the leather straps. Probably another stealth or dex-based build, though I’d need to know more about how many Cores and which to make a judgement.
This situation was a juxtaposition of my first experience in MSS. Back then, it was just one orc who was leading me. Now it was three guards. Strangely, I had felt more fear from that orc than from these three. I wasn't scared, rather I felt relaxed. If the three decided to turn on me, I might not be able to win. However I was confident in my ability to run away or take one of them with me. It dawned on me then; they had no idea how strong I was. Hence the extra caution.
“If Puca, that witch doctor lived, they’d have a better idea. But all their agents out in the field died. They’re playing it safe. “ I must have caused quite a stir when returning to the city.
“What are you smiling about?” The elf said without turning around. “Something funny?”
“He can tell I’m smiling?” I forced myself to keep smiling, just to show that I wasn’t scared. “It’s nothing.”
“Sir.” He corrected me. “You forget your place, slave.”
The elf’s cruel but jovial manner was much more subdued than the last time I had seen him. Now he was just all business.
“Fine with me.”
“It’s nothing, sir.” I added the honorific. There was no point in squabbling here.
I thought the glasses wearing elf would say more but he remained silent through the rest of our walk. They led me out of the barracks and took me through the familiar roads. We were walking towards the temple in the center of the city, which towered over the other buildings. Taking the opportunity to look around, I saw shadows slinking on top of the rooftops and more guards posted on every corner.
What the hell was going on?
They led me into the temple. The moon was covered by the clouds and there weren’t any torches inside, so it was dark. Due to my Beckoning Cat Core, I could see relatively fine, especially near the windows where the city light filtered through. I hadn’t actually been inside the temple before so I took a good look, burning it into memory.
The stone structure was a giant cube, on par with the skyscrapers from New York. On all four sides there were T-shaped gateways, reaching the full height of the building. Entering the temple meant you had to go through those openings and the sheer size of the building was humbling. I knew there were multiple floors by the presence of stairs. Constantly looking up filled me with a sense of vertigo and I stopped. Each T-shaped opening was connected to a path that led towards the temple center.
While I was distracted we walked through the various pedestals which housed statues of, what I assumed, orc warriors in the past. All four walkways had statues on either side. At the end however, smack dab in the middle, was a statue that dwarfed the others. We stopped in front of the centerpiece.
“Pay your respects.” The elf took a knee in front of the statue and the two orcs did the same.
This statue was twice the size of the others. It featured a hulking orc in skeletal armor, sharp bones stabbing out in all directions. On his head was a crown that resembled a jawbone. To me who had seen all the endgame armor this game had to offer, it looked mid-tier at best. Unlike the others which were beset on a pedestal, this one had a throne and the orc-figure sitting on it.
This looked oddly familiar. I peered at the bottom of the throne like I had thought, there was a large club made of bone and a great shield replica, scaled to size.
“Isn’t this the [Autarch]?”
One of the six heroes who represented all the races of MSS, the [Autarch]. Lorewise. he was the first one to unite all the hordes into one, crowning himself the first Orc King. But he wasn't present in any orc encampment, instead he was deep underground locked behind a dungeon. I remembered beating the shit out of him right before heading to kill the [Grand Magus]. This guy dropped some nice anti-magic equipment.
The orc behind me kicked me in the bend of the knee, forcing me to kneel with my forehead on the ground.
“Kneel!”
I fell to my knees and felt it scrape. There was a sharp stinging sensation, telling me the fall probably broke skin. Pain and blood.
“Ok so I can cross [Dull Edge] off the list.” The fact that I had scraped my knees at all was a sign that the Ujo Core I absorbed did not contain the passive ability [Dull Edge].
On one hand, I wished I had that passive ability. On the other, I was glad I didn’t because my instincts were telling me that from now on, I had to tread very carefully. I would have to keep all the cards I had hidden while trying my best to figure out what my enemy’s held. Well, I’d have to figure out who my enemies all were though. Besides, the Dull Edge Core came with [Dive Bomb] which wasn't the best for me.
Either way, the only possibilities were [Disaster Sense] or [Arcane Masochism] which were both useful. Hell, [Arcane Masochism] might even make my trash skill, [Coin Toss] somewhat useful. Perhaps complaining enough about the uselessness about the Gacha Cat’s abilities reached the deities’ ears, namely Oung. She was the one who set everything up after all.
“Now move.”
They led me deeper into the temple, then led me upstairs. I looked down the railing and saw that the layout of the second floor was U-shaped, allowing someone to reach the floor if they were daring enough to leap out. The elf walked with purpose, ignoring all the doors but one. He knocked carefully.
“Come in.” A voice muttered.
The two orcs opened the double-sided door, holding one each. The elf gestured with his chin, looking like he had eaten something sour.
“In you go.”
I went into the room and they shut the door behind me.
When people think of temples, they think of colors like white, silver and gold. But that only shows that they’d never been transported into a video game world and took a tour in an orc temple. The walls of this room were completely gray, made out of the same rock as the entire structure. But the decorations made of yellowish-white bone and blood-red crystals made it seem much more sinister than some boring old rock.
Tapestry with designs of orcs in battle, drinking wine while using the head of their enemies as cups adorned the walls. Expensive rugs lined the floors. And in the corner… a small shrine.
Even my meager mana sense was tingling that this was a place of dark magic, of mana that I hadn’t yet encountered. Something new, yet instinctively sinister.
The orc in front of me was hunched over, wearing a wolf-cloak over him and sitting at a stone table. By wolf-cloak, I mean that the cloak he was wearing looked like it had been skinned from a wolf-type monster then all the fur ripped out. He had white hair, braided into pigtails on either side of his head and was smoking from a long pipe. Upon seeing me he smiled.
Behind him was a stone bed and another pair of orcs. I had thought the beds were made out stone for convenience sake, perhaps it was an orc custom to sleep on hard surfaces. I promised myself to look this up in the future.
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The two orcs on the bed were total opposites of each other. One was obviously female and she wore this weird leathery- holy shit, her cloak was made of human skin. I fought my natural urge to take a step back. She was just as old as the one in front of me, I could tell because the wrinkled and mottled skin. Unlike her counterpart, she was completely bald and black tattoos adorned her bare scalp.
The other was a light purple skinned orc, identifying him as an orc from a different horde. He had a large manacle around his neck and was chained to the bed by his arms and legs. He didn't seem fully conscious, his eyes narrow and mouth open slightly.
Oh, all three were naked.
The female orc took a sip of what I assumed was wine, some of it spilling over onto her body. I hoped it was wine. With her other hand she was... well, I won't go into details about that.
I hadn't noticed but there was another behind me, probably an orc. They must have been the muscle of this outfit, because I felt him kick me in the bend of my knee forcing me down. His hands clamped over my hair, which were way too long now and twisted, pulling hard. In every other situation, I might have resisted but here, I stayed calm. My eyes never left the two elderly orcs in front of me.
“Oooh, I like this one.” The orc woman muttered. “Restraint in a slave. How rare. He’d do well in the pits.”
“It seems introductions are in order, slave.” The elderly orc gestured to himself. “I am called Skurl.”
“Damur.” The granny said, her gaze never leaving me.
Of course, the sex slave simply groaned. Whether in pleasure or in an attempt to join in the pleasantries, it wasn’t clear.
“And you, slave?” Skurl prompted.
“...Lock Slaveborn.” I wanted to take a look behind me to see who was still holding my hair, but didn’t want to risk incurring these people’s anger.
His eyes gained some mirth at my made-up name. “Ah. Perhaps it was in your fate to serve the Samak Horde then.”
I didn’t bother correcting him.
“May I know whom I have the pleasure of serving?” I tried to sound polite as possible, subdued even.
I needed to fish for information.
They bit the bait all too easily. Perhaps it was because I was a slave or maybe because they didn’t plan to let me leave this room alive. I prepared for the latter, looking for a mirror or a window.
“I am the Shaman of the Samak Horde.” Skurl said proudly. “And the honored one behind me is-”
“-the one who holds the fate of your life in the palm of her hands, slave.” She finished for him.
These two obviously weren’t your everyday grandpa and grandma. I could tell right away from their fluid speech and their mannerisms. In the game, I saw these types of characters maybe once in a playthrough, twice if I really tried to explore cities. These were the type of orcs who spent time with humans and elves, the more ‘civilized’ races.
That meant they had connections and political pull, not just within the horde but outside of it as well. The guy in front of me was probably what he said he was, a Shaman albeit a corrupt one. Else, why would he allow Damur to engage in her debauchery while in the same room? She must have paid him off somehow and if my guess was correct, Damur was the coin and brains behind this whole slave operation. Despite their corruption and sexual deviancy, they were the type who you'd frequently encounter on quests involving the Black Market, or underground operations.
“Damn, just like that I’m thrust into the heart of the matter”
I had thought it’d take awhile to get to talk to people of power like this, yet here I was. There must be a way I could use this to my advantage.
“I like the way he looks when he thinks.” Damur took another sip.
“They chose well.” Skurl rummaged behind him and showed me an orb. “Do you know what this is, human?”
A small spherical object looking like it was made completely out of glass. It reflected the colors in the room, creating a dazzling display of gray, red and black.
Of course, I recognized it.
It was a grading tool. They used it at adventurer’s guilds. By injecting it with your mana, the orb measured your overall strength. It could sense things like your stats and even the power levels of the Cores you absorbed. Taking all that information into account, it would grade the person from 10 to 1, giving them an adventurer rank. It wasn’t the most accurate way to classify adventurers but the only method I knew of.
But Lock Slaveborn wouldn’t know that so I shook my head.
“Ah no matter.” He set the orb down in front of me. “Place your hand upon it.”
I didn’t like where this was going.
One of the greatest weapons in my disposal was secrecy, keeping my hand hidden. That’s why I gave the jagged sword to Clover, to stow in the dimension ring before we arrived here. If they found out about my Core – Ujo, the grade 7 boss-class monster – I didn’t know how they’d react. They wouldn't know exactly what Core I had, but just that I held a powerful one. I’d lose the only advantage I had over my captors, the element of surprise.
“I fucked up.” Did I blow my chance of escape? Where did I go wrong?
If I was in front of a screen, this would be one of those times I would be extremely tempted to press ALT+F4.
“Focus. Nothing has changed since you killed the Dokkaebi. Just because you absorbed two cores you think you’re suddenly hot shit? You started as a slave and you’re still a slave. One guard, three guards, the number of them doesn’t matter.” My attitude coming in here was one of arrogance, but I reminded myself where I truly was.
I breathed in and out, calming down.
My greatest weapon wasn’t the Cores.
It had been my cold, rational decision making that got me until here now. Every inch, every opportunity I had to seek it out and hone in on it. Now was just one time among the many where I had to be vigilant. For now, I would have to play along. I put my hand on the orb.
“Do you know how to use mana?”
I did but again, played dumb It wasn’t hard, I knew this body wasn’t as talented as Clover or L’teyas. It would take awhile for me to pick up enough [Mana Proficiency] and the [Mana] stat.
“That’s fine too.” Skurl looked at the person gripping my hair and gave a nod.
My captor stabbed me in the shoulder, the same side that was touching the orb.
“AG-MMPH!” I yelled out but Skurl shoved a dirty rag in my mouth.
“Shhhh.” He told me, his eyes on the orb.
“Blood has always been deeply intertwined with our magic. Not just us orcs, but all living things.” He explained. “One of the ways to force a mana to move is to bleed, to make your body feel like you are in danger.”
The orb flashed some letters I couldn’t decipher. But Skurl looked delighted.
“Damur! Grade-8! The same as that elf downstairs!”
“They’re talking about L’teya!” I struggled at the mention of the word ‘elf’. I had to find out more.
My torturer twisted the knife in my shoulder and I stopped. I looked at Skurl and saw Damur, licking her bloodied hands. It reminded me all too much of the Ujo licking my blood off of its blood-stained talons and I shuddered. It only made my torturer stab the knife a little deeper and I couldn't help but groan in pain. Damur's eyes met mine and hers twinkled.
“He makes a nice sound.” She whispered, her voice sultry.
“Come in now! You may take him!” Skurl clapped.
Wait, that was it? That was all the information I got?
I tried to say something in protest but the gag was preventing me. The door creaked behind me and I felt the grip on the knife in my shoulder loosen. But the foot on the back of my knee kept the pressure there. I hated how thorough they were being with my treatment, leaving me no way to resist in anyway; even if I had planned to. A crazy thought of me spinning around and kicking the legs out from the orc behind me; then taking the two elderly orcs captive flashed through my brain. It'd be a risk but perhaps it would be worth it?
“You called, Honored Shaman?” The elf's voice was immediately recognizable even without me seeing his face.
“Send this one to the cages with the others, Yulrien. Make sure to set him apart, he’s going to go on auction. Hmm, put him near the elf though. He can go either last or before the elf. He's also a grade 8!"
“Grade 8?” I heard the surprise in the elf - Yulrien's - voice.. “...As you will.”
There were more footsteps and the two orcs grabbed me by the arms. They began to lead me out of the Shaman’s quarters.
“Oh and bring me another bottle of this.” Damur’s voice called out right before the door shut.
They dragged me down the stairs and each step caused my shoulder to ache. I hissed and tried to rip my arm away from the orcs, insisting that I could walk down the stairs on my own. Honestly I had no intention of escaping but they didn't know that. The pain was building up and I grew annoyed with each passing second. Especially since my meeting with Skurl and Damur had been anything but fruitful, except for the hint about L'teya.
“Do not resist, slave.” One of the orcs snarled at me.
I finally lost my temper. “Teach your grandmother to suck eggs, orc.”
He punched me across the mouth and I spat blood on his face. He punched me in the mouth and in the stomach. I laughed at him doubling over.
I was fed up in this situation and knew that they couldn't kill me, I was merchandise. My options to deal with my frustration was either insult the orc or try to fight all three of them without my weapons, and in the heart of their city. I chose the former and felt that it had been a bargain. But it also let me learn something new: when I had been punched my an orc when I first got here I almost passed out from the pain. Now? It wasn't debilitating at all.
It just hurt like hell.
“Fucking crazy bastard…” Yulrien muttered and I took that as a compliment.
They were leading me down to the basement levels. A long winding staircase greeted me and we began our descent. I kept quiet most of the way down, trying to see if I could tell exactly how deep underground we were. The orc that I had insulted kept pulling on my arm, the one with the shoulder wound and I lost track. The elf lit a torch and used it to light our way.
We reached the lowest level which was full of cages.
More than a man-made basement it was a large cave. Huge stalactites and stalagmites adorned the floor and ceiling, reminiscent of a dragon's maw.
“In you go.” Elrien repeated, pushing me in front of an open cage.
He was wrinkling his nose in distaste and I saw why.
There was dark-colored sludge everywhere on the floor. The orc’s blow must have broken my nose because I didn’t smell anything and I silently thanked him for it. Most of the cages were lined up in neat little rows, though some were strewn throughout the cavern. With my enhanced sight, I recognized some of those faces as the other slaves. But not all of them were from my cohort, nor in slave attire at all. I stepped up to the cage and saw how filthy it was, just like the rest of this basement. Filled with waste.
Seeing me hesitate, the orc who I spat on shoved me in. I fell into the cage and purposefully landed in a puddle, splashing my captors. It must have smelt horrible but thanks to my broken nose, I didn't smell anything.
Told you I got the better end of the deal.
The orc kicked me as I laughed at him, splashing more of the shit-water on them.
“You’re mad.” Elrien complimented me again.
Then he shut the cage. With a resounding click, I saw him lock the door. He put his face close to the cage one last time, taking a good look at me. I gave him my best defiant stare. The damned elf just smiled at me and left without a word.
"Ok that's enough of acting crazy."
Skurl had mentioned an elf and I knew that it had to be L’teya. They were sending me off to wherever she was. One of the things I promised myself in the dungeon was that I wouldn’t leave L’teya and Clover behind. I'm not good at saying mushy words like friendship, but we went through life and death together. That means something. I owed it to them to try. So I had purposefully aggravated the guards, getting them to injure me and let down their guards. Finding out that this place was filthy was a stroke of luck; they would be busy washing themselves up for the next hour or so.
Now... it was just a matter of finding L'teya and getting out of here.
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