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The Siege Mage
Siege Mage (Prelude) Chapter 8

Siege Mage (Prelude) Chapter 8

Erevan wakes up and with a quick stretch quickly tries to decide what to do today. Ozarrik is heading out hunting for food, so Erevan travels with him.

They catch a few critters; rabbits and other small game. They return from a successful hunt laughing as Ozarrik tries to explain why the orcs converted a nearby hot springs into a mud bath. When they get back to the village one of the twin daughters approaches to take the food. It’s Varin, she helped heal Darton.

“I need this for tonight's divinations.” Varin says. “I’ll have the fur and meat sent along when I’m done, but the organs and bones could hold answers we need.”

“Sorry,” Ozarrik says to Erevan, “she always does this.”

“Anthropomancy.” Erevan comments. “It’s cool.”

“Excuse you?” Varin slowly turns to Erevan. “What did you say, outsider?”

“I just know of the divination technique. My father could sometimes tell where good food was or if predators were near by reading animal entrails.” Erevan explains.

“Can I borrow him.” Varin asks Ozarrik.

“Sure. He’s not my property.” Ozarrik snorts.

Varin takes the dead critters, turns, and walks towards a specific tribe building. She stops and expectantly waits for Erevan to follow. Which he does after a second of raising an eyebrow at Oz.

They head into a large Tipii. In the middle of which is a stone pedestal with a bowl like surface. She holds the first critter, a rabbit, over the bowl and disembowls it with a small knife. Turning to Erevan she poses a question.

“What do you see?” She tilts her head slightly.

“Well its lunch tells me that there are roots just a little North of here that can be used for pain relief. It was probably eating that because of the slight scarring on its hind leg. An old wound from a wolf it barely got away from. More abstract visuals show that this rabbit may have known a storm was coming. A storm front or something large which made it want to dig its burrow deeper than its ever been.” Erevan explains.

“That’s it?” Varin asks.

“Well, for a stormfront you dig out, across, to have a wider basin at the bottom of the burrow. Then you build extra tunnels. For drainage, escape, etc. But it was moving stone too. This rabbit wanted to go deeper.” Erevan notes.

“Deeper, to escape someone, not to escape a storm.” Varin says with a flick of her knife hand.

Erevan nods understanding that there might be a larger threat on the horizon.

“Let’s clean the rabbit up and consult the bones of the next critter. I tend to find more abstract divinations there.” Varin says excitedly.

The two continue to perform divinations for the rest of the afternoon. Varin is true to her word and brings the corpses to an orc that prefers the task of butchering animals. He saves all there fur for others.

Erevan joins the family for dinner. This time Varin sits across from him. Both her and Ozarrik talk to him. Erevan enjoys the company. They discuss the relationship animals have with nature and how that the sentient races have the option to participate in or destroy that relationship. Erevan offers up an example of his destruction in killing a snow leopard and his participation in feeding the lemmings.

Eventually the whole family retires for the night.

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Erevan attends a religious service in the morning. A day of birth celebration for one of the tribesmen. The young Burkwood is amazed by the lively atmosphere, the drinking, and the dancing involved. An orc even asks Erevan to dance and he awkwardly gives it his best try.

Erevan stumbles through the dances, a few orcs laugh at his expense, and he ends up falling at one point. Varin is not amused by him joining in and making a fool of himself. But lightens up seeing her tribespeople enjoying themselves while Erevan repeatedly fails to dance.

Erevan eventually excuses himself and finds Ozarrik with three other orcs around their age. They are taking turns grappling and trying to one up each other in brawls. Erevan smiles wickedly and joins in on the fun.

Erevan proves himself semi capable in a fist fight, especially when it comes to dodging. But the first chance he has, he picks up a full sized orc, as his tattoo supports the weight. He tosses that orc across the fighting pit much to the surprise of the fighters and a few onlookers. Ozarrik breaks out into a cheering roar.

That night at dinner, Ozarrik can’t stop raving about Erevan to his brother Zitirius. The two speak for a bit. Surprisingly Zitirius doesn’t have nearly the muscle mass of Ozarrik. His eldest brother is tall and lanky.

Eventually dinner ends and Erevan heads back to Ozarriks for the night.

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Erevan spends the next morning talking to Zitirius just south of the camp. They work at quarry of sorts where the two find the best stones. Its a common practice for the orcs to make their own back up tools out of stone. They have no forge and thus can only trade for iron and steel tools.

Zitirius shows Erevan a skill called knapping to make spear heads, arrow heads, and axe heads. They do this for the better part of the day.

Erevan turns out to be a natural at it. Applying much of his skills in whittling to the task at hand. Eventually the two return to camp. Zitirius with some new respect for Erevan.

As the two arrive back in town Erevan spots Varin weaving baskets with wicker. Zitirius quickly makes himself scarces as Erevan approaches Varin. He offers to help and she accepts.

Eventually Varin excuses herself to join her family for dinner and Erevan follows. Ozarrik sits next to Erevan at dinner, but makes him sit further down the bench. Now the Burkwood is stuck between Oz and Zitirius. The two can’t stop praising Erevan and how quickly he has adjusted to Orc life.

Sitting across from Erevan is Vali, the twin of Varin, and she starts to stare at Erevan. Her eyes pierce through him, scare him, and he can’t comprehend why. Until she brushes her foot up his leg under the table.

“You havn’t introduced me to Ere?” Vali whines.

“He’s off limits.” Ozarrik growls.

“Gods, there is plenty of Grog on the table, maybe drink that instead of thirsting over the human.” Zitirius narrows his eyes at Vali.

The twin sister retracts her leg, huffs as she crosses her arms, and pouts.

“You two never let me have any fun.” Vali says.

“Spell casting is fun.” Varin comments from beside her twin sister.

“What? What spell is fun?” Vali sideeyes her sister.

“For you? Maybe it would be fun and useful to know Detect Venereal Disease.” Varin snickers.

Ozarrik and Zitirius seem to enjoy the comment as well.

“Oh come on. Zitirius gets to shack it up with his new mate.” Vali whines.

“He and I have nothing to do with your proclivities.” Zitirius whispers.

“I’m sorry, you can mate with a ‘he’?” Erevan turns to Zitirius.

“Yes, constantly, anywhere I like, but it won’t result in a child.” Zitirius answers his question.

“I think I lost something in translation days ago.” Erevan hangs his head.

There are more snickers as the others realize the error Erevan had made in his assumptions. The rest of the dinner goes smoothly and the orc clan retires for the night. Erevan spots Zitirius talking to the guardsmen at the gate. Erevan heads that way and overhears Zitirius planning the guard rotations for the day. Erevan offers himself up to cover a few holes in the defense. He helps rotate around giving guards breaks through the day, covers the front gate, and chats with the other guards through the day. Zitirius often sticks close to him and the two talk about what threats Erevan has seen out in the snowy wastes.

After his shift is over Erevan heads into the camp to find Varin entertaining a group of children. She recounts old tales, stories of the tribe, and manages to educate the kids on their history while weaving an interesting narrative. Erevan sits down and listens to it with the kids much to the amusement of Varin.

Dinner is relatively calm if not held in highly enjoyable company.

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Erevan goes out in the morning finding Warlord Graw’aud gathering a small party to go hunting with him. They are going after a dire boar that a hunter found the tracks of the day before. Erevan offers to go along with them and help them.

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Erevan helps them find the trail and then plans an ambush as he was trained by his father. The orcs go in all at once surprising the dire boar and kill it after a short struggle. They tie the boar up and haul it back. The beast ways close to 800 pounds, so Erevan gets under it and shoulders a lot of the weight as the others lift up on the sides.

Arriving back at the camp Varin has cleaned bones and carved them into dice like objects. She quickly fetches Erevan and enlists his help in reading divinations using them.

With some help interpreting them the two come to the conclusion that the boar was not the threat to the critters that they had divined earlier that week. The boar was mostly eating vegetation and corpses left behind by other creatures.

The dinner that night is filled with Praise for Erevan from the Warlord himself.

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Erevan goes out hunting and trapping small game with Zitirius. The two discuss Ziti’s relationship and how Erevan should navigate romance in the future. Erevan admits its something he’s never thought about and he has no current desires for companionship.

They come back to camp with quite a few more critters for the camp to start preparing for food. Erevan finds Warlord Graw’aud brawling with the camps elite warriors. They invite Erevan in to test his mettle against one of the guards.

Erevan is victorious in single combat. Graw’aud pulls Erevan aside as he compliments him. Out of ear shot the Warlord kneels down to be face to face with the Burkwood. His demeanor quickly changes.

“Don’t let Zitirius make you soft. The man has chosen a mate for life against the tradition of the Warlord title he wants to take from me. The boy is weak and seeks to weaken our Clan with his new ways.” Graw’aud says

“Because his partner is male?” Erevan asks.

“No, because if he takes the bind with his partner then he won’t be able to foster children and continue the Warlord’s holy quest of true racial diversity and unification.” Graw’aud explains.

“He is one of three candidates, is he not?” Erevan thinks about Ozarrik’s claim.

“Oz is a good boy, but he isn’t ready. And Rheensuf can’t.” Graw’aud turns away.

“Why can’t Rheensuf rule?” Erevan asks.

“We’re done talking.” Graw’aud walks away.

Erevan tries to not think anything of it and proceeds about his day until dinner time. During dinner he notices that Rheensuf sits near Graw’aud but the Warlord never addresses her nor looks at her.

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Erevan is brought by Ozarrik to attend a very special religious meeting. A meeting of minds and nature where the tribespeople each speak, followed by a ceremony of communing with nature, and a prayer lead by their youngest son Taghig. When Erevan is asked to speak he finds it hard.

“What has nature said to you recently?” Dhievni asks the teen Burkwood.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m a good listener, towards anyone. But, maybe nature did try to speak to me.” Erevan ponders the question.

“I have taken a few lives recently, but weighing on me more is the life that was taken from me. My father. I have been running, trying to survive, trying to find fights since it happened. Nature has shown me lessons again and again. The Winter Wolf was the alpha of the pack and I killed it just as my Dad was killed. I have continued a vicious cycle.” Erevan hangs his head as he thinks over the last two weeks.

“That’s very good Erevan.” Dhievni says.

“But before I continued the cycle, long before, nature had shown me a patch of unmarked graves surrounded by ancestor moths. Nature didn’t point me like a weapon towards my next target. Nature wanted me to reflect on those I’ve lost. On my father. Our families are everything. And I see that in this Clan more than I’ve seen it anywhere. This Clan is an unbreakable family.” Erevan nods to Dhievni.

The Speaker gives a curt nod back in approval before continuing with taking testimonies from the tribespeople.

As the ceremonies wind down and the last prayer is given the tribespeople disperse. None leave the camp today, as today is a day of rest. Erevan see’s Varin collecting a few ingredients from different forager’s baskets. He volunteers himself to help and works with Varin to make a dinner for the tribe.

Dinner is lovely and the family seem to be in high spirits.

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Erevan wakes up and enlists his help with the guards. Working under Warlord Graw’aud they spend a little more together. Erevan tries time and time again to explain the engineering science behind the ballista. Yet the Warlord continues to consider the ballista to be on par with a crossbow. Erevan waves this off and says he will prove him wrong.

Erevan eventually gets off guard duty and sits down alongside Taghig who is basket weaving. The teen Burkwood tries to introduce himself but the youngest son of the Warlord doesn’t reply or show any sign of recognizing Erevan. Eventually Erevan just watches the unique style of weaving Taghig has and begins mimicking his pattern to make baskets alongside him. The pattern seems to create fairly durable vessels.

“It’s like yours, right?” Erevan sets a basket next to Taghig.

The boy picks it up, examines it, and then sets it back down. He reaches over and pats Erevan on the leg as a minimal sign of approval. Taghig stands and leaves when he is done weaving. Erevan finishes what he was working on and then heads to dinner.

At dinner Erevan watches Taghig sit down next to the Speaker. He says a few words to her and begins eating. He cuts his food into the tiniest strips before eating. He doesn’t chew, just swallows, like he can’t bear tasting it.

“So why wouldn’t your little brother talk to me?” Erevan asks Ozarrik and Zitirius.

“He doesn’t talk to new people.” Zitirius says with a mouthful.

“That’s not entirely true. He gets a read for people, practices how to talk to them, and then will begin interacting with them.” Ozarrik answers.

“Why?” Erevan asks.

“He’s bonkers.” Zitirius snickers.

“There’s something wrong with him. We just don’t have a word for it.” Ozarrik further explains.

“Fascinating. Maybe next time I’ll prompt him with optional replies or give him leading questions.” Erevan says.

“Why do you care?” Ozarrilk asks curiously.

“I guess he has to be prepared for anything, and I have to study everything. We’d write some damn good field guides.” Erevan smiles to himself.

After dinner Erevan and Ozarrik turn in for the night. Erevan finally feels relaxed here and fully recovered from his fight against the Winter Wolf. It was the first time he truly felt himself start to settle in weeks.

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Erevan notices Rheensuf grabbing a wood chopping axe from a shed near the front gate. Erevan grabs a similar axe and follows her. He finds her chopping down a small tree so he finds one nearby and starts chopping too.

“Not enough room in the forest to go somewhere else? Had to do what I’m doing and do it here?” Rheensuf asks.

“Honestly, I just haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet.” Erevan replies.

“For good reason. I don’t like you or any human.” Rheensuf flares at him.

“Not technically human. They call me Crow.” Erevan shrugs.

“I don’t care what you are. Could you just leave me alone?” Rheensuf growls.

“Sure, if you don’t mind saving the best pieces of wood for me from what you collect today.” Erevan says uncaringly.

“Why would I do that?” Rheensuf narrows her eyes and tightens her grip on the axe.

“Two Gold.” Erevan says, wincing slightly at the thought of being on the receiving end of her swing.

“Alright.” She shrugs. “But no more talking.”

“Sure thing.” Erevan nods and gets to chopping.

He brings home the wood and swaps lumber around with Rheensuf to get the best lumber for his ballista. He hands over the two coins and she thanked him with a menacing stare.

Back at the camp Erevan finds Taghig working with two other orcs on making pottery. Erevan helps them with the kiln and lends as much support as he can. Taghig finishes a clay pot and hands it to Erevan.

“Thanks, I’m Erevan. What was your name?” Erevan asks.

“Tag.” The younger orc answers quickly before going back to making another clay vessel.

Having felt like his relationship was making small steps in the right direction Erevan didn’t push Tag much further.

Dinner is uneventful. Eventually Erevan turns in for the night.

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Erevan and Zitirius head out collecting flint for carving. The two talk the whole time. Erevan hears the sound of hooves in the distance approaching fast. He turns to see a cart pulled by six giant goats arriving at the front gate of the clan.

Zitirius gets two guards who are on the wall of the tribal fort to help. They reach down and grab Erevan as Zitirius boosts him up. They pull him over the wall far away from the sight of the front gate.

Erevan runs to his tent where he grabs his helm and secures it. After doing so he heads to the front gate.

The Speaker and the Warlord are already there talking to the dwarf traders who are at the gates. Erevan spots Darton and his piglet on the cart. They also spot him and Darton waves.

“You came this way to personally deliver the supplies?” Erevan asks, speaking in common for the first time in over a week.

“Making sure you live.” Darton says in jest. “We got everything you asked for.”

“Perfect.” Erevan walks to the back of the cart and looks over the supplies. “It’s much finer forged than I expected. Your fortress must be the real deal.”

“Yeah, they get kind of crazy over this stuff. You should come visit. Well, after our next mission.” Darton says rubbing the back of his head with one hand.

“Next mission?” Erevan asks.

“Oh right, we wanted to see if you were up for going on our next mission. Each of us are training right now, but they really like how you supported the team. And I’d feel safer with you on our team.” Darton says.

“Alright. I can check in when I’m done with the ballista.” Erevan says.

“Well, the mission is happening in fifteen days. We are just giving you fair warning. Maybe see if you can finish the ballista before then.” Darton gives a nervous thumbs up.

“Got it, well I better start on this now.” Erevan says as he excitedly starts unloading the cart. Darton and Erevan get all the parts unloaded and sat near Ozarrik’s tent.

“Stay safe friend.” Darton says to Erevan as he opens an arm.

“You too.” Erevan accepts the binding of friendship and the one armed hug.

Darton leaves, climbing back onto the cart, as it pulls out. The cart turns around and disappears back into the snowy wastes from where it emerged. Ozarrik approaches Erevan.

“Forgot you spoke common.” Ozarrik says. “And the dwarf was a little touchy.”

“Well, he thinks that I saved him. I did nothing so heroic. I killed a monster and found away to drag his ass home. Nothing crazy.” Erevan shrugs speaking in orcish once again.

“Good. Keep that. I like you humble.” Ozarrik smiles.

“Yeah, sure, you gonna help me build a ballista?” Erevan points to the heap of mechanisms and unshaped wood.

“I’ll do my best.” Ozarrik swallows his fear and stands at the ready to help.

Erevan shakes his head as he opens a crate with some tools in it. He starts organizing what he has and sets to work with getting a basic design modeled out. Using a few incantations to make things run smoother.

Erevan spends some time teaching Ozarrik the names of tools they are using before they head to dinner. The meal goes by much like the many dinners before it. Erevan turns in for the night early. Expecting much work ahead.