Harb walked towards the crafting house of the Black Skar village. He now wore clothes befitting a clan chief: a blue tunic and pants, a leather shoulder pad on his left arm crafted to look like blue feathers, and a pair of large animal tusks that were attached with a cord behind his head and draped over his shoulders. Probably most importantly, he had a good pair of boots, which had replaced the cloth wraps he had been wearing at the start of his time in this world. The air was chill, and while the cold hadn’t affected him much even when wearing just a loincloth, he did feel more comfortable wearing the new duds.
He was flanked by Shendis, whom he had designated the head Shaman of the merged clans. Behind them were three other Shamans: Shadbauh, the former head Shaman of the Black Skar clan, and the two former clan chiefs, Dura and Kirima. Dura actually led Kirima by a thin leather leash that was fastened around Kirima’s neck; she likely was just trying to humiliate the other woman. Harb had given Dura what she wanted, and she was now following his commands with enthusiasm rather than hostility. I need to find out what Kirima wants. If I let this petty torture go on too long, it will be harder to get her on my side.
The sounds of screaming made him halt in his tracks. “What’s that?” he asked.
“The cooks are preparing a meal,” Shadbauh said as she looked towards two small buildings that had smoke rising behind them.
That didn’t sound like the scream of an animal. “What are they cooking?” Harb asked.
“Likely some of the captives,” Shadbauh replied.
Harb wasn’t surprised by the answer—they were Orcs, after all—and he found that he wasn’t repulsed by the idea, either. He walked towards the buildings to see for himself, and his retinue followed. He didn’t have a plan or know what to expect.
Following the sounds, he arrived at a fenced area behind the buildings.
One of the buildings had fires burning in a bank of upright ovens. They resembled wood-burning pizza ovens, only several times larger. There was also a row of six metal cooking basins, each about six feet in diameter, as well as a seventh one that was nearly ten feet across. They looked to Harb like woks that giants might use to make an evening meal. These might be able to cook enough to feed hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of hungry Orcs and Goblins. Walls of stone or clay surrounded the basins. Each was covered with square tiles, and each had an opening where metal jutted out, allowing wood to be added to the fires that burned below each pot. Several Goblins busied themselves in the area by adding wood to the fires, stirring the contents of the basins with long poles with large flat metal spoons on the ends, chopping up meats and vegetables, and dumping buckets of food into the steaming metal cookpots.
They walked around the cooking station and entered the pen. Two naked men—Humans by the looks of them—were each bound to a wooden table. There was a Goblin using a small knife to shave the hair off the chest of one of them. The other captive was already devoid of hair and was bleeding from several cuts from the procedure. The Goblin noticed the group and started, cutting the man and eliciting a scream. The Goblin performed a crude bow. “How may I serve, master?” he asked.
The scene was pretty horrific. Just next to the tables with the captives was another long table that was covered in blood and small pieces of meat. Long knives and cleavers hung off hooks attached to the table. Harb spotted two Goblins loading up wood onto a small wagon and another who was filling a bucket with water from a well. He looked back at the Goblin holding the knife, who had stopped his work to wait for instructions from them. Harb felt that he had to say something to justify coming over there, but he couldn’t think of anything reasonable. He was rescued from looking like an idiot when Shendis asked, “Do you want him to bring you one of their members?”
The Goblin pointed his knife towards the fully shorn captive. “That one is already shaved, but it is a little on the small side,” he said eagerly. “I could shave this one up for you right quick if you prefer.” He held the knife next to the man’s pubis region, and the Human squirmed, pleaded, and then he pissed himself. The Goblin stuck the man in the side with his knife. “Here now, no trying to spoil the flavor.”
“I’ll pass on the penis,” Harb said.
“Are you sure?” Shendis asked. “Eating a fresh one can help with your size and stamina.” She glanced at his crotch.
Harb had understood the implication without the need for the blatant stare. “I’m fine in that regard,” he assured her. She looked at him dubiously, so he added, “I can prove it if you like.”
She nodded. “I will come to your quarters tonight once Fulgor has set.”
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Harb hadn’t been serious; that was just something that you said. Had the woman really thought that it was an actual proposition and accepted it? Not trusting himself to say anything, he simply nodded, turned, and continued on towards the crafting house. On the way, he thought about his previous interactions with Shendis. On his first night in this world, the Shaman had made some provocative comments to him, but at the time he had been just a soldier. She had cooled to him when he had become the clan leader. He didn’t know if it had to do with their respective ranks—maybe they weren’t allowed to proposition someone of a higher rank? He would have to surreptitiously ask Narg about it later.
The crafting house was a long building that housed all manner of crafting stations. One section had a small group of Goblins that were crafting darts. They had two Orc overseers, and Harb targeted one of the workers. The only descriptor, other than the man’s race, was ‘slave’, and Harb wondered at the relationship between the Orcs and Goblins. The Goblins were not in cages, and they roamed the camp freely; were they willing slaves? The next area of the building was a forge, and here the Orcs were the ones crafting, although there were several slaves bringing them materials. They passed a tailoring section and another one for carpentry, and they walked down a very long hallway before arriving at their destination.
The imbuing room was far cleaner than any of the crafting rooms that they’d passed. Where the other rooms flowed into each other, this one was set apart. Harb wondered if they just wanted privacy or if there was a functional need for the design. There were several shelves with ingredient bottles and bins with rolled parchment. Two robed Goblins seemed to be in charge of the room; one was giving instructions to two Orcs, and the other stood near a raised stone circle on the other side of the room near a staircase that led to a walkway above. Harb focused on the Goblin giving instructions. The man wasn’t a slave at all; he was classified as a Goblin Thaumaturge. The other Goblin was identified as a Summoner.
The two Orcs left the room, and the Thaumaturge turned to them. “Welcome everyone. For those of you who do not know me, my name is Luvoiz. We have spent the day readying the materials for this demonstration, and the preparations are nearly complete.” The Goblin spoke in a refined but heavily accented voice. Harb thought that he sounded like the little mustached guy from the Agatha Christie movies. “Please make your way to the balcony, where you will be able to observe everything more easily.” He motioned to the staircase.
The stone circle turned out to contain what looked to Harb to be a summoning circle. Once he was on the balcony, he could see that there was a square shape that the circle was inscribed within. There were other shapes and what looked like runes or glyphs within and around the circle. Chairs were positioned in an alcove near where they entered, and they all sat and waited for the presentation.
The two Orc assistants returned, escorting an Orc to a table opposite the summoning circle and having him lie down upon it. Once they left, Luvoiz went over to a cabinet and brought out what looked like a glass or crystal potion bottle that lacked a stopper. The Thaumaturge cupped the spherical bottom of the bottle in one hand and used the index finger of his other hand to cover the opening. He brought it over to the table and carefully set it on the forehead of the prone Orc. When he removed his finger from the opening, blue gas began to bubble out and descend onto the head of the Orc, who breathed in the smoke. It reminded Harb of the smoke you’d see when a piece of dry ice was placed in hot water. Luvoiz then went over to another cabinet, where he retrieved a small box. He placed the box on the table, removed a dark stone, and placed it on the Orc’s chest.
Luvoiz began some incantations in a booming voice, but Harb couldn’t understand the words. The stone began to glow in a soft red light. Harb saw a faint light bloom within the Orc as his essence was drawn closer to the stone. The patient didn’t seem to notice, although the potion was likely anesthetizing him. The process took several minutes and culminated with a bright flash of red light erupting from the stone. The light shone brightly before dimming to a soft glow. Luvoiz placed the stone back in the box but left the bottle on the Orc’s forehead.
The Summoner then began to cast a spell. An orange glyph appeared in the air in front of him. He cast again, and this time Harb could see a faint glow around him like an aura. He faced the summoning circle, beginning an incantation, and after a moment the runes within the circle began to glow brightly. Light sprang up from the edges of the square to form a pyramid of blue light that enclosed the circle inscribed within it. The point of the pyramid was level with the balcony, but the shape itself was translucent, so Harb could see a form beginning to take shape in the center of the circle. It was a green-skinned humanoid wearing robes. It had the build of a Human, but its brow was ridged, and there were several bumps on its face and hands; Harb’s interface only listed it as a demon and did not specify the type or list anything else about the creature.
Harb was amazed at the spectacle. This was the most impressive display of magic that he had experienced in this world, and he vowed to learn to harness such magic. He supposed that he could be trained, but he far preferred the idea of procuring another skill book to do the work for him.
The Summoner spoke with the demon in a language that Harb didn’t understand, and after a moment, the demon bowed and walked towards him. Luvoiz then brought the box containing the stone over to the circle and climbed over the stone barrier, which came up to his stomach. When he was inside, the pyramid surrounding the circle disappeared, although the runes and the circle itself continued to shine brightly.
Luvoiz reached up and raised the stone to the creature’s forehead. When the stone touched the demon, it glowed brighter and slowly sank into its flesh. Once firmly attached, the stone went dun. The summoning circle grew dark as well, and the demon crossed the threshold, walked past Luvoiz, and stepped over the stone barrier. The demon seemed to glide as it walked, and it looked like its feet barely touched the ground.