by Seth Ring
“Who were you trying to capture with this trap?” Thorn asked the hunched Orc Shaman.
“So you did know it was a trap? I was wondering about that.”
“We suspected, but not enough to back out.”
“Ah, yes, it is always hard when your goal is so very close. But that was part of the trap as well, you know? Asking the Cog Priests to wander around the camp to attract potential attackers. As for who I was targeting, hmm, any number of people really. My biggest wish was to get the Lady of the Old Wood, but I probably would have had to trade half my camp for her, so in some regards I’m quite glad that she did not come. I was also interested in that traitor who was with you in the woods.”
“Lady of the Old Wood? You mean the Elven Queen?” Thorn asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to remember why that name tugged at his mind.
“Queen? Hah, no.
The Lady of the Old Wood is the one who has woken the forest to fight against us. She seems to be like an Elf but she is different in some way. No, the Elf Queen does nothing but flee from us, hiding like a rabbit in her little hole.”
“Hole? You mean giant moving tree city? You are talking about Thilvena, right?”
“Tree, hole, what’s the difference if you just hide? She refuses to meet us in combat. An utter disgrace to even the idea of a leader.”
“Or maybe she is smart.” Thorn shrugged.
“No, if she was smart, she would have…” Arhtu stopped and chuckled. “Ah, but that is neither here nor there. Enough about the worthless Elves, let us talk about the matter at hand. Specifically, you.”
“Before that, I have one more question. If you don’t mind of course.”
“Sure,” Arhtu shrugged. “We have the time, so what is on your mind?”
“If you are here, who is fighting over at Twin Bay? And what are those giant pillars of flame?”
“Hmph. Two of our sister tribes are in charge of the assault on the harbor. They fancy themselves the stronger, more, uh, Orcish tribes, and seized the honor of running headlong into death for themselves. I had to respect their wishes of course. Besides, I was waiting for guests. As for the pillars, they are the remains of the towers that were set up for the attack.” Arhtu’s expression was dark. “It would seem that someone on your side is very familiar with the Evil Eyes that were being used. But enough stalling, let us talk about you.”
“Hold on, sorry. One last question. This is it; I promise.” Thorn held up his hands to placate the annoyed Shaman. “How did you know we would be coming tonight?”
“Hah, that was the easiest part. You either would attack tonight or you would die tomorrow. A simple choice really. I just assumed, rightly I might add, that you knew of the Cog Priests. Anything else?”
“No, no, I’m good for now.”
“Good, so let’s talk about you.”
“Hm? What about us? We were just stopping by to check out your camp?” Thorn tried to appear as casual as possible as he looked around. “It really is a nice camp, but we should be going. Have a lot of things to do.”
“I’m not sure that leaving this soon is polite.”
“Eh, sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.”
As the two of them bantered back and forth, both Thorn and Arhtu were carefully examining each other, looking for weakness. Thorn scanned the gathered Orcs that completely surrounded the forge and the empty area in front of the two furnaces. Unfortunately, there were no gaps. After running a quick estimate of the number of Orcs that surrounded them, Thorn came up with close to two thousand. From the way they stood in silence, Thorn could tell that they were two thousand elite Orcs as well.
If Thorn was feeling great he would have considered taking the chance, but as it was, he was not even confident in his ability to take on a fraction of the Orc soldiers that surrounded them. Though all four of his companions could call for their bonded companions, even four giant wolves would not solve the pickle that they were in.
At the same time that Thorn was looking for a weakness to exploit so that they could escape, Arhtu was examining Thorn and the other four players. Apart from his brief encounter with Thorn, Arhtu had never interacted with travelers before, though he had heard a lot about them from other Orcs. The longer he looked at them, the more impressed he was. Not only was their equipment top of the line, they were obviously well trained.
He had been watching when they had taken down the yellow robed Cog Priest and the sheer offensive capability they displayed made him nervous. Even with the yellow robed priest’s magical shield, Gorlik, Thorn, and GhillieGhillie had killed him almost instantly. In fact, Arhtu was confident that the Shadow Assassin could have done it without Thorn’s abnormally large crossbow.
As he thought about the monster crossbow that he had seen in Thorn’s hands, Arhtu’s hazy eyes swept the area. The crossbow had been too big to miss, but now it was gone. Vanished into the traveler’s mysterious space, undoubtedly. There were too many things about the travelers that Arhtu was curious about. Things that he longed to seize for himself and his tribe. While he had truly been disappointed at first, the more he thought about it, the more that Arhtu was excited that he had caught five travelers in his trap.
Realizing that there was no way out of the Orc formation that would not get his entire team killed, Thorn gave a small sigh and turned his gaze back to Arhtu.
“Tell me, what are the chances we can just call this a wash and all go home?”
“Go home? Ahahaha!”
Arhtu’s chuckles turned into a wracking cough that caused him to hunch even more. Waving off his guard who stepped forward, Arhtu spat on the ground and sighed. “You must forgive me; age is a real burden. Why don’t we continue this in my tent? You are my guests, after all. We can sit and have some refreshments.”
“Thorn, should we…” SubtleScythe whispered, his hand tightening on his crossbow.
[No, just go along with it for now.] Thorn replied in the team chat.
“I would be delighted to accompany you back to your tent. However, my friends have some things to take care of back at the camp and will not be able to experience your hospitality.” Thorn said to Arhtu evenly. “In fact, they should probably get going now. Could I impose on you to escort them to the edge of the camp?”
“My, how bold.” For a moment, Arhtu’s eyes gleamed, but the light was gone so fast that Thorn was not sure it had ever been there. “I am not sure how I feel about visitors who walk into my camp, kill my very special Cog Priest and then waltz out.”
“Cog Priest? You mean the three gentlemen over there?” Thorn lifted his large arm and pointed to three black robed Orcs standing around fifty feet back.
“I mean the Cog Priest you killed.”
“Honestly, you should be thanking us.” Thorn smirked, glancing down at the scattered loot that the Orc Shaman with the yellow robe had dropped.
“Thanking you?” It was Arhtu’s turn to have a furrowed brow.
“Yeah, thanking us. A great deception was being carried out, right under your nose. A fraud, a con, a sham, even. That Orc Shaman was pretending to be one of the very esteemed Priests of the Cogs of the Sun. Such a foul lie could not be borne, so we assisted you in taking him down.”
Silence reigned as everyone in the area stared at Thorn who simply smiled casually. The whole camp had felt off to Thorn and the rest of his team, and they had been proven correct when the trap was sprung. At first Thorn had been surprised that Arhtu would have used Cog Priests as bait, considering how important they were to the Orc war effort. However, when his sweeping [Spiritual Sense] found the three Orcs in black cloaks his confusion cleared. While the black robes hid their identities, they could not fool Thorn’s [Spiritual Sense] and [Earth Sense]. Under the black robes hung the metal tokens of the Cog Sun, the symbol of the Cog Priests.
“Haha, you got me.” Arhtu serious expression faded and he flashed a subtle grin. “But I still don’t see why I should let any of you go.”
Reachi
ng up, Thorn unclipped his helmet, ignoring the Orcs around him who reached for their weapons.
“Hm, how much do you know about travelers?” Thorn asked, holding his helmet in his hand.
“I confess, not as much as I hope to after we chat.”
“That is what I suspected.” Thorn said, making his helmet vanish from his hand by putting it into his inventory. “One piece of information about travelers that is particularly important is that when we die, we come back to life.”
“Oh, I know that.” Arhtu smirked, his eyes abruptly blazing with a fanatical light as he gazed at Thorn. “I’m quite interested in the source of your endless vitality.”
“You need to let me finish. I’m afraid you’ll continue to be curious, because when we die we don’t come back to life where we died.”
Frowning, the fire in Arhtu’s eyes dimmed, returning to their blurry calm.
“Ah. That is indeed a problem.” Arhtu said, his voice quavering as he looked at the five players.
“So, the real question is, can you even keep us here?” Thorn asked with a shrug, unequipping his armor.
Dressed in a set of nobles’ clothing that would be much more common in the capital city than in the middle of an Elven forest, Thorn stood out even more than normal among the Orcs. Taking another small step forward, he towered above Arhtu, a wide smile crossing his face.
“What do you say? I’ll enjoy your hospitality, you let my friends go about their business. We can bring an end to this in a way that is at least somewhat satisfying for both of us.”
“Ah, I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” Arhtu looked around as if he was despondent before shooting Thorn a glance from the corner of his eye. “Though I wonder if you would really be willing to kill yourself. Death is not something to take lightly you know. There must be a cost since you did not turn to it immediately. Tell me, are you willing?”
“Huh, I don’t know. Let me think about it.” Thorn said sarcastically. “On the one hand I could stay here and let you torture the secret of immortality out of me, or I could just take a break and respawn tomorrow. Tough choice, tough choice.”
“Ai, you young people are too energetic. I can’t keep up.” Arhtu gave a sigh and shrugged. “Fine. You have made your point. Your friends are free to go. But you will stay with me.”
“Sure, that was my idea all along.” Thorn nodded to the Shaman before turning to face the rest of his team.
“Are you sure about this, Thorn? We can just fight it out.” GhillieGhillie said, stealing a glance at Arhtu.
“No, there is no point. Let's keep the deaths down to a minimum if possible. You can report what happened to Corvo. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
Giving his team mates an easy grin, Thorn nodded goodbye, sending them a message at the same time.
[Get back to Corvo as quickly as you can and ask him to contact this Lady of the Old Wood. If the Orcs wanted to capture her, she is undoubtedly a potential ally. Don’t engage with Arhtu directly, I have a really bad feeling about that. When you get out of here, be sure to lose the Orcs as fast as possible. They will undoubtedly try to stop you from getting back to the harbor, so instead of heading that way, try to reconnect with the Charging Wolf Army. I’m sure that between Corvo, Mina, and Athena, they will come up with something to get me out of here. I don’t know if I’ll be able to communicate while I’m a prisoner here, so tell them that they can’t rely on inside intel from me.]
“You know I don’t think…” Zandibear started to speak up, but Thorn silenced him with a look.
“This is a direct order,” Thorn’s gaze was heavy. “There is no reason to waste more lives than necessary.”
“But!” Zandibear felt a touch and stopped.
Gorlik shook his head, his hand resting on Zandibear’s shoulder. Giving Thorn a long look, the Shadow Assassin took his hand back and spoke softly.
“We will follow your directions, sir.”
“Good. Zandibear?”
“Yes, sir.” The Elf sighed in defeat. “We’ll retreat.
“Stay safe, Thorn.” GhillieGhillie said, patting Thorn on the arm, her face somber.
At Arhtu’s command ten large Orc soldiers brought SubtleScythe, Zandibear, and Gorlik to the edge of the camp. After watching them disappear into the forest, Thorn smiled and turned back to Arhtu.
“What was that you said about a tent and some refreshments? I must confess, I am starving.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
*ding*
“Well, that’s not good.” Sitting in a large Orc tent, Thorn stared at the window that had popped up in front of him. Clicking on his new title, he could barely suppress his sigh.
This was not the first time that Thorn had found himself unable to communicate through the system, so he was not overly worried about that. Instead, it was the fact that his captors were able to take his gear that he was concerned with. The [Prisoner] title was quite restrictive and would prevent him from recovering his full strength. Though he could equip his gear to try and escape, if he failed he risked his enemy taking it from him.
If he chose not to equip his gear, he would only be able to operate at a maximum of fifty percent of his natural abilities, and even that would take a while. He had already felt his recovery slowing down to an absolute crawl. Doing a quick self-assessment with his [Spiritual Sense], Thorn estimated that he was only around twenty six percent recovered.
“Tea?”
Thorn looked up and saw Arhtu offering him a cup of tea with a shaky hand. Slightly startled, Thorn took the cup carefully, nodding his thanks. Pouring himself a cup, the old looking Orc took a seat across from Thorn, sitting down with a comfortable sigh.
“Much better, much better. Few things nicer than a hot cup of tea, you know.” Arhtu said, blowing at the top of his cup. “It’s one thing I often miss when campaigning, so I brought some of my own. You’d think that the Elves would be great at growing tea but honestly, they’re pretty terrible farmers.”
“Are Orcs good farmers?” Thorn asked as he lifted his cup to his lips.
“Orcs? Hah! That would be a sight, huh? Maybe if they found a plant that needed to eat meat to grow. No, Orcs are much worse farmers than Elves. We’re more interested in building and fighting really. Most of us really value our freedom so the idea of being tied down to something is naturally repulsive.”
“Is that why you organize into tribes? But what about this whole invasion? It seems pretty well organized and structured for people who are not into those things.”
“Who told you that Orcs are not into structure?” Arhtu chuckled, placing his cup down on a small side table. “We are highly structured. If my fist is stronger, my words are obeyed unquestionably. Unless someone thinks they are stronger than me, they will follow my directions. I lost to the Red Scourge, so my tribe has come to fight. The rest of the tribes are in the same boat. Our structure is quite firm, it's just more practical than the social structures of other races.”
“Huh. Interesting.” Thorn said, finishing his tea with another sip.
“But enough about tribe politics, I’m much more interested in you.” Arhtu shot a glance at Thorn as he poured himself another cup of tea. “More tea? Here, just put it on the table. Help yourself. I was pretty sure that I had cookies somewhere, but I must have eaten them all.”
After hesitating for the briefest moment, Thorn pulled a large plate of pastries from his inventory, placing them down next to the pot of tea.
“If you’re comfortable with it, you can try some of mine.” Thorn gestured for Arhtu to help himself. “Made by the head cook of Moon Wolf Citadel. They’re quite delicious. I like the ones with the strawberry jam the best.”
“Ooh, don’t mind if I do.” Arhtu’s wrinkled face broke into a smile, showing his thick tusks as he carefully selected three of the small pastries.
Silence fell over the tent as Thorn and Arhtu ate their pastries and sipped at their tea. If it had not been for the weakness that his b
ody felt and the imposing looking Orc guards standing at the tent’s entrance, Thorn would have thought that he was simply having a nice visit with the Orc Shaman. Smiling at the incongruity, Thorn selected another pastry and waited for Arhtu to speak.
“So, tell me about yourself.” Arhtu finally said, placing his cup down on the side table after drinking the last of his tea.
“Me? I’m a traveler. I’ve been completing some quests for Northern Angoril. Nothing else to say, really.”
“Hmm, I don’t know that I would call leading the Northern Angoril counterattack nothing.”
“No, I’m not leading it.” Thorn shook his head with a smile. “That responsibility falls to someone else.”
“Uh huh. The Earl of Scorchfrost, right? Though I’ve heard that Northern Angoril has deployed a few different armies.”
“I’m really only familiar with what is going on with our force.” Thorn replied, his smile turning bland. “And I have to admit, I was surprised to see so many Orcs. You really pulled out all the stops for this invasion, didn’t you?”
“Actually, this is only about a fourth of our total forces. As I mentioned, we are not an overly cohesive force. However, when the War Chief moves, everyone moves. Most of the tribes are busy conquering the southern continent. Very few of us were actually deployed here to Rasyn.”
“Do you mean that this was a distraction?”
“Sort of. We needed slaves, so our advisor suggested that we start here. The Elves were isolated enough that we could gain a large number of slaves with the cooperation of their new leader. The idea was that by the time Northern Angoril responded it would simply be too late. We were largely successful, though most Elves have retreated to that annoying teleporting city. Still, once we capture it, we’ll have a perfect launching point for bypassing Northern Angoril’s defenses. Then, once we have conquered Southern Angoril, we can start our invasion of the northern continent.”
“Should you be telling me all of this?” Thorn asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the old looking Orc.