Fate - First Reply Everybody Starts Somewhere

[Zeri Rekani]

(Pixabay)​

Zeri got the small fire going in the low light of the fading day.

She had established a modest camp. A small lean-to tent made of hide, her bedroll laid out beneath it. Her traveling pack she had at the foot of her bedroll. Between two close trees she had tied a line of twine, hanging from this line were the small game she had hunted and the fish she had caught, ready to be skinned and prepared for a meal or dried and salted for preservation.

Zeri crouched beside the small fire of her camp. Leaned forward on her hands and blew into it gently and added more dry tinder to the flame.

A lunar cycle had passed since The Amalgamation attacked Bhathairk. The city--all her fellow tribesorcs and the humans and the elves and everyone else who called Bhathairk home--had gone through its collective mourning. Zeri's family, by the grace of the Spirits, were all fine in the aftermath, but many others were not so lucky. So the tears were shed, for a long time they were. And once the collective pain of the city had become bearable, the rebuilding had begun.

They worried fiercely for her, her Ma and her Pa and her brothers. Zeri, despite the horrors she witnessed in the Amalgamation's attack, still had within her the unquenchable drive to explore. To wander. She loved her family and she loved Bhathairk, but she wished also to see these other cities she had merely read about, wished to meet legendary warriors like Jirou and Eren'thiel Xyrdithas and Caliane Ruinë (wished, perhaps, in the deepest and most unspoken desire of mind to become one herself), wished to experience the extent of what the world had to offer.

It was the incessant call to adventure that many across Arethil heard and heeded. Her older sister had, and Zeri was following in her footsteps.

Thus, her little expeditions from home. Like this one. She hadn't gone far, or even into lands wholly unfamiliar. Just some kilometers south along the Bystra river, only removed enough from its shores that the sound of its flowing waters was newly inaudible. She practiced. Practiced traveling, being self-sufficient, spending days away from home at a time: the bare essentials in the life of an adventurer. It came with a certain ease, her skills learned from her life in Bhathairk coming in handy. The loneliness of the road was perhaps the most prominent obstacle. Yes, she knew that bandits and raiders and the occasional monster lurked in the wilderness and along the open road, but she felt fairly confident. Fairly. Somewhat. She had her hunting spear and her bow. Right? She could defend herself. Everybody started somewhere, even the warriors of legend and song. She had to start somewhere too.

A sound. Catching her ear.

Zeri looked up from her tending of the fire. Saw someone approaching. In all her time spent on these brief expeditions, no one had come across one of her camps.

Until tonight.

 

[HotepseAken]

Clack... Clack... Clack... Clack...

Bronze on stone, on wood, on dirt. The jingle of chain, the clash of metal on metal. The sound stopped suddenly...

A pair of glowing eyes in the darkness of fading light, looking over the fire. White, like light reflecting off a cat, yet taller than a man by over half. The figure began to approach, the eyes bobbing slightly to the left after every clack... that sounded.

"Im Hotep Sai," intoned a deep voice, methodical and patient. An imposing black figure emerged, charms and jewelry worn in layers, only a waist cloth of white linen worn for modesty. In its hand it held a stall, bronze staff tipped with a set of scales, the source of the noise.

Clack... clack... Clack.

The Anaphite, HotepseAken, came to a stop besides the camp. His gaze, ethereal and imposing, settled on the young Orc with both ears twitching slightly; his right leg seemed covered in sand, though he hadn't bothered to brush it off.

He looked away from her, taking in the whole camp for a moment, before noticing the catch from the day, "Hunter Goddess blesses you this eve," he added, returning to her, "my name is HotepseAken; the Grand Physician. Might I sit a while? I believe it is nearly evening."

He approached closer; he was a terrifying figure though bore no weapons. In fact, he carried almost nothing, save a linen pouch worn as a belt across the hips. The disarming nature of a seemingly pacifist wanderer was contrasted by the oddness of a jackal-headed giant complimenting your hunting skills, then asking to share a fire.

Still. Wasn't the strangest thing this poor child had experienced, if Hotepse's local lore was halfway up to snuff. He wasn't here for this 'Amalgamation', but had heard of it's effects.

"You must be quite the individual," HotepseAken complimented, "to survive in this region alone. I do hope I have not intruded."

 

[Zeri Rekani]

Glowing eyes out of the last light of day, brighter than the meager rays of the setting sun. Zeri, with an instinctive fear, scrambled over to her lean-to and secured her hunting spear and stood up and brandished it, yet she was hardly the picture of a menacing warrior.

Spirits-Spirits-Spirits! He was tall. He was so tall. He was too tall. This was a mistake. This was a mistake! She shouldn't have left home. What would Jirou do? How fast could she run? How fast could the giant run? He had the head of a jackal. Fangs. Sharp fangs. Of course sharp fangs. What was he?? She had never seen or heard--

Hunter Goddess blesses you this eve.

Zeri stopped tensing. Blinked.

My name is HotepseAken; the Grand Physician. Might I sit a while?

A slant of slight puzzlement brought down her brow. She wasn't...expecting that. Not at all. Her reaction wouldn't have been nearly as stark and frightful had she seen him walking through the paths of Bhathairk; she'd seen a number of rare races and peoples come through the great Orcish stronghold, some going east, some going west, some traveling by land and others by sea. But out here, out in the wilderness (even if she admittedly was only on said wilderness's metaphorical doorstep), it was certainly a different story. Especially having just pondered about her own ability to stave off predations from bandits or monsters or what else on her own.

Zeri lowered her spear. Still grasped it in both hands, but lowered it such that the point was nearly touching the forest floor. She said sheepishly, "Oh, um, ah...I'm...I'm Zeri." And then added even more sheepishly, "I'm sorry. Sorry. You just startled me. That's all. I-It's not your fault, I heard you coming, but I...well I...wasn't...expecting...you. Your height. Your size. You're huge, is what I'm trying to say."

She took a breath. Let her shoulders slump and relax.

He was friendly enough, HotepseAken. Polite. Introduced himself. She didn't know about a "Hunter Goddess," but it sounded nice. But what was he? He had the body of an orc (most would say "body of a man," but Zeri's sense of normalcy was skewed toward her orcish heritage and upbringing) and the head of a jackal. A jackal. She'd seen them when out with her father in the Taagi Baara Steppes, and there were apparently other species of jackal in the Aberresai Savannah as well. Wow, look at his ears. Zeri herself, because of her elven blood, had ears larger than full-blooded orcs. Often when she was younger it was a source of childish jabs at her from other children, who would say things like, "Wow, you can hear tomorrow coming, huh?"

You must be quite the individual to survive in this region alone. I do hope I have not intruded.

Zeri consciously touched her cheek with one hand, held the spear loosely with the other. "I'm, heh, really not. I'm not that far from home, truth be told. And you haven't intruded. I'm glad to meet--Oh! You can sit. I'm sorry, I didn't say so earlier."

She turned and set down her spear back inside her lean-to and turned back and asked, "Where are you heading to? Bhathairk? I don't...I'll be honest, I've never seen"--she gestured with both hands toward him--"you. Somebody like you. And I've seen a lot of different people in Bhathairk, but not...you get it."

HotepseAken

 

[HotepseAken]

"Thank you," HotepseAken replied to her many, many questions, opting to take them as they seemed pertinent, "I shall." He drove his staff into the ground and shifted his weight, minding his limp.

She was quite adorable, stammering that way. It was a reaction HotepseAken was used to, really. He was, after all, a superstitious figure in many mythologies.

"You need not apologize," he comforted, unlatching his belt and falling to a kneel, "my people are a reclusive sort; you've likely never noticed us before."

It was probably true; there was a cairn six miles off, plus that undercity, both of which the Anaphite had eyes in. Ancient as they were, forgotten places were something of a habitat to the Jackalfolk.

"Besides, I don't think I've been in this Bhathairk," he added, thinking over what he last knew of the region. The crypts, the sigil, and... no, a city in this age didn't come to mind readily. He knew it was there, of course, "no, I am on my way to a village to the west, in the fens. I have heard of an unusual outbreak of disease there, and I wish to investigate it."

As a mendicant physician HotepseAken was prone to outright charity help, and so was constantly moving. "I do not doubt that you've heard of other names for my folk; we are dubbed Ruin-Wraiths by some, especially the southern Orcs. I'm certain your shamans are aware of our existence."

That was no certain bet, but he wasn't going to insult her by assuming ignorance. He looked across the fire at her, his wars twitching, picking up every sound in the forest...

Deer feet, a squirrel fight, even what sounded like a pair of rabbits burrowing; those had to be nearby.

"After I have finished with my investigation," Hotepse continued, pulling his satchel belt over and in front of him, "I suppose I should appear in this city you have mentioned. Is it particularly large and well populated?" He quizzed, more to pass time than really caring, though his voice took a tone of excitement and genuine curiosity as he added "perhaps any doctors of your people? I am always seeking local lore on healing to better my own art."

He had the feeling that she was still a little on edge, and so opted to talk about things that were evocative of comfort. Curing disease required that, especially. Bedside manners, it had come to he called by the mortal races. Common decency, the Anaphite dubbed it.

He unfolded his satchel, never looking away from this curious, lone Orc. Inside were a few dozen knives, bladed spoons, fine instruments of precision and dexterity. Tweezers, forceps, vials of distilled medical alchemy. This was not the collection of a common Barber, no, this was an expert's collection of exactly what he found himself needing during operation.

To someone with total ignorance, they might see similarities in torture tools unfortunately. Such was their abstract complexity.

HotepseAken unstopped a small pot of ceramic, and a strong smell of vinegar or alcohol radiated from it. It was a disinfectant, something to cleanse impurities from his tools. Part of HotepseAken's nightly ritual, to clean and inspect his impliments. He waited for a time to better understand this camping companion, listening to her speak, before asking "Would you mind if I cleaned as we spoke? I must ensure my instruments of healing are cared for properly. I promise, I shan't miss a word you speak."

His ears twitched, pivoting around to face her almost directly. His glowing eyes didn't show where he was looking, though his muzzle dipped as if he were looking down.

 

[Zeri Rekani]

My people are a reclusive sort; you've likely never noticed us before.

Oh yes, that was true. But it was amazing how she had only gone such a relatively short distance from Bhathairk and already met someone of a people she had never before seen. She'd perhaps gone farther out into the Steppes to the west or the Reach to the south or the foothills of The Spine to the east, but those ventures were all under the supervision of her Ma or her Pa or both. Here, she was out on her own, roughly for the first time.

"Oh? You've never been to Bhathairk at all before?" Zeri beamed with a brimming swell of pride. She was delighted that a stranger from a far away land would be coming to her home, as she envisioned that denizens of other great cities like Alliria or Elbion or Vel Anir would receive her.

Only. He wasn't. HotepseAken was going to the west, into the Taagi Baara. An outbreak of disease? Why would he want to go somewhere that was plagued like that? That was a matter for the shamans and medicine orcs to handle. Was he a shaman? Did he know some things of natural medicines and remedies like the medicine orcs?

Ruin-Wraiths. That sounded...scary. Like ghosts or geists or specters. Things a lot of the Templar Chapters based in the east fought. Probably other Chapters too, but Zeri didn't know for sure, it was mostly those eastern based chapters came through Bhathairk on occasion.

I'm certain your shamans are aware of our existence.

Zeri nodded vigorously. She was certain too. She didn't...know...exactly, for sure, but she was certain.

I suppose I should appear in this city you have mentioned. Is it particularly large and well populated...perhaps any doctors of your people?

Zeri gently clapped her hands together and briefly rose up to the tips of her toes before settling back down on her heels. "Yes, and yes! Bhathairk is called the Great Stronghold for good reason. I don't..." Zeri scratched at the back of her neck, "have an adequate way to relate the size of it to you, b-but it is big! It's my home. I've lived there all my life. There are people who come from all across Arethil, as I'm sure they do in Alliria and elsewhere. For what you're looking for, I'd go to the Great Bazaar. You'll find medicine orcs and shamans, but also foreign apothecaries and alchemists and traders from afar, even some College students all the way from Elbion."

Hotepse opened his satchel, pulled out some tools, and the first thing Zeri immediately thought of was that they were grooming implements. Her eyes gleamed for a moment, then faded in mild disappointment: they weren't. Not intended to be, anyway. Too many pieces didn't fit the mold. They were probably things he would use in his investigation, things the medicine orcs or foreign apothecaries might readily recognize.

"Oh no, no, no, I don't mind at all." Zeri herself went to the line of hunting kills she had strung up. Unhooked a big, juicy fish and fetched her kinfe from her traveling pack and went to sit before the fire and began preparing it to be cooked.

"You said you were going west, right? I'm guessing this village is across the Bystra river. How were you planning on crossing it? It's an awfully deep and wide river. You know, you could..." She averted her eyes shyly, not knowing why she did in the moment, then looked back to him, "come to Bhathairk with me tomorrow. It'd be easy to secure a ferry across the river. There are plenty of tribesorcs who fish from small boats who do it for free. I know a few."

And then she knew the reason for the sudden shyness. What might Hotepse think of her home? What if he, the first representative of a people she had never seen before, didn't like it? Like an inversion of her earlier delight, a mild trepidation seized her.

HotepseAken

 

[HotepseAken]

"You've never been to Bhathairk at all before?" she asked, eyes lighting up with excitement. HotepseAken, the dour sort, kept from showing outwardly how endearing the display was. After a little longer, talk returned to her home city; HotepseAken put little stock in claims of grandeur: He remembered when the now-lost Bridge of Alenar was built. How quickly it sunk once those people had vanished from the world. 'Grand', 'Large', it was all subjective.

That wasn't to say he was dismissive. It very likely was the largest of its type for miles, as far as an Orc could walk without needing to reprovision. That was quite a while, knowing their culture, which esposed self-reliance like this. Admirable, honestly. Then, if this one wasn't far away from home, she was likely practicing and learning the ropes safely.

The Anaphite watched casually as she took down a fish and prepared to clean it; he offered to clean it himself, "It is only fair to lend a hand, if you do not need the practice," he explained, producing his scalpal. It was an unnaturally sharp knife, heavily enchanted with sharpness. The small size of the blade was perfect for slicing and cutting with precision.

If she turned it over to him, his deft knifework would move like a blur. Careful cuts, rapid slices, like a spider webbing its prey. The movements were perfectly economical, as if he had done this with his eyes closed enough times to know exactly where each fishy bone and organ was located. In all honesty, he could say that about most species. With a fluid motion, bone and guts and head came free with a slide; only a thin film of flesh narrowly clung to some rips and vertibrae, the scalpal having danced between and around bones.

In either event, he listened to her talk about the river; When last he had come through, the river had been narrow enough for him to leap it near where it joined its cousin. Had it expanded so significantly? He doubted most boats of humble means could carry him, and he was destitute of worldly wealth by choice...

"I will have to see, I suppose," he reflected, returning to cleaning his implements. He hadn't used them in a few days, but maintaining his tools was important. He looked over his tools, carefully moving through them one at a time.

Her offer to join her in the morning was.. tempting. It would be pleasant to have company for a day, he had run from the Spine floodplains over the last week and most of it had been solemn and quiet. It would be enjoyable to walk with a companion for a time, and perhaps see what was worth seeing in this new city of hers.

"I believe I shall join you," he replied after a moment, "Travel is a lonesome path, and to have company during it would be welcome indeed."

He looked up, gazing at her for a moment before actually smiling; it was a rare thing, and not readily translated by the canine face. All the same, he quietly put his tools away, rolled up his belt, and returned it to his waist.

"If you've not traveled far before," offered HotepseAken, "perhaps I might share some of the area around this land; Would you like to hear of the Spine? Or perhaps further south? I have crossed the world several times, and I am certain I might have something to share."

 

[Zeri Rekani]

Zeri looked up from her--hardly started--work on preparing the fish. Said, "Thank you. That's quite nice of you to do. If..." She swayed her shoulders slightly, "you're hungry you can have some. I won't be able to eat all of it myself. Not in one sitting."

She handed the fish off to him, and...wow. Zeri thought herself to be pretty adept at it, preparing and cleaning and filleting fish (and other kinds of hunting kills), but Hotepse's quick and precise movements left her dazzled. She was just staring at him from across the small campfire, watching him work with wide eyes gathering all they could and mouth left open in said dazzlement.

He was done. Oh, he was done! Zeri snapped herself out of her reverie and went back briefly to her traveling pack and secured the parts for the simple cooking spit: the skewer, and the two rods to hold it up, both mostly metal. She set up the rods on either side of the fire and skewered the strips of meat and placed the skewer on the rods. She didn't necessarily need to eat meat cooked, thanks to her mother's orcish blood. But she preferred it that way, thanks to her father's elven blood.

I believe I shall join you.

Zeri grinned amicably. "That's great! It's really not too terribly far. Half a day's walk if you're fast. Maybe a little more if you take your time. Which. I guess is implied if you were to take your time. You, you know what I mean."

And then he offered to speak of his travels. Zeri loved to hear about the travels of others, to forge in her head a vision of what the world looked like based on what they told her. She already had some definite pictures--painted by the brush of vivid imagination and the paint of the tales she had listened to--of Alliria and the Strait and the Taagi Baara interior and the Crobhear Lake valley in The Spine and the Gulf of Liad to the north of Elbion and the expanse of the Aberresai Savannah, to name a few. But she always craved more.

She sat down again, legs crossed, like an attentive student and said eagerly, "Yes! Both, if you don't mind. The Spine is massive, a-and I haven't been there myself. Not quite. Just the foothills. I saw them in the distance though, mountains so high that their peaks are always covered in snow! I know the Allir Reach is to the south beyond the meeting of the Bystra and the Sayve, and...and they say that it's greener there. That the trees are taller. Is that true?"

Zeri watched and listened intently.

HotepseAken

 

[HotepseAken]

HotepseAken found that sharing details of his travels to be a relaxing and enjoyable experience. He spoke of the people he had met, of how the temperature changed over miles that could be difficult to pick out. He spoke of towering trees and desolate dunes, of mountains that pierced the skies and the deepest tunnels beneath the earth.

With a chuckle, he even relented and described things long since past; the gleaming spires of Soltahbad, the humble river tribes along the Cairou river delta, and the greatest Dwarven fortress he had ever seen... things that would never be seen again. Wistfully he recounted the pearl ice flow, when Eretejva's north coast clogged with fine ice orbs for months. Things that were oddities, collected over a very, very long life.

The sun had set properly, with the Anaphite reminding the younger Half Orc that her dinner was likely ready. He refused the offered dinner: he said he had eaten earlier, and did not wish to over-indulge. He pointedly left out what his diet entailed, as such revelations rarely had kindly effects. It wasn't a hidden thing, but his people avoided any direct demonstrations or confessions. Not, at least, to mortals.

Dawn was many hours away, and HotepseAken was inclined to meditate and watch over the camp while his newest companion rested. In the morning he would accompany her to his town, then part ways. Perhaps the two would meet again, sometime in her life. The fates were peculiar, and the age they lived in became more interesting by the dawn.

 

[Zeri Rekani]

The tales were told.

And if it had not been for subtle promptings from Hotepse, Zeri would have neglected to properly rotate the fish meat on the skewer and then as well forgotten to actually eat it once cooked. She hardly noticed the gradual retreat of the sun and the darkening of their surroundings save for that minute orange bubble of soft light around the campfire.

It was just...hard for her to not give him her truly undivided attention. He was well-traveled. Well-traveled. Only Eretejva sounded like a place she didn't want to visit. Not that she didn't think it was beautiful, she was certain that it was; but she vastly preferred warmer climates. Zeri simply would rather seek out shade on a hot day or dip into a river to cool down rather than bundle herself in thick layers of heavy clothing and huddle around a struggling fire to stave off the cold. Summer, unsurprisingly, was her favorite time of year; winter merely a rough time to be endured.

And, after eating and after Hotepse finished his tales, Zeri bid him goodnight. Went to her lean-to. Lay down on her bedroll and rested her head on the pillow and pulled the wool blanket over herself and rolled on her side such that her back was to Hotepse, completely trusting him in the short time she had known him, all that earlier trepidation blissfully vanished without a single trace remaining.

* * * * *​

Zeri awoke when the sun peeked from the vanishing point of the horizon and its light ushered in the dawn and the new day to come. She said good morning to Hotepse, smiled, and then spent a fair amount of time attending to her hair: using a variety of different combs stored in her pack to get it just right again after sleep had tousled it.

She then set about packing up the camp: her bedroll, her lean-to, the line of twine and the rest of her hunted game and fish. She strapped her spear and her bow to her traveling pack last and, with a little grunt, hoisted the pack up and onto her back. It was heavy, carrying all of her things, but not so much as it was before she started doing these expeditions, and she hoped she would become even more accustomed to traveling so weighted, to the point where it was of hardly any consequence.

The last thing she did was kneel down before the remains of the campfire. She reached down and spread her hands in the ashes, flexing her fingers in them, green hands turning gray and black. She wiped her hands on her moccasins, removing some but not all of the ash from her hands. With a look to Hotepse she explained that this was: "A custom of good luck, a hope for safe travels, and an expression of gratitude for the tinder which gave her the warmth and safety of fire--that this pleased the Spirits of the Trees and the Grass."

Zeri stood.

And they were off toward Bhathairk.

* * * * *​

Along the way, as the forest gave way to the open grasslands that precipitated a traveler's arrival to Bhathairk (the city itself, from the appropriate viewing angle, able to be cupped in one's palms, such was the distance yet to the Gates), Zeri asked:

"So what was the name of the village you were going to visit? What happened there? I know you said there's been an outbreak of disease, but...how did that happen? Are the Spirits around their village unwell? That can cause disease to spread."

Then, seeming to realize that what she was saying--what she believed wholeheartedly for the entirety of her life--might sound strange (or even silly) to Hotepse, she felt compelled to add quickly:

"That's what my Ma says." Two little, awkward laughs. "My Pa--he's an elf, not an orc--he doesn't really believe it to be that way. I-I don't know, what do you think? You've been a healer for some time, you must have seen and cured a lot of diseases."

HotepseAken