Private Tales The Wastes

[Yara]

The wastes of The Blightlands are a terrible place. Barren lands filled with poisons, smog, and tar pits with desiccated vegetation as one's only change of scenery. If the groups of knife-jawed Mora’oiks don’t rip you limb from limb you may have the pleasure of coming face-to-face with a swarm of Rakdis gnats stinging at every pore of your body. Then there’s the roving tribes of Blight Orcs. If you’re lucky they’ll kill you for fun, if you’re not then they tend to view anyone who steps into the wastes as their property.

…and if you avoid all of that you’re still in a miserable badlands with miles and miles of nothingness surrounding you until you reach Molthal, the most miserable city in Arethil.


~ Narzuuk Orgzub, Distinguished Scholar at the Academy of Bhathairk





Somewhere to the east of Molthal lies an outcropping, a giant hole in the earth, with tunnels that dart every which way into deep caverns filled with a strange ore. Somewhere inside of those tunnels is are various antechambers with more tunnels. Inside of those antechambers are additional connecting tunnels patrolled by Blight Orcs who walk back-and-forth between grated pens filled with bunk beds.

For the past two years, four months, and sixty-three days Yara Lyrcrya has lived in one of these bunks.

Every day is a repeat of the day before. Wake up, get yelled at in a language one barely understands, and move down to the mines. Grab a pickaxe, hack at rock and earth, haul ore back up the shaft to a different team. There is no hope, there is no joy, just a brief lunch break and the end of day period back at the bunks.

Behind a cage, being served a rice porridge for dinner, and getting to know the other poor souls that reside with you. Like Glenn, the human in his late thirties who had the shakes from a Lyrum withdrawal for the first week he was there. Or Elyub, the orcish woman who'd claimed to have been at the mine for ten years after her gladiatorial life had come to a screeching halt following an injury to her knee (poor woman still walked with a limp).

They were a sad bunch, sure, but every now and again they'd get a glimmer of hope that maybe there was a chance to escape. Until someone reminded them they were surrounded by never ending wasteland. But still! Maybe there was a chance of some sort. To at least understand what they were mining and who it was for would give them a clue as to how utterly pointless their lives were.

...and perhaps, if they understood the why of everything they were enduring, they could concoct a plan to make life really miserable for someone else.

"It's a waste of time," Yara said as Elyub whispered of breaking free for the third night in a row, "I've never even fought another tiefling, how would I fight a Blight Orc?"

Elyub pulled her gaze up from her porridge with eyes wide, "never fought another of your own kind? Tell me you've at least thrown a punch?"

Yara's silent eating answered Elyub's question better than words ever could.

 

[Drez]

This again.

Why couldn't Elyub get it through her thick skull? How many times had they had this conversation? How many times had the former gladiator brought up the idea that they could 'fight' back? Fight back against who? The Blue Orcs?

Sure they could kill a few of them, but what was the fucking point? Molthal was a wasteland, not a desert, a wasteland. There were no Oasis' one could travel to, no cities that were not under the thrall of Menalus Even if they killed every single Blight Orc in the fucking place it didn't matter.

They were already dead.

The only reason for any of them to still live was spite. "Will you shut up, Elyub."

Drez growled, his voice that same barbaric growl that it always was. The Gnoll practically towered over everyone else behind the bars, even while half hunched over. But his time within the mines had taken their toll. He had become skinny and malnourished, his fur was mangy and patchy, even his teeth felt brittle.

He was a shadow of himself, just as Elyub was, just as they all were.

"Look at the girl." Drez said with a gesture at Yara. "She's a twig."

They all were, but that didn't matter. "Stop giving her false hope. We're dead. Accept it."

Drez had.

He knew better than most in this place just how doomed they were, how impossible the situation was. Even if they somehow could overcome the Guards, there was no chance of escaping the Blight. They were stuck here, in this mine, and they would be until they died.

 

[Yara]

None of what Drez had said bothered Yara. It was all true.

Hope was long dead and buried. There'd been a time, in the first few months, where Yara thought there was hope. That the lack of letters and coin being sent back to her family would compel them to search for her. Or that the members of her team that bailed on the Blightlands job would hire someone to find her.

Any day now they'd burst in, breaking open cages and slaying their captors with wagons to ferry them all home. Until it just became unbearable, until her rational mind came to accept that this was her fate. This was her life.

And her death.

"A twig? I think I'm at least a withering branch," her voice was meek and small but she hoped the levity might avoid an argument. Yara didn't have the patience to listen to bickering tonight.

Elyub let out a laugh before the once mighty orc grasped at her chest. "Don't make me laugh girl, chest is still sore from the dust." A near cave-in where Elyub had been working a few days prior had given her an asthmatic fit.

One last finger ducked into her small bowl and Yara finished her dinner, a hand reached up to massage at her aching shoulder as her stomach grumbled. They purposefully kept them malnourished, she was convinced of it. Made them all more compliant and it made them all weak.

"You can all give up if you want," Elyub said, "but one day... one day you'll see me ram a pickaxe into one of them bastard's skulls."

"Drez," she cut in quickly to hopefully defuse the situation, "did you ever find out what happened to those new arrivals?" His nose picked up scents she couldn't and his shift sometimes took him in more exotic locales of the mine. There'd be rumblings that the new slaves that had arrived were tasked with surface duty and there was so little else in their lives that anything like that was exciting.

Although, surface duty often meant you died a much quicker death than those inside the mines. Days in the blistering sun loading cargo. If the toxic fumes didn't take you the Blight Orcs deciding to use you for crossbow practice often did.

 

[Drez]

"Ha!" Drez barked at Yara's response, despite himself. The brief moment of levity offering respite from the constant misery of their day. His eyes rolling heavily as Elyub continued to insist that they would one day 'break free'.

The notion still utterly ridiculous.

His bowl came up, tongue flickering out to ensure that he ate every drop of his porridge. The hunger gnawed at him more than most, his size rendering an almost constant craving. A few times in his early days here he had eaten some of the fallen, an act that had disgusted many, and one he'd quickly learned from.

Slaves did not make for good food, not like the warriors he'd once fought had. The meager flesh on their bones hardly offered any sustenance, and the risk of disease was far too great.

Drez knew that now, it was a lesson sorely learned in the first weeks. "Few of em got eaten, I reckon."

The Gnoll said, knowing it to be true. Though the rumors had not yet filtered down into the pit, Drez had scented the creature which had caused the injuries he knew those above sustained. Blight Crawlers were massive and dangerous things, the Orcs hardly ever tried to hunt them, and when the slave cadres were left alone...well, they were hardly capable of defending themselves.

"The others? Not so sure." He mused, licking his chops. "Maybe we'll join us in this misery soon enough."

 

[Yara]

Yara had never quite gotten used to seeing the gnoll eat. She knew it was partially because she'd never known a gnoll until her enslavement but seeing his tongue lap up the porridge forced her to think of the dogs they kept in the village she grew up. Forced her to remember the small puppy her team had rescued on a previous job before they found it a proper home in Dornoch.

"Maybe the ones who were eaten were the lucky ones." Not every day was impossible but there were plenty of days when a part of Yara hoped she'd be yoinked up to the surface.

Surely a somewhat quick death was better than years, perhaps decades, of... this.

"C'mon Yar," Elyub cut in, "you don't mean that."

The tiefling turned her gaze to the orcish woman, her face filled with sympathy. What was Yara to do? Destroy the tiniest sliver of hope her bunkmate still had? They had nothing and it wasn't her place to rob the last piece of dignity from someone who managed to keep hope alive.

Instead she just let the comment die and refocused on Drez.

"New arrivals could be fun," her voice finally having a bit of excitement for a change, "I feel like I know as much about you all as you're ever going to share."

 

[Drez]

"Eh, Bligh Crawlers stomach isn't exactly where I'd want to spend my last moments." Drez said with a shrug, remembering some of the prisoners they had fed to the massive beasts when he'd still managed some acclaim in Molthal.

He wasn't entirely sure if being slowly starved to death was better than the eons of pain one would endure within the belly of one of those beasts.

There was a reason they used their own vomit as a method of hunting. The acidic contents of their stomach was not only foul, but a single drop could make a man scream as though every single nerve in his body were on fire.

Leaning back against the cold stone wall, Drez frowned at Yara's words. "Think so?"

He growled quietly.

His time within the mines had stripped him of much he had once been. His personality peeled away by hours of labor and pain. It felt a distant thing, to feel things like humor and joy, when all they were faced with on a daily basis was agony.

Yet he couldn't help the words which slipped from his tongue. "Do you now?"

"Because one time, in my tribe." Drez said, as if almost trying to prove that Yara was wrong. "We had a competition of who could piss the furthest."

The crass words caused more than a few to look at him. "I won in the end, by pissing on the matriarch!"

He said, breaking out into a hyena like cackle.

 

[Yara]

Yara didn't know much about Blight Crawlers but the stories she did know made her think Drez might've been right in his assessment. Even if there were days she honestly did think a swift end would be better.

When the gnoll finished his story and started laughing Yara just stared at the dog. Her face serious, her body language indicating that she found the entire tale to be far too improper even in the awful state they were enduring. Then, she let the facade end and burst into a giggle. "On the matriarch?!"

Her words finally coming out before being interrupted again by further bouts of laughter. She didn't know much about gnoll culture before meeting Drez but she'd learned that the matriarch held a pretty special place within the tribes. It had been interesting getting to know her fellow enslaved as before this whole ordeal she probably would've considered his people to be little more than barbarians who terrorized the steppes.

They probably still were that but their culture gave a bit of insight into the why of it all.

"I stole a tome once," she finally said as the laughter in the cell subsided, "from one of the Dynast's libraries." A blush came over her as she admitted the minor sin, "we just really needed it for a research project!"

Eylub cut in not long after, "you're both awful people." The orc grinned, the irony of a gladiator who straight up murdered her opponents in some of the tales she told not lost on anyone in the room.

 

[Drez]

"I was a beaten for a week for it!" Drez said with a laugh before Yara launched into her own story. His eyes flickering to the girl as he listened to her stealing...a book? Well, he supposed it was something at least.

Naghi had always sought books, though Drez had never seen much use in the flapping pages of parchments.

At least Yara was a little cooler for stealing. "There is nothing awful about taking what you need!"

Drez said, some spark of life flickering back into the snarling response. A low growl running through his throat for a moment more before the dryness caught up to him. He coughed, his haggard muscles spasming as he lurched half over. The orc's scorn falling from his ears as he shook his head and took a deep breath to recover himself.

"Do not make me laugh more!" He offered the Gladiator. "Your hypocrisy is only second to your optimism in my loathing."

The Gnoll said, shockingly verbose for a creature who so derided books.

 

[Yara]

Beaten for a week? The gnoll truly were a vicious people. Though his laugh seemed to indicate that perhaps he was exaggerating but, well, it was never easy to tell when the big dog was serious or just glossing over something.

"Surely your people believe in the rule of law," Yara began before her lips twisted, her mind bending more towards the life she'd known in the past few years, "or at least, you know that without some order you end up," her hands gestured around at the quaint little cell they all shared, at the bed rolls spread out across iron slabs which did little to ease their sore shoulders at night, "like this."

Surely even Drez could see why, without a codified agreement on what is right and what is wrong, most societies would end up with...

"I killed people in honored traditions," Eylub gaffowed out, "and trust me there'd be nothing more honorable than killing as many of them as possible." Orcish eyes darted towards the cell grates, ensuring none of their captors were anywhere near earshot.

"We all did wrong," Yara interrupted as swiftly as possible, "there's no point in thinking of much more misery we can bring into this world." She had no love for the foul creatures that kept them here, that fed them meager scraps, but Yara wasn't interested in seeing any of their cell mates murdered.

The quicker she defused the inevitable argument between Eylub and Drez, the better.

 

[Drez]

"Law?" Drez parroted in confusion, his hand coming up to pick at the end of his snout. Head shaking as he discounted the idea. "No law in the tribe, strongest rules."

The Gnoll said with a shrug, not realizing that the custom itself was a law.

Though not the truth for the whole of their species, Drez's tribe had been Matriarchal in nature. The strongest female of the clan had ruled and lead the way, her mate; the Warmaster, held a powerful position of authority. All of which was to say, Drez understood Yara's point.

Still, the former warmaster rolled his eyes. Picking a booger from his nose and flicking it onto the ground with a grunt. "All I did was my job."

He grumbled.

"I'd bring plenty of misery if it meant getting out of her-" Before he could finish, Elyub's eyes caught his. The hard stare she gave him being capable of cutting steel. For a brief moment, he gauged his options, glancing to Yara before he stopped, growled, and shook his head. "At least if we get new cellmates we might learn more about whats going on in the world."[/dolo4]

The gnoll said, bringing the whole conversation back around and averting the fight.

 

[Yara]

Sometimes it truly felt inevitable that Drez and Eylub would come to blows. Just two people with wildly different, yet firm, convictions. It was like convincing an avalanche to please stop.

Had they not all be enslaved the former researcher would've found the whole thing unbelievably engaging.

"Updates on world events would be a welcome distraction," Yara said as a finger scrapped at the wood of her empty bowl. It was a strange tradition she'd failed to break despite the years in captivity. "Surely you don't want to cause more misery, Drez?"

The same finger was brought up to her lips, sucking at the taste of the rice gruel they'd been served earlier in the evening. Eylub was already pretending to be interested in something else entirely. "After all the misery our captors put us through I," she shook her head, dark hair billowing around her horns, "couldn't really imagine inflicting more harm into the world."

"But," she looked up with something inbetween a gloomy expression and a smile, "maybe the new guests we have won't be new arrivals but transfers from some other part of the mine."

She still wasn't comfortable with the idea that the slave population was growing here in the mines.

 

[Drez]

Drez opened his mouth to speak, immediately intent on countermanding Yara that inflicting misery on others was about one of the only things he enjoyed, but before he said a word his mouth snapped shut.

The argument dying on his tongue as he realized...he didn't actually want to hurt anyone anymore.

At least right now.

For a brief moment the Gnoll stayed utterly silent, as if shocked by this realization. His features going completely bare as he stood in silence. Not answering Yara. Then, with a thump he crashed himself down onto the floor. His tail half-getting squished against the ground as he stared blankly at the wall opposite him.

"Oh. I think you broke him." Elyub said, looking at the now extremely dejected Drez on the ground. Looking at him as though one might a child that they had particularly hated a few moments ago, though still feeling bad about their broken arm.

The Gnoll's ears sagging, and a long, loud sigh escaping him.

 

[Yara]

"Oops," she said quickly in reply to Eylub while staring at the nearly catatonic gnoll.

Yara knew it wasn't a great idea but, well, she couldn't help it. The poor thing looked beyond devastated and she couldn't help the fact that in this twisted place she'd always imagined Drez as being just a very long dog. So, she bent forward and placed a hand behind his ear before giving it a solid scratch.

Almost immediately she realized his fur wasn't as thick as it probably normally was, a sign of just how malnourished he was most likely.

"Ha," Eylub guffawed, "we're makin' Drez into a proper pup now!"

The orc was so amused that Yara half expected her to lean over and rub the gnoll's stomach. Luckily, no such thing happened as Yara pulled her hand away, immediately regretting that she likely had just insulted his warrior-honor even more than her earlier comments.

 

[Drez]

A long. Drawn out sigh escaped Drez as he felt Yara scritch his ear.

Tail thumping pathetically against the ground as it wagged.

How could he not want to kill? That was practically what he'd done for most of his life. It was what he had been brought up doing! The feel of a blade in his hand, the thrill of blood covering his teeth and tongue, the rush of someone losing the last of their vitality...

It was the only thing that had kept him going for so long in this place. The anger, the knowledge that he could kill, that he would kill again. It was always there, had always been there, but-

"...we're makin' Drez into a proper pup now!"​

Oh! There it was.

Drez's tail suddenly began to thump against the ground twice as hard, and a big grin spread across the Gnolls face as he suddenly shifted. His dejected look dragging away from the wall and drawing towards the Orc. He stood, his gin appearing almost a snarl.

"Uhhh...I was...just...joking...Drez..." The Orc said with a step back, as the Gnoll suddenly lunged at Elyub, and threw her into a tight embrace. His tongue lolling across her face in a mark of affection.

"Ahhh, thank you Elyub." He said, his voice returning to a measured depression. "I had nearly forgotten about the need to kill, but you..."

Drez offered another affectionate squeeze before pulling back. "You always know just what to say."

He said, breaking out into a hyena like cackle.

 

[Yara]

Eylub rubbed the slobber off her face in an expression filled half with dejection and half with shock. "Uhh... happy to help?"

There was a moment, however brief, where things suddenly felt tense. But as quickly as it arrived it left with the high pitched laughter of the gnoll they'd all come to know. Soon the laughter overtook all of them, even Eylub who still rubbed at her damp cheek.

It would've been the perfect end to their evening. To a long day filled with work, most nights they simply shared a few words before calling it a night and hitting the hay. But fate had other plans as a bang rung out from the bars of their cage.

One of the Blight Orcs viewed them with displeasure before brandishing his axe as a second orc turned the key to their cell and swung the door open. A hand reached in and grabbed for Calixi, a dwarf who'd been sitting near the edge of their cell. He let loose a scream as the mighty Blight Orc plucked him up and dragged him out while his compatriot shut the door and locked their cell.

"Do you think," Yara waited until the pair had left, being the first in their little communal home to break the silence, "that they're taking him... above ground?"

It was happening more and more often now. Without warning, without explanation.