Private Tales What Does Not Kill Us

[Hath Charosh]

Hath's experience suggested that the guards of a human city would not necessarily take the time to listen to Pern's explanation of the feather. Even getting past Elbion scouts was going to be it's own challenge.

"Then we avoid Oban if we can," he said.

"Take the roads for Wikkerton?" he asked.

They could see about trading for more supplies and ask about safe routes west that kept distance from the coastal castle.

Hath had an ingrained apprehension of elves. The teachings of his tribe were to ward headstrong young orcs against bothering the elves to the south. Nothing in his life had broken that fear. Especially not the elves they had met together.

It was not the same as knowing how a human city might treat two unknown orcs at the gate.

"We should say goodbyes to Gilabree."

If they were ready and had everything they needed then he saw no reason to waste time.

 

[Pern]

Taking the road to Wikkerton sounded as solid a plan as any. Pern nodded in agreement and took the map Hath had received from Gillabree to mark the approximate location of the market on that, as well as add in the general line of the trade route her father had followed through there. When everything was set, she stowed the journal and map in her bag and joined Hath to say their goodbyes.

Gilabree presented them each with gifts. For Hath she provided him a collection of local hawk feathers for his arrow crafting, as well as a small, round and polished stone of a faint green hue. It was semi opaque like a quartz with rutilated striations of gold.

"Keep this with you, yes! It will filter dark energies," but she did not expand on why he would need it.

To Pern she provided fresh healing salve and potions, as well as a braided hairtie with gleaming threads.

"For protection," she smiled and patted her much larger hands.

Aside from fresh apples for the road, the halfling had nothing more to offer but her wish of good luck and safe travels. A feeling of accomplishment only began to sink in as Pern walked at Hath's side along the road leaving the hamlet to head north. It would take them several hours of walking wooded lanes through the countryside before they reached the crossroads of the main trade route. Pern looked upon the various signs for destinations in any given direction and found the one labeled "Oban" toward the top.

The road they needed was the same for the city, but she paused before moving to follow it.

"I wonder if I should keep my home garb on," she pondered aloud, "in cashe we meet with any patrols along the way?"

Appearing more human in nature did help with the whole less threatening vibe.

 

[Hath Charosh]

These lands were supposedly quite safe for the traveller. Hath had often avoided roads because of the patrols, but these were not his savannas. Those patrols and the clearing of trees from near the roads kept unknown wild beasts at bay.

The orc had a half-eaten apple in hand. He had a strong preference for meat over fruits and vegetables, but the apples would not last for long.

"I prefer you in these," he said plainly.

He peered over at Pern, dressed in clothing that was familiar to him. His gaze traced down over skin bared to the sun to the faint scar on her thigh. That had been the arrow he had yanked out of her.

"But if you think it would help..." he trailed off.

Would they spot a collared shirt and long trousers from a distance and assume it was a civilised person walking their road?

 

[Pern]

"Mm," Pern pondered a moment, not catching Hath's wandering eyes or his off-handed compliment as she continued to peer up at the many signs on the road post, "theesh are more comfortable for travel."

Her town garb consisted of many more layers and wasn't exactly the best for traveling. Or, at least, she felt that way now having become accustomed to the freedom of movement and the coolness the clan garb afforded her in the warmer weather. So it was decided to stay her current outfit as she moved off from the signpost and onto their path.

With little to do on the road and a long many days ahead, Pern pondered to herself how she might best fill the time.

"Hath," she spoke up again, her brow furrowing just slightly as she decided to switch to orcish, <<I want speak better your way.>>

 

[Hath Charosh]

<That is good,> he agreed.

When they had left his tribe - under the very worst of circumstances - they had continued to converse in orcish. Meeting outsiders had brought an end to that. His own grasp of the common tongue had improved over the last year. If he had to live beyond his tribe, lowering language barriers would be helpful.

He glanced up at the scrawl on the sign. He might have asked her to teach him some of those symbols. In truth, even among humankind it was not common knowledge. He did not deal with the class of man that enjoyed the written word, nor the merchants who kept books.

<We will talk as we go then,> he said.

That would be a difference. Hath was used to scouting alone, not attempting conversation on the move.

<Keep your other clothes for when we reach a town or it gets cold,> he said, wondering how much of that she would follow.

 

[Pern]

She understood keep your, for when we, town, cold and thought she could decipher what he meant. Pern repeated the words under her breath.

<<Clothes,>> Pern repeated, by context alone she could only guess he was referring to her garb. She picked at the front length of her ... well, she didn't know the proper word for it. It wasn't quite a skirt and it was substantially more than a loin cloth though it didn't cover a whole heck of a lot. She still at times was rather self-aware of that last fact. Her other hand patted over her chest wrap, <<Clothes.>>

Hath nodded with a short grunt she knew to mean yes.

Clothes. Clothes. Clothes.

<<How do you say that?>> Pern pointed to his boots.

She always found it odd that he wore them while she went barefoot. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath raised one one eyebrow when she tugged at her breechcloth. He soon realised that they were going to be playing a game of pointing at things and naming things.

His common wasn't going to stretch far enough to translate everything directly.

"Bolgi," he said, pointing at his boots. "Gabhail, ciobh."

His finger went from breechcloth to her chest wrap in turn.

<Clothes> he summarised. (Edai).

<You will wear boots again if you get dried grass stalks between your toes more than a few times,> he said.

He scooped up a stem of grass.

"Dried grass," he said. He demonstrated by poking the webbing between his fingers.

 

[Pern]

Pern dutifully repeated each word in turn, knowing now that despite her honest efforts in the moment it was likely she would not remember them all today. But a week from now? A month? Certainly they would all begin to stick just as they had those few short weeks living with his tribe.

She blinked at the dried grass. It was thicker than the grasses in the fields on the southern side of the Cairou, but Pern had been barefoot all her life and had rarely come across terrain she couldn't manage. Still, she hadn't gone any farther than the realm of Elbion until this journey, so certainly there were landscapes beyond that would pose a challenge.

<<Then...>> Pern began in thought of how to answer, <<I will find ...boots in Wikkerton.>>

It would be several hours more of walking and conversing along the road before they met with any fellow travelers. Though they might've taken a route around this group they happened upon, it was not until they cleared the precipice of a blind hill that the men even came into view. There seemed to be a dozen in all; lightly armored men, a few on horses, staged off the side of the road in plain view. Their garb was dark, dirty from travel, and well worn. Each man was armed, either with visible swords or bows and quite likely with non-visible weapons as well.

Pern gave pause at the sight of them, but they'd already been spotted by half the men before she or Hath could decide to back-track. They might be a guard retinue from a local city, but she wasn't familiar enough with the area and the maps they carried were rather incomplete of present-day settlements.

Immediately the two men closest to them at the bottom of the hill were already drawing sword or bow.

"Well well, don't see many orcs along this route," said another who, if Pern could guess by the quality of his own wardrobe, was in charge, "what brings two lone orcs all the way out here, hmm? Lost?"

"Nay," replied Pern, "we make for Wikkerton and mean no harm."

That seemed to take them by surprise, that she spoke common and so well, too, "The beast market, of course."

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath did not reply to the observation. He stood one step back from Pern, on her right hand side. He had both hands at his sides, but one kept a loose grip on the stave of his bow and the other let Biter hang to the ground.

He didn't look as if he was about the attack, but he looked as if he was ready to fight.

His gaze passed over the group. Their weapons and armour were not uniform to be a standing army, but even the big human cities would raise haphazard forces to march.

Deserters would be a problem. Ill -disciplined raiders and troublemakers. It was the horses that concerned him the most. If events took a downward turn he could deal with the closest archers and run for cover, but the distance was great enough that they would be run down.

As much as every orc knew to avoid the most fearsome elven swordsmen, they knew that an armoured line of human cavalry was not to be met on an open field.

He gauged the distance to the three mounted men and imagined throwing a hatchet at the closest.

"We pass?" Hath asked, pointing further down the road with the tip of his bow.

He realised they were being carefully appraised.

They were either being weighed up for their danger or the value of their belongings.

"Travelling alone?" the man asked, keeping his gaze on Pern. He canted his head to one side, clearly curious about the situation.

 

[Pern]

"Our clan ish expecting ush," Pern lied, her shoulders having gone rigid from the act of doing so, "they await our arrival jusht a short journey ahead."

That seemed to give the man a sense of pause. Two orcs were easy pickings, but most smart humans would avoid having an entire clan of orcs on their heels at all costs. That never ended well for a band their size.

"Have you passed a guarded carriage on the road?" he replied.

Pern blinked in uncertainty, finding the sudden change of subject rather jarring, "We have not."

"We are also waiting for some ... comrades," said the man, "and they're late. We're gettin' worried that maybe they been jumped ... perhaps by an orc clan?"

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Our clan ish expecting ush," Pern lied

Hath hadn't expected the lie. If they hadn't been watching his bow, they would have seen the surprise in his eyes.

He understood the simple ruse after a few moments. Hath had been focused on planning out how the confrontation might go.

"and they're late. We're gettin' worried that maybe they been jumped ... perhaps by an orc clan?"

"She does not lie," Hath said firmly.

"Maybe your friend she let you do the talking and continue to stand around trying to look threatening?" Pern was asked.

 

[Pern]

She shifted uncomfortably by Hath's side, trying her best to look as composed and calm as possible. The truth of the matter was she found herself more anxious now than she had when first meeting his clan. And there wasn't even a language barrier!

"We want no trouble," she reiterated to the man, "and our clan doesh not go out of itsh way to shtart trouble."

"Likely story," said the Captain who seemed past his amusement of their presence, "I ain't never met an orc that didn't and I don't intend to let you two trouble the good people on this route neither. Hand over your valubles and your weapons."

 

[Hath Charosh]

"No," Hath said plainly. He didn't move from where he stood.

"No? Well I don't think that's..."

"<<Run for the trees. Side to side as you get close. Arrows.>> Hath grunted in his native tongue to Pern, even as the man continued explaining his threats.

"...and then when we're done with her, we'll turn to you and."

His threats came to a very sudden end. Rather than draw the axe up into both hands as they might have expected, Hath swung it up from the floor in one motion.

It didn't need to be a killing blow, but the head of the axe broke his jaw with a deeply satisfying sound.

Hath yanked a hatchet from his belt and threw it. It stuck fast in the flank of one of the horses. The creature cried out and reared up and Hath could only hope it would distract the trio of riders and give them enough time to make the treeline.

 

[Pern]

He wanted her to run? To split up?

A tactic he'd employed on their initial journey out into the wilds, and Pern liked it no more now than she did then. Yet if there was one thing she'd learned over the last several months of her life traveling abroad with him, it was that Hath did not like to repeat himself and, so far, he'd always managed to catch up to her.

Except for that one time she had to go back for him. Oh and that other tim-

There was yelling and a horrible squealing from a horse. Right. RUN. Pern turned and did as instructed, making way as quickly and nimbly as she could toward the trees.

The injured horse bolted, taking off with its rider dragging behind from his boot stuck in the stirrup. The other three riders were swiftly making their way in a charge at Hath, swords gleaming in the sun as the other men advanced on foot. Pern chanced a look back over her shoulder, stumbled, and narrowly missed an arrow to the neck by a hairsbreadth. She felt its slice across her skin as she regained her footing and peeled off to the side as three more arrows came sailing down through the air.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Loosing an arrow at a single running target at twenty paces was difficult. At fifty it was almost impossible. A few more seconds of borrowed time and Pern would make the treeline.

Hath knew it would count for very little if he was dead and they could chase her down at their leisure.

Such a stupid situation. Hath had known so many orcs who had died to a lone crocodile in an instant. He knew that death was at every corner, but after all they had been through he refused to let this be the reason they failed.

He ran forwards, rather than backwards. The second of the men who had approached them fumbled an arrow. Hath cried out, his voice a bellow of defiance.

The man stumbled back, falling towards the ground.

Hath's axe fell faster.

The solid crack of a split skull rang out.

Breathing hard and fast, Hath took the man's strung bow. It saved him stringing his own. He nocked and loosed. The men wore armour, but they did not have the finances for barding.

They were all muscle, but the chest was a target on the straight galloping horse. The arrow struck fast and the leading horse went down. The second tumbles over. The third came around in an arc.

Hath dived to the floor. Thundering hooves past him by. A sword hissed through the air. Arrows fell into the grass around him.

He got back to his feet, grabbed a sword from the ground and flung it at the rider. There was a loud clang of metal on metal as it struck chainmail, followed by swearing.

With stolen bow in one hand, his axe and three stolen arrows in the other, Hath ran.

 

[Pern]

Despite reaching the treeline and the purported safety it offered, Pern felt no safer there then she had out in the open. Especially not upon taking a moment to stop and catch her breath and check on Hath's own status. He was running as fast as he could - and Pern had seen him run plenty enough to know he was making the concerted effort to get out of dodge - but he was also under pursuit by several footmen and one last rider.

There was simply no way they could continue to outrun them all and much like their prior elven captors, Pern wasn't certain there was any way out of this that did not involve further violence. She couldn't call upon the Dawnbringer again ... no, that would only stir offense in the great gryphon, and she hadn't any real training when it came to combat.

Hell, she did not really even have a weapon beyond her tools and the dagger gifted to her. Pern looked down to the dagger strapped to her thigh warily. Hath and their pursuers were closing in quickly and she watched as a fresh rain of arrows pelted at Hath's back as he ran. Without another thought she shrugged her pack from her shoulders and unclipped one of the side pockets. Her hand plunged into the bag, searching for one of her smithing tools, and withdrew the one thing she hadn't counted on: the demon's hammer.

Gilabree had warned not to use it. That it aught to be securely locked up so that the entity within would not have the opportunity to trifle with mortals again. Pern had vowed to turn the hammer over to the college once they got back to Elbion ... but dire times called for dire measures? Her hands quickly untied the cords that kept the cloth wrapped about it and pulled away the covering.

This hammer had been forged by her own hands and cast with the dwarven symbols for endurance and strength. She'd no idea if those enchantments would even take or hold, or if she had simply made a pretty hammer, but the fact remained that it now held a demon within it. Hath's demon. A demon she felt a confidence over for her own involvement in casting it into its new prison. So she took that cloth covering and pushed it back into the bag, then hid it within the thick of a nearby bush before turning her gaze back to the oncoming men.

In her right hand she gave the hammer a short flip within her grasp, in her left she drew the skinning dagger, then she pressed herself against the backside of a tree and waited for the opportunity to catch these men by surprise.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Pern had made the treeline. That afforded her some cover, but it wouldn't keep her safe forever. The footmen had rushed on ahead, even as the rider came about to charge Hath once again.

He would be put to the sword swiftly. From the way the first of the brigands had spoken to them, Hath had a sense that Pern might not have been. They had wanted to toy with their prey.

Hath kept light on his feet as the rider closed on him. The last thing he wanted was to be trampled under hooves.

He darted on the sword side of the rider and then back the other way. The rider was too slow to lift his sword with his right and swipe down on his left, barely missing Hath.

Two of the bandits who were lightest on their feet made the treeline.

With his head down, Hath entered into a footrace with several more of them. If he was lucky he would make the trees before the rider came back around, allowing him to use the broad trunks to continue evading him.

 

[Pern]

Pern wasn't sure what it was that was suddenly filling her with a sense of confidence and optimism in this particular encounter. All she knew is that she was big and strong, and these men were only humans.

Now wait just a moment...

But she didn't get a moment to wait as the first of the men made the treeline just off to her left. Pern hugged against the back of the tree and waited for him to rush past, his head on a swivel as he looked around for her before -

WOOSH WOOSH WOOSH THUCK

She'd thrown the hammer and it landed deep and square in the back of his head. The man gave a startled "Huh!" as he fell forward from the momentum. He was dead on landing. Pern shifted from her cover to his downed body, a warring sense of dread and victory vying within her chest at what she'd done. It distracted her so much that she didn't even see the second man coming at her, or hear his yell when he realized she'd gotten his fellow.

 

[Hath Charosh]

If he was lucky

Hath was only afforded a little luck. He heard the horse bearing down on him. He chose to throw himself to the floor and risk being trampled to death over the certainly of the saber.

His timing was off. The air hissed in protest at the sharp, curved sword cutting through it. It caught Hath across how shoulder blade, drawing a thin line of bright blood.

He was fortunate not to go under the hooves.

Roaring a challenge, he was quickly back to his feet. He felt a familiar feeling growing below his chest. It was the same as being touched by the demonic presence, but this time there was no voice.

A hot flare was like candle wax in his wound. The blood in his veins darkened visible around it. A spider's web of black ink on his skin.

Hath swung his axe to his right as a footman closed on him. It splintered shield and forearm. Hath bellowed and swung again with more might than he possessed. Without a thought he turned again and launched it with a two-handed overhead throw.

It span through the air and struck the returning rider square in the chest. It carried the bandit through the air and off the back of the horse.

Hath stalked forwards to retrieve his axe. The nearest bandits made a choice. They waited to regroup before closing on the orc.

His focus widened. A thump of a pulse and some of the dark power dissipated. His arms felt heavy. That hadn't been the demon's anger, it had been his. The power had taken from him and turned it into something else.

"Pern!" he called out, charging into the woods. He saw her and one man closing quickly.

Hath slowed to nock an arrow.

 

[Pern]

She was caught in the proverbial headlights, staring at the now dead figure of the man on the ground before her and her hammer that stuck firmly into his skull. Blood seeped up around the hammerhead, slicking his hair and turning his scalp dark. Pern felt her entire body go cold despite the warmth of the day.

The approach of the second man went completely unnoticed, and it wasn't until an arrow struck him through the chest, spattering Pern with blood, that she seemed to wake up. Startled, Pern blinked upwards at Hath's form approaching through the trees when she realized where she was and what was happening. Her fist clenched at the growing, painful knot in her chest as she bent down and soundly yanked her hammer free, then stumbled away from the scene back toward Hath and where she'd stowed her bag.

If an orc could be pale from terror, she was white as a sheet.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Like the seed head of a dandelion in a sudden breeze, Hath's directionless anger was swept away by the sight of her like this.

Bow stave and axe clasped in his right fist, he intercepted her before she reached her bag.

"I am sorry."

As simple and plain a messag as Hath himself was. He didn't doubt her strength, but she hadn't been ready to kill a person. She had not grown up in the savanna and survived by killing first. Even for his tribe, killing another orc was not always taken lightly.

They were violent and tested themselves against one another. But a border dispute with another tribe was often solved in small skirmishes, not the all out attritional war of humans.

He stepped closed and wrapped his left hand around her entire form. One sharp squeeze and he released her.

He heard several more bandits creeping into the undergrowth.

"Stay close," he hissed.

The bandit group had suffered for nothing so far. He hoped they would give up the chase rather than follow them deeper into the woods.

"We do not run," he added. They could be threats in the woods far worse than a common pack of human ruffians. He would nock another arrow and begin a light jog.

 

[Pern]

There was comfort in the deep rumble of his voice and the strength of his arm around her, but Pern couldn't shake the shocking chill from her blood, the vice grip of horror from her chest, or the feeling of nails in her gut. She said nothing in response, being only barely able to keep breathing with her heart hammering away behind her breast so violently it hurt.

A short and quick nod to his words. She intended to stay close, but even if running was the better option in her naïve mind she wasn't about to do so on her own. Quick and jerky movements brought her to where she'd stowed her bag, yanking it out to pull it back over her shoulders and take up her hammer and dagger once more. She stiffly moved after Hath's steps like a cowed dog.

As they moved through the forest parallel to the treeline, Pern chanced several glances over her shoulder. There were a handful of men left, five at most, and she saw two of them fall back to collect their fallen comrades. The other three followed several paces away, though it was difficult to tell just how stubborn they were really feeling.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath saw the pain behind her expression. He couldn't let that slow his own movements. He didn't understand why he felt so tired and with the humans closing in he had to strip himself back to pure survival instinct.

It was time to act quickly or die.

He cared for Pern now. He would care for her later. But that would never happen if they died here. Death was everywhere, but he would be damned if he died here.

Two closed on their left and Hath made a show of accelerating a few feet and drawing his bow. In response one to the right rushed in. Hath turned and loosed an arrow. It missed but the man looked over his shoulder where it had passed him and backed off.

Hath growled and snarled. He tried not to let them see that he only had two stolen arrows left. They were too short for him. He couldn't fight five men up close.

"Come, come," he urged Pern. Through the trees he could see backs turned on him. They had stopped their pursuit. Another few yards through the thicket and and turned to face her.

The bow went over his shoulder, axe to the ground. Hath placed both hands on her shoulders, holding her in place and checking for any wounds.

"You are hurt?"

 

[Pern]

"I..." Pern wasn't so much trembling as she was rigid as granite beneath his large palms. Every muscle and tendon held tight by the adrenalin, Pern could not feel the sting of the slash on her neck from the arrow that had grazed past her.

"I don't think sho," she quickly shook her head, a deep frown and pinned golden eyes detached while her mind tried to process what she'd done, "...I feel ill."

 

[Hath Charosh]

"You are hurt," he said.

His large hands approached the wound from both sides. Down her neck and up across her shoulder.

"It is not bad," he told her.

Hath placed one hand on either side of her face. He hinged at the waist to lean closer to her eye level.

"You feel ill, you killed a man. It will not feel good."

His thumbs traced down the outside of her ears in a more affection touch. His voice became softer.

"We will talk of that Pern, but we cover the wound. We cannot leave a trail. You understand?"

He held her gaze until he was certain she was still with him. This was his fault.