Private Tales What Does Not Kill Us

[Pern]

Hath's stock was of a much more --well, she wasn't entirely sure how to describe it as she wasn't nearly as knowledgeable about the various orc tribes as she'd like to be-- but his people struck her as one of the more ... savage? Tribes? Having spent enough time among them, she'd seen and noted that even the young ones carried a good deal of what she believed to be ancestral blood with them.

They were predators from the day of birth.

When she faintly mimed Hath's gesture of lifting her top lip, she noted how much lesser her own top fangs were in comparison to his. Only one set, whereas he had two at the top, and then another set on the lower aside from his tusks. Not even to mention the difference in tusk size.

Hath often reminded her of a wild board. She'd been quite self-conscious of how small her own tusks were among his clan, but the clan itself didn't seem to notice. Or maybe simply hadn't cared because she was so strangely different to begin with.

This Varga seemed to sit solidly in between the pair of them, build-wise. Not as broad and brawny as Hath, but not quite as lean as herself. It made her wonder what the others of his clan looked like.

Pern nodded in quiet understanding to Hath and followed after Varga. The crowds were heavy with merry-making, but curiously she saw very few orcs in general.

"Yes," replied Varga back to Hath, "though we stay close to the trade routes. My clan is not one of war and other orc clans who live war take advantage."

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath noted the lack of orcs on the way to Varga's tribe. If Varga's clan did not make war then he reasoned they might have been avoiding the other tribes around the town during festivities. Farreek had complained about raucous orcs at a previous event, so it also stood to reason that the people of Wikkerton might have told the tribes to keep to their own.

At least there were no orcs around to see himself and Pern making faces at one another.

"Charosh used to skirmish with other tribes when food was low. Then the humans expanded into the savanna, turning land to sand because they refuse to see it cannot be farmed."

Avoiding war sounded a bit like cowardice to Hath, but he wasn't going to judge now. Fighting had led to him losing his father. That had seemed like just another part of their harsh lives, but it had led to most of the troubles of his life.

Around a copse of trees Hath saw a few orcs that looked like Varga.

He nudged Pern's shoulder. He nodded towards them.

"Drew short straws. On watch."

 

[Pern]

"Your people are not warriorsh, then?" Pern asked after him, her eyes glancing the orcs Hath nodded toward and she made a quizzical face up at him.

"How do you know what a shtraw ish?" she whispered at him, small amusement in her eyes.

"My clan does not pray to gods of war, no," said Varga as he inclined his head to the scouts, "but that does not mean we do not have warriors." War, battle, and conquest of territory simply wasn't their way of life like it was for so many others.

"What godsh do you pray to?" Pern asked, unsure if that was too forward of her.

"The gods of the vagrant winds, blood, hunt, and earth," Varga replied, "and when we return home on pilgrimage, we pray to the Gods of the sky."

Pern's gaze shifted upward, wondering just what the Gods of the sky entailed. The moons? The stars? The sun? Clouds and rain? When her gaze settled back on Varga, she could see the lights of campfires flickering just in the distance at the edge of fields surrounding Wikkerton. Celebration echoed from their camp as well and a large bonfire of their own sat at the center of it all.

 

[Hath Charosh]

, "and when we return home on pilgrimage, we pray to the Gods of the sky."

"Orcs are of the wind," Hath said. "Because we are scattered everywhere it touches."

"I have heard of orcs living like dwarves. I cannot imagine without sky," Hath said.

Hath was looking around their feet for a dried piece of grass to demonstrate straw. In the savanna there was a lot of dried out straw after the dry season had started. He plucked two blades of health grass instead.

"Your tribe seem in good spirits," Hath observed. He was trying to be polite. Pern didn't need to see that side of him when he became competitive. She had been through difficult weeks. The last time he had fought someone over a potential mate he had won the fight and his axe, but his opponent had recovered from his bruises in the female's tent.

Hath turned to whisper at Pern: "You do not draw straws for a shit job?"

He mimicked the game by showing two fronds from a clenched fist. Hath hadn't quite realised it was a language question.

 

[Pern]

"I have heard this also," Varga returned, brow knitted lightly at the thought as a look of malcontent settled over his face and between his tusks.

Pern looked at Hath and his straws and had to hold back a laugh to keep from interrupting Varga too much. She placed her hands over his fist and straws, leaning toward him with a smirk, "Not thoshe kind of shtrawsh."

Varga's expression did not last long as Hath remarked on his clan. He nodded and it leavened. "Yes, we always enjoy our stop at Wikkerton. It is a safe place to rest, even with other tribes nearby. Tonight we celebrate the birth of a new member."

"Oh!" Pern's brows lifted at that, "A baby? Are you shertain we should share in that?"

"Of course," Varga looked back at her curiously, pausing to look between Pern and Hath and then landing firmly on Pern as it if was obvious, "you are of our sister clan and you are always welcome."

Pern blinked, her feet coming to a full stop as confusion struck, "S-sister clan?"

"Yes," Varga nodded, "come, I will introduce you to my mate and children."

 

[Hath Charosh]

She placed her hands over his fist and straws, leaning toward him with a smirk, "Not thoshe kind of shtrawsh."

Hath made an attempt at drawing the corners of his mouth back into a smile. The expression was awkward, but at least it wasn't unnerving. The expression made him feel a slightly at the base of his belly.

He turned his head at the news, letting the two blades of grass flutter to the ground.

Hath was about to remark on the honor that came with being invited to such an important moment for the tribe, but Varga delivered two very sudden pieces of news.

The first, that he recognised Pern's tribe was stunning. The second, that they were being introduced to his mate and children was far more welcome.

He glanced at Varga and back at Pern.

"How are you certain?" he asked, falling into step. A fee younger orcs moved closely, regarding the newcomers with curiosity.

 

[Pern]

"I would recognize a Vekenthi anywhere," said Varga, "there is no other clan that looks like them."

With more and more eyes upon them, Pern began to note that some of those eyes looked concerned and worried when looking upon Hath.

"Hath stay by Pern," Varga said to him over his shoulder, making a gesture with his hand to walk carefully, "your clan I am not familiar with, but many who look like you have brought loss and trouble for us recently."

That he had not yet ascertained Hath's connection to Pern was a bit troublesome itself, but the two seemed to be on friendly enough terms. If they traveled together, it should be enough to grant Hath welcome as well.

Varga took them through crowds who gave them a wide birth, and stopped near the main bonfire where the Chieftain sat. The Chief was clearly an aged orc - long enough in tooth that were he of any other clan, he'd likely be dead from challengers after his seat of power by now. His hair was white and mane still quite thick, with many braids crowning his skull and adorned by metal beads, bone, and shells. Notably, the necklace of polished abalone around his neck glinted with Kaliti gold pieces.

"Chieftain Mos," Varga brought his hands up and clasped one hand over a fist before his face, then bowed his head.

"Varga," the Chief peered at his hunter and then to the guests, "why do you bring this shadow into our celebrations and darken our joy? You are frightening the young, take him away."

"Because he is with the Sun," Varga said and stepped aside so the Chief could see Pern.

The Chief immediately froze, eyes widening in no small amount of wonder, and lifted his staff to rise to his feet to approach her, "Seze mey," he said, "what is your name child and what are you doing so far from home?"

Pern, already dumbstruck by the thought of belonging to a clan anywhere at all, looked back at the Chief as though he'd just struck her for an unknown offense. "I-" she looked around, swallowed, looked at Hath, then looked to the ground and shook her head, "I think Varga ish mishtaken. I belong to no clan. I grew up in Elbion, raished by a Maeshter of the College."

"Mmmm," The Chief frowned, squinted at her while looking her over head to foot and back, then seemed to second guess himself, or at least give something deep consideration. He turned to one of his advisors and gestured to the orcess with his hand for something, "the Seze."

She lifted her hands to the many layers of beaded necklaces encircling her own, seeking out a specific ornament and pulling it from around her neck to give to him. With care, the Chief turned the beads around his his palm with his claws and flattened a carved shell over it, "Do you recognize this symbol."

It was what appeared to be a sun with a circle and a crescent next to it.

Pern lifted her brows, "That...that'sh my birthmark," and quickly pulled her brown curls over her left shoulder, then turned to show the Chief the mark on the back of her right.

The Chief nodded, smiling, "Not a birthmark, the mark of the Vekenthi, your clan. Miza, show her."

The same orcess from before stood and turned, showing the back of her own shoulder with the same mark.

"Miza is daughter of both clans," said the Chief, "Vekenthi and Skarath. You are of the Sun, child."

 

[Hath Charosh]

Of the sun...

Hath repeated the phrase in his head several times. It didn't unlock any meaning that was hidden away in his memories.

He had offered a deferential sign of respect for the elder. One suitable for the leader of another tribe. He chose not to take offence at the comment that he might frighten the children.

He might have stewed on that for longer and thought about how to explain that he was no danger to the tribe.

Instead, he was rocked by what happened next.

The Chief nodded, smiling, "Not a birthmark, the mark of the Vekenthi, your clan. Miza, show her."

The same orcess from before stood and turned, showing the back of her own shoulder with the same mark.

"Miza is daughter of both clans," said the Chief, "Vekenthi and Skarath. You are of the Sun, child."

"Vekenthi," Hath murmured. He took a good look at both marks. It was a simple symbol, but the placement was far too similar.

"Pern... You might have a tribe."

He watched carefully, staying close by her side. Their trip had told them that a tribe wasn't always a welcoming place. He didn't know how she was react so he left a little space between them.

"But you are still those who raised you," he whispered.

 

[Pern]

"I..." Pern was clearly at a loss. She could feel the swelling of excitement within her chest about a truth of hers she'd long since wished to uncover. Ignatius had been a kind, caring, and wonderful father to her but he could not provide the story of her origins or the knowledge of her people. His arms and love was her home, but she never truly belonged in Elbion.

Despite the efforts of Hath's clan to integrate her, encourage her to stay with them, she hadn't felt as though she belonged there either. She certainly wouldn't have stayed with them, and especially not without Hath's presence which had been made clear to her that he was not welcome.

Yet to think there was some place out there she belonged. A people to which she was related by blood.

The knot in her chest grew tighter and for a moment Pern felt the pressure pushing into her throat, imploring her to release the grief of her losses, but she leaned toward Hath as he whispered his words and swallowed that lump hard.

The Chief seemed to sense the troubles within her, intuitive to the look of growing sobriety about her. His brow wrinkled in understanding and he shifted forward, lifted a hand to the crown of her head, and leaned to press her forehead against his, "You are welcome with us, Seze Sata. Join our celebration. This weight of knowledge can sleep under the stars and wake again with tomorrow's sun. Breathe now."

Pern winced under the squeeze of his hand, not out of fear or pain but out of gratitude. Her eyes misted with tears held back, she nodded and took in a long and slow inhale to steady her nerves.

"Thank you," she said to the Chief.

The Chief gave a rumble of assurance and lifted his head. His free hand dropped to Pern's shoulder as he looked to Hath behind her, eyes taking in the orc who stood like a brutish beast in comparison to his people, then seemed to smile in recognition of something.

"Dark shadows will always chase after the Sun. Your shadow is welcome, too. Be at peace. Eat, dance, join us. You may make your shelter with us for as long as you like." Spoken loud enough for all within the circle to witness, that none may question Hath's presence among them. He stepped back and stamped his staff thrice to a resounding chorus of feet or fists pounding thrice in return.

And that, it seemed, was that. The Chief returned to his seat and invested himself in conversation with his advisors.

Pern, shaking slightly from it all, reached back behind her for Hath's arm and clamped her own hand around his wrist to steady herself. Hath had been with her through thick and thin, feast and famine on this journey. Today had been an emotional feast after a long stretch of famine. She turned slowly to face him, her rock and only source of comfort, and pressed her forehead against his shoulder for a moment of calm.

Varga stood off to the side, watching and waiting for the pair to collect themselves before taking them to his family.

 

[Hath Charosh]

He could see her trying to work through this. All whilst Hath, the chief and half the tribe watched her. He was close to grabbing her hand and leading her on a walk away from the tribe when she leaned in closer and the chief spoke softly.

A good chieftain knew his tribe well and paid attention to them. Not like his stepfather and the bullies he surrounded himself with.

"Dark shadows will always chase after the Sun. Your shadow is welcome, too. Be at peace. Eat, dance, join us. You may make your shelter with us for as long as you like." Spoken loud enough for all within the circle to witness

Hath did not know if he liked that turn of phrase. It made it sound as if he gave pursuit to try and smother Pern. Still, the words were spoken with kindness.

Hath offered a sharp nod in thanks.

She turned slowly to face him, her rock and only source of comfort, and pressed her forehead against his shoulder for a moment of calm.

Hath's large hand came to rest against the back of her head. He wrapped his other around her waist. He breathed slowly, feeling the tension in her, listening to the rhythm of her breathing.

"Take your time," he murmured. "If you want us to find them, we will find them."

There was always a finality when he made such statements. This time he gave a gently squeeze, feeling her pressed to the hair plains of his chest. He gently stroked across auburn curls and waited for her to be ready to face the world again.

 

[Pern]

If you want us to find them...

Absent any self-awareness of the affection presently being given by Hath, Pern felt her mind swimming with the news of her origins. Similar in intensity to the overwhelming notion of being wanted as a mate, learning of her people came second to none. Ignatius had suspected that if there were any of her clan left, they likely had moved on.

Far away.

And he surmised there wouldn't be many left at all.

She found herself wanting to know the story. What had happened to them to send her fate into the hands of an old Maester of Elbion college. She'd been found hidden in the loft of a barn, tucked into a pile of hay as a babe. As an orc, the farmer didn't know what to do, and Ignatius had been in the area to help protect the people of the quarreling tribes. By the time Pern had been brought to his attention, the victim tribe had all but fled, many of which were dead and dying when the city Guard arrived to drive off the attacking clan.

Did she want to find them? She didn't know right now. It was too much.

When Pern finally looked up, Varga was still waiting patiently off to the side and dipped his head to her when she cast a slow look his way. She heaved a sigh.

"Let'sh jusht..." she looked up at Hath, smiling under the weight of everything, "enjoy the evening."

She did know one thing: she wanted to meet Varga's family and maybe even meet the newest babe of the tribe. One of the things she missed the most from Hath's tribe was seeing the families and their children.

"Come," said Varga again. Pern nodded and stepped after him to follow once more through the campsite.

 

[Hath Charosh]

He let it settle in. Not that he imagined the revelation would truly settle in. Pern was getting past the initial shock, but it would take much longer to think this through.

Fortunately they had time; they would not reach that part of the world for some time.

She peeled herself back from him. She was still smiling. He nodded slowly and released her from his grip.

"Let us do that," Hath said. "Remember thinking we would just watch a festival and relax."

He offered Varga a nod and followed after them. They had kept quite a tight camp sight and he could see quite a number of the tribe. Despite the chieftain's announcement, he received some suspicious glances.

" You really have not had good experience with orcs that look like me," he observed.

 

[Pern]

"Sadly not," said Varga, "we did wish to remain peaceful, but the ones we met tried to steal from us in the night."

Pern frowned at such a notion. It had already been worrying enough to travel alone with Hath on the road. Not for any concern of Hath, but for concern of who they might run into when the sun went down. Rest did not always come easy for her, especially not after any altercations. Even in the sleepy halfling village she'd not found much rest between her concern over Hath and the nightmares of the attack they had only just managed to escape with the help of the Dawnbringer.

Varga did not speak any further on the subject, but she wondered if his earlier comment about suffering loses to dark orcs like Hath tied in to that story. Had someone been killed? She hoped not.

They did not walk far before Varga stopped within a smaller circle of tents surrounding a campfire. Meat roasted on a spit over the flames and several faces were found settled around the perimeter.

"This is my family," Varga said proudly as he lead them into the circle and introduced around those present: his mate, his two youngest children of 8 and 10 and his eldest son of 16. Nearby Varga pointed out his younger sister and her mate and children, as well as his aged mother and uncle.

There was some shared concern among them upon seeing Hath, but once Varga introduced he and Pern the looks shifted to mild welcome. It paid to be wary, Hath knew.

"Are you joining us, Sata?" asked Varga's mate, Shari.

"Ahm-..." Pern looked to Hath in uncertainty, lightly clasping her hands at her front over a deep breath, "for the night, at the very leasht, yesh. We came to Wikkerton to find shuppliesh for our journey wesht, back to Elbion."

"We go west as well," said Shari, "you must join us Sata. The rest of the clan will come to accept your mate. It is the way of us."

Pern's brows shot up toward her hairline, "We uhm... not, mm -" but Shari was already happily discussing with her mother-in-law the prospect of Pern's presence within the clan.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Stealing at night, Hath thought to himself, was probably not the worst act committed by a tribe on another tribe out in the wilds.

Most orc tribes kept their distance. They had developed simple runes to mark territory. When food was scarce a tribe would range further. That was when the first skirmishes would start. Desperation could lead to all out war between tribes.

Varga's eldest son stood tall. Hath recognised that gesture too. In his tribe there was a lot of shared raising of children. The elder children of that age started to take on their responsibilities to protect the tribe.

"We go west as well," said Shari, "you must join us Sata. The rest of the clan will come to accept your mate. It is the way of us."

Hath had already started looking towards Pern before the word mate was used.

He did not know how to react. He didn't want to abruptly correct them, not could he let the unnacuracy stand. He might have made light, had it not been something that he expressed that he wanted very much.

Flustered was not an expression that found a good fit on his features.

He glanced around at the other orcs with just a hint of suspicion. They felt more genuine than the group that had accosted them.

"We could travel with them," he said quietly. He trusted himself to navigate the wilds more than any stranger, but there was safety in numbers.

 

[Pern]

She was trying not to let the mate comment get to her but like Hath, Pern didn't want to make a fuss out of it. Deciding to simply remain silent and perhaps have a quiet word with Varga later, she glanced to Hath as he spoke.

Traveling with the clan had its appeal. She wondered if she might find a bit more peace and sleep at night that way. Certainly she already felt safer within their numbers and it might take some weight off of Hath's shoulders as well. Pern offered him a quiet nod in return, "Perhapsh we can ashk Varga to show ush their route tomorrow? If it makesh shense to join them, I think it would be a good idea."

"Come, sit," Shari gestured to the pair of them to have a seat on the open side of the central fire to her right, "you must tell us of your home in Elbion."

Pern smiled and moved to take a seat, watching with curiosity as Shari's youngest daughter leaned to whisper in her mother's pointed ear. Shari chuckled and leaned to Pern, "My daughter wants to know why your hair is not braided."

Indeed, most every orc had braids in their hair around them, even the children.

"Oh... well, I guessh becaushe I have alwaysh kept my hair shorter and tied up. I am a blacksmith and long hair eashily catchesh and burnsh. Thish ish the longesht it hash ever been." Pern had never been a vain creature. Looking pretty or doing her hair had never been a subject of concern. A simple bun to keep it out of the way was the most she'd done with it aside from washing and combing.

The child took a moment to consider all this then leaned in again to its mother for a whisper.

Shari smiled, "Mahti would like to braid your hair. She has been practicing."

Pern felt a ping of endearment in her middle, smile broadening over a nod, "I would be honored."

Mahti jumped up excitedly and scooted around Pern's back where she began gathering her long, brown curls into her hands to comb.

"Hath," Varga was tending to the meat on the spit, "were you approached by other orcs in Wikkerton today?"

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Perhapsh we can ashk Varga to show ush their route tomorrow? If it makesh shense to join them, I think it would be a good idea."

Hath gave a firm nod. He did not know how the tribes would map out their route, but if they used any portal stones or major landmarks for reference they could work it out. He would be comfortable as long as their path did not draw them too close to Vel Anir

"Hath," Varga was tending to the meat on the spit, "were you approached by other orcs in Wikkerton today?"

"Barrath, Kee-at and Frueh from the other tribe," Hath replied. "They asked us to go North with them."

Hath had already eaten several skewers, but his gaze lingered on the fire.

"You are all very... Calm. Several complained about how tribes had acted during festivals. He glanced to the side to see Mahti starting to braid Pern's hair.