Private Tales What Does Not Kill Us

[Hath Charosh]

She was quiet, focused and determined. Qualities he valued in an orc. The same as his uncle, he respected hunters who could do a job, not warriors who grew fat from their labours to spend their time braying and scuffling.

It did not matter what her heritage and upbringing was, he realised. A young orc with no experience could be taught how to survive the wilds on their first endeavour, as long as they listened to an experienced member of the tribe. It was the same with Pern.

The voice was oddly silent. No calls to leave her behind.

"Good," he whispered close to her ear. It came with an appreciative nod. He stalked away, rounding the long grass. He laid out several arrows on the ground, nocked one on his bow and raised a fist for Pern to make some noise.

 

[Pern]

The flush of breath at her ear and Hath's closeness cause the orcess to jump slightly. She'd been watching the natjats and found herself caught off guard by his proximity. Pern lightly pawed a hand over her ear, unsure if the warmth there was from him or perhaps herself. She watched him move off, studying the way his larger bulk seemed to slink like an overgrown cat through the taller brush. Such a curious thing to watch.

Once settled, she noted the signal and took a shallow breath. He'd recommended growling loudly to put the small herd on alert, but she wasn't confident in making a sound she'd rarely, if ever, practiced.

Instead Pern turned her gaze back to the natjat's and raised both hands to her lips, fingers curled and pinkies tucked in just inside of her tusks. The orcess inhaled deeply and released the breath in a trilling, high-pitched whistle.

Which did the job of a growl just as well. The herd balked and bounced into alert.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath winced as the shrill whistle reached his ears. Demons balls she managed to make that loud. It cut through his focus like a sharp knife. The momentary lapse and his first arrow vanished into the thick grasses from which he would never retrieve it.

The bouncy little natjacs saw him as they emerged, changing direction quickly. Hath had started reached for another arrow when he realised it was too late.

In their panic the herd had turned sharply left, but the natjacs on the right of the group turned almost right into him. When they ran they propelled themselves mostly on their powerful hind legs. It made them hard to catch, but awkward when changing direction. It was how the lions hunted them in packs.

One of them cried out as it jumped a lost straight into his arms, colliding with his chest. They both tumbled over, Hath grabbing for anything he could hold. His right hand grabbed a foot, yanking to drop the natjac to the ground.

It kicked him hard with its free hind leg, sending a jolt of pain through his shoulder. He rapidly dragged himself over the top of the natjac, pinning the startled creature down. It writhed beneath his chest, crying out again. Hath found his knife quickly, and cut its throat. By the time it had stopped moving he covered in its blood.

"Fucking mess," he grunted as he stood up, turning to see if his bow had been broken in the chaos. Fortunately it was still in tact.

 

[Pern]

Pern watched with an avid brightness of expression as her whistle did exactly as required and sent the herd into a frenzy of panic. What she hadn't accounted for was Hath's arrow missing (her eyes bugged), the herd turning splitting off and heading straight towards him (her jaw dropped), one of them smashing right into him (she cringed in shock), or him having to wrastle it to the ground and slit its throat.

By the time it was all over an anxious grimace had worked its way onto her face and the orc had slowly but surely lowered herself into the grasses out of a mild sense of anxious uncertainty.

Uhhh ... whoops?

 

[Hath Charosh]

She had one job didn't she. It will only get worse.

Hath frowned. There was a dichotomy to his thoughts that he could not understand. On one hand he was embarrassed to be surprised by a shrill whistle leading to a missed shot. He wasn't going to wade through the long grasses and find a snake instead of the arrow. Yet he also felt this hot swell of frustration up from the base of his gut and the voice that laid the blame squarely with Pern.

It made him indecesive. Out here, that was death.

"You skin that?" he asked her. "I will fetch something to carry with."

A few miles inland there was a good spot to make camp beside a river. Fresh water and wood for a fire. The meat they didn't eat could be smoked to preserve it for the journey and the river meant he could wash off the gore before they continued.

He paused to cast his gaze across Pern. Perhaps because his thoughts hung in the balance. It was hard to remember that for her, just coming here took all of her courage. This was another world, one they had barely scratched the surface of.

 

[Pern]

It was hard to say who was more disappointed in the attempt: Hath or Pern. Hath may have been struggling with the war of mixed emotions, but Pern was pretty squarely set on the fact that she'd fucked things up here. Sure, he'd made the kill but at what cost? An arrow ... his pride, perhaps. The latter seemed to be a bit higher value for the son of a Chieftain.

Remaining low in the grass and peering out at him just over the tufts of green and gold, Pern frowned deeply to herself and nodded to his question. Took her a moment to realize he probably couldn't see that.

"Sh...shure. Of courshe." She knew how to skin a deer, quickly, cleanly, and well. This couldn't be much different - the creature had the same shape, similar coat from what she could tell. She'd do this job and she'd hopefully redeem herself. Maybe just a little. Maybe.

But she hadn't her skinning knife on her, just her other dagger not meant for skilled jobs such as this. It could work in a pinch, but it wouldn't do a great job. The skinning blade was back with her things at the copse of trees and she wasn't sure if she should say something to that effect or not. Did ... did they skin it here? That didn't make sense, the blood still had to drain. Perhaps after Hath managed something to carry it on, after they gathered their things and set up camp.

That made more sense. To her ... and she wasn't sure that her city sense was really what she needed out here.

Was this entire journey going to be so complicated?

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath was turning slowly. The world had to settle after such a sudden commotion. The other natjaks watched from afar, keeping a safe distance. A flock of birds returned to settle on a tree, coming down like a cascading ribbon to vanish into the foliage.

He caught no sight of other predators or scavengers. The moment settled. The world turned as it had been before. This was the way of the wilds.

He caught the consternation etched into Pern's face. Taking up his axe, he was ready to set off the copse with their equipment to fetch a branch to tie the kill to.

"What are you thinking?" he asked bluntly. There was no point in her trying to work something out in silence.

 

[Pern]

"I uh..." she blinked, sheepishly pushing a hand through her hair and curls from her face, "jusht ... thinking of where I put my shkinning blade ..."

Rising to her feet again, Pern gave their surroundings a cursory glance. The wild had indeed settled quickly, as if the sudden disruption had never happened. Curious, she thought, to be immersed in a return to equilibrium. In Elbion attacks like this lead to all sorts of frenzy that could last for hours, if not days following, depending on the context.

"It'sh in my bag. I can shtay here while you get what you need?"

And ward off competition predators with her ... uh, whistle.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Nothing but the wind made noise for a few seconds. Even the natjak's had stopped tooting to one another in the distance.

"No," he said plainly. He was already covered in blood so he grabbed the kill by its ankles and tossed the entire thing over his shoulders. It weighed a good fifty kilos, but he hefted it over his shoulder as if it weighed half that. With its throat cut to make the kill it was already draining fast. Messy business.

"Get our things, we carry it down by the river and make a fire. Skin and cook it there."

There was a good chance that the kill would attract other predators and this wasn't the time to split up. This far north there were not so many creatures to bother a fully grown orc. The further south they went the more dangerous the inhabitants, but the more scarcely populated the plains.

Despite the response he gave Pern a firm nod. They had food now for the cost of an arrow that would have probably be lost on extraction from the creature had it struck home.

And Hath was hungry.

 

[Pern]

That all sounded like a solid plan and put her consternation at ease. Pern nodded and made her way back to the copse of trees, pulling on her bag and collecting the rest of their belongings. She rejoined Hath shortly after and followed as he lead the way. The trek to the river was uneventful, much to her relief, but longer than expected. By the time they reached the banks and Hath had found a suitable place to make camp she was ready for some downtime.

Skinning a natjat seemed like just the thing.

"I shkin for hide and partsh for crafting back in Elbion. We give the meat to the butcher. Anything I should do differently?" she said while helping him set up and procuring her skinning blade.

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Gut it, leave the good bits on the bone," he told her. "Gonna cook it slow," he explained.

He would cut a few strips to be flash fried to eat tonight the rest could go over the fire once it had settled overnight.

Hath took to digging a pit with the blade of his axe before going a shirt distance to fetch wood. He didn't want to leave Pern beyond his line of sight.

It had a simple plan. A firepit through the evening with some stones mixed in to soak up the heat. The rest of the natjak would last a few days if cooked slowly and smoked until it was fairly dry.

It wasn't long before the flames picked at the kindling he had brought back.

 

[Pern]

Another nod and she got to work. Compared to Scy's skills of skinning and perhaps even Hath's, Pern was a bit slower to get the job done but very precise. Clean and few cuts were the name of the game in getting as much usable hide from a kill as possible, and by the time she was finished she could have made a pelt fit for and Orc Chieftain. The horns weren't particularly large but she suspected, given some time and opportunity, she could fashion something from them.

She handed off the skinned carcass to Hath to work his campfire magic and set to work burying what byproducts they wouldn't need. When there was little left to do but have a seat by the fire, Pern turned her attention back to Hath's axe.

"I never did get to look more closhely at that," she gestured, "may I?"

 

[Hath Charosh]

There was a rhythm to the world. One he thought every orc felt through his bones. The rushing water, the wind in the grass, crackle of flames. Even the slow work of skinning a well earned kill. Hath always felt it disrupted by the bustle of a town.

Even now, when he was covered in dried gore of both orc and natjak, with his eyes stinging from the smoke, he felt far more at ease with himself. The wound at his shoulder ached less, the voice found less purchase on his psyche.

Hath lifted the axe up and held it out for her, handle first.

"Biter, you told me that. It eats magic," he said. Since meeting Pern the first time it had saved his life by cracking a mage's magical barrier. In truth, its magically keen, dwarven edge was of more use to him from day to day. He watched her intently as she studied it.

 

[Pern]

"Doesh it?" she asked, carefully taking the weapon and turning it over in her hands to inspect. Pern smiled, giving the other orc a glance while she took in the mastercraft details, "You learned of itsh powersh then? How?"

She was plenty content to sit by the fire, leaning to reach into her back and pull out a leather-bound notebook with attached charcoal nib. She wanted to copy the symbols and etchings from it. Pern wasn't much of an artist when it came to drawing natural things like people or creatures, but she had a good hand at drawing weapons to plan out projects and take detailed notes.

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Someone trying to kill me with magic at the time," he replied. He glanced down at her notebook. Even if he could have read what he saw across the page likely would have looked like scribbles this way up and scattered across the pages. The soft scratching at the paper was just another rhythm. Quite a soothing one.

He cast his eyes towards the sky. The slowly dipping sun finally painting it in a myriad of colours reserved for dawn and dusk.

"The...runes glowed bright when it hit...something of magic. It..." he mimicked holding the weapon, but could not find the words to describe it in the human tongue.

 

[Pern]

She spared him her attention as he spoke, looking up from her etchings with rapt curiosity. "Eatsh magic..." the orcess finished for him, "I have sheen only one other weapon like thish in my time. It wash part of my father'sh collecshun for many years, a dagger ushed to dishpell magic. He gave it to the college shome time ago. Called it the Merrdun Dagger."

After she was certain she'd managed to trace in what markings were visible Pern set her book aside and returned to admiring the weapon, "The anshent dwarvesh were incredibly shkilled. It ish shaid that shome of their mosht powerful enchantment magicsh were lost to time. ...doesh anyone in your clan know enchantment?"

 

[Hath Charosh]

"The tribe has some magic. Nothing as...long lasting as this."

Hath had taken to drawing small circles in the air with one finger in frustration when he had to pause to find the right words. This was now the single longest stretch of time when he had used the human tongue on an hourly basis.

"We cannot make a weapon so fine. Even without magic," he added. His arrow heads were basic iron. There was a vein of iron which the tribes of the region shared and kept well hidden from the other races in the area. They made a poor quality steel from it, not having the equipment to make molten iron like the dwarves could. When the tribe was on the move through the savanna they worked with what they needed.

"I am sure tribe would be glad to know what better could be done."

Hath stepped up to the fire, returning with a sheaf of bark with two strips of barely cooked meat from the flank. Charred slightly on the outside, dripping red in the middle. He offered one to Pern.

 

[Pern]

Not magic like the dwarves but magic still. Perhaps there was something to be learned from them if only she could figure out how to communicate effectively. Pern held a tempered smile on her face while she held the weapon in her palms, clawed digits gingerly tracing the markings.

"I have shmithed on the move before," she began, head tilted as she considered what she knew, "I know how to craft a temporary forge hearth ... how to heat it well enough to make good shteel. I would be happy to-," golden eyes blinked at bark presented to her, eyeing the dripping meat with a mixture of trepidation and hunger, "-teach them if we shtay long enough. Ahm ... thank you."

She set the axe on the ground between them and took up one of the pieces of meat. While she appreciated a good steak cooked rare, this was even a bit much for her. Had to worry what it might do to her stomach.

"I, uh, never have eaten meat thish raw. You shure it won't make me shick?"

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath looked down at the meat, then back up at Pern. He wore a deep frown. She was an orc. That meant she had the stomach of an orc and not a fragile human. He was tempted to simply let her eat it.

However, if she was not accustomed to eating her meat in this way he did not want to find out that it did not agree with her. They had a lot of ground to cover and stopped by fresh water for a few days until she recovered was a delay they could to without.

Hath held out the sheaf of bark for it back. He used the tip of his knife to pierce it, holding it back over the flames.

"You eat much...bread and potatoes in the city?" he asked. He found that orcs in the wild did not typically agree with too much in the way of grains in their diet. Now he was curious as to whether that simply a matter of upbringing a taste.

A more charred piece of meat was offered back to Pern.

 

[Pern]

Oh, that frown.

Pern frowned back, gaze shifting to the bark slab, and silently placed the meat back on it. Feeling more than strongly awkward and back to square one, she gently cleared her throat and turned her attention to anything other than her slab of meat skewered on his dagger over the fire. Truly she was grateful, but why did it feel like she was insulting him at the same time?

"Bread, potatoesh, fruit, vegetablesh, pashta ... Elbion ish hosht to wide abundansh of food from faraway landsh. But I wash never fond of shweet foodsh," Pern sighed, arms coming to rest on the knees of her folded legs. She ventured a look back in time to see him offering up the charred meat. A silent nod thanked him and she bit into it without another word. Charred food never bothered her, in fact she rather liked it. Maybe it just reminded her of the smell of the forge.

"I take it that'sh not normal food ... for an orc."

 

[Hath Charosh]

Hath couldn't help but think that he might have offended her by offering food that wasn't to her liking. If that turned out the case she was going to be in for worse by the time they had crossed the savanna. These coastal plains were incredibly fertile by comparison, with an abundance of food.

"We eat them, but not as much. Grains, bread, do not...too much does not sit well," he said. Their kind adapted quickly, but they were still most suited to hunting and foraging on the move. Too many processed grains and vegetables upset him. From what he had seen the amount of meat one ate in human society was related to their status.

"When I saw Elbion with Scabhair, we went to a part of town that was not nice. Why do the poor stay there eating scraps instead of being out...here and finding food themselves?" Hath asked, deciding to voice the question as it arrived in his head.

The rest of the natjack was cooking well. He would let it cook slowly through the night with the heat of those rocks and the smoke.

Hath gave some thought to how the tribe would react to Pern. Grateful, he expected, if she really could teach them to make better quality steel. It would take away one of the items they had to barter hard for, or steal, every year.

 

[Pern]

Pern chewed slowly, trying not to think of the people of Elbion too much. Memories of her home seemed to turn her stomach, especially when she really looked at where she was now, knowing just how far away home was. A frown surfaced, "I shupposhe becaush they are shcared," she offered quietly, "they are not shtrong and brave like you and your clan. Orcsh fear ... what, I do not know. Bigger predatorsh? Humansh fear the orcsh. Itsh why they are not sho common in Elbion."

 

[Hath Charosh]

"So they end up trapped by the walls?" he asked. His tone was surprisingly thoughtful.

Hath was too focused on finishing the lightly cooked strip of meat to notice how the mention of home affected her.

"What I fear is those crowds," Hath admitted. "I do not like them."

Big crowds of people packed into the public spaces of the cities made him genuinely anxious and prone to lashing out. It was something he had learned to manage when visiting the settlements on the edge of the savanna to trade.

 

[Pern]

Had to chuckle at that.

"Lesh trapped ... more ... protected. They build thoshe wallsh on purposhe..." she glanced to him as he admitted his disliking for the crowds. Before this might have confused her, but she had no concept of wilderness before. Pern assumed that Hath, like what she assumed for all orcs from beyond the city, lived with a large clan, perhaps in a settlement or city far away. Wasn't he familiar with crowds?

Not as much as she would have thought, from the sounds of it.

"It getsh mush more crowded during peak trade sheason. Not sho bad thish time of year..." she smiled, "how big ish your clan?"

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Couple of hundred," he mused. "Even we we settle, we spread."

He picked his fingers clean, glad of a good meal. The dried blood, smoke and grit were caked into his skin and clothes. Water would be scarce soon so he planned to take advantage of the river.

"It gets..worse?" Hath asked. He managed to look thoroughly mortified at the idea.

"I'm not even with tribe most of the time," he explained. "Go ahead of them. Hunt. Find the good, the safe routes forward."