by Ian Rodgers
One of the orcs who had appeared shouted something back at Tarn. Dora only caught a few words, but they weren’t encouraging. ‘Trespassing,’ ‘filthy,’ and ‘elves’ weren’t good words to hear together.
Tarn bellowed something back, jabbing a finger at his three employers, laughed, then shook his head violently.
“What are they saying?” Enrai hissed at Dora.
“Um, it’s a bit jumbled, but the wild orc talking to Tarn, who is calling himself Raid Leader Nurd, says a scout saw some elfish trespassers in the jungle. Tarn responded by saying there were no elves here, and that he was crazy to think that,” the half-orc, absent-mindedly stroking the Serpent of Aril on her shoulders to keep it calm.
The Raid Leader bristled at Tarn’s accusation, and then brandished a large war club in the Yellowmoon tribesman’s face. Embedded in the club was a large chunk of topaz that was glowing faintly. The white-haired guide grimaced as the Raid Leader shouted at him.
“This could be bad,” Dora warned Ain and Enrai under her breath. When they looked at her in confusion, she discreetly pointed to the war club. “That weapon in his hands can detect elves. If anyone with at least a quarter elvish blood comes within a hundred meters of it, the gem will start glowing. It’s how they know about your presence, Ain, despite the hidden ears.”
Dora then frowned as she heard something that piqued her interest. “That’s odd. Give me a second.”
“Tarn! What was that last thing he just said?” she asked the guide, drawing attention to herself in the process.
“Now is not the time, Girlie!” Tarn growled.
“I need to know what he said! Who passed by here recently?”
“Fine, if it’ll keep you quiet, Nurd here said that a half-elf with torn ears traveled through their territory with a human partner,” Tarn said quickly. “Said half-elf smelled like blood and had a cursed battle axe!”
“That sounds disturbingly familiar,” Enrai said, recalling the last person they’d met that fit that description.
“Bane was here?!” Ain hissed furiously. The wild orcs surrounding the group tensed up at the Spellsword’s sudden burst of anger, and Tarn hastily barked out reassurances.
“Seems that way,” Dora replied slowly, translating the rest of the information Raid Leader Nurd had barked at them. “He cut down every orc that tried to attack him and his companion. He killed twenty of them before they gave up.”
“If he is here…”
“He’s not. Bane the Butcher passed by ‘a moon hence.’ Or, in Common, last month,” Dora quickly stated. Ain simmered in his rage, but a hand on his shoulder courtesy of Enrai calmed the Grand Elf down.
“Is Tarn going to be able to talk these guys down?” Enrai asked worriedly once his friend was calm and collected once more. “Because I don’t think I’ll be able to control my Fire mana if it comes to a fight.”
Still concerned about Ain’s reaction to the news that the infamous mercenary who had fought them back in Saluda was in the Sprawling Jungle, Dora shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. These orcs really don’t like elves. I mean, they really, really hate them. Every adjective used to describe an elf that has come out of these wild orcs’ mouths has been an insult. Plus, they’re really angry at Bane so I think they might want to take their frustration out on us.”
Enrai frowned at that but said nothing. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on the surrounding wild orcs. Tarn continued to shout at the Raid Leader in orcish, but it was clear a peaceful resolution was not on the menu.
“Gorbzt!” Raid Leader Nurd roared.
‘Attack!’ Dora’s mind translated for her. She whipped out her crossbow and fired it into the crowd of wild orcs as they surged forward. An orc with red warpaint fell, the crossbow bolt between his eyes. She reloaded quickly, years of practice making her movements smooth and efficient. A second bolt went thudding into the chest of another tribesman, knocking him off his feet.
Ain drew his saber and let lightning crawl along its edge before swinging it in an arc towards the enemy forces. A crescent-shaped shockwave of electrical energy shot forth, cutting two orcs in half. The Spellsword stabbed forward and unleashed a bolt of lightning at an orc with a large, painted wooden shield. Surprisingly, the shield stopped the magic attack, glowing brightly as the painted runes resisted the spell.
“Crackling Lance!” Ain shouted, sending a twisted, drill-shaped spear of lightning at the shield-wielding orc. The second, more powerful follow-up attack from the Grand Elf obliterated the shield and its wielder.
With Enrai, he spun around and lashed out with a kick towards a group of raiders who were trying to sneak up behind them. A cannonball of compressed air shot out and slammed into the orcs, scattered them while also breaking bones. He then leapt into the air and began to deliver a series of palm strikes which sent shockwaves of bludgeoning air into the few wild orcs who had primitive bows and arrows. They were knocked down, their crude projectile weapons shattered, and their own bodies pummeled so badly blood leaked from their mouths.
The Monk landed while panting heavily, embers spilling from his fingers as the adrenaline spurred his Fire element mana into a frenzy. It was perhaps the most volatile Element of magic, and it demanded to be used. For the moment, though, Enrai resisted the urge to burn everything down. He wanted to see what the wild orcs would do now that their assault was broken.
After seeing the first wave decimated by the trio with barely any effort on their part, the rest of the orcs stopped in their tracks, warily eyeing them. Raid Leader Nurd snarled in fury and disbelief as yet again his warriors were bested by outsiders.
“You can’t beat us,” Dora said, stepping forward toward the wild orc commander. “Turn around now, and you can spare your men further pain.”
She hoped that the wild orcs would retreat after witnessing how outmatched they were, but her hopes were dashed when Nurd shook with rage as he stared at her.
“You dare speak to me as if you are my better?! You, a filthy half-blood?!” Nurd screamed in guttural Common. He lunged at her, topaz-studded warclub raised high. She flinched back, and Ain and Enrai prepared to leap to her defense.
An angry ‘Hiss!’ filled the air, and the Serpent of Aril around Dora’s shoulders shot forward, leaping off of her. Its fangs sank deep into the startled wild orc’s neck, and he screeched in shock and pain. Nurd tried to tear the snake from his throat, but it evaded his clumsy grasps and detached from the Raid Leader’s neck on its own.
It landed in the grass, hissing loudly at the surrounding orcs who quickly backed away in terror upon recognizing just what had attacked their commander.
“Kezu shal,” one of the orcs muttered, staring first at the Serpent of Aril, and then at Dora whom it had leapt to the defense of.
“Kezu shal,” a few other wild orcs repeated, awe and fear in their expressions as they looked at the half-orc.
Then, as one, the raiders bowed, and stepped away from her group, disappearing back into the Sprawling Jungle’s depths. They left behind the corpses, as well as the writhing body of Nurd whose screams had turned hoarse and feeble as the Madness Venom coursed through his veins.
Soon, it was only the traveling quartet left. Ain sheathed his sword, Enrai did a few quick calming breaths to regain control of his Fire mana, and Dora slipped her crossbow back into position on her back.
That left Tarn to stare at the group in utter disbelief.
“…What did I just see?” he demanded incredulously.
“I told you we were stronger than we looked,” Enrai said smugly. Dora nodded in agreement as she bent down to where the Serpent of Aril sat, offering it her arm. With a happy hiss it slithered up her arm and settled back down onto her shoulders.
“You practically ripped them apart!” Tarn stated, still not sure he believed what he’d witnessed.
“To be fair, against a group that didn’t have powerful magic users like us, they’d have been more of a threat,” Ain said generously. “However, unfor
tunately for them, Enrai and I are both very skilled at what we do and in how we fight.”
“So, how much farther till we reach Argyne?” Dora inquired after offering a quick prayer for the souls of the fallen wild orcs. Tarn shook his head to clear his thoughts before answering.
“Um, less than a week. Four days, if things go well,” the elderly orc revealed. The half-orc gave him a grin that was not befitting a Healer.
“Excellent. Now, let’s keep going.”
Chapter 19: The Unchained
“That’s Argyne?” Dora asked incredulously as she stared at the interior of the city past the gates. She wasn’t sure what to expect from the sole human city in the Dreadlands. A towering fortress would have made sense, given how violent the denizens of the Sprawling Jungle were. And while there was a large, heavily fortified wall encircling the city, most of the city didn’t match her expectations.
“Yup. Good old Argyne, the City of Relaxation,” Tarn said with an amused smile as he observed the bewildered expressions on the half-orc, elf, and human as they walked into the city. Even the pinkish-red snake looked taken aback.
The city was a beach resort. Dozens of bungalows and cozy cottages lined a pristine white beach, while palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, providing shade for the people walking along straight and clean streets.
Vibrant colors decorated every building, all of which were built for looks rather than defensive purposes. Every other store sold knick-knacks, novelty items, and souvenirs. And there was none of the oppressive air of the Sprawling Jungle. Enrai could feel his mana being freed from the ancient magical jungle’s presence.
The population of the city was diverse. While humans were the most numerous, orcs were a close second, and there were elves, dwarves, gnomes, and even a few beastkin and merfolk wandering around, the latter using enchanted, floating bubbles to carry them around given their lack of legs.
“Yeah, first-timers always have the same expression of dumbfounded disbelief,” Tarn said with a laugh.
“Why is… I mean how… I always heard that the Orrian colonies over here were sad and depressing shanty towns!” Dora exclaimed, the Serpent of Aril on her shoulders hissing in what sounded like agreement.
“You’re not wrong, most of the colonial settlements are trash heaps populated by criminals and the poor. Wild orc raids and general lack of access to resources made the colonies a money-sink for the Orrian kingdoms, so when the Veil of Mists fell and Drakon with all its easily accessible goods was rediscovered, they pretty much abandoned their Dreadland colonies,” Tarn explained as he led the trio through the streets.
“Two centuries ago, though, one of the kings of Varia was approached by some merchants from the Crawling Coast with an interesting business proposal, and together they revitalized the largest of the Dreadland’s colonies into a combination port and resort,” the Yellowmoon tribesman explained. “Argyne here is now the main stopover point for ships coming and going from Val’Narash, as well as a massive holiday resort for rich travelers. They turned the decrepit city, once a cesspool of crime, into a semi-autonomous city-state that is all about fun and games!”
“Gambling is legal here, and all sorts of sports are held in the stadium,” Tarn explained, pointing out the various buildings. “And the market is one of the best around! Argyne went from nothing to something quickly, and its existence has also helped Graz Yur Yenod’s economy and expansion.”
“No wonder the Unchained Legion have their main base here! It’s great!” Enrai cheered, staring at all the beautiful, scantily clad women everywhere.
“Actually, the Legion was here long before the rebuilding. They pretty much squatted here before Argyne was revitalized, and were the sole reason it wasn’t completely overrun and turned into a pirate’s den like Flotsam and Jetsam, two other former colonies that were abandoned,” Tarn explained. “Now, they’re the main source of defense for the city. The city government pays the Unchained Legion a retainer fee and allows them to own a large amount of tax-free land, and in exchange the mercenaries patrol the jungle and repel monsters, wild orcs, bandits and pirates.”
“I see,” Dora said slowly. “So, how do I meet them for a request?”
“Normally, you’d just go to their fortress-mansion and speak to whoever was on guard duty to pass along a message, but since you’re looking to meet with the Avatar of Kuronos, that may take a bit longer,” Tarn said.
“Do you have any contacts who might be able to get us a meeting with an officer of the Unchained Legion?” Enrai asked.
“I suppose I could ask around,” the elderly orc mused. “I don’t know anyone from the Legion personally, but one of my friends might know something.”
He then pointed to a hotel. “Speaking of friends, here we are! One of the finest places to stay while in Argyne! The Crab Shack!”
“That is a terrible name for a business that doesn’t serve food made from crustaceans,” Ain said as he stared up at the hotel Tarn had brought them to. Dora and Enrai silently agreed.
The hotel was a three-story building covered in crabs. Painted pictures of crabs lined the walls while dried crab shells were glued to the parts that weren’t painted. The decorations were over the top with the crab-based theme.
Tarn merely laughed when he saw the trio’s expressions. “Yeah, my friend is a bit weird. But at least he likes me enough to give discounts to my customers! Come on in, I’ll get us set up.”
The group walked inside, and found the interior just as tackily decorated. In the lobby nets were strung up in place of window curtains, and attached to the far wall there was a large glass aquarium in which a dozen multicolored crabs swam. There were tables set up in another part of the ground floor, and the tasty smells coming from it showed that there was an attached restaurant. Despite the building’s horrendous decor, there were a lot of guests milling about, chatting and acting impressed with the Crab Shack’s style.
“I guess tourists want tacky when they’re on vacation,” Dora muttered in disbelief. The snake on her shoulders hissed in agreement.
“No sane person would want to live in a place like this,” Enrai agreed solemnly.
“Yes, it’s all true!” a flamboyant voice called out. Approaching them was a half-orc with red hair and a wide smile on his face. He wore a strange, tie dyed shirt with flower patterns all over it, and baggy shorts with sandals. Based on the wrinkles he had, he was probably as old as Tarn, perhaps a tad younger.
“Ah, Belro, old friend! Good to see business is booming!” the jungle guide said happily, shaking the male half-orc’s hands vigorously.
“And good to see you! Shorz jorz!”
“Shorz tuz!” Tarn replied. He then gestured to Dora, Enrai, and Ain when his hand was released. “These are the ones I escorted through the Sprawling Jungle this time. They’re Girlie, Baldy, and Spicy. Introduce yourselves!”
“My name is Dora. Dora Halfmoon,” the mint green-skinned Healer said with a shake of her head, and then offering one to Tarn’s friend. He took it enthusiastically, somehow not noticing the large red snake draped across her shoulders.
“Enrai,” the Qwanese Monk introduced, taking the man’s hand next.
“Ain,” the Spellsword said next. The two chose to keep their last names private, just in case they had to do some potentially illegal things to get Dora in to see the Unchained Legion. No last names meant less of a connection to who they really were.
Belro the half-orc just nodded, a happy smile on his face, before it morphed into a frown.
“Oh dear, oh dear, look at you three! Oh, it must have been a harsh trek through the jungles!”
“Actually, it was rather pleasant. We only had to hide from monsters a few times,” Dora replied. Tarn and Belro both chuckled at her plucky attitude.
“Still, you must be tired, hungry, and worst of all, filthy from such a hard journey. Please, let me show you to the baths so you can get cleaned up!”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Dora tried
to protest, but she was shushed by the older half-orc.
“No, no, no! A young lady and her strapping companions should not be left in such a sad state! And especially not friends of Tarn!”
The orc in question just snickered at the expressions on the three travelers. “Don’t try fighting Belro on this, kids. You’ll just lose after he wears you down with incessant nagging. Best just to take a bath now and avoid being thrown into the ocean later.”
The trio looked at Belro warily, who just smirked and shot them a wink. “Tarn is right, you know. Now, would you like scented soap and shampoo?”
∞.∞.∞
“That bath was lovely,” Dora moaned happily as she sunk into the squishy softness of a bed. She was wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe, courtesy of Belro. “And this bed! Oooh, this feels wonderful!”
“How long has it been since I’ve felt this clean and comfortable?” she asked the Serpent of Aril who rested on the bed alongside her. “Probably not since Creidor. But even then, Reed’s baths just don’t compare to the one here! What did he call it again? A ‘spa?’”
The pinkish-red snake said nothing in response, content to lie in a sunbeam and soak up warm rays.
“Yeah, that seems nice,” Dora said drowsily, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. “Hmmm, maybe just a short nap…”
She closed her eyes. ‘Maybe just a few minutes,’ she thought to herself. ‘I can close my eyes for a few minutes…’
Dora wasn’t sure when it had happened, but a short time after shutting her eyelids she found herself surrounded by silver. The half-orc heaved out a sigh as she took in the familiar landscape.
“This is starting to get old,” she muttered despondently.
“Utopia… find Utopia…”
“Lady Nia?” Dora gasped, hearing the goddess’ voice.
“Amongst the Lost can Utopia be found!”
“What do you mean?” she cried out, looking around for a glimpse of the goddess of love.
“Please, don’t you have anything else to say?” Dora pleaded when no further answer came to her. “I just want to save my family! I’m not a hero, I can’t save the world as well!”
