by Peter John
I did as he suggested and bathed my wounds as best I could. There were over thirty cuts extending all across my body. One of the worse ones was a stab into my thigh. I suspected it had nicked my femoral artery, but lucky for me it had not torn nor ruptured further. It was still seeping blood though, and hurt like the dickens. It was while I was standing naked in the gloom of late evening, rinsing off the dirt and grime with the small bucket filling with bloody water as I rinsed using the small aqueduct tapping off the main stream.
Dried blood and sweat from my battle combined with the flickering firelight from a torch on the patio were casting ghostly shadows around me. I was lost in a moment of nothingness. What I mean by nothingness is the kind of trance that men go into when in a shower or doing something methodical that doesn’t require active engagement of the mind. It’s the kind of trance that women seldom understand. They always believe we should be thinking something or planning, scheming, but never ever could we be doing anything that could be called “nothing”. I was an expert in this form of trance. It often accompanied a day of fishing or came about while staring out over a beautiful landscape. Lost in this nothingness and soaking in the quiet noises around the village, I didn’t notice the additional shadow that appeared next to me until it was almost upon me. When I did notice it, I whirled around startled and before me stood a tall and sleek silhouette. The torchlight behind obscuring what could only be the Shaman. The figure was slimmer than I expected and seemed to have somewhat pronounced hips, a strange sort of curvaceousness in the typical pear shape. Come to think of it were those breasts?
I squeaked indignantly as I covered up my nether region realizing too late that this was a woman and an exquisite full-bodied one at that, standing not a few paces from me and she was half naked too, with only a platted skirt and bedecked in a plethora of beads, tattoos and piercings. Some piercings looked painful to say the least, but immediately struck a chord of possibility deep in my adolescent psyche, especially glinting and dangling as they did.
“Umm, …Hi.” I said awkwardly, my posture one of mixed consternation. The phase where you have too many conflicting ideas and just melt down when none of them spring to the fore. She was still a rough silhouette, but the few glimpses I got of her were decidedly lovely. It appeared as if she was certainly topless with a chest as proud and packed as a peacock. Ok, probably not the best choice of words, but her long raven hair fanned out around her face, making it hard for me to see in the shadow she cast.
Her arms suddenly folded protectively across her chest and I realized I had been staring.
“Pardon me.” I mumbled as I focused and conjured my robe to cover myself to hide my flush of embarrassment and give myself some semblance of dignity.
“When they told me a human needed mending, they did not tell me I would find him prancing around naked and fouling our drinking water!” came her dry sultry voice that almost seemed to whisper in intensity.
I turned around seeing that the bucket I had been using had spilled over back into the aqueduct’s main channel. Catching it up, I tried to make amends, but the damage had been done and the dirty water was already in the system. I could hear snickering coming from Raúl, who had disappeared back into the hut.
“It’s not that funny!” I snarled at him, only to hear his snickering increase to laughter.
The Shaman tis tsked at me and then spat a glob of phlegm onto the ground beside her in disgust at my antics. It must have been a cultural thing, but for me, that shattered the dreamy sexy appearance immediately.
“Thank you for coming to my aid so quickly, my name is Petros” This time I bowed slightly trying to follow the Orcs traditional form of meeting. She harrumphed and beckoned for me to come towards the patio in front of the wooden hut. In the light I saw her clearly for the first time, and the web of tattoos upon her body made her look fully clothed. The additional studs, piercings and beads dangling around her neck and from other places, left one realizing why she didn’t wear a top. That must chafe something awful. I again realized I was staring and tried to make direct eye contact instead. Her face was fair, not as dark as her fellow Orcs and she had pretty, almost delicate features. It made me reflect on what Prince Horatio had told me in that all five races were related by a common ancestor. The Orc men I had seen were not nearly this pretty however and their hippo frog faces didn’t seem to afflict their finer sex. Unless she was an anomaly. (Try saying that fast five times in a row).
“What should I do?” I enquired politely, wanting the healing to be done quickly. It was annoying having a flashing icon in my vision showing my depleting health and stamina, and the sting of the cuts had not yet abated, sometimes intensifying when I moved.
“Just stand still” she said and then with a frown and a guttural utterance she suddenly started to emanate a dark red fire which seemed to glow and distribute across her many tattoos, the dark lines became brighter and brighter outlining each picture on her torso, the patterns seeming to swirl with the contours of her body, then along down her arms and up her neck to engulf her face. The piercings which were everywhere seemed to glow brighter too, and I noticed a bright white gem shine as the stream of red light seemed to flow towards it and then within it and then as it reached an almost unbearable intensity, the light reversed out along those same lines except this time the white gem seemed to bleed off the white light into the tattoo patterns, having absorbed the red light entirely.
The white gem was in her earlobe and as the stream contoured out, she grabbed my hand and I felt the stab of magical influence upon my body. The white light streamed from her along her tattoos and then into me. It seeped into my core and suffused my being. Streaming into me. It was warm and cool, dry and wet and all together intoxicating. It filled my being with an energy and sense of fulfillment that I had seldom felt before. It reverberated through my soul and I reveled in it. I felt like I had had my Christmas dinner, and Thanksgiving turkey all in one meal. I was satiated and intoxicated. I was… ALIVE!
As suddenly as it had started, the complete absence of it left me reeling. In its aftermath, I noticed my health bar had hit 100% and my stamina bar was replenished too. It wasn’t the same kind of healing spell that I could do but wow, it had some kick to it.
“That there is some awesome Juju,” I said, and the Shaman smiled weakly and then sat upon the patio edge. It had been an effort and not easily done.
“Thank you kindly,” I stated. “May I know your name?”
“You may know what I tell you youngling, do not try to flatter me with kind words. I do my duty, no more, no less.”
“Very well, ..um Shaman…ess?” I replied with an enquiring lilt.
“You may call me Bab. Shaman Bab. Now if you are all healed, I have other duties to attend. A word of warning, however, if you choose to drink tonight at the banquet, do not expect sympathy or healing. You will have to endure THAT on your own. On the morrow you will meet with one of my acolytes to begin your training in the Dark elements of magic and it would be wise to have a clear head.”
With that she accessed another glob of offending phlegm from somewhere deep in her sinuous neck and cast it into the dark shadows where it hit something solidly, and I swear I could feel the shudder of its impact reverberate through my feet. I wisely kept silent, wondering how such a young, fair looking vixen could be both the Shaman of this village as well as the world’s best spitting champion. Deciding at last that the jobs probably came hand-in-hand or is that tongue-in-cheek and that it would be best to get on with things, I excused myself from her presence, although she barely deigned to nod in dismissal as I went into the hut to grill Raúl on what else I didn’t know about this place and these Orcs.
CHAPTER 23
Scalar Surprise
“You have to realize, Petros, we are really in this world. It’s not like in the Sims. We used a red orb to travel here. That means our real physical bodies are here. Teleported from the Absinthe ship to this plane. So you can really die here. Be mo
re careful than usual and don’t piss off the locals. They tolerate us and will help us, and all we have to do is conform to their customs and ways and follow their training. It is also the reason for your outburst of giggles after arriving. The red orb is known to build up emotions and make us somewhat unstable for the first few hours after porting.” explained Raúl.
We had been discussing the differences I had felt since coming to Illuminous and how it was more difficult getting and using magic than I had experienced before. It all made sense now. When I had first come to Illuminous with Horatio, I had been able to instinctively make shields almost without effort. This time I actively had to seek out my inner abilities and trigger them actively. Raúl had explained that it would be even more difficult when we were deployed because the Reaper officers had a dampening effect on magical abilities in their area of control. I was beginning to see again just how undercooked I was and began having second thoughts about joining the team. Despite my growing power, was I really ready for this new form of real combat?
With these thoughts roiling through my mind, we were summoned to the banquet and as guests of honor were given much attention. The whole event took place next to the town hall in a large open area. With the stars glinting above and fire torches around the periphery casting jovial shadows. Everyone was buzzing with excitement and I got the idea that banquets were not held very often. This was a very different sort of lifestyle to what the Elder Elves had, and reminded me somewhat of an Asterix comic book and one of the Gauls famous banquets, where tables and benches were arrayed in a horseshoe-like arrangement while servers hustled from the cooking fires to the tables bringing freshly roasted meat, and various potato like vegetables. A fruit-flavored punch was served too that had a real kick to it and I soon forgot my worries and joined in wholeheartedly with the festivities. As it turned out, the Orc women were very much the fairer sex, and I caught many of them eyeing me speculatively. I was equally enamored, being of young mind and body and certainly the alcoholic beverage was adding to my libidinous thoughts.
Before those could take root, however, Lord Groggar captured us, one under each protective arm as he led us to meet everyone else, one-by-one.
Both Raúl and I were toasted and greeted by almost everyone present, including the Orc Champion and the chap I had de-tongued. He couldn’t speak very well as a result, and instead to make his point he put his arm around me, and opening his mouth wide, showed me the new growth on his stunted appendage. It wiggled wetly in the back of his throat between the sparkling ivory of his tusks and teeth and that's about the time I lost track of proceedings, everything blending into dark but not unpleasant memories.
The unpleasantness only started about the time I woke up. Which was about the time I landed in the icy stream. Spluttering and swearing I came out of my drunken haze knee-deep in the middle of the very fresh mountain stream. A group of Orcs cheering as I realized they had been the ones to throw me in. I was naked again and had no idea how I had arrived in my current predicament. The jeering shouts from the townsfolk made me crouch down protectively as I saw Raúl completely passed out being carried along by another group of Orcs, also towards the river. His fate was sealed as I watched him arc through the air only to bluster and fumble up in much the same way I had, both of us shivering and naked in the middle of the stream. The Orcs quieted and Shaman Bab stepped forward.
“I warned you not to drink too much Tongue Taker” she intoned in the “I told you so” voice that mothers and sisters everywhere have access to.
I just groaned as the herd of elephants tried to break out from inside my skull. It was a rude awakening but was probably one of the most effective hangover cures I had ever had.
“Good, you are just in time!” echoed Lord Groggar’s voice from the opposite bank as a wave of warriors stepped to the bank and began disrobing.
Raúl, this time, groaned loudly. “Better summon your staff or sword Petros, we are going to spar. Just be warned that running water inhibits magic so you will have to concentrate really hard to just do the summoning. Madre de Dios! I forgot how badly that party drink of theirs affects me.”
He wasn’t wrong. I tried and failed several times before I got the staff in hand and by that time I had four burly Orcs with only their loincloths, moving ominously towards me, two with swords and two with pairs of short sticks, one in each hand. This was going to hurt.
“The same rules apply Petros, you can’t kill anyone and you can’t dismember anyone, but other than that, make them sorry.” said Raúl who was facing off to another four Orcs with the same weapon configuration and another two slightly further behind starting to wade into the river.
My head was throbbing, and I had the taste of bile in the back of my throat. Despite that, I pushed it out of my mind as I tried to get into battle mode. With almost the entire village along the banks of the stream, I realized we were supposed to stay in the water to complete this training. I had to look at it as training because if I didn’t I would accidentally hurt someone. I saw Raúl had managed to summon a similar loincloth to the warriors, so I tried the same. Instead of a loincloth, I got boxers, but those would do. What followed wasn’t pretty.
To sum it up it was a beat down, with Raúl and I getting the worst end of it. Okay, they outnumbered us and we gave as good as we got, but in the end, we got clubbed down and cut to ribbons. It doesn’t matter who you are and how well you have trained. More than five minutes of sustained real fighting is enough to make you forget your form and resort to brutal survival.
At that point where stamina is everything. My breath came in gasps and my senses were heightened, making strikes I took much more painful but equally making my own strikes more desperate and less controlled.
Standing in the knee-deep fast flowing water with slippery rocks, made for treacherous footing. This meant it was only a matter of time before I copped it.
And boy did we cop it. Despite ending up back-to-back, making a last stand, there were just too many of them, and they were much more controlled in their attacks. Coordinated and well-practiced.
A bad while later we were dragged to the bank to recover. The welts, bruises, and cuts on my body were superficial and not serious at all except they continually reminded me of my inadequacy and inability to prevent them, but they added to a new and growing sense of humbleness regarding this form of physical combat. It was unlike anything I had ever trained for before. In fact, all my training had been directed at short, sharp, hand-to-hand confrontations with the idea that it should end quickly and lethally. It was a lesson well learned.
Against a number of opponents, I had to draw on Aikido techniques and continually move to make the enemies obstruct each other and thus control how many attacks came at me at once. When I ran out of steam, it was over.
The rest of the day was even more difficult to bare. We were not given healing as promised and had to endure as they took us into various greenhouse type buildings set into the hillsides on the outskirts of the village. I got the impression that most of the Orcs buildings were burrowed into the side of the mountains, conjoined by an intersecting warren of tunnels. Each one of the greenhouses had magical light interspersed at varying intensities and had a vast array of different plants inside. Each representing different worlds that were known by the Orcs and had been or were under attack by the Reapers.
The assortment of plants considered immediately important were shown to us and their various uses were explained in great detail, which included healing benefits as well as detrimental effects such as poison, paralysis and so on. Each plant had quite distinctive features. They introduced us to the odor, taste, color and shapes of each, and the different phases of their life-cycle as well as the periods when they were most effective. After the short tour of each greenhouse, we were then grilled independently about how much knowledge we retained. For every wrong answer we had to run around the village walls only to return and be shown again what we had gotten wrong. It wasn’t a fair system either, be
cause if I got something wrong, Raúl had to join me on the run, and similarly if he got something wrong I had to join him.
The running wasn’t so bad as I was supremely fit now and well used to running, but with the hangover still looming in the back of my head as well as the beating we had endured, it made it almost unbearable. Raúl only joined me for those greenhouses that were new to him, but was excused from the ones he had already learned. During this time, I was taken at last to the Scalar home world greenhouse. Each greenhouse was an amazing repository of native life with different climates and zones replicated exactly to facilitate the various forms of life that were growing upon those worlds. A kind of botanical gardens. I began to respect the Orcs as green-fingered geniuses. Their herb lore was literally out of this world. When a certain grass was shown to have hydrating properties as well as the ability to act as a mild sedative. I surreptitiously took a little more than I should for one dose and during the quiz I deliberately got one wrong answer. On the subsequent run, I handed Raúl some of the grass and chewed some more myself. The relief was immediate and refreshing, and both Raúl and I were much better students thereafter. In between, we were fed, watered, and treated as new recruits. I had been through this drill many times and just took it in my stride. What else could I do?
