Mirtul 25
We arrived at Gaard’s hall early in the morning. The hall itself was rather
interesting, but alas, the details of it seem to have mysteriously fled
my memory. Finally then, we came to meet the elusive Gaard himself. He
told us that the items he wanted delivered to Silverymoon were some small
blue stones. Apparently, the stones had been found somewhere in the North,
but nothing much was known about the stones. Gaard explained that the
stones didn’t appear to be anything special, but that some important people
in Silverymoon, mages nonetheless, were worried about the stones. Worried
that they might somehow have magical properties. Worried that those in
Neverwinter were not skilled enough to detect this magic. Worried perhaps
that the stones would end up in the wrong hands. Anyway, Lady Alustriel
from Silverymoon had asked of Gaard to have the stones delivered to her
for further investigation. We were to be the carriers of this seemingly
harmless delivery. As the reward for this task seemed quite inviting;
a quite generous advance payment for each of us paired with a precious
rare coin. And the prospect of more money upon delivery of the stones.
Obviously, Lady Alustriel and Gaard thought the stones to be more than
they let on, because they’d sent out two other parties already, carrying
with them the very same type of stones we would be carrying. The group
to arrive first in Silverymoon with the stones, would get a substantial
reward, but alas, we were the third and last group to leave, giving the
other two groups a headstart. Still, out of money as we were, we did not
really have a choice. Had Gaard known about our financial situation, he
might have not offered quite as much, so we gratefully accepted the quest.
We left Gaard after receiving the stones and our initial payment from
him. It was time to prepare ourselves for the quest we were about to undertake.
Each of us would need a horse, for Silverymoon was a long way away from
Neverwinter. We also needed to purchase warm clothing and provisions,
because nature can sometimes treat a traveler unfairly.
Deciding that there lies safety in numbers, we teamed up with a small
caravan group, called the Lucky Pears. Gavert, Lise and Kibbit made up
this small force. Experienced fighters! Surely, they could teach us a
thing or two about life on the road. They were traveling to Triboar, which
was right along our way to Silverymoon. We would travel with them till
Triboar, then try to team up with another caravan, planning to thus reach
Silverymoon safely.
Meanwhile, we had come to meet a man named Minnerl. Apparently a once
might mage, now low on luck because of some curse Manshoon the Zhentarim
cultist leader had laid upon him. Magical items were now useless in Minnerl’s
hands. Thus he had only one option left to him: sell all his priced magical
belongings in an attempt to raise enough money to go to a priest of Mystra
that could undo the curse. He sold us a staff of fireballs for a relatively
cheap price. Naive we were, for it later turned out to be scam. The fireball
staff shot out fireballs alright, but they were merely illusions. At this
very moment, I carry this staff, in the hopes of having enough money to
have it recharged once we reach Silverymoon. Even if the fireballs aren’t
real, I’m sure I can make good use of this magical staff; combined with
some of my simple illusion spells, I might be able to strike fear in the
hearts of my enemies, giving my friends just enough time to deal with
them in a proper manner. Yes, this staff will prove useful after all.
The Lucky Pears were all ready to leave by now, and we saddled up quickly,
tightening up our belongings, making sure nothing would fall out of any
of our bags during the ride. Smalltalk filled most of the ride, which
seemed pretty uneventful. Somewhat bored, I decided to put up a little
show with Volo and Dolo. Lise and Gavert seemed annoyed at first, almost
ready to do me physical harm, but quickly warmed up to the humor of my
trusted puppet.
Eventually, we came upon the village of Thundertree, one of our early
rest stops. We set up camp and determined watch duties. I was lucky enough
to get the last watch. Lucky, because I’ve learned that the middle watch
can do a lot of damage to the physical health of one like me. The middle
watch breaks up the night, giving a person not enough time to catch rest
before, and not nearly enough time to sleep afterwards. I’ve learned to
avoid this middle watch, preferring the early or late watch.
Our first night outside of Neverwinter passed by and we were ready to
continue our journey early in the morning the next day.
Myrtul 26th
Life on the road is hard. The ground is hard and cold, my behind is sore
from riding in the saddle all day. I’d never expected it to be like this.
As a child I would hear stories of great adventurers, traveling across
the world, experiencing all sorts of wonders while romancing women, slaying
monsters and growing wealthy from the treasures they found. So far, all
I had to show for my adventures was bags under my eyes.
We left Thundertree and continued on towards Triboar. Soon, we were riding
through snow, so we all had to wear our warmer clothing. The additional
clothes wore heavily on my body, but luckily my horse was able to carry
the burden.
In the afternoon we encountered tracks of Orcs. If only we’d been more
careful after this ominous sign.
We set up camp in the evening, everyone shivering because of the freezing
cold. I was lucky once again, for I was assigned to the last watch duty
once more. When the sun finally came crawling over the horizon, my body
was stiff and my muscles sore. I was glad to jump up into the saddle again,
where my legs could rest and my body regain its strength.
Myrtul 28th
Lise mentioned that ahead lay the town of Conyberry. He also told us a
lore about a ghost named Agatha, who according to the local people lived
in the Neverwinter Woods. Supposedly Agatha was seen as somewhat of a
protector, but I still have not heard any confirmation of this theory.
Lise warned us of the mood of the people of Conyberry. He said that when
Agatha was in a foul mood, so would the Conyberry villagers be. And unsuspecting
travelers could find themselves the target of their misplaced wrath.
Poor Lise. These were the last words I remember him speaking. A few hours
later we were ambushed by those same creatures whose tracks we’d spotted
a day earlier: orcs. They appeared suddenly in front of us, numbering
at least 20. Armed they were, some with swords, some with spears, some
with bows or crossbows. Perhaps we would have been able to fight these
orcs off, but even more of them appeared behind us, effectively blocking
us in.
Kibbit was the first to take action, firing an arrow at the creatures,
striking one of them fatally in the chest. At this, the orcs attacked
en masse. Our own party jumped into action, each of us trying his or her
best to defend the caravan. I must admit that I was not of much help in
this fight. I’d lived a pretty uninteresting live until then, never having
to defend myself against physical violence. My nerves betrayed me, and
I’m afraid that I went into somewhat of a shock, my body and mind unable
to deal with the terrifying prospect of defeat and death.
I was lucky, I guess, to get hit by a stray crossbow bolt (for surely
no orc would’ve actually taken the time to aim at me, since there were
more dangerous targets to pick from), which shook my out of my inaction.
All around my, people were injured, some so badly that I did not expect
them to live to see another day. Orcs were dying as well, but the odds
were heavily in their favor. One booming orc voice could be heard, yelling
over the sounds of battle. I didn’t think any of us could understand the
strange words.
Suddenly Milo, my dearest friend, stepped up and proved himself a savior.
He had actually picked up on some Orcish in his youth and was able to
understand the orcish words that were been yelled at us. Milo told us
to put our trust in him and to resist fighting, dropping our weapons to
the ground. As our situation looked dire and we appeared to be indeed
losing, most of us complied. Only Lise kept fighting, apparently in a
fighting rage, unable to hear anything or anyone. I had already dropped
the ‘fireball’ staff that I’d been handed by Milo. Actually, I’d lost
control of it, trying to maintain control of my horse. I tried to save
Lise by distracting him with one of my simple spells. To my horror, the
result of my spell was that Lise was indeed distracted, leaving him vulnerable
to an orc attack. I still have bad dreams, seeing Lise die in front of
my eyes over and over again as an orcish spear sinks deep into his body.
With Lise died the last resistance the Lucky Pears and Unknowns put up.
We all had dropped our weapons and were now approached by the victorious
orcs.
Milo told us that the orcs planned to take us captive. Better captured
than death, I thought. But now that I now what captivity is like, perhaps
next time I might prefer death...
The battle over, the adrenaline left my body and pain entered in its
place. The crossbow bolt sticking in my side was burning my insides; its
barbs indicating an even more painful extraction lay ahead.
I was pleased to see that none of my close friends had died. But Kibbit
and Lise had paid the ultimate prize for defending us; their bodies lay
still on the ground, blood coloring the snow around them a deep red. Gavert,
the third member of the lucky spears, lay at the back of the caravan.
To this day I carry the hope that he was alive and able to use magic to
escape. For when the orcs approached his body, a sudden mist came up at
precisely that spot where Gavert lay, making his body disappear. Perhaps
this was simply a result of the magic dust he’d used earlier to make tracks
left behind by the wagons disappear (to make sure nobody would be able
to follow us). But maybe, just maybe, it was just another magic potion,
meant to carry off the user to a safe place. I pray for Gavert, for the
Lucky Pears did not deserve to perish at the hands of these orcs.
As for the rest of us, we were taken by the orcs, taking us to their
leader, someone named Xred.
The orcs made sure that all of us had surrendered our weapons, but I
was allowed to keep the staff, as I needed it for support while I walked.
I wonder what would’ve happened if they knew that it was a magical staff
of fireballs. Well, illusionary fireballs.
Into the Neverwinter Woods we went. No longer did horses ease our travel;
we were forced to march on foot. My injury was hurting me more than I
let on, and soon I was struggling, barely able to put one foot in front
of the other. The orcs had warned us that those that couldn’t keep up
would be killed. They obviously did not want to be slowed down. I knew
I had to keep up, but as my strength left my body, I collapsed to the
floor, unconscious, hitting the cold ground hard with my head (which I
luckily did not feel). I don’t know what exactly happened, but I think
Herod healed my crossbow bolt injury and even restored some of my vigor.
I was lucky, for the orcs had already started to approach me, probably
with the intend to kill the weak human that was laying still on the ground.
I got up quickly, using the staff again for support, although at this
point I felt good enough to do without.
Now that I had time to look around, no longer having to focus on the
physical limits of my frail body, I noticed that the orcs seemed frightened,
constantly looking around them as if expecting an attack by some unseen
force. The forest was still, but even I began to feel uncomfortable...
a forest was never <this> quiet. Where usually birds can be heard
chirping, complete silence hung in the air.
As we marched through the forest, the temperature rose gradually and
the snow started to fade, eventually disappearing altogether. There was
something unnatural about this sudden change, as I couldn’t see any sunlight
coming through the thick canopy of trees above me, so I could not come
up with a logical reason for the drastic shift of climate. I was actually
starting to sweat now, although that could have possibly been a result
of the wound I had suffered and the subsequent healing.
Finally we arrived at some sort of settlement, deep in the Neverwinter
Forest. An orc village, located in a clearing of about 600 square feet.
There must have been at least 200 orcs there, watching us as we entered
the settlement, still being driven on by our captors. Whipping posts signaled
that we might’ve just stumbled into a fate much worse than that of death.
We spotted three humans there, two men and one woman. The men were turning
a big treadmill, scars and chains revealing their slave status. The woman
had scars as well, chained to a ring in front of the treadmill. Their
eyes showed no emotions when they saw us. Our own eyes saw what our minds
were unwilling to accept: a second, unused treadmill.
I wasn’t able to really look at anything else after seeing this available
treadmill, knowing fully well that we were going to be forced to turn
in, bound in chains like the two men in front of us were. Later I had
more time to study the rest of the village. Besides the treadmills, there
were many thatch huts, housing for the many orcs. A strong fire was continually
burning in a brazier, right next to a stone table where the orcs would
later put us in manacles. On the far side of the clearing, some sort of
stone altar stood in front of a large stone tower, at least 50 feet high,
with enormous windows and a tremendously big gate which must have been
at least 12 feet high. About 100 feet to the left of this tower stood
a giant monolith, 15 feet high, a statue carved into it, depicting an
Ogre. Upon later study I found the word ‘Vaprak’ engraved at the bottom
of the monolith.
We were told to strip and drop all our belongings onto the floor. I had
no problem taking my clothes off, but I did not want to let any orc get
his hands on my precious puppet. I’d spent countless hours with it, entertaining
both myself and my ever-changing audience. I tried to fool the orcs with
a tale of mystery and magic, saying that the puppet was cursed and that
anyone laying a hand on it would be sorry. Ha, none of them even came
close to me after I finished the story. My puppet was safe for now, strung
around my neck.
Naked as we were, the orcs goaded us to the stone table now, where a
muscled orc in a smith’s apron used the fire to bind the manacles that
were put around our wrists. Our ankles suffered an equal fate. We were
then hoarded towards the middle of the clearing. I closed my eyes for
a moment, for I needed some relief from the constant pressure of the presence
of orcs around me. I needed to be able to drift away into my mind, searching
for a fond memory, looking for a safe place to hide part of myself until
this torture had ended. It was at this moment that a stinging sensation
entered my body. My momentary freedom was destroyed then, as my mind rushed
back to reality, desiring to discover what caused the pain that was now
coursing through my entire body. Only later did I find out that the orcs
had fired tiny crossbow bolts at us, tipped with some sort of poison that
left us all unable to control our bodies, putting each of us into a slumber
almost immediately, before our bodies even had time to fall to the ground.
We awoke later, no longer naked, loin cloths now covering us, much like
the humans we’d seen.
Chained to whipping posts, our arms were stretched out above our heads,
the entire village population standing in front of us, watching us.
I heard Milo speak in some language I did not comprehend (but now know
to be orcish) but was quickly told to be quiet. The orcs were not really
looking at us I now saw, their gaze being directed at the stone tower
instead. Finally, explaining the need for the huge door and windows, a
giant creature stepped out of the tower. Fear overtook me as it came walking
towards us, more and more details of its ugliness entering my weak mind.
At first it seemed to be just a giant orc, perhaps disproportioned because
of a weird experiment by some wicked mage, but the closer it got to us,
the more it became clear that this was not just a very large orc. Now
I know that it was an Ogre, but as I’d never seen one before, at that
moment all I could do was once again close my eyes, shutting out the images
of the ugly green face with the insane smile and the hairy yellow arms.
It spoke to us then. At first its words made it seem like we had to do
with a simpleton, but the more it talked, the more I became convinced
that we had to do with a madman instead. It talked about Agatha and Manshoon,
and about how it would protect its guests from the dangers of the Neverwinter
Woods. I finally figured out that this was Xred, the ‘leader’ the orcs
had talked about earlier. I could not comprehend why the orcs would follow
a creature such as this, for surely even an orc would notice that Xred’s
words didn’t make sense. When I opened my eyes for a moment, wanting to
see the creature that was speaking to us, I was reminded that there was
a very good reason for the orcs to follow this insane being: it’s size
alone was enough to make any individual follow it’s commands.
I’m not too sure anymore what exactly Xred said, because I pretty much
just let his words go in one ear and out the other. I tried, I really
did, to make sense of it, looking for clues, but I simply couldn’t understand
its babbling. I do remember that it told one of the orcs, an orc dressed
in some sort of special clothing -apparently Xred’s second in command-,
to teach us a lesson in discipline. Immediately, we were being flogged
mercilessly. I am still thankful for the fact that I lost consciousness
almost instantly.
Mirtul 29
I awoke from a deep slumber, laying on cold stones. I wasn’t sure if
I should be thrilled to be awake, because my leg manacles were now secured
to a long metal rod. My friends suffered a similar fate.
Looking around I realized that we were now inside a small cave. I’d noticed
this cave earlier that day but hadn’t really though much of it. I saw
that the two men were bound to the same metal rod that we were bound to.
The female was also in the cave, chained to the wall. It seemed like the
orcs took extra care of her, although I wouldn’t consider her position
much of a luxury. I’d heard Xred say some words about this woman, who’s
name was Soggrin, a daughter of the chieftain of the barbarian Black Raven
tribe. Later I found out that Xred indeed had special plans for her, thinking
her part of a prophecy. She was to give birth to a son who would inherit
the power of the ancient Netherese. Xred thought the conception would
take place at Midsummer this year, and somehow felt the presence of huge
quantities of a weed called Schoelweed were absolutely necessary. This
is why the orcs had settled in the Neverwinter Woods because that is the
only place that this Schoelweed could be found. Supposedly this weed has
magical properties, but only when ground by humans. That’s where we came
in; we were to grind the Schoelweed.
I can tell you now that we were able to free Soggrin from her captivity,
saving her from being forced to mate with the monster named Xred, and
that she became a valuable member of our group, but I’m afraid that our
powers were unable to protect her from an even greater evil... That however
is a story I will tell later.
The two men were members of the Zhentarim, the evil cult that has been
throwing a dark shadow over Faerun for far too long already. Soggrin had
previously been a prisoner of Manshoon, the Zhentarim leader. He was the
one that had first discovered the prophecy. He’d appointed the two men,
named Von Fedel and Blondung, to guard Soggrin. I guess they must’ve not
done a great job for Xred was able to capture not only Soggrin, but the
two guards as well. Both men were powerful spell casters, as we later
found out. As Zhentarim, the two were not to be trusted, but unlike Von
Fedel, Blondung has proven time and time again that he has earned the
right to not be seen as a Zhentarim anymore. He escaped the orcish village
together with us and has been a good ally ever since. Even Soggrin, who
harbored feelings of pure hatred towards both Zhentarim men, seems to
have changed her opinion on Blondung.
Blondung was the one to warn us that Ceely was in danger. He’d seen her
non-human heritage, spotting her somewhat elven features and told us that
if any of the orcs would find out, they might very well just kill her,
because Xred had no use for a non-human slave, as the Schoelweed would
be useless when ground by anyone but a human.
The other Zhentarim, Von Fedel, proved himself somewhat of a lunatic,
his words confusing even the brightest in our group. Now I know him to
be a necromancer, using foul magic to let dead beings do his bidding.
We discussed escape plans then, but we could not even come up with any
way to escape from the metal rod, let alone find a way to escape from
the hundreds of orcs that were guarding us. The fighters in our group
might be able to reach for some sort of weapon laying around, but the
spellcasters in our group would need to have access to their spellbooks.
And when Blondung told us that Xred was actually a powerful mage himself,
I knew that the ogre would have stashed our magical items and our spellbooks
into his private belongings. So we would have to somehow gain access into
the tower, retrieve our belongings and then escape the wrath of Xred and
his orc followers. I quickly gave up on any hopes for escape.
The Zhentarim men did mention that Agatha, the ghost we’d heard Lise
talk about just before he died, haunted in just that part of the Neverwinter
Woods where the Schoelweed grew. Von Fedel seemed convinced that the banshee
would one day be fed up with the orcish presence in her domain, and attack
the settlement. Later on, Von Fedel’s prediction turned out to be correct
and he actually saved our lives by giving us the tools to resist Agatha’s
fatal attack on the village.
I can’t say I believed Von Fedel’s words until the attack actually happened.
When we were still trying to think of any means of escape, I finally reached
for my trusted puppet, wanting to push away the bad thoughts that were
haunting me.
We were fed then, each of us being handed a wooden bowl with some warm
stew in it. Two female orcs gave us the bowls, four male guards watching
us closely, while four more were located just outside the cave. The metal
rod was removed, and were allowed to stand up. Milo made use of the situation,
throwing the gruel at the orc guards inside the cave. His plan worked,
as the stew blinded three of them for a moment, enough to give Milo a
chance to wrestle a spear away from one of them. The fourth orc had been
fiddling with Soggrin’s lock, but now cried an alarm. The female orcs
were shocked and seemed frozen.
From this point on, everything seemed to happen all at once. All of us
came into action, throwing anything we could get our hands on towards
the orc guards. I think I saw Ceely literally knocking one of the guards
out cold, slamming him into the wall. As I lack physical power, I tried
to use my wits to help out. I took my puppet and tried to intimidate the
orcs with some nonsense words, hoping to let the story of the curse I
had told them earlier put fright into their hearts. I yelled at the top
of my lungs, using my Ventriloquism skill to make the sounds appear to
come from the puppet’s mouth. It didn’t really seem to have much effect,
but our party was driving the orcs out of the cave, giving us a slight
chance of escape.
I heard a lot of noise though coming from just outside the cave. Obviously,
our little escape attempt had not gone unnoticed. The orcs in the village
were starting to come towards the cave! Several of our orc guards lay
on the ground by now, either dead or unconscious. We had reached the exit,
but were greeted by a large crowd of orcs. There were simply too many
to even attempt to fight our way through.
Desperately, I clung to my puppet and suddenly an idea came to me. Holding
the wooden puppet high in the air, I spoke of a vision that my puppet
supposedly had had. Milo, who knew how to speak orcish, translated my
words to the orcs. The vision spoke of an impending doom that was to befall
the village. I made up a story of how Agatha’s presence had been felt
by the puppet, and how we had tried to escape from the cave only to warn
the orcs of the fact that soon she would attack and destroy them. I told
the orcs that the puppet would help them withstand Agatha’s fury if given
a chance. Milo then spoke some words to me, orcish words, with I then
repeated loudly through my puppet, hoping to convince the orcs in their
own language.
The plan seemed to be working. Several of the orcs were talking amongst
themselves. If only enough of them believed the charade, perhaps they
would convince the others to release us.
But then, Xred himself came out of his tower, visibly annoyed. I guess
some of the orcs had come to him, telling him about my puppet. He demanded
to see the puppet, and Milo did his best to convince the ogre mage of
our good will. I then put up what was probably my most important show
ever, talking to Xred through my puppet, desperately trying to make him
believe that life coursed through my wooden friend. I have to admit that
I was becoming more and more convinced that I had reached a new level
of skill in my puppet-play and that I was starting to believe that I would
actually be able to fool the big ogre. But no, Xred didn’t buy in to my
act for a moment. He quickly caught on, revealing to the orcs the fact
that it was not the puppet that was speaking, but merely the skinny human
holding it. ‘You’re just speaking without your lips moving.’ His words
still resonate in my mind. My failure to convince Xred might mean my life
was at an end. Worse, it could’ve meant the end of all my friend’s lives
as well.
Luckily, all Xred requested was for me to follow him to his tower. I
reluctantly followed, some of the orcs pushing me along. I’m not sure
what happened to my friends at that point, but I assume they were taken
to work on the treadmills right away, for when I was finally allowed to
leave Xred’s presence, that’s where I found them, struggling to make the
grindstones crush the Schoelweed. Xred had other plans for me though.
He took me into the tower and introduced me to one of his own puppet’s:
an undead zombie. I was quite shocked at seeing something that was supposed
to be dead, being used by a power hungry spellcaster, made to dance like
a puppet on strings. I don’t know how long Xred kept me with him, forcing
me to be an audience to his macabre show. I do know that I was glad to
leave, once Xred’s interest in me seemed to disappear. Sure, once outside,
I was forced to join my friends on the treadmills, but it was a pleasant
punishment compared to watching a zombie dance. I was mad. Mad at the
world for allowing something evil to exist. Mad at the Gods for creating
evil in the first place. But most of all, I was mad at Xred, for he had
taken away from me the one thing that I have treasured throughout my life:
my trusted companions Volo and Dolo. I swore that I would get my puppet
back, if it meant facing up to Xred or not. I would get my chance, sooner
or later... Or so I thought.
I can’t imagine what the bodies of my friends must’ve felt like, for
they had been working on the treadmill far longer than I had, but personally
I felt like I was about to die. Physically, I had never been weaker. When
we were finally told to stop and allowed to drink some water, I hoped
that we were done for the day. I figured that surely the orcs would realize
that physically we simply could not continue and that we would need some
rest. But no, after only a few short minutes, we were forced to get back
to work. Cleo started a song, but I didn’t have enough air in my lungs
to even make a sound. My mind was starting to falter, visions coming to
me in droves, haunting me, driving me insane. I saw the zombie, lose from
its strings, coming after me with a bloodlust in its dead eyes. I saw
Lise, a sword in his hand, stabbing at me, lunging at me. I saw Gaard,
a wicked smile showing through his beard. I saw many more things, things
too horrible to remember.
Finally then, we were led back to our cave. I had lost consciousness
hours before, my body responding merely to the rhythm of the treadmill,
my legs moving on their own. I remember waking up from my slumber soon
after, refreshing myself by splashing water in my face. I was tempted
to just go to sleep, but I feared an even worse day lay ahead at dawn,
so I decided to spend some time with my friends, conversing with them
about the past day and about what might come in the morning.
Agatha seemed to be our main topic, for subconsciously we all saw her
as our only hope now. If the banshee would attack the orcish village,
we might make use of the chaos and escape. Von Fedel kept mentioning that
he had some sort of secret plan, talking about a bag while tapping on
his chest.
I slept then, too tired to even dream.
Mirtul 30
The morning came too quick, my muscles still sore and my head ready to
explode. We were fed again, much like we were the day before. I didn’t
get a sense that the orcs had upped their security measures, but the female
orcs did not linger in the cave this time, preferring to leave while we
ate. Before we were completely finished with our meal, Milo suddenly started
to display signs of sickness. I knew he was faking it, but have to admit
that I got concerned about my dear friend. His performance was very convincing,
blood and puke running down his chin. One of the orcs ran off at this
point, apparently concerned for the well being of one of the human slaves.
No doubt Xred wanted us all to be healthy, ready to grind more Schoelweed.
Milo was left behind as the rest of us were led out of the cave, back
to the treadmills. I saw the orc that seemed to be Xred’s favorite, the
one that I considered second-in-command, lead Milo to his hut. Grazzght,
for that was the orc’s name, was some sort of a healer, but I was worried
about what might be done to Milo. While my legs kept turning the treadmill,
my eyes were focused on the hut. I saw a female orc running up and down,
probably running errands for the orc healer.
The end was in sight. The bags of raw Schoelweed were now down to just
two. A few more hours and there would be no more weed to grind. My legs
approved of this prospect, but my mind wasn’t all too sure that it was
really a good thing. What would Xred do with us once he had no more use
for us?
Before we were able to grind these last two bags of Schoelweed, Xred
made another appearance, pushing us on, telling us to work even faster.
The looks he cast at Soggrin told me everything I didn’t want to know.
Xred was pleased at the progress, anxious to get the last bits of Schoelweed
ground, so he could mate with Soggrin.
Then, suddenly, Xred started to go berserk. "She isn’t human! She isn’t
human!" It only took me a moment to figure out why the ogre was so upset.
He had finally discovered the true nature of Ceely. She wasn’t fully human
indeed. I smiled inwardly, imagining the horror Xred had to feel at his
discovery. The Schoelweed, his precious Schoelweed, was useless now. It
had been tainted by an elvish presence.
Xred’s anger erupted as he lashed out at a nearby orc, sending him flying.
I think the orc was dead before he ever hit the ground, so hard did the
ogre hit him. Xred barked out some orders and soon multiple orcs rushed
towards Ceely, taking her away from the treadmill and thrown in front
of the ogre’s feet. Xred pointed a staff at Ceely, a staff he seemed to
always carry with him. Fire erupted from its tip and I prayed to the Gods
then, asking them to be kind to Ceely and to let her die without pain.
Perhaps the Gods heard my prayer, because at the last instant Xred aimed
the staff at the pile of completed sacks of ground grain instead, releasing
the fireball. The explosion nearly knocked me off my feet!
Angrily, Xred yelled at us that we would have to work longer and harder
to make up for the lost time. The ogre then called Grazzght, issuing orders
to the orc. I thought we would be forced back onto the treadmill again,
but before that happened one of Xred’s minions spoke up, making him aware
of the fact that there was only one sack of raw Schoelweed left. I expected
to see this orc suffer a quick and painless death, but Xred seemed to
gather his emotions just in time. He rambled something about Manshoon
not flying his Agatha that day, then set off with a large group of orcs,
marching into the forest. We were ordered to finish that last sack of
Schoelweed before nightfall, a task which I gladly accepted, using every
bit of energy I had left in me, knowing that once this sack was done we
would get some rest. I knew I’d need my sleep, for Xred would return with
more Schoelweed and in the morning we’d probably be forced to work ourselves
to near death.
While grinding the last bag of weed, I realized that if there was ever
a time to try and convince the orcs to release us, it was now. Xred was
no longer among them, so perhaps I could play into the fear I’d awoken
in their hearts with my earlier puppet play. I remembered telling them
something about a raven swooping down from the skies to signal Agatha’s
arrival. Now, tied to the treadmill with chains, I let my body drop to
the floor, shouting the orcish words Milo had taught me earlier. I have
to admit that I’ve forgotten the exact words, but they spoke of a raven,
a blood red raven.
I remained on the ground, still, pretending to be unconscious. A whip
cracked above my head, trying to get us moving again. Telling Milo to
distract the orcs, I decided to use my last remaining power: a magical
spell. I lifted my head and looked up at the sky and started chanting.
I was lucky that this spell did not need any material components to cast,
for all my spell ingredients were taken from me along with the rest of
my possessions. The spell I cast was an illusion that could create an
image of a small animal. A seemingly weak spell, that I’ve used often
during my life as an adventurer. I can even create sounds with this spell,
making it possible to really scare my audience, which was exactly what
I wanted to achieve. I wanted to scare the orcs. The animal I created
of course was a red raven, swooping down from the skies, cawing loudly.
I let it come down slowly, in wide circles, giving the orcs time to let
fear drip into their hearts. Finally, I let the raven hover right over
the head of the orc that had tried to whip us into action only moments
before. I let it open its beak wide, cawing loudly, making an unnatural
sound that sounded a lot like "Agatha". Ha, the orc dropped his whip and
cowered in fear. Others fell completely silent, merely pointing at the
raven. Still others ran away to their huts. "Agatha" the raven cawed again,
this time flying off towards the forest. I’d told the orcs that Agatha
would appear from the direction the raven would disappear.
To my dismay, I saw Grazzght come out of his hut at this very moment,
rushing towards us, immediately taking control of the situation. I could
hear orcs arguing about what had happened, even though I didn’t understand
their exact words. I was hoping the orcs who had witnessed the arrival
and departure of the raven would convince Grazzght that Agatha was indeed
coming. But my slim hopes disappeared as I heard Grazzght start issuing
orders to the orcs around him. We were freed from the treadmills, but
instead of being released, we were taken straight back to the cave. "Rest
now," we were told and that is exactly what we did. My latest attempt
had proven futile even with Xred absent. I think this is when I gave up
hope completely. Nothing worked, we were guarded by hundreds of orcs.
And a crazy ogre mage was slowly killing us, having us grind weed so that
he may fulfill some silly prophecy. I prayed to the Gods then, asking
them for salvation.
The Gods must’ve not heard me, for at dusk Xred returned, several bags
full of Schoelweed being carried by his orc escort. That was it. Tomorrow,
I might die on a treadmill, my body simply too exhausted to keep on living.
It took me quite some strength to not just start crying then and there.
I didn’t want to admit to the rest of the group that I was scared, even
though I knew some of them must’ve felt the same way. We were all young,
inexperienced. None of us were expecting what would happen next. Well,
except for Von Fedel.