A Soldier's Life - 280 - Fake It Till You Make It (Patreon)

Chapter 280: Fake It Till You Make It

Khoura was a sprawling city nestled among crop fields being cultivated for planting. The outer walls were stone, but most of the buildings were made of wood. It almost felt like we were in an alien world with nearly every citizen being an orc. Orc skin was mostly tones of gray, but there were occasional orcs with shades of greenish or reddish tint.

I caught Maveith’s attention from his focus on the goliaths carrying a carriage. “Now is not the time, we are here for your sister, not to free every goliath in the Caliphate.”

Maveith ground his teeth, “It is not right. Too many goliaths have been taken by the orc slavers over the years.”

Raelia offered unhelpfully, “It is because the warlords see controlling larger men as a sign of their power.”

Before things could degrade too far, I moved us away from the merchant wagons. “Let’s go see about registering our guild medallions in the Caliphate.” I took the reins of Ginger and led my companions down the street, looking for the guild emblem. The Adventurer’s Hall should be somewhere on the main road.

The city was very clean, and the citizens were well-dressed. The architecture was crude but sound, relying on large beams. Being a border city, I didn’t think we would draw much attention, but I was wrong. Curious orc eyes followed us as we led our mounts down the Main Street. Raelia’s mount released a load as he walked, and a young light-gray orc emerged from the alley nearby to clean the mess immediately. One thing the city lacked was orc guard patrols. I mentioned it to Raelia, “Where are city guards?”

Raelia lectured us in a scholarly tone that could be considered condescending. “There are none. Orcs do not commit crimes against one another. The warlords bicker amongst themselves like old human housewives, but citizens of the Caliphate believe their lives should serve to the best of their ability. It has made their craftsmen uninspired during their relatively short life span.”

Blaze asked curiously, “How long do orcs live?”

Raelia considered the question, searching her memory. “The warlords and elite warriors consider it an honor to fall in battle. When their skills start to fade, they take on more and more dangerous assignments. Fifty summers are considered a long life for them. The Boutan clerics live twice that, and the citizens are somewhere in between the two. Now, I admit that I am not an expert, and I learned all of that from lessons from my aunt.”

“I thought that was why we brought you along? Because you were an expert,” I asked with an amused glance at Raelia. She didn’t respond and looked annoyed. I could tell she was already stressed with all the eyes on Baldo, who was sitting majestically in his pillion seat on Stormcloud. I think the griffin liked the attention.

We soon found the guild symbol on a sign over a building that looked more like an inn than an Adventurer’s Hall. The teenage orc stable hand did not speak Telhian or Elvish, and we had to rely on Raelia to converse with him. After a lengthy back-and-forth, it was two coppers a day for each mount and an extra copper if we wanted grain mixed with the hay.

I decided to pay three days in advance. I gave the young orc a silver, which included a tip of 28 coppers. Raelia relayed my expectations to change the water in the stalls three times a day for each horse and only give them the best straw and grain. I knew from Lucien that if sand got mixed into the straw, it could cause problems in the future that would require a healer. With our mounts stabled, we headed into the Hall from the rear entrance.

As we entered, the air was full of sickly-sweet smoke, and dozens of tables were occupied. The smoke was coming from some type of hookah at the tables. A long bar had a few orcs seated at it. The standard assignment posting board was on a far wall, with a few orc adventurers walking the length of it.

Surprisingly, we did not draw much attention until Baldo chirped loudly and hissed. A server had stepped too close to Raelia, and Baldo was warning the young orc away. A dozen heads turned our way to study our group and the griffin. Under the hard gazes, Baldo puffed up to appear bigger, but after traveling with him for three weeks, I knew he was afraid.

Ignoring the attention, I headed for the clerk’s desk, my group following. A gray-haired orc was reviewing some paperwork and looked up, mildly annoyed. “We are here to register our Guild Medallions to work within the Caliphate. Six rooms for two nights if available,” I spoke in Elvish, and he pursed his lips, his short tusks showing.

“How many and where will you be traveling?” He asked in rough Elvish, but his sharp eyes were examining my group. He was clearly eyeing our weapons and making a judgment of our skill. Our runic weapons were disguised as best as we could. Only Benito stood lazily in our party, trying to make out a card game being played by a halfling, two orcs, and a human.

“We will be looking over the job posting board, but we hope to delve into The Vault of the Spirit Arachnid and The Whispering Grotto.” He looked surprised a the dungeons I had mentioned.

“That is quite the trek,” he said, focusing on me suspiciously.

My talk with the orc healer had been very productive. The Vault of the Spirit Arachnid was in the middle of the Boutan Caliphate, and The Whispering Grotto was on the northern coast, not far from the Warlord that had purchased Maveith’s sister Zorana. “We have a contract with an arcane weaver who wants the ethereal silk from the Spirit Arachnid and an alchemist who wants troll blood from The Whispering Grotto.”

“The blood is only viable for a few days after harvest,” he challenged.

“A member of my party has a small dimensional space,” I replied. He slowly nodded, accepting my explanation.

“Medallions,” he requested. I was the first to hand mine over. His eyes were briefly shocked by the silver coating, and then he noticed my number. “Thirteen?” He said, annoyed. “Your membership originated in the Telhian Empire?” My guild number was 13-393919. The 13 indicated which Adventurer’s Hall I became a member—while the second number was my membership number at that location.

“Is that going to be a problem?” I asked flatly.

He tapped his quill on his ink pot. “No,” he said curtly, but I could tell it was an issue for him.

He wrote down my information. I informed him, as he handed me the medallion back, “I am only registered in Telha. I am from Tsinga. I have no loyalty to the Empire.”

A little more helpful, the clerk offered advice, “There is a backlog for entry into the dungeons you are interested in—three weeks or more. You could sign up for the queue here if you wish. One gold for each dungeon.”

“What if I miss my delve date?” I asked suspiciously.

He waved his hand dismissively, “You are just placed at the end of the queue. Miss ten dates, and then you relinquish your fee.”

After witnessing his hesitant reaction to my origin from the Empire, I couldn't shake off the suspicion about his true intentions. However, considering he was a Guild clerk and expected to assist, I reluctantly handed over two gold coins to maintain a facade. I had informed my companions that our intention was not to explore the dungeon but merely to pass through the city. Retrieving the gold coins from my pouch, I placed them on the table. Following some additional paperwork, I received two bronze tokens imprinted with orcish symbols. A message sending would be sent in the morning to log the tokens into the dungeon queues.

Everyone was anxious with how long I had taken to register. Fortunately, the rest of my group’s medallions were all registered in Esenhem, and the clerk proceeded quickly to log them. There was a ten percent kingdom tax on all jobs completed, but other than that, we were now allowed to review the job board.

I paid for six rooms, each silver, but it included breakfast. Each room had two beds, but I thought we could all use a little privacy after that long trip. The good news was Baldo was allowed in the Hall and the rooms here. In fact, two large war dogs were lying down in the corner of the room behind a large tattooed orc in leather armor who was drinking and talking with others. The dog’s eyes were following Baldo.

I asked my companions to settle into their rooms and rest while I reviewed the jobs board. That quickly failed, as the postings were all in orcish. I found Raelia and she locked Baldo in her room and returned to the board with me. “What are we looking for?” She asked. I could see she was struggling with writing as well but was not going to admit it.

“Anything that takes our path toward the center of the Caliphate and Spirit Arachnid Dungeon.” I said it loud enough for others to hear as it was not a secret after talking to the clerk. Raelia studied each slip for minutes as she struggled to read it.

“This one is a monster subjugation job.” She slowly read it, “Village of Vormaz, ankhegs nesting near the fields.” We walked to a large map at the end of the postings and found the village more north east than northwest like I wanted. We started to go through other possible jobs one at a time.

Locate a bull in the wild.

Find and eliminate green goblins raiding a chicken egg farm.

Basilisk eggs for an alchemist.

Sword trainer for twin sons of a merchant in Khedeilal.

This last one was a possibility because it was a hundred miles east of Grila, where the Spirit Arachnid Dungeon was located. The problem was that the tenure for the instruction was thirty days and was subject to renewal. We got two postings that were merchant escorts, but I didn’t want to take any of them. We could make twice the distance on the road without being slowed by a merchant.

“Any delivery jobs? The Caliphate doesn’t have a portal network, so there has to be a lot of transportation jobs.” I asked Raelia, whose eyes were strained and heavy from translating.

“I think the merchant’s caravans handle those,” Raelia replied tiredly. “This one requires a silver adventurer,” she tapped a paper as she continued to read it. “I don’t think it suits us, though. It is for an earth mage to search what they believe is an ancient battlefield. The orc cleric is looking for artifacts to confirm her guess.”

“Where is it, and how much does it pay?” I asked unhesitantly.

“North of Adorechi—about fifteen miles. Twenty gold if successful in recovering artifacts; otherwise, one gold per day of searching, up to ten days.” Raelia said slowly. I took the posting and pulled it down to bring to the clerk. The city of Adorechi was about three hundred miles from here but not too far from the main trade road. More importantly, it was in the right direction.

“But we don’t have an earth mage!” Raelia, said, exasperated. “If we take a job we are not equipped to handle, we will be penalized by the guild.” I ignored her and walked to the clerk. Raelia followed me helplessly. The clerk looked at the posting and then at me. He already knew I was a silver adventurer and probably heard Raelia announce that we didn’t have the skills for the job. “A member of my group has the earth speak spell form,” I informed the skeptical clerk. Raelia looked a little shocked.

The orc chewed the inside of his cheek for a minute and sucked on his tusks. He slowly started the paperwork for us to enroll in the job. “You have eight days and a half days to report to Cleric Glasha in the city of Adorechi.” I nodded, as that was less than 40 miles a day and manageable on the main trade road. After the paperwork was completed, I headed back to our rooms with Raelia. “Tell the others we will leave mid-morning tomorrow. I would have liked to give them more of a rest from the saddle, but circumstances are not permitting it.”

“Who has earth speak among us?” She asked in a harsh whisper. “Maveith has a stone shape and isn’t capable of true spells.”

“I do,” I said, opening the door to my room and closing it behind me before Raelia could ask more questions. She was stunned in the hallway for a few minutes before I heard her head to her room, Baldo was clearly excited to see her return, clucking for attention.

This trip would take us a third of the way across the Caliphate and that much closer to the Warlord who had purchased Zorana. I decided to forgo looking for an orc guide among the adventurers in the hall in the morning. Raelia was somewhat suited to the task, and I didn’t want to risk having too many of my secrets exposed.

I didn’t use the amulet or sleep much that night as I was restless. There was a lot of unknown in front of us, and everyone was looking to me to be the confident rock, while underneath, I was just as uncertain as them. As the leader, my mistakes could get my friends killed and I was feeling more pressure now that we had entered the Caliphate. There was an old saying my music teacher used to say in high school—fake it till you make it.

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