Shaman's Call- Frost Burn Chapter 8 (Patreon)

Chapter 7-  Uggh… It’s What’s For Dinner

The village center wasn’t much to look at. There were four long huts, each more than two hundred feet long. In the center of them were two other buildings. One was the nicest of the buildings present. That wasn’t saying much. It had the head of what I took for a griffon hanging over the front entrance. None of the other buildings including Shemi’s hut had an actual door but this one at least had beads hanging down in the semblance of a door.

I took that to be the chief’s hut. The other building was larger but not as large as the four long buildings. It had haunches of various animals hanging from it and some very odd smells coming out of it. I could only assume that it was a smoke house or something but that was worrisome.

In the very center of all the buildings was a giant earthen pot. It had to be at least fifteen feet high and almost that wide across. The pot was sunk partially into the ground so that its top was only about six feet off the ground. As I got closer I noticed a couple of ogres feeding more wood down underneath and around the pot. This was apparently a cooking pot.

Shemi looked back at me one more time and put her finger to her lips. It was apparently a universal sign for me to be quiet. As I stopped and looked around I saw the largest ogre I had ever seen coming out of the chief's tent. He wore a headdress adorned with feathers and some bones. His chest was covered in a vest of leather and bone armor. The image he left was rather terrifying.

When he walked up next to the pot and shouted out I realized he was likely more than a foot taller than me so well over ten feet tall. “Chow time. Youz wantz to eat. Come nowz.”

Each of the four buildings erupted with a stream of ogres. Most of them wore some hodgepodge of leather armor, but there were a handful of smaller ones. The two that I had taken to be youths earlier at Shemi’s hut were amongst those smaller ones. I noticed that the smaller ones all came out of a single hut while the other three huts had larger ogres.

I would say that the average male ogre was a bit taller than me, likely somewhere between 9’8” and 10’ tall. The females were across the board about a foot shorter than the male counterparts. Although there was only maybe one female for every ten males. Also the males were bulkier but the females legs weren’t nearly as bowed as the males and they seemed to move with more agility. Certainly they were far from dancers but they still made the male ogres seem clumsy.

Multiple lines started to form to grab some stone bowls and there was no small amount of pushing and shoving. Obviously meal time was not one of harmony. Another massive ogre wearing one the first quality weapon I had seen amongst the ogres. It was an eight foot long sword with a blade that had to be a foot wide. I couldn’t imagine how heavy that must be.

Assess failed me when I tried to scan the two of them other than to tell me that one was Chief Kerkek and the other was Head Warrior Tulbat. Both were obviously ten levels above me and they gave off a red aura that told me fighting one of them would have been instant death.

Shemi called out in a screeching voice and a few of the ogres turned to look at her but most kept fighting to get their bowls or after that to get some of the stew from the pot to fill it. She called a second time and still most of the ogres ignored her. My assessment of them indicated that most of them were between level four and nine.

There were maybe thirty outcasts and more than two hundred bashers or brutes. The ones at level five or higher were mostly slashers or brawlers although there was smattering of other classes. Not a single one of the outcasts was above level four and none of them had a second class, well other than Shemi.

Apparently her patience had worn out because she shouted out Plague Cloud and made a waving gesture away from her hand. A black dust streaked out from her hand as her spell took shape and twenty or so of the ogres began to shriek and moan as boils appeared on their skin.

Her spell didn’t appear to actually be debilitating but it was incredibly impatient. Chief Kerkek shrieked and ran over. He knocked a couple of the affected ogres over and cried out, “Weaklings. You are unfit. No dinner for youz. Begone.”

Then he turned to Shemi, “What be meaning of this witch woman? Why you attacking tribe?”

Shemi didn’t back down even though he was close to three feet taller than her. She poked her finger in his chest. “They not listen. I must show them new ogre. I am shaman.” She said the last part like it was significant.

Kerkek glared at her but then backed up. He shouted, “Old woman right. She shaman. Youz must listen. Only chief and headwarrior higher.”

One of the warriors, a level eight ogre named, Silez, based on my Assess Skill pushed up and said. “Why we must listen. She old. She woman. She not warrior.”

Kerkek didn’t even look at the offending ogre but lashed out with a back hand that felled the brute in one hit. I definitely needed to be careful with this guy. If he could do that to a level nine then I’d be lucky to not have my head turned into jelly.

The chief then turned and looked down at the warrior laying on the ground. The ogre was clearly bleeding from a cracked skull but Kerket just spit down at him. “Ogre way. Strong rulez. But shamans serve tribe. Now she heal youz dumb head and show everyone why listen to her.”

Shemi didn’t seem pleased by what Kerkek had done and even less when he said that she would heal the downed ogre. There must be more in play here than I was privy too but I remained silent and watched. All the other ogres were doing much the same thing. Kerkek’s fury was clearly something they all wanted to avoid.

She raised her voice again, “Wez haz new ogre.” Then she pointed to me.

Not sure what to do I just grunted. It seemed like the right thing because no one said anything back. Shemi continued, “He be prentice now. Study magic. Make go boom. Youz touch him. Youz answer to me. And no healz for you.”

She started to walk over toward the food bowlz when Kerkek called out. “Youz no heal Silez.”

She bared her tusks and looked back at me, “Prentice heal fool.”

Apparently the rest of the tribe knew that me casting spells at first level was outside the norm. Many glared at me. It brought to mind the old adage that what people don’t understand they fear and what they fear they seek to destroy. Apparently the same applied to AI run ogres.

It took four castings of Regeneration to heal the wounded slasher to full health but I learned something valuable. I was able to stack castings of it on a single target. With the current duration of eight seconds and a cast time of two seconds, I could manage to get all four copies going at the same time, albeit only for two seconds. The revelation earned me a skill up to Basic 5.

Silez mumbled a begrudging thank you to me and walked off to join with those trying to get their stew. I didn’t care to fight through the jumble of sweaty ogre flesh so I was content to wait my turn. I noticed all the other outcasts were doing the same thing but didn’t really pay any heed to it. I had gotten another quest notification.

Where Do I Fit 1.0-

You have learned your intended place. You are here to make this ogre tribe stronger and thus more entertaining to the players. If you continue and become the tribe’s shaman then you will be able to even create new events.

Rewards: 250 XP, 10 silver, and you may either select to receive an item of uncommon quality suitable for your use or you may continue the quest line.

Hmm… that was interesting. Never saw that before. Of course I was going to continue the quest line. The 250 XP alone was worth nearly double what I got for an afternoon of nearly being killed by monsters. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to hunt monsters, but if I was being truthful, it hurt like hell. I sure wasn’t gonna be opposed to other ways to gain power.

Where Do I Fit 1.1-

You have found the starting place intended for you. This is good. It shows that you can be led to water and will even drink when told to. Good HI. Now you must decide if you are going to embrace this role.

Rewards: 300 XP, 10 silver, 1 item or masterwork or higher level or 2 of quality level or higher depending upon outcome.

Failure: Opportunities vary


Alternate Concurrent Quest: More Than One Way to Skin a Cat 1.0-

You may follow this quest as an alternative or you may try playing both sides and run it concurrently. Find a place outside of the tribe structure. Determine how you can be most valuable to the system while not being surrounded by ogres all day.

Rewards: 300 XP, 10 silver,  1 item of enchanted or higher level depending upon outcome.

Failure: Sewer rats are always needed.



Congrats! You now have enough XP to gain level two.

Do you wish to apply XP?


I rapidly chose no. I was gonna stay the course for a while longer. If I read these quests right though, the system wanted me to continue with the plan to join player parties but at the same time build up the ogre tribe. The problem with that was that if I started killing players I was gonna lose faction rating with them very quickly.

I had a feeling that I was missing something obvious. There had to be a way to enhance the tribe without actually involving myself in fighting the humans. About that time though my stomach was grumbling. A part of me wondered why the AI’s even made mobs eat or sleep but I guess it adds to the realism of the game.

By this time some of the outcasts were getting their bowls. I noticed that they were careful to stay out of the way of the larger melee class ogres so I took my cue from them. What I wasn’t willing to do though was cringe. Shemi had said showing kindness or weakness in the village would be a bad idea and the chief had reinforced that strength was the ogre way.

Once I saw the slop that passed for stew in my bowl, I realized that there was probably no need to have rushed. It was gonna be hard to get this amalgamation of meat, vegetables, fur, sticks, and dirt choked down. Maybe it wasn’t that bad but if it smelled bad to even my ogre nose, that was telling.

Worse, there were no utensils so that meant I was gonna just have to pour it into my mouth from the bowl like all the other ogres. I noticed that there was only one small outcast near the building that I suspected held the village’s food supply. Before there had been a pair of guards but they were eating with the rest so I walked over there.

I was hardly an expert cook. In the modern world most of our meals were made for us by machines and the opportunity to go to one of the novelty restaurants where a human chef cooked was something far beyond my budget. That didn’t mean though that I hadn’t watched some cooking shows. It is amazing what boredom would drive you too. Even without any culinary experience, I was sure that a few dozen episodes of cooking shows were enough to make me more experienced than any of these ogres.

When I reached the building the scrawny, by ogre standards, outcast stood in front of me, “Youz no go in here. This for cooking ogres.”

“You heard Mistress Shemi. I’m her apprentice. She says this food is disgusting and she wants me to try and make something better for her. Do you really want to make her angry?” I bluffed.

He stared at me for a moment but broke quickly. “Be quietz. You go inz. Tell no onez.”

Once inside it took me a good twenty minutes to make heads or tails of anything. There was no organization system and I was about to give up. They had poorly butchered meats sitting right next to piles of leaves. It was sheer chaos and of course refrigeration was a pipe dream.

In fact it was so bad that I was about to give up. I figured I could choke down this slime for a few days till I leveled up enough to go and look for a player party. Maybe it was thinking about players, but I found some gear and packs that looked to have come from humans. It was clearly the remains of a merchant caravan. There were pots, cooking implements, salt, pepper, and a number of other seasonings. Oh and coffee, sugar and a few other foodstuffs pushed in with bundles of cloth, scissors, rope, and other assorted goods.

They had no idea what this stuff was but had thrown it in here after destroying a merchant caravan. I wasn’t going to curse my good fortune. I certainly was no Gordon Ramsey like from the old shows, but I couldn’t me worse than the stew with these ingredients.

Now, I just needed some food to cook with these ingredients. I looked around and after another minute my eyes settled the caress of a boar that had been hung up to drain the blood out of it presumably. I wasn’t sure what they did with the blood that they collected in a stone pot underneath it.

Most of the skin had been removed from the creature but whoever had done it clearly didn’t have the same skill that Kittikork had. I pulledo out my belt knife and was going to start cutting away at the belly since if I remembered correctly that was where bacon came from.

Sadly, I got another notification saying that if I wanted to be any good at skinning or butchering then I had to spend the XP to gain the skill. I was given the option of skinning or butchering or skinning and butchering. I hated to use this for one of my two gathering skills, but I reasoned that if this was going to be the rest of my life, food was much more of a daily affair than making potions. Two hundred XP lighter, I now got the skinning/butchering combo skill and went to work on the boar.