Chapter 109 (Patreon)

Chapter 109

The story Athela had put a large damper on the mood, and Riven was unsure of what to think regarding the orcs and their situation.  On one hand they’d killed and eaten many humans and elves in the area alike, apparently admitting raiding surrounding towns or villages that’d popped up after the integration and leaving them as husks of what they once were.  On the other hand, the orcs had claimed that they weren’t entirely at fault here - of which he was about to try and find out.

The orc chieftain stood in front of his village gates with a dozen muscular orc warriors behind him, including the two elites of his village that had been in the room with Athela upon her initial talk.  There were also thirty or so dagger-wielding goblins picking their noses, cackling to one another, or grumbling about being out this late.  Orc women, elderly, and children stood up on the palisade platforms that’d been erected at intervals on the opposite side - some of them nervously holding bows while others simply stared.

On the opposite side and coming in from the darkness was Riven, and he was accompanied by their elf scout - Ren.  His three demons and Dr. Brass were all there too, standing on the perimeter just where the torchlight from the village walls was barely able to reach.  It was enough to give the orcs the impression that there were indeed others out there, but that there also may be more further back.

While Riven walked side by side with Ren, the orc chieftain and his two elites came out to meet them at a halfway point between the two groups.  Ren was obviously nervous by the way his heart rate picked up, but that in turn was matched by many of the greenskins across from where Riven stopped 50 yards from the walls.  It was a very, very tense situation - and the orc leaders stopped about ten paces away to keep a healthy distance while being close enough to comfortably talk.

“I’ve heard there are more of you.” The chieftain said after surveying the others at the edge of the firelight - nodding to Athela in particular where her red eyes were easier to make out than the others.  “For your sake, I hope your familiar wasn’t lying.”

The two elites beside the chieftain looked uncomfortable, but tried to not let it show.  However their heartbeats escalated and betrayed their true emotions on the situation, even if they looked rather intimidating and fearsome up close.

Riven planted his staff into the ground, allowing ‘Vampire’s Escort’ to stand off its own power.  Then he cocked his head to the side, evaluating each of the larger green men in front of him, and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cloak.  “Athela said you wanted to talk.”

“To talk with you, blood sucker.” The orc with hooped earrings and the warhammer snarled, growling at the silver-haired elf beside Riven.  “Not with the pointy-ears.  They have done us nothing but harm for centuries when we wanted to only live in peace.  They drive us from our lands, hunt our kind to the ends of the earth, and then act like it is they who are persecuted.  Why is the elfling here?”

Ren flushed angrily at the accusation and his jaw clenched, but he was visibly shaking and couldn’t utter a response.  It’d taken all his bravery just to come out here, let alone speak to the orcs.

“I see.”  Riven glanced at Ren, then turned his gaze back to the orc who’d addressed him.  “That, specifically, is why I’m even standing here talking to you.  You claim that you were attacked first and only responded in kind?”

The snarling orc hesitated, but nodded as the other two orcs joined him in unison.

“What about the humans Athela saw?  Their heads decorate your feast at the fighting pits.  Do they not?”

The orc chief coughed out a laugh from underneath his wooden tribal mask, and nodded while planting his own cobra staff into the ground beside him.  “They do.  Our people are a war-faring people, I openly admit it.  However we are not the cold blooded killers you seem to believe us to be… we merely defend ourselves and actively attack those who have done us harm first.  Which brings me to the same question that my comrade brought up - if you’re not in league with the elves and merely using them for food, why is one of them guiding you to us?”

“Does it matter?” Riven casually shrugged, indifference written in his face as he removed the runic mask covering his nose and mouth.  He let on a toothy smile to display his fangs and pocketed the mask in turn.  “Truth be told I will be feeding on some of them, but they chose to do so willingly for my help.  What’s your name, by the way?  If we are going to be speaking, I’d rather not just think of you as ‘meat.’”

The chieftain snorted with amusement and removed his own mask, revealing a bald man with a heavily scarred face; where it looked like some kind of clawed creature had scratched him repeatedly.  Whatever had attacked the orc had even taking off a portion of the tusked green man’s upper lip in the process - giving Riven the impression that the chieftain was always snarling.

“So the elves pay for their protection with blood of their own.  I suppose it does make sense.  My name is Gurth’Rok, Chieftain of the Yellow Skull Tribe.  Who are you, vampire?”

“Riven.  My name is Riven Thane, and I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you but these are rather dire circumstances, and I’m not sure if we’re all going to come out of this meeting alive or not.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” Chieftain Gurth’Rok replied with a grimace.  “What is it that you want from us?  We have suffered many casualties already and only wish to be left alone.”

“Well that is all very good, but you actively attacked a village under my protection.  I can’t have you randomly slaughtering people in our claimed lands.  And I’m not just talking about the elves in Greenstalk Village.”  Riven continued to up-play the card Athela had already cast concerning the coven’s feeding grounds, and in some ways he wasn’t lying.  Allie’s forces were less than a week away, though they weren’t really a ‘coven.’

“Do you wish us to lay down and die then?  Because that is what you are asking us to do.  To have us lay down and die when the enemies come charging at our gates.  We have only ever defended ourselves, never have we been the aggressors since arriving here in this newly merged world.”  The chieftain angrily snarled in frustration and waved a hand in front of his face as if to gesture to the surrounding lands.  “There are too many enemies and too few allies for us to so blatantly go raiding.  Yes, we have killed many of the humans here that sought to kill us first.  We burned their homes, butchered them and used them for food.  My people are starving, and though we usually don’t feed on humans and elves so frequently I will not have my people suffer hunger if we have the bodies of our enemies to feast upon.  The attacks on our people came first, and we responded in force each time.  We have lost the great majority of our warriors, once numbering at eight hundred orcs and over a thousand goblin servants.  We have been reduced to what you see here now after the many dozens of small battles across the frontier.  Surely as a vampire you can empathize with us for the persecution you’ve endured yourself!  Your kind is hated even more than my own by the races that call themselves ‘enlightened,’ so it should not be a surprise to you that the elves of your claimed village struck at us first.”

Riven considered the orc’s words and slowly turned his gaze to the elf beside him.  “What do you have to say about that, Ren?”

Ren’s mild shaking had stopped, but he'd calmed his nerves despite being in such close proximity to creatures he and his people had warred against in a blood feud for countless generations.  He stared up at the larger chieftain for a good amount of time, but eventually grimaced and nodded.  “We struck first, it is true.”

“The elf does not see himself fit to lie!  That is a welcome surprise!”  The armored orc laughed, and even the chieftain seemed a bit taken aback by the admission of guilt.

“We saw them searching the forest for food and panicked.” Ren stated solemnly, casting a glance at the muscular orc in the iron platemail.  “It was weeks ago.  They’ve been at war with us for so long now that it’s usually shoot on sight and forgo questions.  We’ve tried negotiating with greenskins before and it always ends in failure and our throats slit, so of course we attacked first.”

“The same could be said on our end.” Chieftain Gurth’Rok growled, but his appraising look of the elf did not exhibit hostility.  “Though I want to thank you for your honesty, elfling.  Perhaps if your people had tried speaking to us first before slaughtering our hunters this could have all been resolved.  Are we not all strangers to this new world?  These lands are alien, a tapestry redrawn in the eyes of the system, and we know not what awaits us beyond the plains.  I had hoped to gain allies in my first days upon coming here so that we may trade and flourish like we had in the badlands of our ancestral home, but this…”

Gurth’Rok gestured back towards their village.  “It has been nothing but death and misery for all of us.  The fighting pits your demon saw, vampire?  That is a way to quell our numbers so the rest of us do not starve.  It may have looked like a feast to you, but not in the past 20 years have we resorted to eating enlightened races until now.  We are completely out of food and have nothing else, and we do not know how we will get more because we are constantly harassed by scouting parties sent from your elf village.  Most of our hunters never return, and the woodlands were our best shot at finding more to eat.  We had to act by striking at the elf village the same way we did with the humans who previously tried their hand.  Yet here we are, reduced to almost nothing, with many of our best warriors being slaughtered upon our attempt to save ourselves.”

Riven didn’t know what to think about all this new information.  At first he hadn’t necessarily believed what he’d heard from Athela, but upon Ren’s admission he could only stare blankly at the ground in front of his feet.  He felt guilty, guilty for slaughtering dozens of these orcs and goblins with his minions when they’d merely been trying to survive.  He knew that if he hadn’t acted the elves would certainly have died, but it seemed to him that they’d merely assumed the orcs were a threat and acted without trying to resolve things peacefully.  It’d blown up in their faces in a big way, and they’d almost been completely wiped out for it.

“Do you believe us now?” Gurth’Rok asked with a tinge of hope in his voice.  “I am no coward, and I am not afraid to die in battle.  I even believe I have a chance to win if a battle does occur, but perhaps that is my pride speaking.  Regardless, I do fear what would happen to my people if they don’t have me to lead them anymore.  Surely even as a vampire you must have some empathy within you, as you otherwise wouldn’t be speaking about who started the conflict to begin with.  Do you see the women and children standing out there, watching us talk?  All the old men that can no longer fight and rely on me for support?”

The chieftain raised his staff and pointed towards the wall, towards the hundreds of non-combatant orc villagers who fearfully watched the proceedings at a distance.  He turned back to Riven with a wary shake of his head.  “They will not live through the next winter if I pass.  It is very likely that they will all be killed here and now if these negotiations fall through, and they know it.”

Riven shook his head and drew his hands out of his pockets to fold his arms across his chest.  “No… No I wouldn’t do that.  I had no intention of killing the women and children.”

Gurth’rok’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Truly?”

“Truly.  I only came here to eliminate the threat to Greenstalk.  That meant either killing anyone who could pose a threat, or driving you from these lands.  It didn’t mean slaughtering kids.”

Gurth’Rok’s mouth opened slightly in astonishment, taking Riven’s words at face value.  “You are not a normal vampire.  Are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes.”  Gurth’Rok motioned to Riven’s glowing red pupils.  “They are brighter than most vampires I have seen in the past.  You are different.  Are you a different breed of vampire?  Are there different breeds?”

“... No, I don't think there are different breeds.”

“I see.  Well you certainly act differently.  I was surprised your familiar even allowed negotiations at all.  It’d been a slim hope at best, but when you began questioning us on who began the conflict to begin with I became thoroughly convinced that you are unusual.  Most of your kind would not care.  They would not care about who started the fight, they would not care about orc children, and they would not care enough to lie about why they chose to help a group of weak and relatively defenseless elves.”

The chieftain smiled, and Riven had to laugh at the outright accusation.

“Fine.” Riven stated with a grin.  “It wasn’t necessarily a lie, I really am going to feed on one of the elves that has agreed to it, but you’re mostly right.  I helped because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

The orc with the hoop earrings and the warhammer immediately gawked, and the other warrior in iron platemale guffawed loudly and turned with his hands on his head.

“Never did I think I’d see the day.” The heavily armored warrior said as he turned to walk away.  “Now that negotiations seem to be improving, I’m going to go grab a drink.  I think I’ll need it.  You ok with that chief?”

Gurth’Rok let out a laugh and waved his companion away, turning back to Riven with a slight but reserved smile.  “So… a vampire with morals.  That’s a new one for the history books.  Where do we go from here?  If you wish us to leave these lands, we will do so.  I do not wish to lose any more of my people.  However, if you let us stay and allow us to hunt for meat in the forest and grow our crops in peace - I can promise you that we will put this conflict behind us.  We have come prepared with tribute to help sway your mind on this matter, and if it settles the conflict between our people and the village of elves further into the northwest I will prepare a gift for them too.”

The orc with the warhammer stepped forward, producing a scroll from a pouch at his side.  He handed it to Riven and stepped back, allowing Riven to unfurl it and get a better look at the document.

“It already has identification information attached to it by one of our village identifiers.” Chieftan Gurth’Rok said slowly with hope riding along his words.  “It may not be worth much to you because you’re affiliated with the unholy pillar, but it is still a valuable gift and was handcrafted by one of the elderly shamans we still have with us.  You may exchange or sell it to someone else who can use it for a great deal of money, of that I have no doubt.”

[Spell Scroll: Nature’s Winds (Forest) (Tier 2) – Select a target and deliver a small dose of healing potential in the form of a soft forest breeze, sealing the target’s wounds and restoring HP.  This spell also imbues an after-effect of residual healing over time if the spell has leftover energy, and thus can be used as a buff prior to battle. This spell can be stacked up to 5 times, with each additional stack beyond the first stack giving a minor boost to running speed.  This spell does not rid targets of disease or debuffs.  Very long range, short cooldown, short casting time, low mana cost.]

Riven’s eyes took in the sight before him.  The actual parchment that wasn’t identification information was written in a language that he couldn’t read, but the markings were nevertheless tediously crafted and beautiful to look at.  The system message was more than enough to tell him what he needed to know about it too, so he didn’t have any doubts about what it really was.

Meanwhile the chieftain uncertainly eyed Riven’s expression, trying to read whether or not the gift was enough to appease the vampire.  “The shaman who created this scroll took nearly two years to do it, but he is very skilled and was actually the master who taught me my own trade.  Most people take years to learn this kind of advanced magic, but with this scroll a person may learn it within a day as long as they have a high enough affinity.”

The chieftain’s worries were quenched when Riven put on a bright smile.

“I think this is more than enough.” Riven stated while pocketing the scroll and turning to Ren.  “If the orcs stay, are your people in Greenstalk willing to listen to me when I tell them to leave the orcs alone?”

Ren hesitated, shot the chieftain an uncertain look, yet he slowly shook his head.  “No… I do not believe so.  That was not part of our deal, Riven.  Ethel will not be handed to you as a thrall unless you force them to leave these lands.  We will not be safe until they are gone.  That is not negotiable, as heard from the mouth of Elder Bren himself.”

Riven’s eyes narrowed slightly and his grip around the scroll tightened.  “Without me, none of you would even be alive right now.”

Ren gave him an apologetic shrug.  “It is not my order, I am sorry.  A deal is a deal.”

The two men stared at one another, and the orc chieftain curiously evaluated the brief exchange with a grimace.  “I find it odd that they would not be accommodating to the one that saved all their lives, and even moreso that they demand things of someone stronger.  Riven, are you sure that you trust these people?”

Riven broke of his glare towards Ren with a sideways glance at the chieftain.  “Yes.  Why?”

“Because although you may be different, these elves are likely not.”  The large orc gestured to Ren, who scowled fiercely back at the orc but remained tight-lipped on the subject.  “This elfling and his people are probably like all the others.  They are likely using you to their own ends.”

Ren let out a snort of derision, but that was the only reply the chieftain got.

There was a long, awkward silence after that, and then Riven’s thoughts drifted back to Ethel and her family.  To Len and Genua, who he hadn’t known very well but had developed a keen liking for.  He shook his head and gripped the staff to his left.  “I trust them, and I made them a promise.  Take your people, orc, and leave these lands.  I will not kill you, but I will not permit you to stay here either.”

Ren nodded.  “Good.”

Gurth’Rok remained silent for a time, scrutinizing the elf with a deep frown, but in time nodded too and gave a gracious bow.  “Very well.  I will do as you ask, Riven Thane.  I appreciate your mercy and the chance to leave this place without bloodshed.  We will find somewhere else to live, so that these elf friends of yours may find peace.  My people will understand and thank you for what you have agreed to this day, for the freedom of passage you have granted us.  Perhaps one day we will meet again as friends, rather than as opponents.”

With a conflicted smile, Riven held out a hand to shake.  “Good luck with your rebuilding, and I wish you the best.”

“And I wish the same to you.  It was nice meeting you, Riven Thane.  More than you know.  May the gods watch over the path you tread on, and may the winds ever be in your favor.”

***

Back in Greenstalk Village, Farrod closed the door to Elder Preen’s home with a click.  Turning he saw the old man sitting at his dining room table, sipping on tea and going over plans with Elder Bren on what would happen should Riven come back successful - or should he die instead.

“A brilliant plan.  Either way we win out.” Farrod stated simply, kicking his legs out and nodding to Elder Preen who smiled savagely while his first wife fetched a pot of hot water.  “Are they coming now?”

“They are.” Elder Preen stated matter-of-factly.  “They’ll be here soon.  Given recent events I’d say they’re rather excited to exact justice.  Has Riven caught on at all yet?  Any inkling of an idea?”

Farrod shrugged.

“Surely you’ve checked on things?”  Elder Preen gave the other man a skeptical, down-the-nose look.

Genua’s husband rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “Not much, you old fool.  We have to keep up appearances remember?  Rather intricate but appropriate for the situation.  This entire thing feels disgusting to me… I just want it to be over with so we can go back to our normal lives.”

Elder Bren gave the middle-aged man a scolding look.  “You know we have to do this to keep the village safe, Farrod.  We don’t have much of a choice, given our current circumstances.  I’m sorry it was you that had to take the fall, but what’s done is done.  There is no turning back now.”