Chapter 45: Meeting The Chief

The road to Ra’tlub is a simple one, a dirt path more the result of many treading feet than planned construction. As we walk upon it, I look to our guide, the guard from the village we had just left, and ask, “So Ra’tlub, this city your people have built, what is it like?”

He furrows his brow in concentration for a few moments. “Big chief said… Don’t tell outsiders about us. Can be… Dangerous, big chief said.”

“I understand.” I nod. “I guess we’ll just have to see for ourselves when we get there.”

“Yes,” he agrees, “Is much to see. Big city-” he claps his hand over his mouth. He speaks again, his voice muffled by his hand. “I stop talking now.”

We walk on in silence. It doesn’t take us more than an hour, maybe an hour an a half until we actually see the city. It’s much more impressive than the village, in many ways. It is, in a word, big. Bigger than most cities we have visited as of yet, although also lower to the ground at the same time. There are walls, but they are much lower and simpler than any other city walls we’ve seen before, made not of quarried stone but of wood, not unlike the walls of our own camp, albeit thicker, taller and possessing walkways on the top.

Our guard walks straight up to the gate, which is guarded on either side by a pair of particularly burly orcs. “These outsiders came to our village. Said they wanted to be friends with orcs. Village chief could not decide. Said to bring them to big chief, big chief will decide.” He explains.

The guard on the left of the gate nods slowly. “Big chief will decide.” He repeats. “Big chief will know what to do.”

“Big chief is clever.” The guard on the right agrees, scratching his head. “Big chief… said outsiders can be crafty. I will go with you to the chief.”

“Hm.” The left guard grunts. “There are…” He pauses to count us, before shaking his head. “A few more than us. I will go with you as well.”

The right guard shakes his head. “Big chief said always someone at the gate, remember?”

“Uh…” The left guard mutters uncertainly. “I think so.”

“You stay, guard the gate. I take them to big chief.” The right guard nods.

“Okay…” The left guard agrees sadly.

They push the gates open and the right guard ushers us through, the gate closing behind us. The city itself is bustling, orc men, women and children walking every which way. It is immediately clear that there was no layout planned during the construction of the city. There are roads between the buildings, but that seems to be the extent of the organisation. Houses, shops, workshops and who knows what else are all side by side along the streets with no rhyme or reason to them.

In other words, it’s a bit of a mess. Even the guard from the gate of the city has to pause for a moment at crossroads to get his bearing. Still, he didn’t get lost at any point and we reach our destination without any particular problems. Before us is the only two-storey building that we’ve seen so far, perhaps the only one in the entire city. Almost as unique are the decorations upon the building of various monster skulls, claws and bones, many of which are painted in various colours and patterns – most of the other buildings are simple and functional, unadorned.

The entrance to the building is both wider and taller than their other doorways, enough that perhaps even Heather could pass through it while only having to duck her head a bit. Said entrance has another guard standing beside it, whom the gate guard shortly approaches.

“Some outsiders have come.” The gate guard explains, gesturing to us. “Need to bring them to big chief so he can decide what to do.”

The guard at the door grunts, nodding slowly. “Big chief will want to see them… But big chief busy. I… Tell him you are here. You wait.” Having decided as such, he opens the door and enters the building.

A few minutes of shifting from foot to foot in restless silence later, he re-emerges from within the building. “Big chief will see you. Come in. But leave your weapons here.” He says, gesturing to the small entrance room visible through the door.

I nod and enter the room, taking off my warhammer and leaning it against the wall. Unstrapping the sheathe of my mithril dagger from my belt, I place it beside my warhammer.

The room is large enough to hold a bunch of weapons, but not large enough to hold a bunch of people, so I follow the guard into the next room. After the others removed their weapons, we are guided into a large, open room, headed at one end by a rather large chair, upon which an elderly orc rests.

White and thin though the hair on his head may be, his eyes still follow us like a hawk’s as we walk into the room, and his arm ripples with muscle obvious even through his clothing upon the side of the chair as he shifts his position. On the topic of his clothing, it is much finer than the garments I’ve seen worn by other orcs. Not fine by the standards of, for instance, the nobility of Stalia, but the work of skilled hands, nonetheless. For some reason, it even seems somewhat familiar.

Soon, all of us are standing in the room before the orc’s big chief. His gaze roams over us before stopping at the guard who guided us here from the village. “Utak? So, they came to your village. Tell me what happened.”

“Yes, big chief!” Utak straightens his back like a kindergartener trying to impress their teacher. “Was guarding the village, then outsiders came. Asked them why they came. They said… They came in peace? That they adventurers from… across the river. Heard of the city, came to be friends with orc people and brought a gift. I thought three times, thought they seem nice. But I know am not smart, so I brought the outsiders to the village chief. Village chief agreed with me… But said big chief would decide.”

The big chief nods slowly. “Good. You followed my instructions and thought before acting. If you keep showing that you can learn from your mistakes, I will have you return to guarding the gates of Ra’tlub.”

Utak straightens up even further. “Yes, big chief! Do my best, won’t mess up again!”

Nodding once at Utak, his eyes shift back to us. “So, outsiders. I have heard from Utak, but I would hear it in your own words: why have you come to Ra’tlub?”

“We recently heard of this place, but we didn’t know much about it. So we decided that we should come and take a look, and hopefully form a good relationship with the people here. As a sign of goodwill, we have brought a gazelle that Xiltroth here hunted.” I nod to Xiltroth.

“I understand, and the gift is a welcome one.” The big chief says. “But why do you want to become friendly with my people?”

“Our camp is not too far from here, to be honest, not even a day’s walk away.” I explain. “With how close we are, it would only be a matter of time before some of your people came across our camp. We just wanted to come to you first, so that there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings between us.”

He furrows his thick brows. “You are not from the five kingdoms?”

I shake my head slightly. “No. We used to be, with the exception of Heather,” I motion to her, “but we left there and have been camping in the wilds ever since.”

“Ah, I understand now.” He nods. “But why leave your peoples?”

“There was a war.” I say simply. “And the races of some of those in our party were on opposite sides in the war. Simply put, our party wasn’t welcome anywhere anymore, so we left.”

He nods. “We know of this war. It is a terrible thing. Our people know better than most how war can destroy lives, tribes, entire peoples. Progress, we have found, you get by working together. Speaking of such… Heather, of the roaming tribe. What news of your people? We sorely miss the work of your people’s weavers, bowyers and fletchers.”

Heather blinks, clearly not expecting to be addressed. “I, my tribe, the chief who led us when we traded with your people was killed, and the new chief… He insisted we be self-reliant.”

“Harold was killed!?” The big chief exclaims. “Ah, what terrible news. What sort of man or beast killed him? He was a great hunter, and wouldn’t have fallen to any ordinary enemy.”

“He was taken by surprise and killed in cold blood by another member of the tribe. That person is dead now, I’d rather not talk about it.” Heather explains shortly. “You knew my father?”

“Your father?” The big chief’s eyebrows raise, and he looks more closely at heather. “Yes, you do look similar… But yes, Harold was a good friend of mine, in the rare times we saw each other. What with him leading your people and me leading mine, there wasn’t much spare time between us. Still, this last time was strangely long, and I had started to think something had happened… But one never wants to believe that they have lost a friend.”

He sits silently for a few moments with his head bowed before speaking again, this time addressing us as a group. “Your words have been honest and truthful. You are welcome in this city, but we will be watching you.” He waves an arm to the guards. “Guide them outside, and one of you take the gazelle from the young man there. Let the guards know that they may be let into the city without asking me in the future.”

We exit the building, collecting our gear on the way out. Utak and the guard from the gate leave with us as well.

The gate guard turns to Utak, clapping him on the shoulder heartily. “Good work Utak! Not long before we work together again, I think!”

“Hope so.” Utak grins. “Will work hard. Maybe not so hopeless after all.”

“Look forward to it. Gal’der is strong, good guard… But not smart.” The guard says. “Very not smart.”

“Am not so smart, either.” Utak shrugs.

“Hah!” The guard laughs. “Utak smart. Just made mistake. Yes, big mistake, but all make mistakes. Think chief knows you smart, too. Maybe if Gal’der guarding that day instead of Utak, Gal’der not guarding at all, anymore.”

“Hmm…” Utak grunts sceptically.

“Well, have to go back now, let others know. Good luck, work hard.” The guard nods to Utak and starts walking away.

I look at Utak. “So, what exactly happened, this mistake you mentioned?”

He winces. “Happened a little while ago. Another outsider came to Ra’tlub, I was at the gate. Seemed nice, so I let him in. Didn’t think to let the big chief know. Lucky he wasn’t bad, but big chief wasn’t happy.”

“Ah.” I nod. “Understandable, I guess. Do outsiders come here often?”

Utak shakes his head. “No, very rare. There is you and the one before. Before that, last time is years ago. Outsiders fear orcs, some say.”

“True enough.” I nod. “Most places have fought with orcs in the past, and don’t think very well of them.”

“But not you?” Utak asks.

I blink slightly, surprised by the question. “I… I think life throws enough problems our way without making more of them ourselves by assuming someone is an enemy just because of their race. It’s better to make allies and friends instead of enemies, right?”

“Don’t understand…” Utak scratches his scalp. “…But I feel maybe you right. You strange to me. But maybe good strange.”

“Thank you.” I nod in appreciation, deciding - despite the unusual wording - that he meant well.

I wince internally as I realise – I hadn’t introduced myself, not to Utak, nor to their chief! I feel like this might have happened before, but I couldn’t remember when. Maybe it hadn’t. But with everything happening, the stress of the possibility of civil explanations degrading and us having to fight our way out through a city full of orcs, of it somehow being entirely avoidable and yet I slip anyway… Introductions were the furthest thing from my mind.

Better late than never, I guess. “Almost forgot; my name’s Aaron. Boaz and Jakin are the twin dwarves, Xiltroth is the demon, and Heather’s the centaur.”

Utak nods. “Thank you. Will remember your names. But come. Too late to return to my village now. Will show you a place we can stay the night.”

He starts walking into the city, and we follow him.

“That would be very helpful, thank you.” I agree. “It would be difficult for us to find our way around this city on our own.”

“Ra’tlub is messy.” Utak agrees. “Could have been built better. We orcs not so good at planning, thinking ahead. Each place was built thinking about what was best for that building, sometimes not so good for another building or the roads. Once building finished, too much work to try and fix things.”

“That does make things difficult.” I nod. “But speaking of somewhere to stay, how would we pay? We don’t have any of your money.”

“Money?” Utak replies blankly. “Don’t know money. But will be fine. We trade. They let us stay the night, we do something for them, or give them something for it. Always things that need to be done. Always something you need.”

“That’s good then.” I shrug. Something more like a barter system then? It’ll definitely be a bit difficult to get used to this sort of thing, since I’ve always just used money.

Our group draws more than a few eyes, but most of the people we pass by just shrug to themselves when they see Utak leading us. I guess if there is another outsider here, and that they used to trade with the centaur tribe, that they must be somewhat used to unfamiliar faces and races passing through.

As we reach what is evidently our destination, a large – that is, wide and long, rather than particularly tall – building, we hear a loud crashing sound coming from inside.

“Break it up!” We hear a voice roar from the building.

Utak opens the door, unphased by the ruckus, revealing a fairly open room with several tables and chairs, with orcs seated upon most of them, eating and drinking. Two orcs are wrestling over the ruined remains of their chairs and table, their thick skins the only thing keeping them from suffering terrible splinters with each movement.

A burly orc woman storms out from behind the counter and wrenches the two bodily apart before proceeding to shout in their faces, causing the both of them to sober immediately and their faces to pale. “Hell are you doing!? You wanna fight, do it outside, numbskulls! Look at what you did! Which one of you is gonna fix them, huh!? HUH!?”

The room goes mostly silent as those who weren’t already watching turn to look at the three of them.

“Uh… I, uh, don’t know, know how fix chair.” One of them stutters weakly.

“Of course you don’t!” She pulls his face within centimetres of hers, then thunders all the louder, “THEN WHAT PASSED THROUGH THAT ROTTED PUMPKIN YOU CALL A SKULL, THAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD BREAK MY FURNITURE!?”

I wince, covering my ears, but still completely able to hear everything being said due to the sheer volume of the exchange.

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” She roars in response to some mumbled excuse from one of the orcs, dragging them towards the door. She only registers that we are standing in the doorway as she reaches it. “Move.” She growls.

We politely move out of the way.

She tosses the two orcs bodily onto the street, yelling after them as they scramble to get up and flee, “AND DON’T COME BACK, OR I’LL BEAT YOUR FACES UNTIL YOUR OWN MOTHER WOULDN’T KNOW IT’S YOU!”

Chest heaving, her glare follows them until they’re gone from sight, and then she continues to glare in the direction that they escaped until the rage bleeds from her eyes enough that she actually recognises our existence. “Hell do you want?” She barks.

“Good to see you, too, Greta.” Utak laughs, clapping her on the shoulder. “Were looking for a room for the night. Bad time?”

“Utak?” The lingering anger in Greta’s gaze vanishes like a puff of smoke. “When did you come back to Ra’tlub? Good to see you back.” She leads him to the counter and pours out a tankard of something, placing it down in front of him as he takes a seat.

“Just earlier today, had to see the big chief.” Utak replies, drinking a mouthful of the beverage.

“The big chief?” Greta repeats questioningly. “What for?”

Utak hooks a thumb over his shoulder at us, causing Greta to apparently notice that we aren’t orcs.

“Outsiders again? And at your village? God plays tricks on you, Utak.” She sighs, before her expression turns serious. “How did it go?”

“Good, I think. Remembered big chief’s instructions and followed them, so he was happy about that. Said if I kept doing good he would have me guarding Ra’tlub again.” Utak smiles, taking another drink.

“Hah! Told you it would not be for too long.” Greta grins. “Good work!”

I idly look around the room as they chat. Most of the people in the room are back to their drinking and merrymaking, although a few curious glances are sent our way every now and again. The remains of the broken table and chairs are still lying untouched on the floor. They didn’t look to be in terrible shape, actually, and they were of straightforward construction. The twins might be able to fix them if we have some spare wood. Could trade that for board for the night.

My gaze drifts to one corner of the room, to a table with only one occupant, who looks distinctly different from all the other people in the room. His clothes are light, and cover his entire body. He looks too thin and small to be an orc – perhaps the other ‘outsider’?

Perhaps sensing my gaze, he looks up from his drink, and I see underneath his hood. I stare at him in shock. His skin is darker and he looks more weathered, but it would take more than that for me to be unable to recognise him.

How and why in the world is Greg here, of all places?

When I was a child, I delighted in my power. I revelled in it, eagerly anticipated and explored each new power and ability I gained. I felt so powerful, so in control of everything. I was divine, I was almighty, I was a god.

I was a monster.

Every child eventually learns that there are consequences to their actions. Cause and effect, karma, fate, call it what you will. Usually, a parent’s punishments would be the avenue to teach this, but I was above them. They couldn’t teach me anything, any more than the insects or the dirt beneath my feet. I frolicked wildly, a child in a room full of toys with nobody to tell me how to play or when to stop.

But my greed for power, my own curiosity was what unmade me. Changed me, permanently. My powers are not to be bandied about, wielded with reckless abandon in childish curiosity. There were real and serious consequences for my actions, even for one such as I.

In a moment, a single infinitesimally tiny instant, I understood all that is or was.

In that same moment, I came to know that I knew nothing.

I was but a child, who thought themselves a god, that the world folded to their whims. How ironic was it that as I thought myself so high above, I was acting just like so many of the spoilt brats I considered below me?

It was too late. What is known cannot be unknown, lest one loses all that is oneself. To knowingly and purposefully forget that which is so crucial is to drink of deadly poison, for who can simply take a sip to rectify a perceived wrong without falling to the temptation of doing it again, again and yet again until they perceive themselves to be perfect, but yet so far from who they truly were?

With knowledge came questions, as is ever the case. I questioned the world. I questioned myself.

What was I? I was not a man, for what man could do as I could? And yet I came from a man. I thought on the question, and realised I had no answer. I resolved to think on it more, and moved on to another question.

Who was I? This I found simpler to answer. I was Phil. A child, no older than three years. I had had two parents… I realised that they would have loved me, had I given them a chance. Too late – They had moved on from this world, with my disappearance most probably pushing their time forward considerably.

Where was I? Well, I knew that. Or did I? Where was here? Or was here where I am? Was I anywhere at all, and could there truly be a concept of here, if here is not the same now as it was then? Thus, I understood even that which is simple is complex, if looked at closely enough. I resolved to ask myself these questions frequently, even if I thought the answers were clear.

When was I? I found that the question would become more complex as I grew in power. At the time, however, I was now, although I am now not.

Why was I?

Why?

Why. Why… Why? Why, why, why, WHY, WHY, WHY! WHY! WHY! Why was I!? Why was I me, why was I me and not one of the myriad other creatures, and why were THEY not ME! Why was I the one! Why not somebody else… Perhaps they would not be so foolish…

…How was I? Bad. I was doing bad.

I knew what I had done. I knew I could not turn back. Yet I did not know how to move forward as the being I had become. I knew that I was a fool, and in possession of this knowledge, I performed the first wise act of my life.

I sought counsel.