Travelling with a large group of well-armed and ready to fight orcs had the expected effect on the local wildlife. Even our normally smaller, yet powerful, group had a major deterring effect on curious critters, but the orcs took that effect and dialed it to eleven, maybe even twelve. According to scouts and some scrying by Dura Firebringer, Lenore and myself, there were still wolves in the area, while Ylva reported that she could smell Freki’s brood on the wind, truly confirming the connection between the wolves here and those that had attacked her pack. But, nothing came close enough to alert the sentinels guarding our flanks, let alone try to attack the main-group. Similarly, the scouts failed to hunt down the wolves, merely finding some tracks.

All in all, the five days travelling towards the Bright Hollow were about as boring as travelling on Mundus could be. On the evening of the first day, I practised my healing a little, doing what I could to restore the injured orcs but some of their injuries were beyond my ability to heal, only time or a better healer would be able to cure them. It was vexing, I could heal internal injuries with relative ease, even ruptured organs could be restored with some effort but something relatively simple as a broken leg was beyond me.

Sure, I could see the logic behind it, that internal bleeding was simply a problem related to blood, giving me an angle of attack with my Blood magic. Damaged organs, on the other hand, lacked that direct connection but enough power seemed to be able to bridge that gap nonetheless, but bones? Sure, there was a tenuous connection between bones and blood, via bone marrow, but it didn’t look like that connection was close enough to allow my abilities to bridge it. Or so I reasoned, when I finally gave up on mending a broken leg, finally admitting defeat.

Other than that, I conversed with Dura Firebringer, trying to learn as much about her methods of summoning Spirits, while explaining my method of scrying to her. While she had some interest in the magic I had used against the centaurs, Lenore and I were able to conceal most of our working, using the simple fact that our Death Magic was mostly cast by Lenore and her explanations left Dura Firebringer completely confused. The magic wielded by Spirit-beasts like her was simply different from what mere mortals, like the orc shaman and myself, had available. Even I was left stumped by the concepts and ideas used by Lenore, despite the fact that she willingly allowed me to witness her mind and memory as she used them, even trying to mentally explain them to me.

The translation-gap wasn’t as simple as a different, spoken language, it was more akin to trying to translate from a completely different linguistic paradigm, with different letters and a radically different logic behind their language. Compared to Dura Firebringer, I had the advantage that Lenore was willing to act as reference and help me translate but it was a major mental effort, leaving me with a headache most days.

On the other hand, it seemed that trying to conjure up spirits for myself would be rather difficult, as it required working out agreements with major spirits. That would allow the spellcaster to draw upon their descendents, as long as they resided in the spirit-world. Curiously, the original agreement didn’t depend on the spellcaster themselves, it could be passed on by introduction from a previous holder.

That was how Dura Firebringer had gained it, one of the ancestors of the Bright Hollow Orcs had somehow made the agreement. They had a whole legend about it, but I took it with a grain of salt, something that amused Lenore quite a bit. According to their legend one of the orcs that had founded the Bright Hollow-Clan had saved a young Phoenix, eventually marrying the proud avian. At some point, even the powers of the Phoenix coursing through that ancestor hadn’t been able to keep that ancestor young and, upon the death of that ancestor, the phoenix had caused a massive conflagration, the fire consuming both the body and the phoenix, while leaving the nearby orcs completely unharmed. From that day on, the Bright Hollow Orcs had been able to call upon those avian fire spirits, the induction passed down from teacher to student.

Sadly, that meant I would have to find my own way to get the agreement of an ancestral Spirit, like Hugin, Lenore’s ancestor, who had talked to the two of us, just a short time after we had met. Maybe, if we found another place that was as aligned to the Death-Element as the Burrow Den had been, we would be able to talk some more.

Lenore liked the idea, but had little idea how to initiate contact and, as evidenced that no such communication had occurred when we had been in a swamp filled with Death and Undead, her ancestor didn’t feel a need to call. Or maybe we had just missed the call by not sleeping in that damned swamp, or there was some other reason. It wasn’t like I had some sort of missed-call function for ancient, spiritual entities from another realm. Maybe I could get myself a mailbox for that, or ask them to leave a message after the beep. Or maybe not. That sounded more likely.

In addition to learning more about the local legends, I learned more about the orcish way of life. During the summer, they practised a mix of agriculture, hunting and animal husbandry, their clan splitting into different groups to prepare for the winter.

One of those groups, responsible for agriculture, consisted of a few, dedicated farmers, some of whom were able to work magic on the soil, cultivating the slopes of Bright Hollow, a wide valley with a small river running through it.

The rest of the clan was split up into travelling parties, some of them slowly travelling in a wide region with their livestock, allowing them to graze wherever they happened upon good feeding grounds. Finally, the younger orcs, those who had yet to gain the experience necessary to keep the important livestock safe, travelled in a closer range, with more experienced orcs to guide them. It was their duty to keep the Bright Hollow safe while also hunting down game for the winter, bringing it back to the clan where it could be preserved. It was from those younger orcs that Dura Firebringer had recruited her force, which explained their relative inexperience. It also explained why the centaurs had been able to raid the orcs in the first place, especially with such a small force.

As we came closer to the curved valley, I was also able to see why it was called the Bright Hollow. It was late in the afternoon when we saw it first and most of the rocks visible were a light grey, some of them even white and the setting sun reflected off them, making the valley appear to be brightly lit, even where it should be in shadow. Just the visual made me shudder for a moment, the idea of heat and light, trapped between the rising slopes of the valley made me incredibly uncomfortable. A natural oven, even with a readily available source of water if the locals wanted to steam me.

From a strategic point of view, the valley itself seemed to be rather useless, the mouth simply too wide to adequately defend, to the point that the orcs didn’t even try. The mouth was wide open, about two kilometers of flat ground before the slopes started to rise upwards, and even that was a gentle rise, making the opening about six kilometers across. Six kilometers of wall, likely too much to adequately defend, so it looked like the orcs didn’t even try.

Curious, Lenore and I started to look closer at their defensive setup, noticing two watchtowers up on the mountains. Those caught our attention for a bit, especially when we noticed movement and bright flags getting unrolled on both of them, while some of the orcs ahead of us were waving differently coloured flags back. At a guess, it was their way to communicate messages without magic, alerting defenders further up the valley.

It hinted that they had a fortified strongpoint further up the valley, still out of sight due to the lay of the land, and the flags allowed them to retreat into it, making it difficult for attackers to get to them. Sure, one could siege the valley but there was a major difference between quick raids for loot and a serious siege, which, historically, could last months or even years.

All in all, I was quite curious about the locals and looking forward to learning more. Maybe even about their magic, if some sort of trade could be made.