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The Orc Hills and its surrounding areas Map
Father did not stop me, for he had forsaken me. Mother could not, for she had been dead for quite a while. So, deprived of guardians, I chose a life of adventure.
How often I regretted my decision, I cannot count. Orcs and goblins became my enemies; should I say more? Well, perhaps that goblins and even orcs became my friends too. But I am getting ahead of myself.
My troubles and fortunes began on the 80th day of Spring, 879. I remember it quite well as it was both my 14th birthday. And, also, the dawn my boss' soul fled from this world. I woke up and he was dead, cold as snow. Happy birthday to meâŠ
We were on the road, halfway between FazilĂĄ and Recuervos. For we were peddlers, of the sort who buy wares in towns and sell them in villages. He had been in this business for fifty years and I had been his apprentice for two, but neither of us would keep that trade.
I was Zary, a tanned boy of green eyes, short auburn hair, wee little ears, stubby nose, a few scratches on my face and a fair dose of road dust over my skin. I wore espradilles and a cape, when need be, and at all times, hat, tunic, short pants and a haversack for the little wants of life.
Luckily, my boss was a native of Recuervos, so with great exertion and desperation I managed to get his body on the mule, and drove it to the city. Recuervos is all walls and towers from afar, and not much else up close, and for good reason. The hills of the orcs were not far and many a battle had been fought for its possesion. At the time, however, it was safe but for thieves and bandits; one cursed me from the cross as I entered the gate.
I saw the family of my boss, told them his late news, and gave them his wares. They let me keep four âmareesâ for my troublesâ enough to support my modest needs for a monthâ and told me to find another job. This I did not do.
Being used to sleeping on the way, I found no trouble to pass the night behind the mighty walls of Recuervos, my safety secured by the Watch. In fact, their men were kind enough to let me sleep in a corner of the gatehouse. And no, that does not mean âas in the stories of young rascalsâ that I was arrested. If anything, I would adscribe their kindness at always being on the lookout for new recruits. Pay was low, work not very exciting except when it all suddenly become dangerous, so what is not to like?
Next morning, I learned that I had become some sort of a celebrity among the youngest citizens of Recuervos. My little adventure of bringing the body of my late boss to the citadel seemed remarkable to them, as these girls and boys rarely went beyond the walls. Many had never set a foot outside, for their parents feared of orcs and, most notably, goblins and the occasional dwarf slaver. A boy, once kidnapped, might never be seen again; for girls it was the same, though the danger was thought to be much worse.
Four of these kids with a plan: âOsa, Conda, Erico and OdriĂĄnâ two girls and two boys, all around my age, filthy rich by my standards of the time, and eager to see the world, skipped school to meet me.
âBoy,â Osa had reached me in the market as I was on the search for a cheap breakfast, âWould you fancy to earn some money?â
âYes! I do fancy money.â I almost jumped up, as you would do when poverty is grasping your neck.
She then presented herself and introduced me to her friends, asked my name and, all those introductory matters done, she told me of her little plans: hike upriver, to the Matachicos lake, to swim there and camp for a night, just on the verge of the lands of the orcs. And I replied with a quick nod.
Why? I don't know. My new clients seemed so eager and Osa was so full of joy that the whole affair seemed to be blessed by the Goddess. Or maybe I was too young myself, and in every need of being regarded as a little hero. What can I say? We all soon regretted it.
Two days later our doomed party gathered at the gates. They had bought Brisa, the mule, from my late boss family. This made me glad. She was just as happy to see me in her own animal way. You know, sometimes you only learn how much you love something when you lose it. Besides, she would happily bear with all the kids had brought to the trip.
No, I will not be telling you of how woefully unprepared my clients were for the adventure. Yes, they were, but they did not make the usual mistake of bringing too much stuff, as they took just a little more than me, and then some weapons. You see, in this region everybody trains on the sword from an early age. There is always the the âNext Orc Warâ casting its shadow on us. I had never carried a sword, though, for those were expensive, but I was good with the sling: a couple of wolves and a bandit are my witnesses. And a sling is much easier to carry around. Oh but did I crave a real sword, just like my father always kept hanging from his belt.
In any, case our first hours outside meant for little trouble. Recuervos was at holidays, in preparation for Summer Coming and the guards made no fuss of a few kids on their first field trip. We let them believe we were going somewhere much safer, of course. As for their parents, they had resigned themselves to the prospect of their kids getting lost in the celebration, so they would not be missed until sundown. A perfect plan, in our own juvenile minds.
I heard the first complaints just twenty mils from Recuervos. âI'm too tired.â, âI got a blister!â, âThe road is dusty.â, âIt's way too hot!â, âThis is your fault, pawnâ those were some of the sentences they slung at me.
So I decided to call it a day and set camp discreetly behind a circle of wild olive trees. Yet for all my condescendence âthat put us at risk of being found by the guardsâ the complaining did not stop and I feared my clients would cancel the whole thing so I would have lost my earnings. The night, warm and quiet, saved me from that fate, but allowed for much worse.
Allow me, for a while, to pause our narration and tell the tale of a the true hero of this story, a true hero of sorts perhaps, but surely the closest thing this tale has to a hero. This was Tinytusks, a minor goblin chieftain. Only some of these events, I witnessed myself âthese shall become evident. So use your discretion. Disclaimers done, let me contnueâŠ
Two days before the death of my boss, Tinytusks and his band had set up a hut on the southern coast of the âWetty Lakeâ, as goblins call it. For us, humans, it's the Lake of Recuervos, just north of the city. When it was all done, the goblins had a feast of flapjacks and salted pork fat. Finally, the chieftain spoke to his men:
âGood-for-nothing's, the Great War Chief of the Four Corners of the World, told us to keep this place from marauding dwarves, pointy ears and humans. And you promised we would do just that. And the best way of doing that is raiding on human lands!â
Tinytusks, as an adult goblin, was ten centis taller than my poor self, of dun skin, short black hair, wee little ears, stubby nose, and Krashban, the goblin fathering god, has graced him with a lean, muscular body. He was exactly what any discerning goblin girl would call handsome. Still, the good-for-nothing's lowered their heads in dismay. This was supposed to be easy, right? Just wait here, nicely and quietly, eating their beans, and pork, fishing a little, for a month or two, for no human would be stupid enough to venture in these lands to accomplish nothing. Thankfully, Tinytusks knew his raiders throughly and was flexible enough to adapt his plan to their needs.
âAnd that's easy because humans consider these lands as their lands. So we can just stay here and wait for loot to come to us!â
Every goblin and his ticks roared in applause.
Some boring days followed. These should have been, in all probability just the first of many that summer. But one stupid morning, the bravest among Tinytusks' warriors: Ivmeasec, Zicky, Ahem and Loglegs woke him up.
âChieftain, we're in danger. The humans! They are coming!â
Three hours later, my clients and I were happily eating. It was midday, sunny, and we had managed to find a dry spot on the marshy ground. These would be the last day, in a long while, that would meet those three circumstances. We, I mean, they were having a chat about their posh life, so I went for the mule and petted her for a little when I heard a little âplofâ.
Looking around, I could only see the woods the other side of the river, but nothing immediately dangerous could come from there, so I turned to the marsh, which in these goblin lands is mostly featureless, but for trees, bushes, pools, streams, rocks, peat, high grass, giant mushrooms, and muddy ground. All of that mingled with a pandemonium of several species of fishes, amphibians, birds marsh deers, dwarf wolves, rabbits, lynxes, and the gods only know how many billions of bugs. So there are a few places where a goblin might hide. However this one said something in the goblin tongue which I later learned meant, err⊠something that is not polite to put in writing.
I took the mule and lead her to where my clients were eating, and whispered a single word to them: âgoblinsâ. And they went all pale at once. I was expecting them to go for their swords, or freeze or run for their lifes, but not to shout and beg me to defend them, while grabbing my arms like I was some sort of rescuer god.
Luckily, the goblins were having doubts, or, at the very least, did not approach us, so I could devise the foolest plan ever.
âRun!â, I told them, âfollow the river and I will hold them back.â Oh, yes, I understand now how stupid I was, but heroes do that in every story, so at the time I thought it would be a wise, or at least a brave and heroic thing to do.
My clients did not even pause for a âthank youâ but fled in panic, leaving all their belongings behind. And I turned back to where I thought the goblins were coming from and, there they were, 16 goblins, waddling towards me, spear, mace, javelin or ax drawn.
âHold still or I'll shoot you!â Oh well, I did shout that at them as I readied my sling, what may I say? Again, I was trying to save the kids.
I owe my life to Tinytusks. Any other goblin or orc chieftain would have ordered his warriors to charge at once, and I would have died, quite heroically. But the chieftain halted his goblins.
Soon, the whole scene turned into a scene from a puppet theater. My clients, disregarding my advice, had went deep in the marsh, his feet deep in the muddy ground, in a sorry attempt for escape. The mule was happily standing, not understanding or caring for what was around. And there I was staring at the goblins, which, minute by minute, started to look like, well⊠people.
Fate casted the dice when the goblin called Thicky, gave a step towards me. I decided what to do in an instant. Not giving myself up, of course, nor running away, and I did not want to kill anybody, so I shoot at him, right at his wrist! I almost believed my display of skill would impress them, but the goblins charged at me, and before I could load another stone, they jumped over me, four goblins at once, grabbing me a prisoner.
As for my clients, they were panicked enough to fell in a pondweed covered pool, from which they could only escape when the goblins reach and captured them. Rain began right after that, and didn't pause, until we all, friend and foe, reached their hut.
Our first reaction was numbness, then fear. We did not understand, or, rather accept, what was going on. Goblins had taken us. They were overtaken with joy. Even the goblin called Zicky, in pain as my stone had hurt his wrist, shouted in pure joy. But we ignored if that meant good or bad news for us.
We were a sad bunch of youngsters. None of us have reached sixteen years. I, Zary, was fourteen but felt stronger, perhaps because I had less to lose. Osa, Conda, Erico and OdriĂĄn, my clients, were all posh kids from Recuervos, with loving families and a âto that dateâ confident approach to adventure. For my part I was sort of an orphan and in need of any job I could find. But we had been made all equal by the straps that bound our hands behind our backs, the drench, and the smelly goo marsh that had got all over our bodies.
As soon as the goblins were done with their celebrations, their leader addressed us. Bear in mind that his use of our language was rather peculiar, mixing some goblin and dwarf words in it, but I will, instead, adapt it into a more ordinary speech, for it would be next to impossible for you to understand without his gestures. Even with those, it was not easy for us.
âGlorious loot!,â he called us. âI am Tinytusks, but you must call me Chieftain. My warriors are all âbossâ to you. We don't want to kill you. We don't want to hurt you. We are taking us to the Great Chieftain of the Four Corners of the World. If you are not humble you will know the fury of an orc king. So, be humble and do what I tell you. Kneel before me if you understand.â
I knelt at once, do not ask me why. Osa did so right after me. But the rest stood up, defiantly. Tinytusks smiled and ordered his men to paint the throat of the disobedients with goblin ochre. As soon as Erico has his neck paint this had the desired effect and they all knelt as once.
They led us to their hut. This was located on the Wetti Lake, near the birth of the Riomuertos river. We would spend the night outside it, in constant watch. First, they took everything from us, but our pants, boys and girls and alike. No protest, no crying, no solemn acceptance changed anything. Lastly, they shacked our ankles with rings of dwarf steel. These were not linked by a chain âthough have the provision to be soâ but were heavy enough to make running an exhausting proposition. In any how, we were so tired already, that we slept under their thick blankets that kept us warm even in the everlasting rain.
I woke up to burning wrists and numb fingers, and to be made to walk, still in torpor, to a barge. There, our hands were freed so that we could take the rows. Tinytusks and other six goblins would be rowing with us too. These six were Ivmeasec, Ahem, and Loglegs âthe heroes that found us but for Zicky that was to remain in the hut on account of being hurtâ plus three female goblins: Tuist, Foggy and Djodjy. Now, female goblin being as muscular and short as male goblins are, it's not easy to tell one from the other, specially if armed. But it all became clear when they, a bit mischeviously, asked Osa and Conda if they could join Team Girls.
The goblin barge was, contrary to what you might have presumed, well built and safe in these calm waters. It was quite flat, so it could be used not only on the lake, but, as much as it was possible, on the marshes. If there was something I disliked about it, besides being our temporary prison, it was that âfrom the perspective of the crowâ looked like a coffin.
Te rest of the goblins loaded the barge with foodstuffs and what had been our belongings, clothes and all, but the pants we were wearing. The mule too, was left at the shore, calm, which gave me some hope. At least, she didn't see any imminent threat in our captors. That instant I wished to be like her, but humans are born to freedom.
There would be not much to be said of our first day if we were to reduce it to simple terms. It was but a long day of rowing northwards, following closely the shore, under waves of rain, interleaved with short burst of radiant sunlight. Our captors were quite used to this weather but we could swear demons were torturing us. We stopped only to drink, not to eat, much of the dismay of my companions of misfortune. As most of the gentry they were unused of people eating but once a day, as they had always had three meals. The goblins were always singing and talking, quite loudly, as if celebrating the coming of summer; none was louder that our chieftain, very glad to have us.
It was past midday when we arrived to the Village of Wetti, at the center of the northern shore of the Wetti lake, and surrounded by the arms of the mouth of the Wetti river. North of it lay the ruins of ancient dwarf city, but at the time we did not guess what it was. As for the village, it was circled by two rings of pallisades, with a row of wooden watchtowers between them. Inside there could be, perhaps, a few less that one hundreed buildings, with a hall in the middle of it. That would become our home for the night.
We approached the beach relieved to see the end of our effort, but wary of what could be our fate. The settlement, thankfully, was but an ordinary farming community. Many goblins were at the fields: these we believed to be of different races, judging by the color of their skins, including many of shades of green, like in the stories. Conda, whom I always believed to be the smarter, if a bit snobbier of our lot, was overtaken by this sight, much to our captors' amusement. âGreen goblins! Green goblins! It is true, true indeed!â She shouted, as if that knowledge could make our situation any better.
Once at the beach, Tinytusks made us form in single file, combed our hair, and made us march slowly as the local goblins, kids first, then adults, rushed to greet him. I could not understand, then, their language, but it was evident that they were proud of their accomplishment, which could not be other than our capture. It is an odd situation to know that our anguish was the cause of the happinnes of so many people. In fact, I could not help but to join in the mood myself, and so was the case for Osa, Conda, Erico and OdriĂĄn. But then, the orcs came.
Each and every goblin village has, at least, one orc family, which rules over them. On these lands, orcs largely live in towns, with a minority of goblins and some other races, either free or slaves; but they rule everywhere, sometimes brutally, other times less so. Wetti's Orc Lord was of the second variety. He looked old to me, but then I was a kid, athletic, a head taller than an elf and almost as wide as a dwarf. His skin was as dun as Tinytusks', but his face was much more brutal, his eyes âblack and orange like an owlâ made you wish for a quick end. Behind him walked his family: husband, wife, second wife, second husband, two young teenaged girls, and a boy. All his other kids, I learned that night, were overseeing the crops.
As they arrived, Tinytusks made us stand still, arms stuck to our sides and wait. The great orc came to the first kid in our file, who happened to be Osa, and roared like a wounded beast. The he grabbed the girl's trembling arms âshe shriekedâ held and raised her body until her sodden feet reached the height of his eyes. He repeated the ritual for each one of us.
When my turn came I understood the cause of Osa's tears. He gripped my arms with much more force than necessary, to the point of pain, and then raised me up as a kid. This was, I gather, to instill fear in us and respect in the goblins.
The ritual was then repeated by each member of his family, but with weaker and weaker strength. Finally, the boy came. He tried but could not raise up neither of us, and I could see the humilliation in his eyes. So when the kid grabbed me, I gave a small hop, but then he could hold my weight for two proud seconds.
Life returned to, let's say, a more ânormalâ pace right after that, but it took us long to return to our senses. And so, we somehow found ourselves in the main hall, where a feast was improvised to honor Tinytusks and his motley heroes. They were welcomed at the main table with the orcs, in the very center of the hall. Everybody else, perhaps everybody in the village, was sitting around them, further and further from the center, in humbler and humbler tables, the poorer they were.
We were made to sit in a corner, on the dirt floor. We were served a kind of odd goblin porridge made of something they call âhofioâ. This is cereal, mix of cereals, or just any suitable replacement, toasted then grinded, mixed whit salt and whatever else is locally prefered: lard, butter, herbs, friend onions, leftovers from the pot and just about anything, and then cooked in a miriad of ways.
With us there were ten green skinned goblins which were about our age, though smaller than us. I grant you these were rowdy, despite their obvious exhaustion, that late in the day, but behaved with us kindly. We didn't talk much. Mainly because we were all hungry and our hofio was filling, even if bland âit was just barley. But also because we had learnt but four words in Goblin and they didn't know much of ours either.
The highlight of the day came right after the Orc Lord made some speech honoring our chieftain. Oh how proud he was and what an odd reaction I had. Osa, Conda, Erico and Odriån seemed from angry to indiferent to the whole thing, but I could not help but to look up on Tinytusks. I guess, in my hopeless way, I longed for a father. Oh, this could not be, but, for an instant⊠Well, anyway, the thing is a slave goblin came from the main table and dropped on my hofio a bit of some meat, let's call it, fat squirrel. I raised my head: the other slave kids were amazed at the very special treatment I was getting and the one who served me pointed at the Orc Lord who winked at me. I bowed in return, which made Tinytusks proud. Who would have guessed it? Orcs can be thankful.
Our journey continued the next morning: back to rowing, back to the rain and new blisters on our hands. This was followed what promised to be just another welcome at another goblin village, QĂș, star, in the language of goblins.
QĂș laid, at the very north of the Wetty lake. Again we were displayed, but the Orc Lord of this town was much harsher than the Lord of Wetty, to the point of⊠no, I am not telling that.
I am only brute enough to say, and that must suffice, that, at nightfall, Tinytusks ordered his warriors to carry us back to the barge, and continue our journey well into the night. This they could do because the Wetty Lake is linked to the Uda via a canal, dug by elves ĂŠons ago, and we followed it, safer than in any roadâŠ
The goblins did the rowing while we cowered in pain, âand that must tell you somethingâ The orc lash had not been kind. There you have it, I said it. At some point I recovered the strength to sit up and get myself to the row, but Loglegs, the goblin, forbid me to, kindly,, and Tinytusks ordered us all to disembark and set up camp.
We rested to the next sunset; though it was an uneasy time for Tinytusks set up a picket, Foggy and Djodjy. I gather that with our rescue he had displeased the Lord of QĂș and that could mean his death or worse. I reckon that, as everything went quiet, the Lord just did not bother to pursue us. In any case that day he made up all sort of excuses for the Lord of QĂș. That if Osa had not looked at the Lord right in the eyes, he would had been more considerate; that the moon was next to the blood star; that the Lord had drunk too much and ate too little and so much and so forth. Finally, he reminded us that we were not people, but loot, talking chattel and nothing more, that we consider ourselves lucky to be alive.
At the time I did not understand why he chose to defend that beast. In time, I would learn that goblin mothers give similar advice to their children: do not challenge the orc, do not resist the orc, bow before them, be a coward. So why did he risk all to protect us? Had it happened today I would not need to make myself that question, but as it happened that long ago, I do not know, but I am sure he had another plan and changed it in an instant.
When we continued our journey, Tinytusks did not need to issue a command. We knew what we had to do it and we did it gladly. Wherever he was taking us it was probably better than running around the goblin hills, hoping to find some way south. No, if you, or your children, were to fall prisoner to these, tell them to escape, but only with a good plan based on solid knowledge.
The end came at Udachi. This was a full-fledged goblin town, larger than Recuervos. We did not land directly on it, but on a small beach, a short walk from its walls. We unloaded everything, then Tinytusks addressed us.
âDo not fear. I am taking you to the King and he'll choose your future. A good one would be to work in the kitchen, it's warm and there's always food around. A fatty slave? It always works in a kitchen. A sad future? The mines, but don't worry, dwarfs made them, so they are safe. But now, with all the lashing you don't look strong enough, so be a little humble, and it will all go nicelyâ.
âCan't you just let us escape?â The absurd question came from Erico, who was proving to be the most freedom loving among us.
âEscape? You should have done that before we got you. Better, you should had remained at home. When orcs and goblins come to the places where humans live, you hunt us and kill us and make us slaves, as that is what you should do because we go there to steal your gold and snatch your children and anything else we can carryâ.
âBut we didn't go to do anything of that.â Erico sounded like a little boy.
âSo why did you come to our lands, boy?â
âFor the adventure, we just wanted to see the land and have fun, as boy do. It's true! I swear!â
Tinytusks smiled in disbelief and told his warrior to tie us up, as his only reply.
Tinytusks did not get a welcoming comitee at the gate. Those orcs or goblins who were interested in slaves followed some dwarf merchants led by the very charismatic Shabazmund, who displayed a line of some 46 slaves, half of them goblins, a few orcs, the rest human, but all well-fed and well shackled adults.
It was a relief not to be the center of attention for a while. At most a couple of orc urchins yelled some names and us together with some indecent gestures, but Tinytusks sent them away at the point of a spear. Right after that the palace appeared before us and that would be it, we would be facing our fate, butâŠ
âYou, you come with me.â Tinytusks said pointing at me and then to his warriors: âKept the others watched, I have a better plan.â
The kids protested, the goblins protested even more, but it was no use. I, for my part, said nothing.
We detached ourselves from the rest of the party and we were about to enter the palace yard, Tinytusks turned to me. âBoy, what was your name again?â
âZary, chieftain.â
âNice⊠and if you can answer this question with the truth in your heart, it might turn your life for the better: is your family rich? And, will they pay to have you back?â
âMother's dead, father said I was a leech and was happy to see me go.â
âOhâŠâ He paused. âOh, you are telling the truth. Rats! my plan is gone!
âBut theyâŠâ
I could not end my sentence: four burly orc guards pushed us in. âYou are making the king wait, rat!â And by rat they meant my chieftain; to them I was nothing.
We were led to some narrow stairs, then to a winding corridor, and, finally, to a large room, where the King of the Orcs was having his second lunch. He was huge, but not obese, a feat I attribute to magic, as he had devoured the contents of four plates already, not to mention the flasks of beer.
The room was carpeted in animal fur, the walls filled with paintings of mixed quality, from human masters to halfling apprentices, so that not a single stone of the walls could be seen. Four fireplaces heated the chamber, and the slaves who rushed around, the guards, and even the friends and concubines of the orc king were covered in sweat.
As we entered the room, a guard threw me into the ground. She then undid my bounds and told me to kneel as my chieftain waited. That took an hour.
âWell-come, my dear⊠oh, Twistusks, is it? Is this your first loot? How cute it is. But tell me, why have you not brought the others to me?â
âThe others?â
âThe other four kids. I have guards and they tell me things.â
âOh, I thought it would be better to bring them to you one by one.â
âWhy?â
âWhy? Well, this one is the great Zary, you see, the most importantâ
âWhy?â
âIt⊠will tell you, itself, my great King.â And he looked at me, like pleading for his life, that I would come up with something.
âSpeak, boy, or I'll have you as a steak.â Our great King thought that to be funny and everyone but Tinytusks laughed.
âMy King, I am only a slaveâŠâ
âYou aren't. You are a captive. I'll decide if you can be a slave or a bandit to be hung from a cross.â
âSorry⊠but I know how you could earn money. Those other kids, their parents are wealthy and they trade in spices some from lands far away âthat was not honest to the Goddess trueâ and you could trade them away.â
âBut you?â
âOh, my father hates me, I have no value on myself, but the major would receive meâ âI felt no scruple lying to this king.
âSo, you think I should let you go and come back with an army?â
âI would like that, but I know you cannot let me, it would be too easy for me to escapeââ I was trying to think fast, âbut you could write them a letter asking your price.â
âThen, I don't need you.â He laughed and added.âVery well Tinytusk, this smart kitty you can keep as your slave, do with it as you see fit. As for the others, I'll keep them captives until I receive the ransom. Then, I'll have another mission for you and your warriors. Oh, and, you can prefix your name with a âsirâ.
Tinytusks drunk with joy almost, al-most, kissed me.
Osa, Conda, Erico and OdriĂĄn did not look particularly excited to be sent to the hall of the King of the Orcs. Conda even got into a fit of rage and blamed me for âall thisâ, that it was all my fault. Her friends added nothing, but neither said a word in my defence.
I might have replied with a few harsh words. I probably did, even though my memory tries to make me wiser that I was. But the stain of blame, whoever had it, has faded into a wisp. I was fourteen and they were not much older. What could I expect?
As for me, I was placed under the whims of my goblin chieftain, Tinytusks, and he showed me around, together with his warriors that he had chosen as guard for our journey: Ivmeasec, Ahem, Loglegs and the goblin women Tuist, Foggy, and Djodjy. They ate and drunk at the Feast Hall, run by two family of halfling slaves. I was locked in the pantry for my goblin masters and mistresses would not be, let's say, in their best mind to guard me.
To be locked in a halfling pantry might be good for you, however. Provided, of course, that such halflings are friendly and that you are, like I was, a starving teenager. It was not only the food, but the songs, the dancing, the smell and the cheerfulnes. A weak smile âthey told meâ is the spark that ignites the oven, and then you can have spiced honey bread, with raisins, and served with double cream and pulfy. I have no idea what that thing was, but boy, it is good.
I slept in a corner of the cellar, while my masters slept in their room upstairs. But I cannot complain, for the halflings offered me a compulsory bath, blankets for the night, and a breakfast of kings. Still, I cannot guess how my belly, thin as it was, could find room for as much as I had eaten.
Dark-awe is a cave close to Udachi, where an ancient goblin goddess dwells. That's where Tinytusks band led me the next morning, without a word of explanation. The mouth of this cave had been painted and carved, so that the stalagmites and stalactites mimick the maw of a terrible monster; its throat, so to speak, was barred with a metal fence.
I was not minding them too much, as Tinytusks had been asking me about my past life throughout our walk there, but when the guards of Dark-awe ordered us to stop, everything change abruptly.
âHave you brought the sacrifice?â The chief guard asked, and I did not care because they were speaking in Goblin.
âI have.â
âThen, bring it in.â
Tinytusks nodded, sad, and then I worried. âThis is the end of our walk,â he told, âwe will not go any deeperâ, his warriors turned their faces from me. âYour life will end down there, do not bring shame to you and me by delaying what must be rushed.â
That, he told in our language, word by word, learned by heart. At this time, you might be guessing Tinytusks changed his mind at the last minute, or that a ghost is writing these lines. HoweverâŠ
âWill it hurt.â
âYes.â
âAm I going to die?â
âAhem.â
âAlone?â
âIt will go fast.â Tinytusks evaded my question.
â⊠good-goodbye then.â
âOh, I forgot, this is awkward,â my chieftain told me, âthe breaches you are wearing, leave them here, I will sell them afterwards.â
Inside, it was dark, the fence had been locked behind me. My mind began to sing, of its own will, the funeral song I heard at my mother's. My knees quaked, my feet were colder than the rocky, wet, coarse ground. I breathed and stopped. Darkness blinded me. It smelled of heather, though it must had been my fear stricken imagination.
T wo stomps and then she stopped an arm's length from my heart. I could barely make her immense figure in the shadows, but I knew I was but a gnat to her. Then her weapon became alight like a torch, and I could see. I was been dwarfed by a giant orc, clad but with a skirt, so her gender was obvious. On her arms, a wooden shield decorated with a monstrous skull and a stone mace festoned with iron spikes. Was she to smash me like a gnat?
âClose to me, boy, they are watching!"
She spoke, or rather, roared in the common tongue, which did little to help me understand what she meant, but I complied. I walked behind her, deeper and deeper into the cave until we eventered a sort of chamber bathed by a greenish light that came from its very bottom. Death was waiting for me in a lagoon of boiling green gruel. Suddenly the prospect of ending as a smashed gnat seemed a handsome fate, but I was not spared a second to think about pleading, running or fighthing.
Into the rocky ground, she threw her weapon , grabbed me and hurled me into the pool, the worst of any terrors I had known or dreamed, and ran away into the darkness.
I shrieked, cried. The green gruel, whatever it was, felt lukeworm. I was not about to die scalded, but I was breathing fire. My eyes closed, my head hanged limp, and my mind heard the voices of thousands of children, hundreds of adults: goblins, humans, halflings and even some elves who had gone before through my ordeal. All cried in fear, many had died, many begged me to swim, run away, but I couldn't. A crow flew in, scattering all them away.
That night, I woke up at the mouth of the cave, weak as if I had just survived the most horrible of fevers, almost naked, my skin turned to green, alone, except for my chieftain who wrapped me in a blanket. âMany days, you'll serve me as a slave, but I'll carry you tonight to the Feast Hall, shall we? I've heard you fancy honey bread.â
Why was he caring for me now? Er⊠who knows? That was Tinytusks then.
The Sun smiled on Udachi on the 4th day of Summer, 879. I had recovered enough that we could return to my chieftain's keep, which was not much or less than, but precisely a hut on a smelly marsh, by the southern shore of the Wetty. First, my chieftain Tinytusks wanted âso he saidâ to follow the Dwarf Law on slaves, and then, do a bit of shopping before reuniting with the warband.
Incidentally, from now on, whenever I write about the warband, I mean his warriors and all those under his command, willingly or not, for that is the goblin custom. However, if I refer to the retinue, that is to be understood all of the warband which accompany our great hero.
The Orc Hills, near Udachi, map.
At dawn, we all went to âThe House of Booksâ. This was not a library but a Royal office of records, staffed mostly by dwarf bred and trained, slaves.
I had not yet been to many official buildings, as you might expect from a boy who had only worked as a muleteer and then had gone through this, should we say, adventure. Even so, I could tell that office was anything but an ordinary office of government. The whole thing was a square tower of stone that seemed plucked out of a castle. Its door was a huge double board of oak and brass nails, to which, some young rascals, âas it was the local customâ had been nailed through their ears; they would not be freed until the next sunrise. So, you can guess I was a bit iffy when my chieftain told me, and to me alone, to follow him inside.
We were made to wait for some while, and then a soft voice called us not in Goblin, but in Koiné, which then I could only half understand.
Sir Tinytusks, may your wisdom grant us the benefit of your presence?
He went in first, in his flashy new clothes, bought, no doubt, with the money he had acquired from his human prisoners, including my own. I cannot say that made me happy, but I had to go humbly, for my master had the right of Law and King.
The room inside was austere: a cabinet filled with books, a fancy chair for the new knight, a small desk with an open record book, and a stool where a tall, gaunt, salve goblin was sitting. I have just written an error, that I shall correct sooner than it took me, then, to realize my mistake. This was not a goblin, but a high elf, lowered to the condition of servant, by the same ordeal that I had just gone through. Laugh, if you need to, but I could not help but to pity him: an elf, who would disdain a human kight, how could cope becoming a slave, and worse of all, a green goblin of the lowest caste.
Greetings done, the elf told me to sit on the cold ground and invited my Lord to take the chair. It all went quickly after that.
âMy Lordâ, the elf was speaking then a perfect goblin, odd only for how polite it was, âZary is the name of the boy, shall he retain it?â
Tinytusks looked at me. âZary's a fitting name for a slave, short, weak, and the boy seems to like it.â
âVery well, my Lord, you may want to sit and relax outside with your retinue. There is some work to do and I am sure you have better things to do than to see my poor self working. Or, if that is your preference, you may pay the King's Tax on the office at the ground floor.â
Tinytusks knew he had to pay the tax at once, for the King of the Orcs took tax dodgers as traitors and bandits. âA tax? Argh, very well, I am loyal to the king, of course.â
âOf course, sir.â
Once Tinytusks was gone, the elf/goblin spoke to me in our own language.
âZary, hope is magical. And I should know of such things for I am proud elf. Well, not so hefty, I have known better days⊠I've seen many terrified kids like you before, and I shall see many more. But, all things considered, you should pity the slaves of the dwarves, orcs and even humans, and may the Goddess keep you from falling into my own kin. But I think you'll be able to smile often, if you try hard enough. Yes, despite your present situation. From time to time even I am able to sing again⊠Goblins⊠they are an odd lot, but be loyal to them and they, wellâ they won't be too harsh. So don't escape without a plan or do anything stupid and, it will get better, eventually. Right?â
âThank you.â
âOne day, I, Derodriel, the elf, shall be free, too. But, today, I must do what I can, and no more.â
He then went to the desk and proceeded to record my name and appeareance in his book. At once, I felt pain rushing through my heart, but I ascribed that to the feeling of the hour. Little I knew of the way of the elves.
That done, he raised his eyes and said. âAlmost done, Zary, can you read?â
âA little.â But that I meant I've got some lessons from street teachers so I could read the notices at the markets and such necessities.
Without uttering a word, he took a book, a flask of white ink and a shining pen. Then, he asked me to go to the desk and present my arm. He tied it to the board, running the rope to elbow and wrist and through four holes, drilled for such use.
âZary,â he told me as he made the rope tight, âone generation ago, before my coming, goblins used to mark their slaves with hot irons. That hurt terribly, for days, and left an ugly scar that could get infected to the point of death. My pen will leave a jewel to behold. Well, it will be painful, very much so, but it will not hurt you, and the pain will subside as soon as I am over. Keep still, or it will take much longer. Oh, and unlike the brand of the iron, this will leave a jewel to behold. So, breethe and let it pass, I will try to me gentle.
I nodded. âThank you, Derodrielâ. I closed my eyes.
âOpen them, and read from this book, it will help with the painâ.
This was the âSangs for ma dearie deid boygieâ, Imperial Poetry I could barely understand, and could only read aloud, slowly, like a small kid, for I hadn't have much instruction but it did work, or perhaps he fooled me, for there was no pain that I felt. Except, perhaps, when I saw three lines of white letters on my green skin.
This boy belongs to Sir Tinytusks
Entry 3,422 = Book 5 = Page 53
Udachi Slave Record
That was bit to remember, another was that when my chieftain came, Derodriel begged him to teach me to ride and write and other useful skills that will make me more valuable in the long run. Tinytusks refused and asked me later why the elf was so interested in my education, but I had no idea.
âPerhapsâ, I ventured, âhe thinks I'm smart or, he was a teacher, beforeâŠ
âNah! Impossible! Odd!⊠perhaps in winter, if the king wants to feed you.
I did not know it at the time, but Deodriel could sweet talk to the King, from time time. In anyhow, we forgot the incident as we went into the maket.
The market at Udachi deals on all sort of wares. These are mostly of the same kind that you would see in any human town, plus and minus some types of foods or drinks that are more or less palatable to orcs or goblins. Slaves, too, on occassion. Much more often is the buying and selling of loot, including, of course, what has been ripped off captives and corpses.
Tinytusks, when he replensihed the warband's rations, had the kindness of buying some gear for my use. I knew this had been owned by some boy, or boys, or perhaps a halfling or two, who had also fallen victim of robbery or worse. I knew I was wearing stolen goods, but I did not go, as, in the stories, nagging my goblin master about the immorality of it all. Instead, I nagged my own heart at every night for many, many nights.
But they had been cleaned and fitted me well: gray breeches with two matching tunics âso there was one to spareâ a vest of the kind that shepherd boys use and two changes of underwear, which I sorely needed. To that he also added a canteen and a knife. Yes, a knife, not a huge thing, but I never thought he would trust me with one. Nothing for my feet, though, as it could be expected. Goblin youth do not wear shoes, neither their slaves, except it is winter and your master is kind enough, and then they would be either wooden clogs or moccasins.
With my green skin and the writing on my arm âboth of which I had tried to rub off at every chance with utter failureâ and my new clothes, I felt shaken by feelings. I was not whom I was, still
There is no much to say on the journey back to our base, except it was the reverse of our going to Udachi. We, of course, avoided QĂč and its Lord of the Lash and, instead, camped as far as we could from that den of fwkorkhs. But apart from that, there's nothing to be said: the same rain, wind and rowing.
We landed at our place, I reckon, on the morning of the tenth day of Summer. Much to the retinue's joy and amazement the place had been improved in our absence with a shed for the mule that doubled as a watch tower. Zicky, the goblin I injured in my attempt to defend the posh kids, had proven to be an amazing leader. Furthermore, he welcomed me as warmly as he welcomed the other members of the warband. The day would turned to be lazy and joyful.
That very night our chieftain, following the human custom, promoted Zicky to Sergeant and granted him the right to name our place, which would be known, from then on, as Firstloot.
I also met Brisa, the mule, who promptly guessed who I was, despite my new look. I groomed her, like in the good times. She was to become my first tasks of many. That's the traditional role of the slave goblin: do all the chores that nobody else would bother to.
I cannot complain too much; the others would work too, and have to go on patrols, while I mostly would remain at Firstloot. I ate what the others ate, though as far from the fire as it was possible inside the hut, and slept inside, like goblins do when left to their ways: all together in a mess of feet, arms and heads. Nobody thought of me like a foreigner: I was the last among them, but one of them.
At dawn, the chieftain woke me up and released the rings from my ankles. âThis isâ, he told me, âso you can work faster, not to run away from usâ, and his voice was deadly serious about that. I had no intentions to run away, where? In words that my father could have used, I looked like a bloody goblin. In a human city I was bound to become a slave, of the kind that don't see the light of day. I washed myself in the lake as often as I could, but it didn't help with that.
From now on, let me fade away for a little while. The previous stories had been focused on me, but that was necessary so you could know who is telling you the story of our hero, Tinytusks. But that is done, and the ordinary life of a slave is dull and boring, so let me keep myself in my place.
Two days later, so around the 13th day of Summer, another barge came to our shore. These were six orcs, King's warriors, and four prisoners that you know well, Osa, Conda, Erico and OdriĂĄn. Their parents had agreed to pay for their ransom, and all that remained was the dangerous issue of the exchange.
Of the orcs, the only one whom I remember well was their leader: a brute of huge tusks known as Red Shield, which, trust me, was not due to paint or ochre.
Trouble did not seem likely as the humans could profit nothing of killing a few orcs and the lifes of their kids were at risk. Even so, Red Shield carried an order from the King, instructing Sir Tinytusks to depart one day in advance, to scout ahead of the guards. I was not included in the scouting retinue, but was kept at home with five other goblins for such exciting adventures as the gathering of fuel and the treatment of mule's excrementa, not to mention caring for both guests and hostages.
Incidentaly, no, my former clients did not figure out whom I was, in part because I tried to keep myself as far from them as possible, thank you. Last thing I wanted was to be seen as I had became, when they were about to recover wealth, family and freedom. Besides, I was sure they hated me.
Notes: (Showing human names) a)Â âThe Witchfingersâ b)Â Mont Rainwall c)Â Lake Krwg d)Â Sadford e)Â Firstloot aka Tinytusks' base
Sir Tinytusks gathered his best goblins: those who have gone with us to Udachi, plus Zicky and another four. So, to wit, the designated heroes were: Tinytusks, Zicky, Ivmeasec, Ahem, Loglegs, Tuist, Foggy, and Djodjy âwhose names you already knowâ with the addition of Dontpunic, Mannerik, Eldold, and Robsmor. They quickly gathered arms and rations and paddled towards The Witchfingers.
From now on and until I say otherwise, bear in mind that I was not a witness, but I will write only from what I gathered after the fact.
The retinue landed at The Witchfingers, with just enough time to set up camp for the night. The area, if you are unfamiliar with it, is a flooded marsh where wooded isles and cauldrons of stagnant waters are surrounded by the thousands arms of a river that agonizes here before accepting its death at our lake. Mosquitoes and worse maraud the night by the hordes, but goblins are well used to them and don't even notice their bites.
The next day, so the 15th day of Summer, 879 if I'm not off by a day or two, the heroes hid the barge and camped on Mount Rainwall. Still, no casualties, but a slow rabbit who became the main attraction of their stew.
But on the 16th, when they descended from the hills and approached the river they discovered the odd appeareance of about two dozen orcs, hidden among the bushes, all waiting for somebody to come. Tinytusks and his retinue observed them from afar, as well hidden. First, they noticed the orcs to be quite uneasy, Zicky thinking this has been the result of a long wait. Then, Tinytusks discovered that their leader was our awful âLord of Lashesâ.
Tinytusks gathered his âgood-for-nothing'sâ.âIs it not a great coincidence that these bstrds are right here at this time?â All the heroes agreed with him, but most hesitated to do anything about it. Attacking them would be almost suicidal and besides, there was the odd chance that these ones had not come to collect the King's Gold for themselves. But Tinytusks would have nothing for it. âLook, I'm sure that the Lord of QĂč hates us and made inquires about us, but found about the human pups rescue. They'll kill the humans, make slaves, get the pups and then get us. All will be blamed on humans.â
âBut still, we cannot fight them.â
âWe can and we will!â
âWe could like tip Red Shield.â
âAnd he'll go back to the King, the human soldiers will get killed, and we'll have to flee to the gods know where and, we will lose our loot!â
âOh⊠but how?â
âI'll have a plan, you can bet your eyes I'll have a plan.â
After sitting down thinking for a whole long hour âan eternity of pain for any goblinâ our Chieftain and my Master, Tinytusks called his most trusted warrior, Zicky.
âGo uphill,â he told him, âto that huge broken tree and set it ablaze. So the orcs can see it. We will be laying in wait for the orcs right in the middle, a perfect goblin ambush!â
âYes, chieftain, running!â
The very impetuous sergeant, took his sack and darted himself deep into the wooded hills. That very second a battle sprang between Tinytusks the rest of the retinue. âChieftain, there are too few of usâ, âChieftain, there are too many of themâ, âChieftain, they are way too bigâ, âChieftain, we are too smallnâ But Tinytusks did not concede a centi, sticking firmly to his plan, swearing, âI've said what we will do and we will do what I've said, and may the gods punish you if I change my mindâ. That, and the promise of getting each one to boss me for one full day, did the trick. Though the part about getting to boss me around, I only got from some of my witnesses and heroes.
Not too much later, Tinytusks had made a wee little adjustment to his plan. Nothing major, but his retinue will split up into two groups: one to lay the ambush uphill of the other. The idea was that those downhill would attack as the orcs overtook them closing their escape, while those uphill would attack the head of the column, killing them all.
A for what it became of that, well⊠let's start with Zicky's role, shall we?
If my reader is, as it could be expected, a deninzen of a human city, it might come to some surprise to discover how damned hard it is to start a fire in the Goblin Hills. First of all, of course it did rain that day. As a matter of consideration, it was raining as Zicky was under that broken tree. Zicky had brought his kit: a chain link of dwarven steel, a piece of flint â which goblins call the human rock for some reasonâ and a bit of horseshoe mushroom. With that Zicky's skilled hands could produce a thousand sparks and a bit of flame in no time. But then the baby flame needs a nest so it can grow up large enough to eat a full tree, even an old sick one. For that you need to feed it with plenty of dry wood, thin as a hair, then thin as finger and, finally, thick as an arm. And that takes a bit of time and some cursing.
Well, Tinytusks had went with the downhill group, judging rightly it was the most important and dangerous position to be. The whole plan depended on it. He knew the fire would take some time to build but that Zicky would do it in the end. However, the braves at the uphill group were, let's say, not up to his wisdom, grew impatient and, abandoning their posts went further uphill to see what the fat orc was happening with Zicky. As they reached him, the tree was finally getting ablaze.
The orcs, smelling the smoke first, then discovered the flames kissing the tree. And as even the orcs can sense something funny on a tree burning out of its volition under the rain, the Lord of GĂč sent four of his warriors to discover what was all the fuss about.
These Tinytusks let pass, but the uphill group was only now descending back to their positions, and so the orcs scouts discovered them. It was only that Sergeant Zicky was now leading them that they could escape getting deeper into the forest, hiding and becoming a bit lost.
The leaders of the two groups could not see any of that, of course, but knew nothing was going according to their respective plans. The Lord of the Lash, the evil orc, commanded his warriors to run uphill and ârooaghr brwhaargh krunchgwaarrâ or something of that sort. Our chieftain told our hero to stay well hidden, as good goblins should be.
The ârooaghr brwhaargh krunchgwaarrâ ended, for some reason, with the orcs dispersing even before they reached Tinytusks position. Then the chaos of six goblins descended upon, one of them, who fell to a mace on the back of his leg, a spear through the back of his neck and a sword thrust into his kidney; also through the back. And this one happened to be the Lord of QĂč, whos last words were something of a âa most noble deathâ, if you believe our most honorable goblin warriors.
Then, the whole thing became a little bit messier, if that could be. Our heroes âdancedâ the orcs. This means, in goblin parlance, feint attacks and slip into the woods, once an again until you disorient your enemy. Now, goblins have his forte in chaos, or maybe it is just our luck, but the thing is Tinytusks retinue eventually bundled together while the orcs dispersed more and more without their leader. And so, one by one, began to fall to our weapons and wits, and only fatigue saved half of them who flew as fast as they get.
At Firstroot we have had heard nothing of it. Our good orcs and the hostages had departed at their appointed time and then life became boring for a week. âZary, I've got a tick in me buttocksâ, âZary, go fetch waterâ, âZary, see that damn muleâ, âZary, you can have meat todayâ. Oh yes, that last bit too. But I shall tell you about the ordinary life of a goblin slave in another story.
What matters is that when the retinue arrived back home, he immediately made me go with him, the mule, and two other goblins to recover the loot of the orcs. Of course, they had already got the gold and the small things, but the armor and clothes would have been a burden to carry. So I got to be there, and see the smelly remains of the Lord of QĂș while, downhill, next to the river, Osa, Conda, Erico and OdriĂĄn run to meet their parents under the guard of a squadron of human soldiers. Trust me, I had not been happier since my mom's passing.
âZary, hurry up with stripping the corpses, it's smelly here, chop! chop! chop!â
Fear tells humans to be wary of summer, for that's when orcs go to war. And I will restrain myself from telling you to forsake all your cares, but that is not exactly how it goes. You see it all much depends on how the crops had went, and the loot that have been acquired. If it has been too few, then orcs will descend upon human cities, not to conquer, but to plunder. If it has been too good, then they will go not to plunder but to conquer. But the first half of 879 had been pretty bland for the goblins and there was neither desperation to go on a plundering spree, nor the resources for a prolongued campaign.
Tinytusk was content his mission and so was our King. Once he knew about the treachery of the late Lord of GĂč, and his death at the hands of our most noble chieftain, he was entrusted with larger resources and responsibilites. And so, a barge came from Udachi bringing six addtional goblin warriors, keen to join the bane of orcs. The King, with them, sent more supplies and rations, weapons, a flock of chicken, and the permission to build a wall. To those unused to orc's law and ordinances that meant Tinytusk was the lord of the land, subject only to the King. And while that was pretty pointless as our area was almost empty, Tinytusks felt he had came to his life's dream. But then, we had to build one.
So not much plundering and little adventure, but there are a few things that did happen that could be presented as fun on a good day, or, at least, construed as interesting. These go now:
Poke in the kidney, Zicky shouts, âBoy, waky up, get us hofio!â This I made adding sal, fat and sausage. Then I put my breaches on and ran for the chicken. The wind was warm, the sky overcast and the ground soft, mushy in spots. The hens jumped of their house to greet me, and I went straight for the corn. Quick, quick, goblins are fretful when hungry. Right after that I picked the eggs, walked as fast as I could to scramble the eggs, with whatever kind of meat we had; don't ask. As they ate, I went for Brisa. She always needed her food, a good brushing, looking for a sneaky tick and a lot of sweet words and warm hugs. Not to mention to clean her shed.
One day, as I was cleaning the shed, I heard a Broonkah! That's Goblin for âa hammer has just fallen on my toeâ and it always meant trouble. It turned out that the goblin named Ahem had managed to cut his own leg while demonstrating his ability with the axe. It was a mess of blood when I arrived there, not terribly serious but it meant that he could not go on patrol. So our chieftain chose me. I had to go with Loglegs.
I dressed up, took all my gear, plus a spear and a vesmi that I was lent. The vesmi is⊠think on a simple square bag, then sew an of a single strap to each bottom corner. Then you fill it up and close by tying a knot with the strap. Believe it or not, but then you have a handy little pack on your back.
Our patrol had three parts: going, watching and coming. And it was in the going when it became interesting for we became lost. Loglegs had never been in command of anything so I believe Tinytusks only sent me with him to see what could be asked of his warrior. The answer was not to much. And I knew the area worse than he did. The good part is that he did not care a bit about us being lost, it was all a holiday for him, and he even got himself to sleep at midday, while I kept guard.
After his nap, we walked randomly again until by some miracle of goblin luck we reached Firstloot, right at dinner time. Had Loglegs got lost on purpose? He never told me, nor ever let me to say anything to the others. It had been a normal boring patrol and nothing had happened and that was the end of it all.
Only after all that was done I could go and have my breakfast from whatever was left. This was not too much until I learned to save some bits for myself, which everyone approved. You see, goblins assume you'll have the wits to be a bit sneaky, as long as you don't take it too far.
On an ordinary day, once my morning chores were done, I got my own breakfast from whatever the goblins had left. And I often remained a bit hungry until I learnt to set aside a bit for my own needs. I wasn't ever caught doing this and I think this was due, in part, to the goblins teaching me to smart up.
After breakfast, an order for Tinytusks would tell me whether it was to be a tough or a soft day. On a tough day, the mule and me would going to the clay plot, load up two pretty large baskets and unload them near the wall as it was being built. Then repeat, and repeat and repeat and, you've got the hang of it.
On a soft day, I'd help gathering fruit and mushrooms. The Orc Hills used to be ruled by humans, and so there are many wild fruit trees and even vegetables. On summer, they are wealthy with ugly little apples, pears and even heroic olives who somehow manage to survive our wet weather. Some days all we did was to eat straight from the tree and fool in a pond, specially if it happened to be shiny.
And then there were the loot days. These were the best because Tinytusks would form a retinue of his best troops, and leave for three or four days. I remained with the laziest of the lot, so it would be fishing, swimming basking under the sun, rubbing my skin so the green stuff would go away, that sort of thing, mostly.
South of the Orc Hills and the human lands bordering them up to Bargos and Bocanueva
As summer approached fall our chieftain grew sullen. You see, since he had finished off the Lord of GĂč, luck has been dodging him. No further loot had been âacquiredâ and the new good-fo-nothings were growing restless and telling of finding a new chieftain. So he set up a last expedition for the summer, one in which I would be invited.
I hated it but said âyes, chieftainâ. I joined the party very sad and ridden with guilt. And that guild sprung up a war of thoughts âTraitor, you traitorâ âthat was the sting on my brain as we left Firstloot. I was not a goblin, I would not ever become one, and I'd have to escape somehow, someday. But not then, I felt the green of my skin my toughest fetter. Who would believe I was human? At best, I'd be an outcast to my own kin. No, I had to abandon my own dreams and accept what I had ended up to be a goblin.
Two days had passed since we had left Firstloot. By then I wanted, most of all, to die and fade away from the word. It was about this time when, near Recuervos, we discovered a target: a grown man, a girl and a mule, bringing wares. I knew them! These were Cana, my friend, Rahano, her dad and Saltarino, the mule. This wasn't fair! We were way out of the Orc Hills, they just were traders. Surely Tinytusks had to understand.
I knelt before my goblin chieftain, tears falling off my face, begging that we'd leave them alone, praying for a miracle, that I knew it couldn't happen.
But then, this chieftain was called Tinytusks.
âAlrighty, we'll leave them alone.â I could not quite believe my ears. âBut there's a little catch,â Uh-oh, âWe need better loot, and you will choose it.â
Believe it or not, I was smiling. Yes! I knew exactly whom we could extract our loot from: Saccos & Denas. That was a corporation with a shaddy trade: hire âapprenticesâ from starving families, taking their mortages and getting their homes. THEY KILLED MY MOTHER THE bstrds!!!
As a muleteer I knew that at the end of each season, they took the money they had extracted from poor, desperete, honest, inocent people and brought it to their posh palace in Bargos. Now, Recuervos never produced them much money, but that was besides the point, which was something in the lines: I WANT YOUR GUTS!!!. Besides, that means only two guards would be required for the escort, which suited us.
So I told all that to my glorious chieftain, Tinytusks, in exquisite detail. When they will get out of the citadel and where they would rest for the night. This is a small ruined hovel some 100 etros from the road, which they thought to be their little secret.
Tinytusks' plan was masterful. I would bait them by laying on the road begging for help and⊠no, he changed the plan to that Thicky would pretend to be a halfling girl in trouble but⊠he skipped that in the last minute and just let them rest in the hovel, then burn it at night with them inside.
Oh, they survived, running away for a little while: twelve to twenty steps to be approximate, and then they had to surrender. It's hard to fight the glorious Tintytusks' Warband, when it's twelve to one and you are on your undies. We all yelled in exultation to the point of kissing and dancing, the bstrds were not so glad, all begging for their puny lives, while we tied them up tight. And then we sneaked into the night, undetected, happily returning, with prisoners and loot, to Firstloot, which we entered singing.
We are the kings of loot,
the fwording masters of brutes
and la, la, la, and la, la, laâŠ
After the celebrations for our little victory, Tinytusks turned to his inner self for, I am not sure, seven days? As for what was on his mind, there could be but one thing: what to do with the loot, including the two captives.
It was an easy time for the rest of us âsave for the added chores that our two captives meantâ it was all eating and lesiure. For me it was a time of swiming, fishing and playing to find treasure. Oh yes, I still played back then whenever I had the opportunity to do so, alone, for there was nobody my age at the warband.
It might sound weird to you, but I remember that week as a full life of fantasies. Autumn brings to the Orc Hills a paradise of green and gold. The grass is infused with light and the streams shine as they difuse themselves under the sodden ground. Water never abandon the winds: mist to showers, the sun remains the servant of the clouds.
I turned fifteen as the our little vacation ended. I told nobody for I judged my age had protected me from some treatment. That day fed me with melachonly, for all I had lost before, and all I expected to lose. I could see myself in the pit next winter. This is how it was to happen: I would fall sick, keep working until I would fall, face first, into the snowy mud. I'd spend my last days in the hut alone, by a faint fire and then I would sleep away to the Lands of Ash, for the goddess would not care for me.
I was planning my last words when Tinytusks ordered a few of us to join the retinue. We were setting off to present the entire loot to the King so our monarch could take his share. Of course, everyone knew our chieftain was planning how to help the King to take a most prudent decission. None of us guessed the extent of his boldness.
Gwdar, to the NE of Udachi, amid mountains, receives the ore of the mines
Udachi was not our destination this time, but Gwrdar. Gwrdar, much larger and richer than Udachi, was the residence of the King from the end of Summer to the middle of Spring, once the floods from the thaw had subsized enough that travel was again safe. Then the King returned to his birthplace for the better months of each year.
But I would not get to Gwrdar, then. Arriving at the village where the orc kid hoisted me up the first time, Tinytusks hired the captives, me and the mules to the Lord of Wetti. It was time for the late harvest and there was plenty of work for three slaves, and our chieftain would get a few marees from our sweat.
The captives were made to work and live in the stores, never allowed to go outside. My luck was merrier, as I worked in the fields, dawn to dusk, under the constant rain. And, I was happy, most of the time, when the orcs left us alone. The goblins, and so I did, took it all as a game, and now I was among goblins of about my age, boys and girls, and I could learn new jokes, often the hard way. Brisa, the mule, was with me at all times, and she made friends with the goblin kids faster than I did.
Above all, I loved the rain. I could make some sort of excuse for my love in that, in human lands, a merciless sun had made me beg my late boss to stop. But rain works on me a tender magic that fills me with life and joy.
Days passed by, and all was going well. I made friends with the goblin workers, and even had a soft crush for a girl of green skin. But we didn't get an centi beyond a kiss, because my chieftain would return and I would leave, perhaps for ever.
I was amazed to find out, one morning, that the captives were missing. They had never been allowed to leave the hall and I had seen them working chained so I saw no reason that they would be allowed to sleep unrestrained. Unless, of course, âthat was my first guessâ they had bribed someone with promises of gold. They were employees of a wealthy company and had probably the means to tempt any orc or goblin. Still, once free, they had no incentive to keep to their words, and if I teenager like me could see that, a shrewd goblin could not fall for it. So, what was it?
The orcs formed a search party, but none of the goblins had any faith in that. They were going to the Yeik a land so wild and empty only a ranger would attempt to cross it. Besides, orcs are abysmal at scouting and living off the land. That's why you'll almost never see an orc warband without, at least, a small contingent of goblin scouts. At the time, however, they said they needed all of us to get the harvesting done and we should be quiet if we knew what best for us and thankful that the Lord of Wetti had cared to explain.
Two days after that, the search party returned defeated, but careless for the fate of the escaped slaves. That amazed the goblins as much as I was, for their escape was a breach of honor. The Lord of Wetti would have to make apologies to our chieftain, a goblin. An orc would rather die that confess his shortcomings to an inferior, and here they were, acting if they had lost a pebble.
Tinytusks returned that very night ahead of his retinue, much in haste and much in worry.
âZalky, my boy, wake up, the plan has gone wrong!â
âWhat plan, chieftain?â
âJust come with me, we have to get the captives back beforeâŠâ He stopped himself at that.
The orcs organized a second attempt at the Yeik soon afterwards, and with two dozen goblin scouts this time. The rest of our retinue had arrived meanwhile, enough for our chieftain to doodle a new plan. âWe'll take the raft and paddle home. If they have gone south to Recuervos we may still catch them up in our own swamp.â All our goblins agreed to this. Some observed that once they reached dry land a goblin can never catch up an adult human in a race, and the mere thought of that outcome made them pale with fear.
I would only learn the reason for it on the raft. It had been Tinytusks idea that the orcs would make it easy to âoverhearâ that our chieftain would hide the money under the ruins of a human temple near Sadford, close to the human borders. Furthermore the plan involved an orc getting so drunk as to âforgetâ to chain them up for the night.
The intention was that the captives would return with a search party to recover the lost gold, but there, a horde of orcs and goblins would be waiting for them. Prisoners, perhaps by the dozens, would end up at the service of the King, the Lord of Wetti and our chieftain. That, and, of course, other loot: wagons, horses, mules, good weapons, better armor, tools, tents, food and so forth as small armies need to sustain themselves.
Of course, for this to work out, the King of the Orcs had to prove it. Yet, the whole idea had not amused the King one bit. I guess, partly, because Tinytusks had failed to realize the gold he had seized would never be enough for the humans to set up an expedition of that sort. At best, they'd pay a goblin or two to do the work for them. Tinytusks found himself under an ultimatum, either he recovered these two slaves for the King or he'll find himself under bondage.
Luckily, after a few days we found the escapees lost in the swamp, hungry, confused and almost relieved that we had found them. The local mosquitoes, midges and worse had not spared a centi of their skin, and in whole they looked so miserable that even I felt for them.
Nobody was happy, though. Beyond the third day, on our way to Gwndar, this time with the complete loot, Tinytusks did not disguise his anger. âHe deals with me as if I already were his slave. Rats! We shall not suffer this again.â That sentence, and many more to the same effect, he repeated over our journey, but on meeting the King, he meekly delivered the loot and kept whatever the King allowed him: one of the slaves and 8000 marees.
But then the King had a last, let's say request. Derodriel, the elf, the one who had recorded my enslavement, had mentioned my name to the King. The slave wanted an apprentice who would help him with his records and start a school of clerks. This was the great dream of the King of the Orcs: to have a proper state, just like humans had, and be respected beyond his borders. And so, among false smiles, I was delivered to the King, borrowed until the coming of next year's thaw.
Tinytusks withdrew with clenched fists, rightly fearing that the king had no intentio to keep to his word. His words of departure to me were sober. âLearn and grow, be loyal to me and I will find a way to repay you twice in kind.â
Well, some sort of âendâ. At any rate, many adventures await to Tinytusk yet, Zary was not his only witness, and even the wee slave might not be forever lost from adventure.
