Location: Gorlf Northern Territory
Actions: Going Away
Malkus opened his eyes as he felt cold again. He groaned quietly; why couldn't he just die? He looked around and saw others around him. For a while, his usual fear of strangers and crowds weren't taking over his head. He figured it was already over for him: might as well not piss himself about it. They seemed more interested in saving the cabin anyways, so Malkus would leave them to it. He couldn't find much strength in his body, fatigue and exhaustion settling in very quickly. It took him a momentous amount of effort just to stand up. Once he was on his feet he just... Walked away. He didn't care if anyone stopped him, called out to him, or hell, if they even attacked him. He belongings were being a burden, not helping that most of them were burnt up too. His Sleeves of Many Garments had caught on fire at some point and left nasty burn scars on his wrists. His bandolier was in tatters and his chest were stained in colorful liquids, likely his various potions that were shattered against his body when he was thrown out. He was alos missing his backpack and a lot of his knives. The only thing left where the clothes on his back, his kukri, and his traveler's anytool. Funny how he managed to hold onto this of all things. Regardless, Malkus walked into the forests where he vanished.
Backflash: Three Days Ago
Location: Heading towards Gorlf Northern Territory
Actions: Traveling with a nameless Caravan
âItâd be rough ahead of us. For the sake of time we gotta skirt the border, but we ainât gonna go into orc territory. Even so, ye still want to join?â A rough voice asked. It came from a clean-shaven dwarf leaning against a heavy crossbow taller than he was.
âOui. Ntaj go Gorlf Hold. Half-way cheap. This okay?â In broken common an orcish man handed the dwarf a few gold coins. The dwarf tested the gold and sure enough it was legit. He wasnât too certain where the orc got the money from, but maybe it didnât matter. If an orc wanted to go back home, the dwarf was willing to profit from it. Who knows, maybe the orc could even help make sure the caravan didnât get sacked.
The orc, Ntaj Zoov Yaaj,didnât want to go home however. Gorlf wasnât his home; it was just a land where orcs were. His home was wherever he went nowadays. A traveling vagabond, Ntaj was aimless but never lost. He intended to head to the Gorlf territory to learn more about the orcs there. See how they manage things, maybe even make a name for himself there. He hoped that his orcish would be understood by them. Heâs already has a hard enough time understanding common, he doesnât want to have a hard time with his own mother tongue. Though he didnât imagine that they would welcome him with open arms. Even in Dark Star half-breeds like himself were barely tolerated. Ntaj was only treated equally because he was the Kingâs son, and even that didnât stop gossip and slander. But Ntaj wasnât going to let stuff like that put him down. Life is full of traversity: prosperity means overcoming those things.
After paying for his ride, Ntaj sat in one of the wagons. He was technically just a traveler, but he had volunteered for guard duty as well. Of course the caravan already had a fairly well-armed cadre of guardsmen: twenty warriors, local tribesmen who were familiar with the area and sold their services to foreign merchants. Ntaj could tell that he could easily take on a warrior with ease, but from the way they moved and organized themselves, Ntaj was also aware that they werenât just barbarians. They fought with pack tactics, with a sort of hive-mentality that allowed them to fight as one as oppose as twenty men just fighting in a cluster. Put some metal armor and an insignia on these men and you would have some disciplined soldiers.
So it was no surprise for Ntaj that his ride was a fairly quiet one. On the rare times trouble reared its head, mostly in the form of a thief or highwaymen, it ended quickly. Ntaj barely reached the fight by the time the guards took care of the problem, and while they did suffer three casualties by the end of the trip, no one from the caravan was harmed. So for most of the time Ntaj had spent his time just carving from sticks he would pick up during stops. He made little effigies of animals and what he taught a couple of gods looked like. Most of them were natives to Sword Mountain: Chuantea the Harvest Goddess, Selune the Moon Goddess, and Luthic the cave mother just a few that he finished.
âHmm. Theyâre all goddess. Well, I hope they sell well.âOn the first night, they stopped at the top of a hill. The guardsmen formed a defensive perimeter around the caravan while the caravaners themselves set up camp. They were kind enough to allow Ntaj to have some dinner, though he was expected to pay if he wanted seconds or another mug of water or ale. Fortunately he had managed to find some edible mushrooms, so while he accepted their offer he had some extra snacks for himself. As the caravaneers sat around the fire for dinner, Ntaj tried to strike up a conversation with a human.
âUgh⌠What you sell? Weapons? Metal?ââMany things, though nothing like that. We wouldnât want to be targeted by orcs looking for weapons or anything. Weâre just bringing flax, books, cotton, and wine. They might not be as impressive as weapons or armor, but they still bring a pretty penny.â
Ntaj nodded his head slowly, understanding most of what he was saying. Basically no weapons, just âBooks and suchâ. That would explain why theyâve only be targeted by petty thieves instead of bandits. Ntaj wondered if they had any books he could read.
âBooks. What kind? Orc? Elf?ââMost are common, though I think we have a few elvish texts. I wish I knew what they were myself, but all I know is that theyâre more expensive than the books in common. Prettier too.â
âOh. Pretty.â Ntaj pondered if he could read one of those books. However if the last time he was in a library was any indication, people donât want him touching their books. Something about being a filthy orc. Or was it just filthy? Ntaj swears he washed himself already, he just didnât have soap. It wasnât exactly a high priority item, and not easy to obtain when youâre wandering through the wilderness. So the chance of actually reading a book interested him.
âCan Ntaj read?ââIâm not sure,
can you read a book?â The human smiled at Ntaj, which confused him.
âOui?â The human just chuckled and shrugged. âNot really my say. We do have a few of our own books we read during the travels. I donât mind lending you one of mines.â Ntaj struggled to understand what the human said, and was only vaguely aware that he might allow Ntaj to read a book. He just nodded his head and the two continued to eat in silence.
An hour later and it was time for bed. The guards had already arranged their shifts so all of the caravanners can sleep soundly. The weather was suppose to be clear, and the ground was dry enough, so Ntaj opted to just lay out his bedroll on the ground. Around that same time, a badger showed up at Ntajâs feet.
âHoney! Muaj koj!â In Honeyâs mouth was a dead snake. It looked like he went to get dinner himself. Ntaj typically letâs Honey roam about on his own as the badger was more than capable of fending for himself. The only time Ntaj would carry his friend would be into buildings or onto boats. The caravan hardly moved so fast that Honey couldnât keep up on foot, and even if it did get ahead of him he knew Ntajâs scent well enough to follow. Honey the badger ate the snake right next to Ntajâs pillow as he laid down. He was about to toss the cover over his head when the human from before stopped by.
âHello! You wanted to read one of our books, right?â
âOui?â Ntaj only vaguely remembered wanting to do something along those lines. The human knelt down and handed Ntaj a book. He squinted at the title and tried to read it, but it was in a fancy front and he could only make out the first letter of each word. A few minutes spent struggling to understand itâs title, the human spoke up. âItâs a bestiary! An Encyclopedia of Deadly Creatures. Um⌠A book with monsters and animals. I thought you might be interested in it.â Ntaj understood most of what the human said and nodded his head.
âOui. Thank you!âThat night, Ntaj spent some time under the moonlight reading. He didnât get very far into the book, what with his difficulty reading common and all. The font inside the book was much easier to read than the cover, but at some point he got bored trying to understand the index and just flipped through the book for a cool picture of monsters and read about them. He eventually stopped at one.
âE-The-Re-Al Un-dead...âRegarded as a general classification encompassing ghosts, wraiths, wisps, and similar beings, ethereal undead refers to any magically reanimated creature with a central body functions that can no longer be disrupted by physical means. Consisting purely of a soul bound to a rudimentary magical body, ethereal undead are created by necromantic mean or, more rarely, a dying individuals own force of will. Of course, Ntaj didnât quite understand what was written exactly like that. To him, Ethereal Undead were ghosts. Plain and simple. Ghosts werenât things he ever dealt with. Heâs seen a zombie before when he was still training as a Totem Warrior, but never a ghost. Heâs heard Holy Water was effective against ghosts, but he didnât really know much beyond that. As Ntaj read the book his eyes slowly began to drift to sleep, until eventually his mind wandered off to the realm of dreams.
Some time passed and Ntaj opened his eyes. It was still dark out, but the moon was on itâs way down. He would guess that in about an hour or so the sun would rise. He was surprised that he was able to wake up this early, he honestly was a pretty heavy sleeper. He noticed that Honey was no longer sleeping next to his head, but that didnât surprise Ntaj. Honey tended to wake up earlier than Ntaj and did his own thing. Getting up and stretching his body out, Ntaj went to see if the other caravanners were awaken.
He found the rest of the caravanners, and the guardsmen, all dead. Ntaj froze petrified.
âYup. This is a nightmare. It has to be. Iâm speaking proper common.â Ntaj pinched his arm. He felt a sting but didnât wake up.
âStill just a dream⌠Just got to wake up...â Ntaj walked through the camp. It looked like the caravanners did get up before he did. Parts of the camp like the tents were being taken down. A pot of stew was being made. The horses were harnessed and ready to head out. Of course they, as well as everyone else, were chopped up and torn apart. It was rather⌠Horrifying. Ntaj is no stranger to butchering his foes, yet this sight was sickening. This wasnât the act of a man with a axe. A monster must have came by and killed everyone here. But who? And why would this monster kill everyone but Ntaj?
Ntaj soon found his answer when he saw some sort of ghostly figure rose from the ground. It looked like a
skeleton of some sort and yet⌠It still caused Ntaj to tremble. He took his sword out in preparation to fight it, but his hands were shaking.
âWhy am I shaking? Itâs not even that scary. Itâs just a⌠Damn⌠SkeletonâŚâ But Ntaj knew the reason why. He looked around and saw the warriors remains scattered about him. They were not killed in their sleep, they had weapons in their hands, they were near one another. They had died fighting. And yet somehow they still were defeated by this⌠Ethereal Undead.
Before Ntaj could realize the folly of his ways the Ethereal Undead lunged at Ntaj. His instincts told him to block itâs strike as if it was just another blow. But instead of simply blocking, he fell to the ground, dropping his sword, and rolled out of the way of the creature. Briefly he looked at the ghost as it phased through a half-dismantled tent, before turning around. Before Ntaj knew it he was running. He couldnât fight this thing; he had no weapons that could harm it. How could he hurt something that didnât have a physical form? He ran into the forest, not caring where he was actually going. He figured if he could just keep running heâd eventually be safe from the monster. Maybe if he could survive till sunrise and let it shatter into dust. But as Ntaj ran into the forest he spotted a woman.
âHelp me! You there, you have to help me!â He ran up to the woman and looked at her. But she didnât have a
face.
Ntaj didnât even get a chance to scream when a set of claws stabbed him through the chests. Slowly, the claws tore his body in two. He could see his own innards fall out of his other half before his head tumbled to the ground, his own blood spilling onto his face. The last thing he saw was the monstrous woman pick up his severed head by its spine.
And then he woke up.
Ntaj woke up in a cold sweat. Honey was right next to him, raising his head suddenly just as ntaj got up. He looked around the camp and heard the bustle of the caravanners packing away their camping supplies and getting ready for their journey. Just like in his dream, it was still dark, but the moon was on itâs way to the horizon. In a few hours the sun would come up. This time, no one was dead. He could smell a simple gruel being stewed up, and soon the human from before came by. âOh! I was about to come and wake you up. Weâre leaving in a few minutes, you missed breakfast. I think Charlene still has some she can scrape up for you. Donât worry, you donât have to pay for this. And to be honest with you, you couldnât
pay me to eat that slop.â The human laughed at his joke but Ntaj wasnât feeling so humorous. He packed away his sleeping supplies quickly, getting a bowl of the gruel. Despite doing so however he hardly ate more than a few spoonfuls before the caravan master, the dwarf, announced that it was time to move. Ntaj held onto his bowl of gruel for most of the trip, taking a few bites even after he had become cold. Eventually he just gave the rest of it to Honey.
By midday Ntaj was back to his regular spirit. The nightmare was frightening, but it was just a nightmare. It wasnât his first, nor will it be his last, but it was just all in his head. He figured that the book may have given him the nightmare, but instead of blaming the text he sought answers from it. He looked for ways one would combat a Ethereal Undead, with answers like a silver blade or holy water being the most appealing. Magic was also possible, though Ntaj was no spell caster. So he looked into Silver Blades and Holy Water.
Though since this was a book on monsters and not adventuring gear, he only found scant information about the two: Silver could be added when making a weapon to give it a magical edge against creatures like demons, undead, and other monsters. It was often expensive and silvering a weapon was not something that a common weapon smith could do. And seeing that Ntaj only had about 50 gold in his wallet, which was barely enough to buy a regular longsword, he doubts getting a silver weapon was within his budget. Instead he looked into Holy Water.
Just like silvered weapons, the information the book had on Holy Water was limited. Holy Water was mystical water created by clerics of good-aligned deities, often used for blessing, anointment, and warding off evil. Holy Water is highly effective against the undead, and even incorporeal creatures like ghosts will be harmed. Speaking of ghosts, Ntaj looked up more about Ethereal Undead, and with the help of some of the other caravanners who explained what the bigger words meant, Ntaj learned that Ethereal Undead and their kin are immune to regular weapons. Even objects like walls wouldnât stop them. That would explain why the warriors in his dream failed to fight the Ethereal Undead: Ntaj was pretty sure they only had regular steel-tipped spears.
Closing the book, Ntaj decided that on the next break he would try to learn about Holy Water. While not a religious man himself, Ntaj did occasionally pray to the gods for good luck and protection. Hopefully someone in this group was more pious than Ntaj was, because he had an idea. An idea about how to make Holy Water based off his own theories. Heâd need a priest in case what he does fails or is even sacrilegious.
"Ntaj make Holy Water."
