Chapter 30

  “Report!” Noah ordered. Ne’Ja nodded.

  “One casualty, seven severely wounded, and a handful more with minor wounds. The worst are being taken to Un’Dal right now,” she answered. He nodded, all things considered, it wasn’t bad.

  “Who was it?” he asked. Her face darkened.

  “An orc named Cho’Li, he was one of Zo’Kati’s squad members.” Noah didn’t know the warrior well but was sure to have shared many meals and passing moments with him.

  “He will join the legend tonight. Until then, we need to figure out what to do with the mole-people,” he replied. Ne’Ja nodded.

  “Will they join us?” Recter asked. Noah shrugged.

  “Once they have recovered, we will ask. I need several of you to work on getting them food and water. Ne’Ja, send out your scouts and make sure this is an isolated attack. Everyone else, bring the corpses to the crafters to see what they want to keep.” He commanded. Everyone went to do their tasks and Noah helped those fetching water for the mole people. He figured a bit of face time couldn’t hurt if he wanted to win them to his side, and who better to like than the person bringing you food and drink when you’re exhausted?

  Supplies fetched, he made his way over to the mole woman he had spoken to earlier. The group had mostly transitioned to sitting, though some still lay prone, either sleeping or too weary to sit up.

  “Hello there, care for some food?” Noah offered as he approached. The pseudo-beast considered it for a moment before shrugging and taking the proffered meat.

  “Thank you. It has been some time since we last ate,” she said through her chewing.

  “Did they starve you?” Noah asked. Her face tentacles wriggled in thought.

  “I think it would be more accurate to say that they didn’t think about it. We have been burrowing non-stop for the last several days,” she answered.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “We picked a fight we couldn’t win and had to run, a lot of our warriors were killed and we were driven from our land. The king was desperate to grow his kingdom though and demanded that we expand our territory in your direction.”

  “I see,” Noah mused. “Did the other kingdom follow you?” She shook her head.

  “I don’t think so. It's hard to follow people who travel so deep underground,” she answered matter-of-factly.

  “And your kids, where are they?” Noah asked. The mole frowned and looked at his face for a moment before responding.

  “Why do you want to know?” she asked. Noah scratched the back of his head.

  “Ah, sorry. I guess I was thinking that you would want to get to them soon, and was going to offer to help. I can see now why that may sound alarming though. To be frank, I was going to invite your people to join our kingdom,” he explained.

  “Oh. And how would that work? I do not think many of us would be willing to accept anything like what we just experienced.” she voiced. Noah nodded.

  “And I wouldn’t allow something like that. I would make the same offer that I gave to the other group that recently joined us. You would be a vassal state with your own territory and governance, though you would ultimately be part of a larger kingdom. If we went to war, we would expect you to contribute in the best ways you can, just as we would come to your aid in the event of an attack.” Noah explained.

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  “That sounds too good to be true. I will have to discuss this with the others,” she replied.

  “Of course, take your time. Until then, if there is anything you or your people need, please let us know,” Noah said before walking away. He met with several others, sharing food and water along with the offer. Overall the response seemed positive, but he was hesitant to push for an answer. From what he had observed they had been a rather barbaric situation, even if they seemed somewhat unaware of it. The mention of the other kingdom had been alarming as well. Everyone he spoke with had similar things to say about them. They were overwhelmingly strong, countless in number, and worst of all, organized. They had so thoroughly crushed the mole people's attempted attack, that they didn’t believe they made so much as a dent in their forces. Noah had fought the leftover warriors and knew they weren’t weak, meaning that this other kingdom was far beyond them, perhaps akin to Jeline’s people.

  That reminded him that he really ought to talk with her soon, it had been several months since their last conversation and the last thing he wanted was an enemy on both sides. After his rounds were finished, he made his home for a meal, followed by a soak at the bathhouse. He was accompanied by Recter and several other warriors who were eager to unwind after the battle. Something about getting thrown through the air had that effect on a man.

  “Any idea if they will join?” Recter probed as they sat in the near-boiling pool.

  “I think its likely. Why do you ask?” Noah replied.

  “I was thinking it would be nice to commission an underground lair, perhaps an addition to my current home. It suits a drake to have a proper hole in the ground,” he hissed. Noah blinked.

  “Are you being serious?” he asked. Recter stared at him.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied. Noah shook his head.

  “Nevermind. Have you tried the new weapons?” Noah asked.

  “Sharper than steel!” Someone else called from across the pool, but the room was too fogged to tell who. There were several grunts to the affirmative.

  “Ayy! Finest metal I ever laid my hands on! A gift from the the gods, surely!” came a deep voice that Noah did recognize. While the smith was recognizable to him, he realized he had never actually gotten the orc’s name.

  “Smith, forgive me but what’s your name?” Noah asked. His question was returned with raucous laughter all around.

  “He wants to know the smith’s name! Get a load of that!”

  “Chief, do you truly not know?” another asked. Noah frowned.

  “Know what?” he asked.

  “Ayy. He doesn’t know,” answered the smith. There was a chorus of laughter and several requests for the smith to tell the story.

  “Fine, fine. I will tell him,” the smith assured, quieting the group. Noah got comfortable as the orc began to lavish a tale of old.

  “The tradition of the smith is as old as time. While warriors are revered for their own courage, might, and valor, the smith is known by the traits of their weapons. Reliable, sharp, sturdy, and beautiful to name a few!” Several orcs chuckled as the smith paused.

  “The very first smith was known to create mythical weapons that propelled many warriors to great heights. For everyone knows that a warrior is limited by his might, his mind, and his tools. The smith lived a long and meaningful life, paving the way for many young warriors, and becoming the backbone of his village. One day, however, it was his turn to meet his final end. When the warriors gathered to sing their companion into legend, they realized that they had never known his name. His was not the name celebrated in feasts, touted in battles, or sung by the ladies, yet everyone knew that their success hinged upon his existence. The chief decided that they would start a new tradition to recognize the sacred role of smith, a great honor. Instead of speaking of the smith’s own traits and attributes, every warrior sang of their own triumphs and gave glory to the smith who made it all possible. The legend of the smith is more accurately the legend of a tribe. For this reason, when one chooses to become a smith, they give up their name and take on the sacred title and responsibility of smith,” he finished.

  “I love that story!” someone shouted.

  “Ayy! This is what it is to be an orc!” another joined.

  “I find this quite acceptable. My people would take well to this tradition,” Recter added.

  “What a great legend yours will be one day, smith,” Noah stated. There were several grunts of agreement, and soon they fell into shared reverie as thoughts of their own legend came to mind.

  “I believe it is time for me to depart. I have some moles to speak with.” Noah announced after some time had passed. Several followed him and together they left the bathhouse behind. Noah smiled as he went and he couldn’t shake the sense of belonging that he felt after the story. While he often felt isolated as one of the only humans, it was moments like these that drove that isolation away. Perhaps I was meant to be an orc from the beginning.