Author's Nightmare: Chapter 160 (Patreon)

Solitaire POV: Day 151

Current Wealth: 163 gold 27 silver 46 copper

If I got captured one more time, I was going to go fucking insane.

Well there was no dungeon the second time. Yet. Because I’d been captured far from enemy territory, I guessed, so I was just marched off with the rest of the orcs. I’d figured out pretty quick that they’d decided not clashing with Viras’ army was the better part of valour, which meant we were probably retreating to a strong-hold of some kind.

Big brain time; how does one create one or more outposts able to support a thousands-strong army when one is a rising power consisting of orcs with several times the caloric intake of humans, fuelled by barely-advancing agriculture?

The answer is one doesn’t. Which meant, in all likelihood, I was being taken to their home city. It would’ve been exciting, where it not…You know. Me being dragged to the fucking home city of a pack of orcs. 

For about a week we moved, orcs crossing great distances thanks to sheer stride size and strength. I didn’t have a hard time keeping up, even shackled, and within those seven days we crossed well over a hundred miles of terrain. I kept an eye on the night sky, memorising the layout of the stars in the first night and then using that as a reference to figure my bearing for the subsequent ones. It was something to do, at least. And then we arrived.

I’ll admit to being surprised by the city, and yes it absolutely was a city. A big one, almost Elswick’s size and with a composition of towering stone. There was a mountain at its back, a great many hills around it, and it seemed to have valleys for streets. Inside there was an impressive density of people, probably a good few hundred thousand in total, I’d guess, maybe over a million. All orcs. It was slightly disheartening to be around so many towering forms, and certainly didn’t bode well for escape. But then I’d never have been forcing my way out anyway. The chance would come, I just needed to pounce on it.

For now, water was all I got.

They dragged me into some bathhouse, quadrupled my guard and removed my shackles. The skin around them itched slightly, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the other captives I’d seen. There was no flaying, no blood and festering wounds. I guess that was the benefit of supernatural durability. I’d felt another surge of that power we levelled up with after leaving Swanhen, and though Shango wasn’t here to quantify it I knew it was significant. I’d given myself improvements across the board to my physical abilities, with an emphasis on Toughness. With luck that’d come in handy whenever I made my move.

Well, if I didn’t mess up physical abilities would be irrelevant, but still.

Bathing as a captive was, I learned, an exercise in self control. They didn’t clean me as much as hose me down, bucketing gallons of water over me, then calmly scrubbing me while I snarled. They ended up re-shackling me after the third time I punched one of them, and the whole affair took about forty minutes in all. Not my record, of course, but I suppose I could work on it. Once that was done they marched me elsewhere. 

Interestingly, I was far from the only human here. Even discounting other captives from Swanhen, there were quite a few of my supposed kind wandering around with the demeanour of people who’d been there for a while. All wore similar clothing, simple woollen things, and all kept their eyes carefully downcast. Some sort of servant class? Well, no surprise there. I made a note to learn more about the city.

But there was no chance for that now, now I was being hauled off to…Somewhere. Through big corridors, which got broader and higher-ceilinged as I progressed. The decorum improved, too. Less gold and pomp than in places like Elwsick, more dead animals and proof of feats. I figured out I was heading to this place’s equivalent of a throne room long before the door opened to reveal it. 

A big room. A very big room, bigger than I’d have expected for a throne room even. At the end was a great seat that looked all regal and impressive, holding the uncomfortably familiar Guraganar. Beside him, kneeling at his feet, was a short red-headed woman with skin pale enough I thought she might combust in the sun. 

Leading up to them was a thick rug made from something very big and very dead. The walls were adorned with banners, more stone coated with more hide, and the room was lit by a great many bonfire-sized fireplaces burning away. Awfully wasteful, I thought. But then built your castle out of solid rock into a mountainside and you’d end up going through a lot of firewood. 

“Leave.” Guraganar ordered, and the orcs behind me hesitated only a moment before turning on their heels and disappearing out through the door. I looked around again, walking forwards idly as I did.

There were no other exits, of course, not even if I were willing to test the limits of my resistance against falling impacts. They’d not have left me unguarded otherwise. I took the sights in, bundled them away in my mind, and then turned to the leader.

“Get up.” I ordered her. “We’re alone now, there’s no point in keeping the act going.”

The woman at Guraganar’s feet didn’t hesitate even an instant before climbing up and facing me, grinning. Guraganar himself lifted his body from the throne, which she took a moment later. 

“Impressive.” She noted, eying me like I was some master crafted weapon she was figuring out the best use for. “Very impressive. I see the stories about you are true.”

“Not even close.” I told her. “The words for how clever I am aren’t featured in human language yet.”

She laughed, apparently thinking I was joking. “I’ll be the judge of that.” The woman said at last. “My name is Adravigi, and I am, as you have already noted, the true leader of this city. Welcome to your new home Solitaire Belahont.”

I didn’t wring her neck.