Furious Scribe
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46. Hull - Night Work
🕑 Added 2024-10-20 01:18:00 +0000 UTC
Chapter 46
NIght Work
The Orc’s head came right off under the force of my Vampiric Blade, making only the faintest whicker of sound as blood gouted from the severed neck stump. I shuffled back almost to the tent wall to keep clear of the flow, letting the poor sot’s sleeping blankets soak up the gore. My muscles were taut and my ears on point as I listened for any outcry or disturbance outside, but Qi’shen’s silence aura kept others’ noise from me just as it kept my noise from them. Honestly, focusing on the fear of being discovered deep inside the Orc camp kept me from thinking too hard about the bloody work at hand.
“This people moves across the land like a cloud of locusts,” Qi’shen had explained to us not long before as we’d crouched in the trees near the borders of their camp. “Their Chaos-driven desire to be ruled by the moment makes it hard for them to plan, and so when a great host like this comes together, they make no baggage train or supply line. They take what they need from where they stand and strip the land bare, killing and eating whatever comes to hand, whether that be plant, animal, thinking being, or innocent child. Remember that no word has come to us from any of the human outposts that they must have encountered; it is likely that any Orc that comes under your hands has fed on human flesh in days not long past. Think on that when you kill tonight if your work begins to feel like murder. You are crushing locusts, no more.”
His words were meant to harden us as we crept through the enemy camp seeking out the holders of siege engine Relics that might be used against the city, but for my part, it was easiest to imagine the body in front of me as someone that I’d found in my sleeping spot on Hook Street or caught scarfing stale bread from my meager food cache hidden under the loose cobblestone on Sinner’s Row. I’d been doing night work long before I ever dreamt of a life as good as this one, and here in the dark it wasn’t hard to get back to the kill-or-be-killed mindset.
Much as I’d have preferred to sit this one out after having been used as bait just the day before, I’d been chosen for this mission because I was a heavy hitter, and for this raid to be successful, we had to be able to kill with a single, silent blow like I’d just done. Between my Blade, a Feral Strength buff courtesy of Ky’reen, and a full complement of Nether powering my hand, any Orc would have to have a nearly-full Mind Home to survive a hit from me, and the rank-and-file types we’d encountered so far rarely had more than 5 or 6 cards. I squatted by the severed head and collected the cards jutting from behind the ear one by one.
Exactly what I wanted to see. Qi’shen had been issued a Relic-sniffer card by Edaine or someone else in the army hierarchy, a jeweled dragonfly that hovered over the tents of those Orcs who held the cards we’d been tasked with stripping from the enemy in order to protect the city.
Most Orcs weren’t the kind to make Relics themselves – even something as simple as a dagger required first forging an Artifact and then inserting it into a card – so any heavy-duty Relics they owned were likely to have been taken from humans or elves at some point in the past and brought forth now to help them lay siege to the city. It appeared that those cards had been collected and handed over to those Orcs most well-suited to their use, because the dragonfly only stopped at a few tents along our path, and the kills that the others had made before it was my turn had looked similar to what I was harvesting now: few or no Soul cards and a small stack of war Relics. I wondered how the Smith who’d made the dragonfly got it to focus on war machines specifically instead of Relics more generally, but I was certainly glad they had. Not that I minded taking Relic swords and maces out of the hands of the enemy, but if we were going to protect the city, I’d rather leave behind a hundred of those in order to snatch a single scaling tower or trebuchet.
Reaching into the dead Orc’s mouth got my hands messy – prying open the jaw far enough to get my fingers past those tusks required some muscle, and it was still leaking a decent amount of blood – but all I got for my efforts was three Basic shards. We weren’t even supposed to worry about their Soul cards – it was the war Relics we were after – but not even stopping to check offended my street rat’s heart.
I wiped my hands on a clean part of the blankets and scampered back out into the night, keeping low and loping on all fours back to where the others crouched in a dark lump in the shadows of another tent. Even in the darkest hours past midnight there were still Orcs gathered around bonfires to sing, drink, and fight, and one of them could come stumbling past at any moment, giving us away and likely ending with us all dead. Qi’shen gripped my shoulder tight in fierce approval as I handed him the cards and shards. I’d thought about pocketing the shards, of course, or even one of the cards, but I knew I had to be on my best behavior if I wanted to not end up in a jail cell when this war was over, so I curbed the impulse. Hestorus hadn’t come flying over the walls to murder me in the two days since Edaine had presumably informed him of my treasonous blunders, so hopefully a hangman’s noose was off the table for the moment.
The tiny, buzzing insect Relic dipped in front of Qi’shen’s face and zoomed off into the night. “We go,” he whispered, barely audible under his silence aura, and he moved after it, fluid as a panther. The rest of us did our best, but none of us humans – myself, Gerad, nor Afi – could match the grace of Qi’shen or Ky’reen, who was in her wolf form and Spell-buffed to the nines. We slunk from shadow to shadow, lurching erratically through the dark in search of our targets, circling wide of any fires or sentries – though the latter were just as likely to be dicing or sleeping as keeping watch.
It felt like an eternity that we were at it. Three more times I snuck into a tent and three more times I harvested cards from severed heads. One even had another Orc sleeping in the tent, which made me very nervous, but the sleeper never stirred as I did my dirty work on their bunkmate, and they joined the other in the Twins’ embrace mere seconds later. I wasn’t about to leave an enemy at my back, and it turned out that it was the second one who had the Relic cards I was after, anyways. When we were moving about the camp, I made very sure to always keep at least one other teammate between myself and Gerad; this was a good opportunity for a knife in the dark. Despite my caution, he seemed to barely notice me, a hunter’s gleam in his eye and an intense focus to his movement as he entered each victim’s tent that said he was enjoying this. He went into five tents to my three, and each time he emerged with a fresh thumbprint of blood on his forehead. He was marking his kills. I wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted or impressed.
The longer we stayed, the greater the danger, but also the more of our objective we achieved. The gutter rat in me got more and more nervous as time wore on, but the job wasn’t done. Our elf leader had done his best to reassure us of his support before we’d started; to be fair, he’d done a damn fine job of it. “If you are to follow me on this venture, you must trust that I have you well protected,” he’d said as we’d first approached the Orc camp. “Look into my eyes and see what I have to offer.”
Gerad reared back in disgust as he realized what Qi-shen meant. “You mean to show us your Soul card?”
The elder elf nodded calmly. “In this, as in many other things, you humans deprive yourselves of connection where there is no need. I am asking you to do something more dangerous than you have ever done; we may die together here. Next to that, what does it matter if you look in my eyes and see my Soul?” He leaned forward, ruby-flecked eyes offering themselves to the Crown Prince.
Gerad still looked mistrustful. “You’ll not see mine in return, elf.”
Qi’shen spread his hands. “A sharing forced is no sharing at all. Do as you will.”
He let each of us gaze down into him one by one, and I took my turn silently, trying not to feel too awkward about it.
It was the Escape ability he wanted us to see, I was sure. It put my mind more at ease, no doubt – if we got caught by a group of Orcs too big to handle during this mission, he’d be able to spirit us away before we were overwhelmed. It did make sense to share Soul cards, especially in scenarios like this, but I could help but feel as if I’d caught the fellow sporting with a lover.
Not that he’d have minded if I did; the more time I spent with them, the more I realized the elves were deeply weird about a lot of things. Not only were they totally unconcerned about undressing in front of us, but they didn’t go off by themselves to shit, either. They dropped trou wherever they were – out in the woods, at least – and expected the rest of us to continue the conversation as if nothing odd had happened. It was natural, they insisted. Why were we humans so determined to make everything shameful? It felt at times as if the elves were humoring us beknighted humans by staying fully clothed.
Regardless of the strangeness of it all, I kept reminding myself that Qi’shen had us protected as the night dragged past one dead Orc at a time. By the end, we had collected a good forty cards or more, but now a dark purple was starting to stain the eastern horizon. Qi’shen dismissed the dragonfly sniffer, gesturing us toward the perimeter of the camp. Even the most determined carousers among the Orcs had quieted down, the bonfires and dancing replaced by smoldering coals and piles of sleeping bodies heaped together like puppies. We made better time without having to dodge staggering drunks, and the tight muscles at the back of my neck began to ease as we approached the edge of the forest that would shelter us during the day when our grisly work was discovered at sunrise. The last furlong between the outermost ring of tents and the first trees was bare except for heavy-dewed grass. We let ourselves stand a little taller once we reached the clear zone – it let us move faster, and I for one was sick of crouching like a scared rabbit.
“Look, a pack of fleas has jumped off the dog,” a harsh, guttural voice said loudly. “Their host must be sick to death if they’re doing that already.”
In an instant I had my Armor and Talisman summoned and I pulled my eyepiece out of my pocket; all the others began summoning as well. Our opponent didn’t waste any time; a Spell ripped out of the trees toward us.
Everyone grunted as they weathered the damage as best they could. I let the one Ravening Hatchling I had in hand soak up the point that snuck through to me, wishing my Iron Maiden Plate had as much Resist as it had Armor.
“Stand down,” Qi’shen whispered. “Best if we just slip away. Remember what I showed you.”
We clustered together, looking into the shadowed woods anxiously for our assailant as we waited for Qi’shen’s Escape ability to activate.
Nothing happened.
A shape separated from the trees and strolled forward, its eyes glowing and legs hinging oddly. The grass rustled vigorously around it, and it was the loudest sound I’d heard in hours. I felt a chill down my spine as I realized Qi’shen’s silence aura was broken.
“It’s stopping soul effects,” I growled at the team. “Keep summoning.” Qi’shen’s eyes were wide with shock, and all the others seemed infected by his indecision, so I leaped forward, swinging my Vampiric Blade.
I felt a shock of recognition as I got close enough to see my enemy clearly. It looked familiar, its sloping, brutish face not so different from one I summoned to defend me on a regular basis. I was looking at a living Spell Drinker, its teeth bared in anticipation of the fight. It took my hit, shedding cards, and raked its talons across my Iron Maiden Plate in return. I felt the pressure of its attack straining at the edge of my defenses but not quite surpassing them. I had a Ghastly Gremlin in hand I could have sacrificed, but I was glad not to have to.
“It deals 3 damage,” I told the others as I bounced back from the attack. “Don’t use Spells; it’ll eat them and get stronger. The one I field doesn’t negate abilities, so it’s an Epic or better.”
“A flea with a brain,” the demon said, sounding impressed. “This will be fun.”
“For me, at least,” Gared grunted. He came crashing forward, his massive All-for-One Relic sword humming with the power of his full hand of 11 cards. Scratch that, 10 cards. He can’t have an 11th without his Soul ability, and none of those work right now. If I’d been tempted to jump in front of Gared – which I wasn’t – I wouldn’t have been able to; my Intervene was gone along with everything else.
“I don’t think I’ll take that,” the Spell Drinker said dryly to the charging Gared, summoning a Spell of its own.
Ky’reen shuddered and gasped as the redirected damage stripped her entire hand and pulled a few cards from her besides. Hissing in fear and shock, Qi’shen quickly devoted several Life, meaning to Heal her, but the green glow that drifted toward her zipped toward the Spell Drinker, who inhaled greedily and grew that much bigger, flexing its claws.
“No source powers,” Afi cried in frustration. “They’re Spells!”
It was an unforgivable misplay on Qi’shen’s part, but the unflappable elf seemed entirely undone by the fact that he couldn’t save us as he’d promised. He’s a support Summoner, I realized. If he can’t buff us and he can’t get us out, he doesn’t know what to do. I knew the elves worked in tandem on the battlefield, but now I was seeing the drawbacks of that method. The Spell Drinker was Qi’shen’s worst nightmare, and he wasn’t taking it well.
I drew more cards and wished bitterly I had my own Spell Drinker in hand as the demon hurled another Spell at Ky’reen.
It had apparently decided to take Ky’reen down first; her hulking werewolf form made her look far more intimidating than the rest of us. The elf girl couldn’t get her feet under her with the double onslaught of Gared’s hit and the Spell, she shuddered as more cards burst from her in shreds. She couldn’t have more than a bare handful left in her Mind Home.
Afi stepped up, sending a snakelike Soul in to harry the demon.
The Soul was beastly strong, and I watched expectantly, hoping it would take the damned thing down. Whatever we did, we needed to be quick about it and get gone – I was hearing shouts of alarm from the Orc tents.
The Spell Drinker was all burn Spells and redirects, it seemed, and it wasn’t out of tricks yet. It had 7 Nether and 1 Death, and it used its last source to take out the Nüwani.
The snake-man burst into shards of light. Qi’shen was flipping desperately through his hand, obviously lacking good options as he crouched over his ward Ky’reen. Seeing the Spell Drinker’s Nether exhausted, I knew now was my chance – I threw my Spell at it as it advanced on the cowering elves.
The demon grinned at me as the purple bolt rammed home and was followed up by the overcharge from my Talisman. It let the rest of its hand go and shed a handful from its Mind Home, uncaring. It locked eyes with me.
“You’re next,” it promised. It never wavered as it closed in on the elves.
Qi’shen had thrown himself on top of Ky’reen. “Take me,” he pleaded. “I am to blame.”
“You are,” it responded, “and I will. But first things first.”
Its powerful arms tossed Qi’shen aside, revealing Ky’reen beneath. She sprang out with animalistic rage, long talons lashing. Her buffs had worn off some time ago, but she still packed a wallop, shredding even more cards from the demon.
It wasn’t enough. It put all its refreshed Nether into its claws, and the return stroke took her last cards and tore through her abdomen like cheesecloth, flinging gore as far as the trees. Qi’shen screamed to the skies, a sound like death itself. The Spell Drinker paused to listen as if the sound were a symphony.
Then another figure burst from the trees like an avenging angel, crossing the empty space in a heartbeat and cleaving the demon’s head from its shoulders. I barely even saw it coming; I was fixed on the look of shock frozen on Ky’reen’s face, the red ruin stretching from rib to hip. She was dead. I could see it in her glassy stare. I’d be seeing it whenever I closed my eyes for a good while to come.
It took all of us a moment to realize what had happened and scramble to our feet. We were fortunate that the nearest Orcs had run away rather than join the fray, but it would be mere moments before one of their lieutenants rallied the troops and brought us a new wave of fresh hell. In the meantime, who was this?
It was a woman in rags, blonde-haired and intense of gaze. There was a subtle peak at the top of her ears that suggested there had been an elf in the mix somewhere along the way, but she looked more human than not. She carried a Relic blade as big as herself – that’s what had finally done in the Spell Drinker. She ignored the rest of us entirely as she fished the card out of the Spell Drinker’s mouth, doing exactly the same thing I’d done to my fair share of Orcs that night.
“We helped kill it,” I said. “And I use Nether.”
“Good for you,” she grunted, not looking up at me. Her voice was hoarse and gravelly, and her words sounded carefully shaped, as if she weren’t used to speaking much.
“You can’t just take everything,” I said, hefting my Vampiric Blade.
She made an annoyed sound. “Take the deck for all I care. Just stay out of my way.” She swung her enormous blade like a cleaver, taking the dead demon’s arm off at the elbow. Then she whispered a few words and jammed the demon’s Soul card into the flesh between its arm bones, wiggling it up into the gore until it was fully hidden inside the arm.
“By the Twins,” Afi said, sickened. “What are you doing?”
“Surviving,” the woman said shortly. Glancing up at me, she gave a nod as if acknowledging I’d had part in her kill. “Best do the same, the rest of you. Trouble will fall fast if you stay here.” And then she was gone, fleeing on dirty bare feet back into the trees. The sky was noticeably lighter than it had been.
“Who the hell was that?” Gerad said.
“Doesn’t matter,” I shot back. “She was right; we have to go.” I shook Qi’shen’s shoulder. He was keening over Ky’reen’s body. “Bring her, Qi’shen, but we can’t stay.”
Sobbing, he gathered the dead girl into his arms and lumbered toward the trees.
“I can’t believe she’s dead,” Afi said. “It was so quick.”
Gathering up the Spell Drinker’s head, I pointed her toward the trees. “Worry about it later. Otherwise we’ll find out what it’s like. Go!”
Gory prizes in hand, heads whirling and hearts heavy, we ran like hell.
Comments
And Then There Was None
Orcs do have far less organization, in that every individual orc has chosen to follow the army and might change its mind at any time. But yes, that was racism. They're far more than mere locusts.
iridium248
Incidentally, I think it might be worth highlighting that the ENTIRE FIGHT took less than twenty seconds and that the group only managed to get off their attacks because of the Grace of the Twins (with Nether being the fastest, giving the demon the initiative). Otherwise, it seems that they were standing around or reacting very slowly.
Chirag
Wait he is? Really? How old is Hull? How old are his siblings?
Scott Turner
Hull is the oldest so little sis, going to be funny him finding out
FiveBoxes
Yeah, he has a bunch of high cost mass elimination but his only single target damage is his souls and relic, but those have been getting in the way when it matters. He's like a one trick. Death is great for damage and can actually make use of Order's insane draw power... but with his weird obsession he might mess up OR it could make him an even more difficult opponent for Hull. A greater mountain to climb for Hull would be nice for his elevation.
iridium248
In truth, cultivating SOME Death might be helpful for Gerad. The problem with Order is that it can only be used for card-drawing, which isn't especially useful once he fills his hand.
Furious Scribe
Ah shoot, good catch. I need to double check the cards I'm using when I write! I'll clean that bit up. Thanks!
FiveBoxes
Or some sort of Soul Ability negation. A melee Mythic would probably have an extremely strong ability, even if the guy is more famous for swinging around a mountain cleaving Legendary weapon.
FiveBoxes
This demon is probably the Nether version of that annoying Charbond spell slinger. Just more experienced. And from what we see, the Death spells might just be more damaging or elimination spells, so Hull wouldn't be losing out much... though with how Gerad is acting around Death stuff he would probably take those from Hull.
iridium248
Presuming that the demon had a 7 - 3 split of Nether / Death, that's potentially 14 new cards for Hull (possibly more, since Nether seems better at direct damage). Quite a score.
Cal
I recently found your series, and have devoured the whole thing over the weekend - really cool to see them starting to fight orcs and what have you! Hoping it will help trigger Hull's Uncommon evolution
Kris Boxall
Thanks for the great chapter!
iridium248
"Animals have no God!"
Death56
Can't wait to see more nether cards
RainbowPhaze
"Treat them like animals, pests. They have no organisation, strip the land bare, and eat babies" meanwhile in the background of the chapter the Orcs are drinking and making merry after yet another day of grueling march at the *ahem* Orders of their chief this isn't a knock at the writing, its a compliment. It's nice to have evidence in the text that the racism is insidious and not well-founded without having to have a character stand up and belt out a paragraph about it
Sharrif
That was painful to read. Poor Ky’reen…
FiveBoxes
This is another reason why overkill damage on a non-Overkill attack isn't needed in war. (The girl with the big sword and high damage doesn't even have overkill damage, just guaranteed lethal. The damage doesn't multiply if it won't kill.) The Nether using boy has a bunch of negation and redirection... but his own squad is shocked that the demon enemy specializes on those tricks. Bruh. Hestorus really is expecting too much for humanity and its allies. Now Hull atleast has cards to counter Gerad heavily. That's something.
Chirag
Ooh Hull finally meets his big sister, even if he doesn't realize it yet. Edit: hope he got some good cards from the deck, and his sis makes some kind of spell absorbing gear.
iridium248
I think Hull DOES have Resist 1 on his armor - The Soul Drinker also probably does at least 4 damage, to get through his Armor 3.
Hailhound
Wow, amazing chapter. Our characters true introductions to war. The gore and the loot they’d seen before, but not the lost friends
