Caleb's Journey

United

On the dry, desolate Yoli plains Skarlarth urged his mount onward. The broad shouldered beast, an evark, possessed matted brown fur, curled horns, stood some fifteen feet in height, and was spurred onward towards its destination by the harsh words of its rider. Teetant, as was its name, endured a barrage of berating by his master being called a stupid beast, a lumbering oaf, and suffered to have its hide pounded by the fists, striking it with mallet like blows, on its thick hide. Ogres found that evarks made fine mounts for their carrying capacity, unflinching steadfastness in combat, and their powerful limbs which make them excellent for plowing rough terrain. However, one adjective that no rider has ever used to describe the plodding creature is the word fast. Still, few animals combined the strength and size to carry ogres and their accoutrement so evarks, by default, serve as mounts of the ogres.

Segtui was the first chieftain to visit on Skarlarth’s military pilgrimage. His soon to be host ruled a clan only slightly smaller than his own and bitter enmity existed betwixt the two of them. While Skarlarth had risen from obscurity to rule, Segtui’s family had ruled their clan for decades as his grandfather, Segtula, had conquered another ogre chieftain, Mongxe, and had won for them the most fertile patch of land in the Gilloy Mountains. Streams flowed freely from the snow that melted from off of the mountains when the weather grew warmer and the streams all ran into a single large lake, Lake Lenvo, which served as an excellent font from which to maintain myriad life forms.

Such abundance in a dearth of natural resources allowed the tribe to flourish in comparison to their brethren. In fact they were the first tribe to begin to move beyond their kinds’ nomadic lifestyle and subsistence living that had previously kept the ogre race scatted, weak, angry, and violent. It is fair to say that many of their kind felt frustrated with their meager lot in life compared to the other species. Seqtui’s tribe focused on farming and the development of beasts of burden to aid in planting and harvesting, breeding livestock for plentiful food stores, all while maintaining the necessary martial skill to fend off attacks from the other denizens of the region, mostly the envious other tribes.

The strength of Segtui’s tribe stemmed from their numerical superiority, created by their comparatively excellent environment in relation to their kinsman. However, this previously enjoyed strength in numeric advantage had been removed by Skarlarth’s conquests. Through his military successes, his ranks swelled through absorption of defeated tribes to exceed those of Segtui. The battles had another effect in that Skarlarth had a core of grizzled and hardened veterans who were loyal to him for both the plunder they received from conquering their neighbors to trusting in their leader’s tactical abilities. Ever hungry for blood and conquest, it was only a matter of time before he marched on his now militarily inferior, wealthier rival. Skarlarth was convinced that he could scare Segtui into joining him. He settled that matter in his mind, “join my fight or my tribe will attack you.” Thoughts of cowing his nemesis into obeisance put a large, teeth everywhere grin on his face and he laughed aloud to himself.

Defying the idea of coming into another tribe’s land alone constituted a risky proposition, after riding for several days, Skarlarth arrived at the base of the Tygin River. That body of water flowed from Lake Lenvo and Skarlarth was eager to face any guards that Segtui had placed near the edge of his borders. Instead of finding battle ready warriors, he happened upon a group of younglings playing in the river. Some wrestled in the waters, some swam freely, and others laid about lazily on the shore, letting the warm sun radiate on their bodies. Every one of these sights filled him with enmity and he dug his boots into his steed to give vent to that emotion. “Enjoy that river while you can, brats, because I will take it soon.” It wasn’t long before the junior ogres noticed the beast and its rider. “Who are you?” one of them shouted. The others stopped whatever they were doing to examine Skarlarth.

“

Boy, I am Skarlarth, King of the Tribes of Terran. Fetch me Segtui,” he uttered in a haughty tone, like a monarch ordering about his page.

Dripping wet the adolescents collectively stared at the menacing warrior. Each of them filled with dread upon hearing his name, for he was feared throughout all of the tribes for his savage and intemperate nature. Skarlarth dismounted from Teetan, led it to the water to drink and then he made himself comfortable on the riverbank. “I have no time and no patience!” he barked. Then he pointed his index finger at one of the boys, the tallest, who was previously

wrestling in the water and somewhat covered in mud. “You,” he roared.

“

M-m-m-me?” the lad questioned.

The intemperate ogre picked up a large rock and hurled it at the young ogre, missing deliberately, but having it sail close enough to the potential victim that there could be no doubt in the lad’s mind that it was indeed he whom Skarlarth had selected. The youth nodded and ran away as quickly as possible, happy to extricate himself from his present position. His feet carried him towards the camp and to his home where he disclosed everything to his parents.

Meanwhile, the other younglings, after watching their friend make a hasty retreat stood silently, one might say frozen, unable to move. For his part, the hulking menace did not discourage them. Instead he drank in the awe and fear that he inspired. His demeanor dared any of them to speak to him and he took a perverse satisfaction to play the part of a jailer and keep them in their present state, some in the water, shivering and those upon the shore incapacitated lest he loose his anger and mallet upon them.

Whilst the prisoners languished, Hevge, the lad chosen to seek out Segtui, ran as fast as his legs would carry his lanky form. Arriving at the family hut in an agitated state, he relayed the news to his father that Skarlarth had come alone to demand an audience with Segtui and was on the riverbed even now awaiting that outcome. He also told his father that the other ogre children were transfixed with horror by the visiting juggernaut. Gyga, Hevge’s father seemed puzzled as to why Skarlarth would come alone and also how Segtui’s scouts had not discovered him before he was deep in the camp. None of that mattered now. What needed to be done was to reach the home of their lord, Segtui, and convince his guards to let them enter the chieftain’s palace.

Sprinting sided by side, past the rows and rows of one room huts that served as the tribes’ homes, past the shops, past the newly formed market center, past every meager semblance of a more advanced civilization, they raced. Their course continued until they reached the heart of the town. At the center of the wheel of this tribe, the palace served in the capacity of the hub and stronghold, from which all things emanated.

As for the palace, the outer walls were created of a grayish brown brick made of a baked mud on the outside, filled with dirt in the middle, and finished with another brick wall on the interior. The abode stood some fifty feet in height. On each of the four rounded corners it had turrets that served as lookout posts and as defensive devices, with hardened timber spikes protruding from them so as to confound siege ladders, a common article for attacking a stronghold. Each turret had four guards stationed on it, clad in light hide armor and armed with a spear and a shield. Richly painted on the massive walls were scenes of battles won by this tribe, a reminder to all who beheld it of the splendor and power of their sovereign. Lastly, a thick wooden gate, reinforced with iron keep out invaders and in front of it stood two menacing guards, selected for their fierce, unwelcoming appearance as much as they were chosen for their martial prowess.

It was towards these two hulks that the duo raced, their lungs burning as they pushed themselves to reach their destination as quickly as possible, for the coming alone of a warlord so great was an uncommon event. Usually, emissaries were sent, never the chieftain. Huffing and puffing as they arrived, father and son were told to halt by one of the guards who pointed the sharpened tip of his battle axe at them to make sure that they complied with his order. It was the father who spoke, as he caught his breath.

“

Skarlarth is here, alone, by the river bed.”

“

Alone? Here? What did he say he wanted?” Asked the guard.

“

He told my boy to fetch Segtui to see him.”

“

Hortian,” the guard turned to his compatriot, “get the captain of the guards.”

The aforementioned guard wheeled about, gave the order for the gate to be raised, and when it was high enough for him to pass, he entered the palace grounds to seek out his commander. While this little jaunt was occurring, Talah, the guard the father and son first met, eyed them menacingly, and told them that they’d better not be lying. Both swore by Burghul, an ancient ogre whose spirit was thought to be roaming Mithkre.

In a very short span of time the captain of the guard emerged. Stout, even for an ogre, he came lumbering towards the duo. He look

ed more like a stuffed sausage then a fierce warrior, he was so corpulent. “Raise the gates,” he bellowed with his deep, sonorous voice and the guards raised the gates with great rapidity. “This way,” he point to father and son, “follow me.” All three marched past the well kept courtyard and into the palace.

Once inside, the duo marveled at the sight they beheld with their eyes. It was a visual feast, the likes of which they had never witnessed since it was rare that any ogre was admitted to the palace. They noted the richly painted walls adorned with animal hides and weapons, both of which hung said walls. Instead of the straw floor upon which they slept these floors were made of black marble with gold inlays, a testament to the wealth of the tribe. As they marched further down the hall to the throne room they marked rugs of rich, colored cloth hanging on walls. To ogres who lived in a one room home

, they felt overwhelmed by the splendor, but proud as well, for it meant they had a wealthy lord to protect and represent them.

Ending in a great arch, they passed through the hallway and into the throne room of their chief, Segtui. His highness sat placidly upon his throne, an ivory construct, evincing less concern about the situation than anyone else. Like other ogre males he measured 9-10 feet in height, had gray skin, black hair, and deep set eyes. What made him stand out was that he wore a red sash draped over his torso and equally red trunks, all made of rich cloth. His finery extended to the gold necklace and rings that he wore. While he had a similar, but lesser degree of a muscular nature than Skarlarth, his look was more that of a merchant than a warrior. Deebok, the captain of the guard, ordered the child to step forth. “Speak,” said Segtui, “tell us of this threat to our nation.”

Hevge did as he was ordered by his sovereign, bowing in obeisance. “Highness, he appeared at the end of the riverbed where my friends and I were at play. He is very large and carries a mallet and we were very scared. He told me to fetch you to him.”

“

Fetch me, the leader of this nation, and come to him. Come to him as commanded by an interloper in my kingdom?” Segtui’s face flushed with anger. He was nothing, if not vain. Now, instead of his languid demeanor, his eyes flashed and he was enraged. As he attempted to rise from his throne, Degda, his advisor spoke.

“

Patience, please, your majesty. If the scourge of all of the ogre tribes came alone, it must mean something grand. Better to meet him alone and hear what he has to say than to face his army.”

“

Wise council as always, Degda. I will meet him on the river bed. Deebok, prepare my personal guards and our mounts. We’ll see what Skarlarth wants and if we don’t like it, we’ll leave him dead on the river bed to rot in the sun.”

Deebok bowed his head, left the room through a side arch and his voice echoed down the hallway. “Elite guards to the throne room! Elite guards to the throne room! Your king commands it!” Soon after he gave utterance to his command, the sound of rapid paced footsteps resounded from every hallway, one in each direction that flowed into the throne room. In a flash, twenty-four heavily armed ogres came running into the throne room. Each of them had a broad sword with a curved blade with a spiked grip at their side, a thick coat of hide armor, a spiked, hide cap and a shield of hardened oak fastened together with iron bands. They assembled before their liege in two equally numbered columns and stood bolt upright awaiting his orders. Deebok quickly briefed the group on the situation and had Hevge fill in the blanks.

Segtui rose from his throne and thanked both the father and the son for their efforts. He gave them a royal nod of approval and then the traditional strong forearm grip and eye contact. He ordered that they both be given a golden goblet for their service and sent them on their way home. Then, the monarch rose from his throne, stood behind his personal guard, motioned for Deebok to stand beside him and ordered that they collectively march to meet their unexpected guest.

In the meantime, Skarlarth had told all of the children to leave. To say he did it kindly would be untrue, for he flashed his fangs at them and shouted, “Get out of my sight”. All of them beat a hasty retreat. It would put just enough fear in all of them and give him time to compose himself before the entourage arrived. Solitary on the soft, warm sand of the beach, he laid down in a languid fashion with his arms folded behind his head to bask in the sunlight as his mount went to the riverbed to drink.

Erelong he got his wish for Segtui’s palace was but a few miles away from the river and the homes of his subjects who gained their sustenance from the water’s bounty. Skarlarth, despite his outward appearance of ease, remained vigilant for the coming of any group. Thus, when Segtui and his military detachment arrived, he rose to meet them and was the first to speak.

“

Segtui, I come to speak to you. I come in peace.”

“

Talk of peace from the bloodthirsty scourge of our kind?” Segtui countered with angry sarcasm.

“

I win many wars that true. I now have biggest ogre army and you fear that your tribe will fall to me. I have other offer.”

“

When you come alone, I have no reason to fear you,” Segtui dryly replied.

This comment elicited a chorus of laughter from everyone save the target of the remark. He simply smiled and endured the laughter because he had bigger plans, but inside he stored that comment for retaliation at a later day.

Skarlarth continued speaking, “I bring big news, very big. I come to make offer of alliance against the ’umans. No more killing each other. We now kill ’umans.”

Segtui liked the idea of not having to fear Skarlath, but he liked the suggestion of attacking the humans even less. “I think you had too much grog before you got here.”

“

I’m not drunk. I have new, powerful friends.” Skarlarth remarked with supreme satisfaction.

“

And who might these friends be?” Segtui inquired.

Skarlarth knew he only need mention one name, “Xerax.” He answered. Now he folded his arms and his countenance changed to a smug look of satisfaction.

That his rival would traverse borders alone, and make an offer with the backing of the Lord of the Undead certainly intrigued Segtui. He had a bright mind and a greedy nature, just enough of a greedy nature to entertain such an offer. Like every ogre he hated humans and saw them as oppressors. His enmity for Skarlarth got trumped by the notion of war beside instead of against Skarlarth. Otherwise, he would have slain him and negotiated a deal with Trogdon whom he saw as weaker and more apt to avoid bloodshed. Still, the idea of killing Skarlarth and leaving his corpse to rot on the beach put a smile on his voice and a pleasing tone in his voice, “Xerax is indeed legendary and powerful, but he has no armies. We only know of him and what we know is more like tales to tell children than to use as a basis for attacking the humans. The humans have a mighty stronghold in Attalis and great numbers for their armies. It’s certain death.”

“

So is going against me,” Skarlarth remarked. “I want friend, not fight. Xerax promise big army to join us. He hates ’umans as much as we. Join us.”

“

You arrogant dog,” Segtui said. This is an affront to me. You say you come in peace then threaten me with war?”

“

I kill for your insult, but not if you want to help kill ’umans. Together we are strong.” Here he extended his hand as a peace offering and Segtui gripped his forearm and the alliance was sealed. Although Segtui viewed Skarlarth as an inarticulate buffoon who was favored by someone for some reason and he would just as soon have him taken captive and subjected to an arduous, torture filled death, which he was imagining when they locked grips, he knew that Skarlarth had a great ally so he smiled instead and looked forward to the day when he could exact revenge against Skarlarth for entering his lands like a conquering lord. Little did Skarlarth know that the enthusiastic smile on Segtui’s face formed from hatred of Segtui’s new ally, not kindness as he might suppose.

“

We march in thirty days and meet at Yord’s Gulch,” Skarlarth said. His closing remarks made, Skarlarth marched over to Teetan and he mounted his faithful, shaggy steed.

“

My army will be ready,” Segtui remarked with pride. “See you then, friend.” It pained him to say it, but he wanted to frame his language to allay any suspicions that his rival might have regarding his future intentions. “Brother in arms, we will win. Please, stay. It would honor me if you would stay the night in my palace and feast with us for this alliance is cause for celebration.

Skarlarth raised his mallet and shouted, “To conquest!” Then he came down from his saddle and agreed to stay the night. “I stay and dine. Lead me to your castle.”

Skarlarth retrieved Teetan and followed his new ally back to his palace. Skarlarth noted that it looked immensely grand compared to his large cave, even something modeled after the humans and it burned him to his core. He imagined crushing the stronghold and keeping it for himself. Instead, the two kings and Deebok spent the night consuming great quantities of grog, dined on various forms of meats and vegetables and outlined their plans for conquest.