The Wordbearer Chronicles

Chapter 3

I can see the gate of Nodkis from the back of the herb cart, where I have been relegated to full time apothecary duties. This suits me just fine. Healers were dispatched from the capitol of Ark Aegion and now bolster the medic division, allowing me to do what I'm good at: work alone.

The siege has resumed. Reinforcements arrived two days prior and, now that the men have been organized and the lieutenants briefed, the short-lived respite from the false start is ended.

Nodkis is not a well-fortified city by any means; just a squat, stone perimeter with wooden gates. The fighting is intense. There are near-constant cries of anguish in the direction of the city. Battering rams are taken up to the doors in between volleys of fire pitched arrows from the goblins on the battlements.

The Buknar Valley, which cradles Nodkis, has woods in the north which are home to a hardy species of pine. Naturally resistant to fire and acid, it is favored further for its resiliency to breaking. Any archer worth his word carries a bow carved from the pines, and it is a wise and rich man who stores his valuables in such a chest. Unfortunately the gate is made from Buknar pine as well. That fact, along with the Elysian forces trying to damage as little of their home as possible, means that it is slow going.

More than a few orcs leap down to slaughter troops outside the relative safety of the city. After growing bored of dispatching climbers using ropes or ladders to ascend the wall, I suppose their battle prowess just couldn't wait to be put to task. The orcs that literally leap into battle this way are overpowered eventually, but not before eviscerating more than their fair share. From the reactions on the wall, they are to be celebrated.

On the third day, while mixing a batch of antitoxin—the hordes are indeed using poisons—I am disturbed by a soldier from one of the scouting platoons. He introduces himself as Corporal Level.

Corporal Level looks as though he hasn't slept in a week but maintains a friendly demeanor. A human in either his late twenties or early thirties, he is about the most average looking man I've ever set eyes on. He has the kind of face you are positive you've seen before but can't quite put your finger on where. Average height, average build, average haircut that is average brown in color. I'm looking right at him and can barely recall what he looks like. Any attempts to describe him to another would undoubtedly involve a lot of shrugging and the words 'sort of'.

"My my, you are a big one! I don't suppose I could bother you to come and have a look down at the stockade. Picked up this orc that says you can vouch that he's not with the enemy." Curious.

Inwardly I am perplexed by this—I cannot think of anyone who would need me to vouch for them who would not have dozens of other, less-dubious acquaintances to call upon. I am not well-regarded in town and I spend nearly all my time alone. About the only exceptions are when I patronize the temple of Ard Agdawn or watch people in the square, but even in the company of others I am isolated. When I get a drink at the tavern I find the less rowdy establishments and sit alone in the back. Could it be an orcish spy? Perhaps one saw me escape the city and is betting on my appearance that I might be amiable to his cause, or at least his compensation. Wars can be very profitable if one is willing to play both sides. Maybe he thinks I am also a spy. It's not unheard of for humans to be accepted into an orc tribe—one just needs to prove one's strength and remain strong, I hear.

Outwardly I show no reaction. I am not in the habit of giving up what is mine—especially not my tells or what I am thinking—to someone I do not trust. And I do not trust anyone. It's foolish, at best. Strong men will save themselves, noble men will break vows, and smart men will tell all when fear of death grips them. No matter the man, he has a breaking point where he will betray even his own self to survive. Much lower on that scale is to betray others. I'd rather no one had the opportunity to betray me. Again.