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A Soldier's Life - 283 - The Chronologicaler (final edit 6-21-25)
🕑 Added 2024-10-24 20:26:30 +0000 UTCChapter 283: The Chronologicaler
The mud hadn’t firmed up by the morning, and the horses struggled to walk. I ordered everyone to dismount and walk them, and we fared little better than the horses, sinking to mid-calf. Baldo sat upright in his seat, confused as to why the stupid people were walking in the mud. Raelia was still disappointed in me for letting the orc boy go, and not talking to me at all.
As we had feared, the bridge was gone—swept away in the night. The broad stream we’d crossed two days before had swollen with fast moving muddy water. We were forced to remain on this side, picking our way along a treacherous slope of wet stone and tangled roots.
That’s when Mateo’s horse lost its footing. The creature slipped with a sharp cry, hooves scrambling in the slick mud before it triggered a small landslide. Rocks and soil cascaded down with it, vanishing into the brown waters below. For a long moment, I thought the horse would be lost—but it surfaced downstream, flailing, and managed to haul itself onto a gravel bank. It stood trembling, drenched and smeared with river silt, but alive.
We scrambled down to it as quickly as we dared. The horse was favoring its front leg badly. I knelt beside it, hands checking along the joint and tendons. “A sprain,” I muttered. “Deep, but no bones broken. It won’t carry weight like this.” Mateo swore under his breath.
We had a choice: burn one of our few healing potions or let the horse limp the last miles to the city and hope there was a healer with skill enough to set it right. Either way, we were slowed.
From there, it was a cautious and miserable trek back to town. The orc Auroch processing town of Dewmire had not escaped the effects of the torrential rain. A large section of the town had been washed away, and it appeared that much of their production capabilities had been impacted. We didn’t stop to help clean up the mess, instead moving onto the muddy road toward Adorechi.
A few miles down the road, the surface began to improve. With Mateo’s horse lame, we couldn’t ride fast enough to cover the last twenty miles. It turned into a long, slow journey, but late in the evening, the walls of Adorechi came into view. Square stone towers dotted the walls, but the city didn’t seem particularly impressive to me. The map stated the population was ten thousand, but the halo of farms surrounding the walls might comprise a significant portion of the city, or perhaps the Caliphate was just being generous with its census.
I knew this city had sprouted up because a dungeon was not far from the walls. If I remember correctly from my conversation with the orc healer, it was called the Silent Tunnels. It was a four-room dungeon with an interesting quirk: there was no sound anywhere. You needed to communicate effectively with your delve team without talking for success. It allowed four people to enter and was reasonably tame as dungeon monsters went. We were not planning to detour to it.
As we approached the gatehouse, a tall, tattooed orc walked out to meet us. His black hair was braided into a long ponytail. He wore soft leather armor but made sure his arms and neck prominently displayed his tattoos. His dark grey eyes narrowed at our group, and he asked something in orcish. Raelia translated, “He wants to know if we are here for the dungeon and wants to check our adventurer’s medallions.”
“Is that normal? Checking the identity of adventurers?” I asked.
“I just became an adventurer recently,” Raelia said tersely at me. She turned back to the orc. A brief conversation between Raelia and the elite orc resulted before she informed us, “He checks all adventurers entering the city. This is Warlord Drutha, and he rules Adorechi.” While making eye contact, I bowed my head slightly, a sign of respect but not deference in the Caliphate. Best not to anger the local warlord.
“Tell him we are here to escort Cleric Glasha on her expedition to look for an ancient battlefield,” I told Raelia in Elvish, but she didn’t need to translate as the Warlord barked a laugh and spat on the ground.
“Wasting her time, that one. Been ten years, and she hasn’t found a trace of the Last Battle.” He waved dismissively at us, his curiosity satisfied without even confirming our identity. He turned his back on us as he entered the gates and climbed the stone steps to a tower. Two guards approached us to check and log our medallions before we were allowed to enter the city.
Blaze whispered, “Why was the city lord out here to greet us?” He had caught enough of the conversation to pick up that Warlord Drutha ruled Adorechi.
“Maybe he can’t stand his wife and kids and is just trying to get away for a bit,” Mateo offered in good humor. “That is what my dad would do when he had a spat with my mother, or I was being particularly difficult.”
I ignored Mateo’s comment, and my thoughts shifted to the Cleric and the job. “We will see if the Cleric can heal Mateo’s mount. If not, we’ll see to getting him healed. Raelia, get directions to the Adventurer’s Guild.” After a brief conversation with the guards, Raelia obtained directions through the small city.
As we walked through the city, it felt much simpler and smaller than other cities. The absence of a sewer system left the city with a lingering scent of waste. The buildings were predominantly wooden but varied in condition from poor to new. Several structures were under renovation. The most disconcerting aspect was that only orcs walked the streets. We didn’t see humans or other races about. The orcs considered themselves superior to other races, yet they allowed free trade in the Caliphate. Was there something different about this city?
The Adventurer’s Hall was one of the rare stone buildings in the city, and once we had the horses settled and they received their apple bonus for getting us here safely, we entered. A pungent scent assaulted us, a strong skunk smell. “Benito started sneezing uncontrollably. “Ugh, what is that! It reminds me of the time I tried to capture a skunk. I smelled like that for a month.”
I recalled the orc cleric saying something about the dungeon taking away your hearing and assaulting your other senses with its creatures. I tried to remember the dozens of rooms in various dungeons we had talked about. “I think it is from a dungeon creature—a type of giant stink beetle.” Benito grunted and got his sneezing fit under control.
We received many curious looks from the occupants of the hall, most of which were directed at Baldo. Almost everyone in the common room was an orc, except for two humans playing a card game at one table and a lone elf brooding alone in a dark cloak at another. I nodded to Raelia to go talk to the elf while I approached the clerk. She frowned, but moved to obey with Baldo happily following her.
The wrinkly old orc clerk was missing a tusk, but there was a hint of her past athleticism in her movements. She didn’t speak Elvish or Telhian, so I handed her the job posting. She read it and called over a younger orc who rushed out of the hall. I think he was going to get the Cleric for us.
I then spent a few minutes miming that we had finished the other task and wrote a note for the baker about the fate of his parents. I just mentioned they had succumbed to disease or poison in their food, and the locals burned their bodies. Finished, the old clerk dismissed me with a wave of her hand. I went to sit with Raelia and the elf to wait.
Raelia introduced the demure elf, some of her annoyance gone. He was wearing loose clothes under his cloak and clearly resting. “This is Kaeryn Chaeven. He has been delving into the dungeon with his group over there.” Raelia indicated the two humans and three orcs playing cards.
“Eryk Marco of Fortuna’s Chosen,” I introduced myself, offering to shake wrists, which he did. His forearm with thin and lacked grip strength, so I assumed he was a mage.
He arched his eyebrow at Raelia, “Traveling with a Telhian?” There was a lot of implication in his words.
Raelia narrowed her eyes at the elf, her voice sharp with conviction. “He’s no Telhian—and he’s one of the finest warriors this continent has seen. More than that, he’s a good man. His principles run deeper than most, but overshadow his ignorance.” I think she just defended me and flushed when I made eye contact with her.
After the awkward eye contact with Raelia, I questioned the elf. “Why are there so few non-orcs in the city?”
Kaeryn grinned, “Because there is nothing here but a little shitty dungeon. And I mean that literally. The floor of the third room is covered in bat shit.” He toasted me with his mug and drank.
“Then why are you here?” I asked.
“We are escorting him,” he pointed at one of the orcs playing cards. “Torgan Baneshield, son of some warlord, and trying to prove his worth to his father. We are taking him through the twelve dungeons in the Caliphate so he can petition the Supreme Cleric to delve into the Warlord Dungeon.”
“I heard the local dungeon is not that difficult. Why are you still here?” my tone was inquisitive. The elf drank and seemed to decide he liked me well enough to answer.
“We have completed it three times. Torgan needs some seasoning, and we are working on our teamwork.” He grinned, “Also, the final chamber usually gives a major essence in the reward chest. It is about the only thing worthwhile in this city.”
I nodded, pretending to be impressed. I had to remember essences were rare, and collectors were even rarer outside the Telhian Empire. The messenger the old clerk sent had returned, and following was a light green-skinned orc with brilliant red hair. I guessed it had to be dyed as I had not seen any other orcs matching the flaming colors.
“Our charge has arrived,” I said, excusing Raelia and me from the elf’s company.
I caught the Cleric's attention and motioned her to a large table in the corner. I got Blaze’s attention, and he rounded up the others who were playing darts with two orcs—or a version of darts as the target was not what I knew. I think Benito had money on the game, as he grudgingly handed over a large copper when he was called away.
As we sat around the table, I studied Glasha. She was on the younger side, but maybe she kept herself young with magic. The warlord had mentioned she had been searching for a decade. Her fiery-colored hair was messily braided, with strands sticking out, and she wore worn leather clothes, reminiscent of pre-colonial American Indians from Earth. “Are you Glasha?” I asked in Elvish to confirm.
“I can speak Telhian,” she responded in amusement as she looked our group over. “I can speak nineteen different tongues and read most of them. Yes, I am Cleric Glasha Mistborn. Which one of you has the earth magic?” She continued eagerly.
“That would be me,” I admitted.
She looked surprised. “What spells and what range can you sense?” she asked, but her expression showed doubt, perhaps because I dressed more like a warrior than a mage.
“Earth speak. And out to about twenty-five feet,” I responded. Her face lit up as her eyes showed she was in deep thought and excited. I had shortened the distance to someone with an earth affinity around 33 rather than revealing my true ability.
“Much better than I expected,” she mumbled to herself. To our group, she said, “The contract begins when we leave Adorechi. I would like to leave tomorrow.”
I hedged her enthusiasm. “We have a lame horse that needs tending, and we are curious about what exactly you are looking for and what dangers we might need to prepare for.”
She waved her hands unconcernedly. “I have some minor healing spells if the injury isn’t grave. As for dangers, there are a few: wild bull Aurochs are aggressive, and then there are giant vultures, but they wouldn’t attack a large group, and there have been reports of a basilisk from the nomads traveling through the area.”
“Is that all?” I replied sarcastically. Basilisks were eight-legged lizards. Surprisingly, they were not fast with their eight legs and relied on their magical gaze to petrify man and beast alike. Once frozen in the gaze of a basilisk, you were as good as dead, turning to stone in ten heartbeats. The basilisk would consume their sculpture, turning the statue back into flesh within its stomach. The only way to return a companion to the flesh was an alchemical potion brewed from the beast’s stomach acid. I did not have the alchemy recipe for that brew.
The cleric dismissed my concerns with a shake of her head, her red braids swaying with the motion, “The area we are searching is mostly grassland. We will be able to see anything coming long before it reaches us.”
I didn’t like her nonchalance to danger. “You still have not told me what we are looking for and why you have found no trace in ten years of searching.”
Excitement lit up her eyes. “The final battle between the orcs and titans. Althoug,h between you and me, theOorcs were joined by humans, elves, and dwarves alike. It broke the chains of our oppressors and pushed the titans into hiding, and they never recovered.”
“How do you know the battle was fought here? It is a big planet,” Blaze questioned the cleric.
She sat up straighter as she lectured us animatedly. “True, true. And the battle was fought over five thousand years ago as well. I have traveled to the libraries in Esenhem, Keisinia, and Tegairosia, reviewing ancient scrolls and tomes. Unfortunately, only the elves preserved their books well against time. I am certain the battle took place on this peninsula. I am gradually narrowing down likely terrain features that match vague accounts in books and songs. I am just looking for ancient weapons of the titans buried with time.”
I could have inquired if she was aware of the Atlantium ruins being uncovered near Macha, but I didn’t want to stir that pot at the moment. “To what end? What good will finding the location of the last battle serve?” I asked. Blaze nodded at my question.
“I am a Chronologicaler. I record the history of the Boutan Caliphate for those who come after me. But what of what came before? What can we learn from past heroes and fallen kingdoms? Maybe one day we will be in the place of the Titans, fighting for our survival.”
“If you don’t learn from history, you are doomed to repeat it,” I replied.
“Oh! I like that! Can I use it in my next writing?” Glasha said excitedly.
“Fine,” I shook my head disinterestedly. Another scholar out for knowledge’s sake. Maybe I could put her in contact with Flavian? I wondered how the old man was doing after Caelora. “Mateo, show her your horse. If Glasha can heal it, we will depart in the morning.” I paid for everyone’s rooms and secured my own before getting a few hours of practice in the dreamscape.
The following morning, we gathered outside the Adventurer’s Hall. Glasha was riding a stout white pony bareback. I noticed Adorechi’s Warlord watching our departure from one of the gate towers. His scrutiny was disconcerting, but at least we had no plans to ever return to this city. The place we were searching was fifteen miles north over wild terrain, and I hoped this would be a quick and uneventful expedition.
Comments
Brianna Stormcloud
'I hoped this would be a quick and uneventful expedition'.... he really likes to jinx himself 📖🍿
Michael Neal
I dont think it's going to be a quick and uneventful expedition
Erick Thiemke
edited
Erick Thiemke
corrected
HappyNoms
"We would either have to use a precious healing potion on it..." They've been free of the draconian Tehlian constraints on acquiring healing potions for a while, through multiple cities, and Eryk has ready foreign market access to stockpile an arbitrary number of them. It should have been one of the first things he did, realistically. I think the constraint is fine, it could just perhaps use a mild retcon or tweak for why potion availability is limited worldwide. It was convenient earlier to have potions more available elsewhere to highlight Tehlian oppression/corruption and an authoritarian grip, but now that the party are elsewhere, it's become an inconvenient prior world building detail.
Andrew Crews
Once frozen in the gaze of a basilisk, you were as good as dead [❌ missing punctuation; needs a comma or dash for clarity] turning to stone in ten heartbeats [❌ awkward phrasing; “turning to stone” should be better integrated]. Edited Version: Once frozen in the gaze of a basilisk, you were as good as dead—turning to stone in ten heartbeats.
Andrew Crews
She asked, but her expression was skeptical [❌ “skeptical” describes a state of mind, not an expression—consider “skeptical” modifying “she was” or rewording] maybe because I dressed more like a warrior than a mage. Edited Version: She asked, but her expression was doubtful—maybe because I dressed more like a warrior than a mage.
Andrew Crews
I had to remember essences were rare, and collectors were rarer [❌ awkward phrasing; “rarer” sounds unnatural here—consider rewording] outside the Telhian Empire. Edited Version: I had to remember that essences were rare, and collectors were even rarer outside the Telhian Empire.
Andrew Crews
The most disconcerting point was there were [❌ awkward phrasing; consider “that there were”] only orcs in sight. We didn’t see humans or other races walking the streets. The orcs thought themselves superior to the other races, but they were allowed to trade freely in the Caliphate. [❌ Confusing—there’s no clear connection between their superiority and their ability to trade. Is something missing?] Was there something different about this city?” The most disconcerting point was that there were only orcs in sight. We didn’t see humans or other races walking the streets. The orcs thought themselves superior to other races, yet they were usually willing to trade with them in the Caliphate. So why was this city different?
Caledon Smith
I’ll ask this again when I catch up, but why is Eyrk not trying to learn the orc language? At worst he could have the copy of the elf help him, but it sounded like he could have made a copy of the friendly orc healer to assist and now he could get this orc with 18 languages to help him learn. With a resource like the amulet it just seems like something he would be doing even if it was just a little each time
Erick Thiemke
corrected
Erick Thiemke
corrected
Erick Thiemke
corrected
Erick Thiemke
correcting
Erick Thiemke
correcting
Leonard Loo
“I can speak Telhian,” she responded in AMUSEMENT.
Steven Savage
Right? I had to read that over a few times. Raven hair means black but she's introduced as having bright red hair.
Jordan
Haha. Love this comment
Lemes
First the cleric is described as a light green-skinned orc with brilliant red hair, then later it is described as "Her raven hair was messily braided". What is the real color of her hair?
incognito
Thank you
Silver Beard
That's what his space is for; certainly what he's been using it as- hidden repository.
Eriach
I agree
Eriach
She couldn't have dyed it red?
NightRider
I hope the battlefield was well looted of all titan artefacts, otherwise Eryk’s team will have to be silenced by the orc warlord, to keep the the discoveries quiet and available only to the orcs. If it isn’t, maybe the orc cleric will have a “fatal accident” by meeting a basilisk and her stone statue shattering into a thousand pieces. Eryk will have to be fairly cautious in his dealings and discoveries with the cleric.
Kbzzy
The warlord has been searching for a decade and never found anything. She also doesn’t know the real range of his earth speak so he can very easily lie to her and say there’s nothing there and just store things in his dimensional storage.
PatronTurtle
Why would Eryk jinx them like that? Never end a chapter on a challenge to the universe
Nicholas Ramage
Brilliant RED Hair = Raven Hair ?
Ivan Kanewske
A just mentioned they had succumbed to disease and the locals burned their bodies A just mentioned A to I
Jordan
She sat taller as she lectured us. “Ture, true. Ture -> True
Jordan
“I can speak Telhian,” she responded in the amused. “In the amused” doesn’t make sense.
Kbzzy
Same! Sneaky storage spell on a buried weapon for later
Nick Nicholson
Store what in his dimensional space? The relics? The whole point is to locate them for the orc cleric. Can’t complete the mission if he hides them. Also, the warlord would hide until the relics are discovered. Why would he hide the relics if he doesn’t know the warlord is planning something.
Kyle Cunnane
He can just store them in dimensional space no?
Nick Nicholson
Who else thinks the warlord will be ready to pull some shit if they find any relics?
daniel dantas
I smell an extremely strong odor of good loot, maybe mc will get some relic from the age of the titans, of course, the way our mc is, obviously at least 1 titan will be there alive hibernating and when he wakes up and causes chaos, he will change the local geopolitics with the discovery of a new ruin, mc being mc
M van Dongen
Uhoh.... Foreshadowing.......
Andrew
Thank you!
Erick Thiemke
4th of 4 for last cycle. Working on next chapter now
