Orthus Nahl's Story

To Find the Light

"Come here little mousie mousie, I have something to give to you." An older man crouched down in a tunnel, trapping a rodent in the cracks of the gray stone walls. There was one torch mounted on the wall, and a seven inch long dagger was held in his hand as he looked down at his prey. His eyes, one unable to open fully with a scar across it, gazed at the animal in hunger; food was scant, even though Wiesenthal was largely agricultural. Not wanting to wait any longer, the man reached his finger out to poke out the mouse.

"Papa Orthus is hungry- Ow!" The mouse bit his finger, drawing a speck of blood. However, with the rodent's miscalculated move, it was exposed enough for Orthus to reach with the dagger; and the blade almost immediately penetrated its neck. Taking the small carcass off the dagger, he grabbed a small stick behind him, with three other small rodents on it, and added one more to it. About to take his leave, he gathered his things and took the torch off the wall.

Standing, the gray haired man proceeded down the tunnel to an exit. Each step caused a ripple in the silence that was the abandonment after the war. At some parts, the tunnel had a gap in the stone, revealing another dirt subterranean pathway under the streets of Girau. He was silent as he walked, careful not to bring too much attention to himself as the area was still contested by splinter factions of the Order of the Veil.

Orthus got to an end of the tunnel, and climbed a ladder. Using his head, Orthus pushed a covering board of wood off the entryway of the tunnels. Accordingly, he arrived at a rundown library. A metal half barrel with a small fire in it was in the corner. Pushing the wooden board over the ladder again with his foot, he continued on his way to begin roasting the mice he found.

The library was one of the biggest structures in the city, which is why it was a good place to conduct daily activities; if anyone were to come upon Orthus, he had a variety of ways he could escape if he found himself in a bind. There were large rectangular, shattered windows lining the upper parts of the wall, letting sunlight filtered by clouds into the building. Books and papers lie scattered, the front counter and researchers' desks in ruin and vacant. Large stone pillars supported the structure, and wooden walls just as tall and thirty feet wide had doorways leading to adjacent rooms out of the central one.

"Time for my friends to return a favor to me; food can be rent money too for living in my tunnels," he spoke to himself, snickering a little at his own joke.

"It helps to ease the loneliness, having someone to talk to, mousies. But, soon, you will be in my belly, and I will need to find someone new to talk to." That was the truth. If Orthus didn't talk to someone, even if they couldn't talk, he'd go insane, assuming he wasn't already.

Taking a seat on the other side of the half-barrel, Orthus let his food rest on the side of the half-barrel as he worked to build a larger fire. Soon, he would have food.

Outside, on the streets, a group of goblins walked through the city. It was as if they were looking for something, or on patrol. At the head of them was an orc, and they went and planted a red flag with a black fist at the town square. It wad the flag of their faction. Having firmly planted their flag, they took a moment to rest. That same moment, a crossbow bolt flew out from one of the surrounding buildings, impaling one of the eleven grunts. There was the roar of a boar riding orc, adorned in armor with an orange flag and green sword and shield design. Even more elementary creatures flooded the town square as an ambush was set, and the clashing would begin. With reinforcements arriving, a skirmish began in front of Girau's city hall.

Twin orbs of shattered ice gazed out across the pavillion, raking over the figures clashing below. The ambush had been well set, and the battle would not last long. The shadowy figure detached itself from beneath the eaves of a now ruined building, intent on taking advantage of the distraction while it lasted. Two smaller figures followed close behind, crouching low and sneaking from cover to cover to reach their target unnoticed. Girau was the first true city that they had come across, and their first chance to do a bit of research. The library loomed ahead of them, and they successfully reached it undetected.

The library, though once relatively modest, now struck an impressive figure, the structure nearly untouched compared to the other buildings. The Cthonic races made little use of written word, generally preferring word of mouth. Thus, the few times that something was put into writing, it was regarded with grave importance. Orcs particularly believed that there was great power in writing, and that one must not do so lightly. Though they thought the books of men were more frivolous, as they would write without regard, they were still apprehensive of it. They were particularly loathe to enter libraries. These great storehouses of written word and knowledge were often regarded with as much reverence and superstition as the abodes of even the most powerful sorcerers and mages. As such many of them survived untouched, with the Cthonic races becoming wary just being near them.

Fortunately the minions did not seem to share this idiosyncrasy, and followed close behind as he entered through a side door. The smell of rot and rust wafted off the door, the reinforced iron clearly not fairing any better than the wood itself. Fortunately it hung open already, and Luca could brush past it without forcing it to creak open. Immediately the three figures fanned out, on edge. Several of the books had been scattered on the floor, and both the front counter and research desk were ruined, with chunks of the desk missing. It was clear someone had broken off a few legs, likely the person now fueling the central fire. The fire lit up the old mans face, and Luca could see him gazing out the window with what seemed to be mild curiosity. He had several fat rats impaled on a skewer, and it was clear they were soon to be his dinner.

The two minions fanned out on automatically, sneaking to entrap the figure. Ranagyz was still utterly unfazed, his face betraying nothing as he moved without sound. Thump, though, could not suppress the rising excitement that lit up his face. Luca had been impressed so far with how silent the rambunctious minion could be, but it seemed it was not to last. He motioned to them with a flick of his hand, and immediately they paused. There was no need to entrap the man, that would simply lead the situation to immediate hostility. Instead he motioned that the two minions begin searching the books right away, while he dealt with the stranger. Ranagyz complied immediately, while Thump looked disappointed. He too obeyed though.

Luca approached the old man, crouching down near the fire to be on his level. "Darkness approaches quickly, old one. It would be wise to smother this fire. Though warm, it will alert those outside that this library is not empty. They do not like it, true, but they will still enter if there is potential food or slaves within."

Orthus Nahl

Slowly roasting the rodents over the half-barrel, Orthus noticed feet stamping in another section of the library. Unafraid of the possibilities, he simply sat and waited. It didn't sound like anything to really be concerned about. But the intruders became very quiet soon after, and it was hard to tell where they walked. He could notice the one on his left was closing on him, but then steered off and away.

"Darkness approaches quickly, old one. It would be wise to smother this fire. Though warm, it will alert those outside that this library is not empty. They do not like it, true, but they will still enter if there is potential food or slaves within."

The one directly behind him spoke. Unamused, Orthus took a bite at the head of a skinned rodent. Turning around, he found an armored man and two minions of a race he'd rather see dead.

"You shouldn't be creeping around my fire, sly one," he began to reply. "Look at what happened to the others who did." Taking another bight from his skewer, he put his food down, leaning on the walls of the half-barrel. Looking with uneven eyes at the warrior before him, Orthus studied the figure. Sometimes finding armor and weapons was easy, he wasn't sure if his new potential companion was worth anything.

"I don't particularly like your friends searching through one of my kitchens. I like friends, but I don't like ones who steal my things," the old man went on. He began to walk in a circle around Lucatiel, and observed his reaction. It was a very odd position the man was put into, more because it had been years since he had a conversation with anyone. Being trapped in Girau was a true test of sanity.

&
Orthus Nahl

Luca chuckled at the old mans threat. "You mean to skewer and eat me, old man? Well have no fear, I mean you far less harm than those rats did. I am far less tasty as well. That I promise. As for my friends here," he gestured towards the two minions, each busy scanning through the titles of the books and tomes scattered around, "You need not worry about them. We seek nothing from your kitchen but knowledge. Once we have concluded our search, we will leave you and your kitchen in peace. So long as you do not accost us that is."

The old man circled warily around Luca, observing him intently. Luca stood still, seemingly unfazed by the man. If he wished to strike, it would be as Luca turned his head, and the man was momentarily in his blind spot. Luca's arms were folded behind his back, and he casually flexed the muscles of his right hand. He could feel the magic channeling down his arm towards it, a warm current that electrified his body as it went. Luca regarded the man with an almost wry smile, his eyes glinting through his visor. His head swiveled around, to keep up with the man as he moved around behind Luca. Should he choose to attack, it would likely be now. Finely tuned reflexes would be the only thing stopping Luca from getting a dagger in his back.

"I wouldn't be lurking around here, kid. There's a lot of dangerous things," Orthus consoled. He finally stopped walking, standing in front of the man and looking right at him. Perhaps the knight before him could be trusted.

"So I can see," Luca replied, glancing out the library windows over the courtyard-come-battlefield. "Makes me wonder how you've been surviving out here on your own."

"Where do you plan on heading off to?" the old man asked, his tone hinting that he had purpose.

"That depends upon our findings here," stated the steel-clad warrior. He inclined his head toward Ranagyz, acknowledging that the minion had set aside a book which seemed promising. "Though in the immediate future, we're headed for the supreme councils treasury room. Elsewise to the Grand Basilica. Dangerous in a city so overrun, but necessary. I don't suppose you might know a more inconspicuous entrance to either of these buildings? Banging on the front door is unlikely to go unnoticed."

"I can find you a way to anywhere you want in this city. But, I want something," Orthus said, his tone becoming slightly more rushed and mysterious. He crouched, going back to the skewer he had and taking another bite. The savagery of eating rodents on a skewer like this wasn't particularly alarming to Orthus; these facts of life became normal. He quickly shuffled over to a window, and pulled himself up to see out of the glass, his feet hanging off the ground as only the upper half of the building had any windows.

"I want their captain. To start with any sort of stability in the world again..." he uttered, a bit more to himself rather than Lucatiel. Letting go of the windowsill, he dropped down and turned about face, continuing to eat his meal.

Lucatiel Maughlin

---

"It seems we have a common goal," Luca said darkly. "This world... this is no place worth living. I seek to forge a new, stable world. Or at least some small stronghold against this chaos. Perhaps we migh-"

Luca's head snapped around, cutting off the reply he was about to make to the old hermit. He froze, warily peering back towards the rear of the room, trying to pinpoint where the sound come from. No doubt the minions knew. Their ears were far better than a human's. They had already drawn their weapon, blending into the shadows. They waited for his order. He held up a hand towards the old man to indicate silence, stalking towards the door. A single sword came unsheathed, held warily aloft in his right hand. The minions fell in beside him. Alert to any threat, he was always grateful to have their superior senses alongside him. He could not match their silence, due to the armor he wore. Fortunately though the fine cloth he wore for warmth served to muffle the plates as well, and allowed to often get by unnoticed.

Now that he was in silence he could just make up muffled chatter, growing louder as they approached. Suddenly it was replaced with vicious snarling, and the sound of an ensuing scuffle. He stepped up his pace, and was soon upon the corner. Left shoulder against the wall, he peered into the narrow hallway gingerly. If they were against a party of orcs, this would be the ideal place to fight. They'd be force to approach two at a time, max, whilst the smaller minions would each be able to fight beside him. To his surprise, what he saw was a woman in brown pants and a leather jerkin, followed by, of all things, a horse! And behind her...

"NO!" he roared, spinning out from the corner. But it was too late. The hounds fled, chased away by what seemed to be some sort of beast-man. A Chethume, he corrected, when it turned to face him. "You fools! Half the orcs in this damned city will be on us with those beasts kicking up such a noise!" He wanted to strangle something. Finally, after months of travel, he'd reached a grand library, and he'd had only precious moments to comb its knowledge. Reverence of writing or no, these orcs would not hesitate to scour it in search of them. They could not hope to hold them all off. The library was lost for now. Even his search throughout the rest of the city would now be pressured, with the enemy on high alert. Thrice damned curs!

"If you wish to live," he hissed through gritted teeth, "follow me immediately. Be absolutely silent. We have no time for questions." With that he spun around, flying back into the library. Ranagyz and Thump did not need to be told what was going on, and immediately gathered what books they had set aside, stuffing them into thickly woven hemp sacks.

"You have your deal," Luca stated as he strode towards the old man. "But we most be off, with swiftness and silence. Those outside will soon be upon us. The library is no longer safe. We must go to both the Grand Basillica and the Council Treasury Room. You know the way, you choose which we go to first. When this is done, I swear on my honor that their captain shall meet his fate."

Analetta and Dapple ran ahead of the scuffle and burst into the library. She tossed a glance back over her shoulder and saw the Chethume harassing the wild hounds.

"NO!" she heard a man roar. Ana snapped her head back around. Down the throat of the narrow hallway he stood, sword in hand. "You fools! Half the orcs in this damned city will be on us with those beasts kicking up such a noise!"

The man was obviously a soldier of some kind. He held his sword with care and balance. Ana couldn’t see his body, but he was broad enough to suggest muscles. His eyes were startling in color, such a frosty shade of blue that they threatened to mesmerize her.

"If you wish to live," the man growled, "follow me immediately. Be absolutely silent. We have no time for questions."

There was something undeniably predatory about him. This man was the last person in Wiesenthal that Ana could trust. With a sudden pivot, the man rushed deeper into the library, leaving Ana in the hall alone. She looked back for the Chethume again. At the moment, Ana couldn’t see the Chethume. She could only hear the pitiful squeal of an injured dog.

Dapple tugged on the reins, ready to leave the cramped hallway and explore the wider, high-ceilinged lobbies of the Girau library. Ana crossed her fingers that the Chethume was close behind. She didn’t want to be left alone to deal with the mysterious, cold man.

Woman and horse rushed down the hallway, sighing inwardly with relief when they finally squeezed out of the narrow neck of paneled wood. Ana was shocked to see another man, one that the solider was talking to. He had the look of someone old and wise, but also carried himself with the vitality typical of a young man.

Ana sensed more activity in the room. She heard muffled thumps and finally spotted two imps packing books into a sack.

“I don’t know what we walked in on, Dapple,” Ana whispered to the frightened, skittish horse, “but I wish it was an option to just walk right back out.”

Silence. There was no more yipping or yapping of dogs, no more injured yelps. Ana kept the hallway at the corner of her eye while she watched the two strange men interact. It felt a little weak, relying so heavily on a Chethume she had met only a half an hour before.

I don’t even know his name, she thought to herself.

Analetta had a stack of mental notes to sort through. Introduce self to Chethume, find out what those little imps are, get away from the orcs (it was quickly decreasing in priority) and find out who the men are. They were obviously men of power and ambition. Like any other traveler, Ana knew that knowledge was just as likely to save you as a weapon on the roads wandered and in the cities abandoned.

We’ll stick around long enough to get to safety, and then take the highway back out of Girau. And if we’re lucky, we’ll make it far, far away.

Ana wasn’t just thinking about her and Dapple anymore.

Yelling. Oh yes, that was always a good way to go about unnoticed. Sure, cowering dogs posed a threat, but a full on scream down a hallway hardly seemed responsible. Not to mention, if the dogs were that much of a treat, Nuru would have dealt with them. After all, the Chethume could have put the last of the hounds out of their misery, but there was no point in killing the hounds. From the look in those manged eyes, these dogs didn't listen to anyone or call the orcs master. If anything, these dogs were wild and roamed as they pleased. Just like the orcs, these mutts sought blood and meat -- and orcs would make quite the meal, right? As you can imagine, to the cat-man these dogs were a valuable asset. The hounds would attack the orcs, thus delaying the grotesque beasts' approaching. Win-win, if you asked Nuru. Sadly, these others -- more humans from the scent of them -- seemed to disagree.

Not quite sure where their loyalties lied, Nuru moved to become one with the walls. Invisible to the untrained eye, his body moved without a sound. Ah, the perks of being part cat. He was a shadow stalker and a soundless walker, ideal for such dire situation. Dapple, if anyone, might be able to pick up on his presence, but there was too much fear for the horse to focus on just him. Danger lurked around every corner and who knew if the soldier and his comrade were going to keep Analetta alive. Or worse, if they kept her alive and assaulted her. Ears pressing against his skull, Nuru vowed he wouldn't let such scum defile the woman. Why, he would lay down his life if it would save Ana's body from undesired penetration. If given the chance, Nuru would reveal to Ana that he was nearby and keeping an arrow ready, should he need to save her.

A half-purr, half-mating call came from the shadows behind Ana. No words were spoken, so the cat-call would have to suffice. It was his way of saying, "I'm here, don't be alarmed." Had Analetta ever spent time with cats, she might have actually recognized the sound. It was one that was familiar with mothers and her kittens. It was the sound used to call and love the newborns. To the Chethume, this gesture was one of love and affection, a sure sign that he wasn't about to let harm come to his "kitten."

Falling back so that he could creep from the arches or doorways, Nuru took on the role of the back guard. Should anything come for them from the back, he would be ready. With Ana safely wedged in the middle, he trusted that Dapple would gather up his rider and dash to safety. Even though it would be a hard run, if he could make it to the forest, Ana might stand a fighting chance. But, from the sounds of it, these men were interested in pursuing another location. Just what were they up to? And why?

Ears peeled and ears alert, Nuru prepared himself for whatever laid in their wake.

Orthus Nahl

In every day Orthus had lived since the initial invasion, there was always some chaos to handle. The daily routine had picked up again.

Simply standing where he was, the old man looked out with one eye wide and one squinted, watching a woman mounting a horse and a Chethume come through the doors of the room, he began questioning what the best course of action would be. Luca was right in his assessment of the situation; the hounds would surely alert the creatures of dark. Hardly ever do they bark during the day for no reason. Going to the half barrel, he began stomping the fire out and eating his meal, which was somewhat raw.

"I'm just a single man trying to survive and at the first sight of other humans there's all sorts of trouble," he said out loud.

With the fire out, Orthus had to think of where to go next. The easy solution would be to go into the tunnel network many survivors had crafted over time. However, taking the opportunity to kill what orcs they could would be ideal. The tunnels were not the answer. Looking up to the windows, he began plotting. So he simply went. With unexpected agility, Orthus ran and jumped at a towering book case. Planting his foot on an empty space, he jumped up and a bit back. Staying with in arms reach, he grabbed the top of the bookshelf, and took a moment to get on top of the book case. Now the row of windows was at his height.

"So know what are you going to do?" he openly posed, projecting his voice. "You've stirred some hounds, some morphed creatures are going to be looking for you. Where do you go? I, your tour guide through hell, am going this way. The tour guide does not know about you."

It seemed Nuru didn't have a choice anymore. Stepping from the shadows, the Chethume looked over the other men that accompanied Ana and he. Brow cocked, the cat couldn't help but joke at the comment about humans. "To call me a human is a bit of an insult. I might be half human, but I certainly can't abandon my spots. Besides, I've speed unlike you humans. Still," he tugged out his bow and readied it for battle, "I will gladly aid in your pursuits. I cannot sit back and let my fellow brethren die before my eyes."

Winking at Ana, he followed behind the man. A few steps in, however, he snaked to the back of the line and decided to be the rear defense. Ears alert and listening for noises, Nuru waited for what would soon encroach on their position. In no time, they would be swarmed and flanked. Of course, Nuru had a slight upper hand. Having a ranged weapon meant he could down the first wave, thus causing a pile to stammer over and around. It would slow the foes, at least temporarily.

"If you see something, please let me know. I will drop it with my arrow and give us a moment to flee elsewhere." He said it to no one in particular, but at least he was trying to aid these humans to the best of his ability. "Horse," he said in a whispered tone, "please whinny if you sense danger. Your ears and nose might be more honed than my own. I could use the help from my animal kin."