Chapter Thirteen: Inconsistencies

Chapter Thirteen: Inconsistencies

Tom watched as the orcs approached. Three things became instantly apparent: it was a full warband, they would be on them in minutes, and they were most definitely different from the orcs in the Deep.

He watched through Sus and Sol as the thirty or so orcs strolled closer. The sight of them itched at him.

The orcs in the Deep could fit into three broad categories: regular orcs, Idealists, and the chieftains, with the Smith being a special exception. The regular orcs were all taller than the average human, though their postures often made them seem roughly the same height. They were thinner than most humans, though that was deceptive too. Their corded muscles also made them comfortably stronger than any non-Idealised human.

Idealist orcs flipped the script. They were taller and broader and stronger again than their non-Idealised fellows, and physically superior to Idealist humans. The chieftains were exemplars of their kind: the biggest and meanest orcs in the horde, a half-step between their Idealists and the Smith.

The orcs prowling towards them now were all the size of chieftains. They towered above the grass, chests and shoulders effortlessly clearing the tops of the stalks. And yet, they werent chieftains.

Tom was unsure how he knew, but he was certain. All the chieftains hed seen before had a certain kind of gravity to them, a peculiar foul charisma that these orcs lacked despite their prodigious size.

The inconsistencies didnt end there, either. Tom had come to associate all orc encounters with wild, unrestrained noise. Always, they came on savage and quick, baying their hatred to the heavens with wild abandon.

They roared and they ran. They sprinted and snarled. They barked, bayed, bolted and bounded. They were a tempest, coming chaotically, always full and overflowing with base, primal, unrestrained ferocity.

But these orcs appeared to be in no rush. They were all merely walking at a steady, even pace. They werent howling. They werent barking. They werent jostling at each other, desperate to be the first to draw blood.

Tom would have almost believed they didnt know they were there, but they were trained unerringly at their position. Indeed, as he watched, one growled and shucked their head upwards at Sus and Sol, wheeling lazily above them. An orc that might have been the leader gave a low rumble, pointing directly at where Tom and his party were on the road.

Tom revised his estimate of how much time they had. If the orcs continued at their leisurely pace, they might have as much as five minutes. It still wouldnt be enough. Eli was still unconscious. He would need time for his body to heal fully.

Tom wrenched his attention back to the group. Meri was staring at him, cheeks drawn tight under wide eyes. Tom gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look and gripped her shoulder.

Well get through this, he told her. The others had picked up on the tension. Rosa turned to him, apprehension plain on her face.

Whats going on, Tom?

Markus and Tanya were staring at him nervously. Darius looked up from where he was tending to Eli.

Weve got orcs coming our way, Tom explained. Thirty or so. They there looks like a lot of Idealists. They must have heard the fight. Theyll be on us soon.

Oh Goddess, Markus said. We cant fight them But his gaze found Eli, still lying on the road, breathing shallowly, and he trailed off as he realised they couldnt run either.

The others drew the same conclusion. Tom could see it in their eyes. The situation was dire. They all knew it.

Thirty orcs was not bad odds. Not if they were all hale and rested. And if the orcs were not Idealists.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

A line of fire scorched past above Sesame. Rosa dragged it back and forth over the orc line. Most of them began to smoulder and burn, though it didnt seem to cause them much consternation. Tom noticed Rosas Wildfire passive skill activate several times, jumping her burn damage to affect other orcs.

She laid down a smoke cloud over the back of the warband as she fired another exploding arrow into the fray. The rearmost orcs emerged from it calmly, though some of them were now burning too.

Tom became more and more nervous. The orcs behaviour was baffling. Never before had he failed to see pain or death or fighting elicit a bloodthirsty reaction from them. They simply continued their unhurried advance. They were almost like golems, though even golems showed more gusto.

The first orcs came close, and then, finally, Tom saw some change.

An orc picked him out, and took a few lumbering steps, almost breaking into a jog. The motion was like a boulder tipped loose on scree, faster than usual, still slow, but promising deadly momentum. It swung a femur behind itself as it began its short charge.

Tom readied his spear, positioning it minutely as the orc attacked. After its first step, something tweaked at him. He had no concentration to spare, however, with the orc upon him.

He stepped into the orcs charge. His spear darted out, taking it in the neck. He slid to the side, dragging on the spear with his weight, pulling it crossways and out the side of the orcs neck with a flare of blood.

Pink lightning coursed from the wound. He looked to the next orc, trying to sink into his battle state. He reset, casting Misery and Agony once again. Tom sent a mental command to Sus and Sol, briefly checked Sesame as the bear engaged his first orc, and moved on.

He flowed to the next orc, hitching his step a little as it began a charge as well. This one, a lankier female, raised a bone club for an overhead blow. Toms spear slipped into its armpit, deeply, and he was rewarded by a slick river of red as he pulled it free.

He twirled, moving fast, falling deeper into his battle-trance. Two orcs moved for him as he began to skirt slightly more to the side of the band, trying to force them to split their attention. He cast Misery on one and Agony on the other. He thrust, stabbing the first orc in its thigh, drew his spear back and used the butt to foul the others arm, pushing its strike off course. His spear whirled, slashing across the first orcs throat, then flickering in to jab the seconds hip.

Something tweaked at the back of Toms mind again. This was too easy. These massive orcs were all on the scale of the Idealist chieftains of the Deep, and yet none had used any skills. He held Hush at the ready, waiting to pounce on the first sign, but they simply attacked at him at an almost glacial pace.

His attention split back towards Sesame. Something was wrong. The bear was savaging its orc attacker, definitely winning, and yet confusion was beginning to pulse more and more strongly through the bond.

Tom struggled to see the problem. Then he caught the look of consternation on Markus face, too. His lion, and Meris greatwolf, were all fighting to repel an attack by two more orcs. Once again, they were winning, handily. And yet something still seemed off.

The rest of the orcs closed in. Their frontline would struggle to hold them all, but with luck, they could pull through. Tanya, Meri and Rosa were working hard to soften them up. He could see Darius preparing to throw in his help where needed. Tom himself felt like a one-man-whirlwind.

And therein was the problem.

The orc with the slashed throat slapped at him as it died, and the casual blow clipped his shoulder. He felt bones fracture. They immediately began to knit themselves together under Sweet Sufferings regeneration boost, but it gave him an appreciation for their deadly strength. It was far greater than a regular orc, closer to that of the Smith himself.

Still, Tom was too fast. In an instant, he stored his spear, retrieving his axe and swinging it through the neck of the second orc. As the axe burst free, he swapped it again for his spear.

As the body fell, he moved back in line with his original position, seeing he had grabbed enough of the orcs attention, and not wanting to open a hole in their line through which they could easily overwhelm the backline.

The bulk of the orcs were close, now. Tom slid towards them at supernatural speed. He felt a jolt of fear from Sesame. Something clicked, and the problem became abundantly clear.