A Soldiers Life - 300 - The Smell Of Victory Is Ogre Stench (final edit 7-8-25)

Chapter 300: The Smell Of Victory Is Ogre Stench Warlord Krage had a formidable constitution. I watched him stride close to the corpses of o

Chapter 300: The Smell Of Victory Is Ogre Stench

Warlord Krage had a formidable constitution. I watched him stride close to the corpses of ogres and trolls, seemingly unfazed by the stench that made my eyes water now that the adrenaline of battle had faded. His boots, along with those of the two clerics flanking him, were soon caked in bloody mud and gore. The dry grass swayed lazily in the still air, causing me to think they had avoided the worst of the odor thanks to a stiff breeze conjured by one of the clerics. I caught fragments of orcish spoken between them, mostly astonished remarks about the sheer scale of the carnage.

Relief swept over me when Krage’s men emerged from the tree line ahead of my companions and charges. For a moment, I had feared they might have retreated when the cavalry arrived, mistaking it for a hostile force.

Mynasha approached, unsteady in her saddle. Krage’s gaze flicked to her, but it was Glasha who he recognized. Glasha, it seemed, was either widely traveled or well known among the orcish ranks.

One of Krage’s clerics stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “War Cleric Mynasha,” he said, his voice tinged with veneration, “I have heard tales of your prowess—but witnessing your control of lightning with my own eyes is truly an honor.”

Mynasha didn’t respond, and I think she was using all her energy to remain awake and stay in the saddle. Glasha greeted the orcs with a smile. “Warlord Krage. Cleric Falasha. Cleric Ottasha. You are a long way from your cities.”

Warlord Krage addressed Glasha stiffly. I guessed there may be some animosity between the two from this tone. “We were on our way to The Choosing to support Cleric Ottasha when we were informed of the invasion from the Endless Dark.”

“As were we with our own candidate,” Glasha responded curtly at some hidden accusation. One of the cleric’s eyes widened, trying to puzzle out who among Glasha, Tarnasha, and Mynasha sought to be the Supreme. Glasha didn’t make him wonder. “Mynasha seeks to become the Supreme.” The cleric, who I assumed was Ottasha, eyed his competition and then looked back at the carnage.

Warlord Krage nodded slowly, “Warlord Melkos is two days behind us. He implored us to wait for greater numbers, but…” His hand indicated the carnage.

“Mynasha needs at least two days to rest before casting battle lightning again. Perhaps you could handle the remaining six trolls and four ogres yourself? All the ogres are recovering from severe injuries,” Glasha challenged him. It was a smart way to delay one of Mynasha’s competitors.

I could see the indecision on Krage’s face. He could gain this Caliphate currency called honor or wait. As a leader, he was processing what an attack might cost him in men and what it would gain him in honor. He slowly shook his head negatively. “It is too much. A mountain troll is as good as ten elite warriors.”

“Will you not be late to The Choosing then?” I asked. The warlord and his clerics turned irritably to me for intruding. Glasha just smirked, realizing what I was doing.

Cleric Ottasha spoke, with icy words. “Adventurer, Caliphate business is not your concern.”

Glasha made to speak, and I irritably thought about removing her head, thinking she was going to inform the new arrivals that I was serving as Mynasha’s First. Thankfully, she didn’t. “The human speaks the truth. The Choosing will begin in two nights under the full moon.”

Ottasha growled, showing his tusks, “They will wait for me. Elder Daccasha herself suggested I become a candidate.”

Tarnasha laughed loudly from atop his mount. It was clear these orcs didn’t know who the old orc cleric was. I guessed he was too long removed from orc politics. “Daccasha scrubs the latrines for the Council of Elders. She is the youngest and least liked among them. Her word is as valuable as the leaves you use in latrines.” The old orc said it convincingly, but I was unsure how he could still be in tune with the politics since he had been in seclusion. I guessed that maybe Glasha was not his only visitor.

His words did silence Ottasha, who went into deep contemplation. The warlord’s men returned from scouting the garrison fort, and an animated discussion ensued, but they were too far away, and the rapid speech made it difficult for me to pick much out other than that they were discussing the wrecked village and the trolls held up in the fort.

I moved closer to Glasha, who was still mounted, “Has Mynasha done enough? Can we depart for the capital and leave them to finish the job?”

She watched the warlord for a moment before dismounting to talk to me privately in a whisper. “I think we will be leaving in the morning once Mynasha has had a full night to recover. Otherwise, she might not be able to remain in the saddle.” She indicated Warlord Krage, “either they will attack at first light or wait for Warlord Melkos, who should bring at least five hundred warriors. Either way, Mynasha has earned enough honor to depart. These clerics have witnessed it and can attest to it when they reach The Choosing after us.” She didn’t sound confident, but it was probably the only course of action open to Mynasha.

I nodded to Benito, Blaze, and Mateo, a signal to retrieve the gear we had secreted along the cliff. From the body language, it seemed Ottasha was worried by Mynasha’s display of power and her fearless confrontation with the trolls. Of course, she had some help drawing them out of the fort, but I didn’t need any credit. I did wonder what they would make of the ogre I left in the pit. Most of its head had been cleanly removed and not by lightning.

The warlord’s warriors began setting up defenses and a camp just off the road. I looked to Glasha to see what her plans were. She had been listening in on the conversation between the warlord and two clerics. When they parted ways, she approached me. “Warlord Krage was planning to serve Candidate Ottasha’s First but is now reconsidering.” She had a mirthful smile on her face.

“Is he going to serve as Mynasha’s First, then?” I asked hopefully.

She hissed in displeasure at me. “Unlikely, there is some turbulent history between us. He does not think Ottasha stands a chance and doesn’t want to lose any honor by standing with him as his First.” She shook her head, “Warlords are battle-focused, and they only see power in strength. The strongest cleric does not always win the seat, but eliminating Ottasha now is good for Mynasha, so I will not dissuade him.” Caliphate politics were beyond my understanding, but at least it sounded like we would be leaving soon.

I turned to find Mynasha seated and Mateo serving her some food, which she ate mechanically. “Will Mynasha be ready to leave in the morning?” I was half worried she would want to see the battle to its conclusion.

“I will make certain of it,” Glasha stated confidently. I nodded and went to join my companions.

We made camp in the safety of the tree line. I rewarded Ginger’s bravery today with a pair of apples after rubbing her down. Since I was slightly worried about the trolls attacking in the night, I forced myself to sleep early so I could remain on watch through the night. Even a quarter mile away, the ogre’s stench reached us. The orcs would burn the bodies in the morning, but if they did it now, the stench would be much worse. Burning ogre fat was a good way to repel insects—and people.

Maveith woke me with a gentle shake a few hours later. He knew best how much sleep I needed with the ring. My large friend hovered, relaying the news of what I had missed, “We are leaving at first light. Mynasha has been convinced to leave and not join the final assault to reclaim the fort.”

“That is wonderful news,” I acknowledged while working the kinks in my neck out from sleeping on the hard ground. The warlord’s camp had a number of fires a short distance away, but all seemed quiet. Raelia was up and moved to walk with me to the watch. She probably planned to sit with me for the rest of the night. She found a tree on the edge of the camp, and we sat on either side. It was far enough away that we could whisper without disturbing the others.

It wasn’t long before she asked, “If we find and free Maveith’s sister, will you be going with them to Stone Mountain Island?”

“Most likely,” I said. I awkwardly paused before asking, “Are you coming with us?” The small elf woman grew on you after a while, and I didn’t mind her company. I think she was no longer angry with me for my decisions as well.

“Are you inviting me?” She asked in a slightly mischievous tone. It was odd how well I was getting to know her nuanced speech.

I could tell she wanted me to say something but I was not sure what. “You don’t need me to invite you. You are free to travel wherever you want. You are welcome to stay in our company, but I plan to send Blaze, Mateo, and Benito back to Gramney if we are successful in finding Maveith’s sister.”

Raelia let out a long, vocal sigh. “I should return to Artiria. My aunt granted me leave, albeit reluctantly. I have…obligations.”

I glanced over at her, then back into the night. She definitely wanted something from me. Maybe she wanted me to tell her what to do. “What kind of obligations?” I asked carefully, expecting her to dodge the question.

She surprised me by answering. “I’m meant to be a bridge,” she said quietly. “Between the two Glavien branches in Esenhem and Bartiradia. They’ve grown apart over the last few centuries. The family heads want unity again. A symbol. That’s supposed to be me.”

“A symbol through marriage?” I speculated.

She nodded. “Eventually. Not soon. Maybe in two decades or so. But yes. The idea is that I’ll marry into a family in Esenhem allied with House Glavien to strengthen ties.”

I don’t know what emotion that stirred in me, maybe jealousy. “Do you get a say in it?” I asked after a stretch of silence.

Raelia gave a soft laugh. “Of course. We are not beasts. I’ll have to approve whoever it is. But it is still a duty expected of me.”

I was quiet for a moment, and looked over at her. “You don’t seem angry about it.”

She shrugged, her gaze distant. “I made peace with it a long time ago. Being a Glavien means living a long time with choices that sometimes aren’t entirely your own. It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’ve seen worse fates. It was one of the reasons I chose to be a Griffin Rider in my youth. I reveled in the freedom.” A smile formed on her lips. She shifted her ranger’s cloak around her shoulders and settled against the tree. “I am taking a nap. I leave my safety in your hands tonight.”

Raelia didn’t say anything else after that. Her eyelids fluttered, and within minutes, her breathing slowed but a slight smile remained. She had fallen asleep, the tension easing from her shoulders, and was probably dreaming of flying on her griffin.

Before dawn, I worked to prepare the horses, and soon, my entire group was up and preparing to ride. Mynasha was still slightly unsteady on her feet but looked much better and at least aware. Raelia looked better this morning too. She almost seemed giddy as she bantered back and for with Benito and Mateo.

The news from the warlord’s camp in the morning was even better than we could have hoped. Two of the trolls had retreated into the Skull Passage, returning to the Endless Dark. Maybe it was the two trolls who had seen Mynasha’s chain lightning up close, and I wouldn’t blame them for gaining some sense. The departure of two of the trolls was enough to embolden Warlord Krage to assault the fort. His roughly one hundred men and two clerics rode out at sunrise.

After a quick, cold breakfast of jerky and dried fruit, we set a fast pace early, but there was no way we were going to cover three days of travel in just one day. Glasha’s magic extended to knowing relative distances. She assured us that we were nearly one hundred and thirty miles from the capital, a difficult distance to cover in two days, but she would keep the horses healthy.

At one point, I was riding next to Tarnasha, and he explained what was going to happen. “The Candidates will be presenting themselves at sunset to the Elders in a ceremony. It is unlikely we will be able to attend.” He continued gruffly. “The Choosing doesn’t truly begin until the first test, which is usually the day after the Candidates are recognized, but can be delayed under certain circumstances. There are those among the elders who might wish to start early.”

His hand extended to me, the obfuscation stone in his palm. “I am not going to serve as her First,” I reiterated.

“That is your choice. This is mine. You have done enough for my people to earn this. You are a match for any warlord of the Caliphate. It was an honor to travel with you,” Tarnasha said respectfully.

I took the stone with a nod of thanks. I managed to find a way to secure inside my armor. If I stored it in my dimensional space, its effect of preventing clairvoyant magic wouldn’t be effective.

We rode through the following day, passing villages and farms, only stopping briefly to water the horses. In the early evening, we encountered Warlord Melkos’ army. Orderly columns of riders approached, and Glasha happily went to talk with the tattooed warlord at the front. I watched from a short distance as the impressive orc grew angry. I figured it was because Warlord Krage was about to finish off the remaining ogres and trolls, making all Melkos’ effort pointless. His troop stormed off to try and join the assault.

As the sun set, we continued into the night again. The horses were feeling the fatigue, but Glasha said we were still nearly forty miles from Becar and was doing her best to keep them healthy.

By midmorning, our exhausted party reached the outskirts of Becar. The city sprawl was immense, and I knew it was one of the largest cities on the continent. While Telha was more densely populated with taller structures, Becar was a sprawl of buildings.

A steady stream of carts flowed down the roads, laden with food and goods to supply the city. The road switched from packed earth to stone as we caught sight of the impressive walls in the distance. “The primary Adventure’s Hall is near the center of the city main square, but there is a lesser hall on the outskirts,” Glasha informed me. “We will head there and settle our accounts.” I was suspicious that she was not pressing me to be Mynasha’s First now that we were here.

The lesser adventurer’s guild building was a cavernous structure, reminding me of a church. It smelled of sweat and ale. Dozens of adventurers, mostly orcs, lounged in the large chamber. These guild members didn’t remind me of the hardened fighters I had seen elsewhere, and I guessed this branch catered to easier tasks.

Glasha didn’t waste time, quickly confirming our task was completed and releasing funds from her personal accounts to us. She handed me the heavy pouch of gold as soon as it was handed to her. “The elder compound is north of the city if you are looking for us. Use Mynasha’s name to gain entrance.” She walked briskly outside to Mynasha and Tarnasha, and I followed. The trio of orcs rode away, circling the city with a sense of urgency.

My companions looked at me expectantly. Maveith’s green eyes were heavy with anticipation. It wouldn’t be long now before we either found his sister or found what fate had befallen her. Warlord Rhuuk had purchased her more than ten years ago. The city he administered was a day’s ride from the capital, but there was a chance Rhuuk was at The Choosing.

“Let’s find the main Adventurer’s Guild, and put a plan together,” I said, taking the lead. We guided the horses toward the flow of orcs moving through the inner city gates. The port capital reeked of salt and fish, though the ocean itself remained blocked from view by the looming sixty-foot wall that rose before us.

“Don’t look so anxious, Maveith. We are close and will have news soon.” I patted my friend on the back. He was studying every goliath that we passed, with an eager hope on his face only to be disappointed. If the goliath appeared mistreated, the tendons in his neck bulged, but he restrained himself.

Maveith nodded slowly. “She might be close. We should start looking immediately.”

“We are all saddle worn. In the morning, we will spread through the city in pairs.” Maveith nodded at my words.

Despite the city’s size, traffic moved easily through the wide gates. A few orcish guards in weathered metal cuirasses stood by, watching the crowd without much interest. Navigating the city streets with horses was slow going, even this early. We made frequent stops to ask for directions. It became clear why Glasha had been reluctant to enter. The city was a maze, and each minute inside chipped away at the time they had left to reach The Choosing.

The inner city was no longer dominated by orcs and had turned into a melting pot of different races as we made our way to the center. A river split the city down the middle, and docks lined both sides with dozens upon dozens of ships. The water had an oily appearance, and it was clear by the smell the sewers flowed directly into it.

From there it was easy to find the guild symbol above the press of people, proudly displayed. The adventurer’s hall was a grand stone building on the banks. It appeared to have a private dock with a few guild ships tethered there. I noted the Shorebreaker was not among them. After we stabled the horses, we entered.

Entering the common room replaced the foul smell of the city with alcohol and tobacco. A few curious eyes looked us over but quickly returned to whatever they had been doing. It was clear that these adventurers were much better equipped than they had been at the outer city hall. I paid for rooms and was about to lead my companions up the stairs when I paused.

An old, fat woman sat in the corner of the room. She looked vaguely familiar, and something clicked, and I placed her. She was the Eastern Legion Hall cook in Telha. One of Antonia’s agents. Konstantin had warned me that she was an assassin, and a chill went down my spine. There was no way she could be here for us. She was clearly wearing her guild medallion around her neck, and when we made eye contact, she smiled. It seemed like a friendly smile, but the idea that someone from the Telhian Empire recognized me was unwelcome.