Chp.31: Return to the tribe

The ogres of the Karbraland Great Forest weren't a united people: they were divided into about thirty different tribes, some smaller, some larger. Because of their hunting-based lifestyle, it was impossible for such tribes to exceed a certain population. Also, since ogres were a warlike race and periodically had conflicts with other tribes, their population was further thinned.

The three most powerful and prosperous tribes in the forest numbered no more than 10,000 ogres each; then there were about a dozen medium-sized tribes, ranging from 2,000 to 5,000 ogres. Finally there were many small tribes consisting of 1,500 to 2,000 ogres. The smallest tribe, the Esran tribe, numbered 1,278 ogres. As mentioned earlier, these tribes were not tied to a single nation, but formed small city-states (or rather, village-states), and only in case of extreme peril did they form a united front.

The Shack tribe was located in the southwest part of the forest. It was a fairly large tribe, ranking among medium-sized tribes: it numbered around 4,000 ogres. While it wasn't one of the most prosperous, it wasn't one of the poorest either. The territory where the tribe had settled was very prosperous and rich in resources, which made for a very good lifestyle.

Many ogres of this tribe were great warriors and indomitable fighters: although in the past they had fought many times against enemies even more numerous than themselves, they had always come out victorious. Not all of the ogre tribes of the Karbraland Great Forest could claim to have done the same. Indeed, for several years now no one had dared to attack the Shack tribe, even though it wasn't one of the strongest tribes and it was in a very attractive territory. Only a madman would have been foolish enough to go against the ogres who lived there, and therefore they could live a prosperous and peaceful life without having to worry too much about being attacked.

At least, that was what the sentry on watch that day believed, until he saw a blood-covered ogre emerge from the woods and trudge towards the village. It didn't take the sentry too long to recognize him as one of the hunters who had set out to look for prey that morning. "There's a wounded ogre! Go help him! Hurry!" he cried, immediately alerting the whole tribe.

Help didn't take long to arrive: alerted by the screams of the sentry, some guards ran out of the wooden wall that surrounded the village and ran towards the wounded ogre, who, seeing them coming, trudged towards them with all the strength he had left. As the guards caught up with him, he nearly fell on top of them: unable to stand any longer, the ogre fell to the ground and passed out. It seemed impossible that he was still alive: his right shoulder was completely dislocated, his right side was open from what appeared to be the wounds inflicted by numerous daggers, and he had several arrows stuck in his back. His face had been partly emaciated and he no longer had an eye. With his left hand he was dragging his axe, covered in blood and damaged in several places, while in his right hand he held a small object.

"It's Sarpa!" one of the guards recognized him. The ogres scrambled to lift him up and drag him towards the village. "Let's take him to the healer! Quick!"

Once they had dragged their comrade into the village, the ogres immediately sealed the doors: whoever had done that havoc most likely couldn't be far away. The whole tribe was immediately alarmed and each took his weapon and ran towards the wall that protected the tribe, ready to fight if an enemy dared to appear.

Meanwhile, the ogres who had been dragging Sarpa ran towards a house with a strange sun-like symbol drawn above the door. "Thok! Quick, come out! We need you!"

It didn't take too long: after a few seconds the door opened, revealing an ogre that wasn't very muscular (at least by the average of his people), but rather tall and with fangs cut cleanly in half; he was bare-chested, but he was wearing a kind of leather skirt and on his head he had a bearskin that came down over his shoulders almost to his feet. "What are you doing in front of... Oh, for Baat's sake!" he exclaimed, seeing the condition of Sarpa.

The guard hastened to explain: "We found him just outside the village in this state! You have to..."

"I know exactly what I have to do! Stop talking and take him inside!" the ogre named Thok was almost screaming as he ran to get jars filled with some strange concoction. "Put him on the table! And be careful not to touch the arrows!"

The guards obeyed right away; as soon as Sarpa was placed on the table with his back facing upwards, Thok immediately set to work and began to extract the arrows one by one, then he wet the wounded part with some potions. Seeing the horrific condition Sarpa was in, he knew he couldn't afford to waste a single minute, or he could have died.

Thok was one of the few ogre mages in Karbraland Great Forest and the only one in the Shack tribe. He had been trained by his master in the application of various types of magic and when the time came he too would have passed on his knowledge to anyone he deemed worthy to be his disciple. In turn, his disciple would have passed it on to someone else, and so on. Mages among the ogres were considered a sort of an elite, so only if someone was deemed worthy by one of them he could study magic; that was why there weren't many ogre mages. After all, if magic were accessible to all, then the mages would have lost their privileged position, and they clearly didn't want that.

Thok took out all the arrows and dressed all the wounds, and he made sure to heal even the smallest cut. While the healer was finishing his work, applying the last bandages, a huge ogre made his abrupt entrance into his house. He was at least thirty centimeters taller than the other ogres and had several tattoos on his body; his fangs were particularly long and his muscles were well evident. He had very long brown hair that fell to his shoulders and he wore various trinkets around his neck and arms. "Respectable Thok, forgive me for my intrusion, but I have to speak to the wounded man" he said in a rather deep voice.

"Chieftain" Thok greeted him immediately, bowing his head slightly. "I've been waiting for your arrival. Don't worry, I am almost done"

The huge ogre was none other than the leader of the Shack tribe. He had won that title long ago, proving to be the strongest of all ogres, and had remained undefeated ever since despite being challenged over and over again, as evidenced by the multiple scars on his body. His name was Dharon, and the other ogres of the tribe had bestowed on him the nickname 'The Invincible Mountain', due to his height and his unbeatability. Of course, this title only applied to his entire tribe: if compared to the chieftains of the more prosperous tribes, he would probably have found adversaries capable of surpassing it... but he had never found himself in a similar situation, so technically he could still be called 'invincible'. "How is him?" he asked, pointing to Sarpa that was still stretched out on the couch.

"He's fine now, but it could have ended very badly for him. I managed to stop the bleeding and heal the worst wounds. I also extracted these" the mage answered giving him the arrows he had taken from the hunter's back. "They were imbued with poison magic and were slowly wearing him down from the inside out. It's a blessing of Baat that he was able to return here. If I had intervened only half an hour late, he would have died for sure"

Dharon took the objects that Thok was handing him and inspected them carefully. "Arrows..." he whispered narrowing his eyes. Ogres didn't use arrows. Only fairies used them.

"Yes, and also he had this in his hands. He was gripping it so tightly that I had to force his fingers even while he was unconscious. I think he snatched it from his assailant" Thok continued showing him the crossbow.

The chieftain's face darkened even more. If the weapons Sarpa brought back would have been axes or swords, he wouldn't have been so surprised: they were the hallmarks of the ogres, and it wasn't uncommon for one tribe to assault another or bully its hunters. Even if no one had dared to attack the Shack tribe for a while, that didn't mean that situation was going to last forever. However, all the clues seemed to point back not to the ogres of another tribe, but to the fairies. But that didn't make sense: there hadn't been any conflict between ogres and fairies for many years… "Wake him up" he ordered.

Thok complied and placed a hand on Sarpa's head, reciting a quick incantation. After a moment the muscles of the ogre lying on the table trembled, as if shaken from within, and then his eyelids parted. A moment later, Sarpa regained full consciousness and let out a scream. He sat up immediately and probably would have punched Dharon in the face if he hadn't parried it in time. "Calm down, Sarpa. You're at the tribe now" he scolded him.

"Chieftain..." Sarpa looked confused, and Dharon could hardly blame him. The ogre hunter let out a few deep breaths and his pupils darted from side to side around the room, as if to make sure of his whereabouts, but within seconds his eyes shot open: "Chieftain! They attacked us! While we were hunting they took us by surprise... they kidnapped my companions... my son...!"

Dharon put a hand on his shoulder, stopping his rant. The chieftain could feel the trembling of the ogre hunter's muscles through the skin. "Calm down, Sarpa. Who attacked you?"

Sarpa grit his teeth. "The fairies! There were at least twenty... they suddenly attacked us. They used their arrows to block and capture us one by one. I reacted just in time and avoided getting caught, but they attacked me all together... I defended myself as best I could, but I had no choice but to run. They continuously chased me, pelted me with their arrows, and jumped on me several times cutting my skin with their knives..."

Dharon's eyes flashed. So he wasn't wrong: there really were the fairies behind all of that! "Why did they do it?" he asked.

Sarpa shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I have some clues. While I was running away I had managed to outdistance them, but one of them was hot on my heels... I ambushed her and pinned her against a tree, and in full fury I asked her the same question. She replied that it was a retaliation, but before I could find out more her companions arrived and forced me to flee again. I only managed to take away her weapon" he said pointing the crossbow.

"A retaliation?" Dharon thought. He didn't know what that retaliation was for, but from his point of view it made sense. Even though ogres and fairies hadn't been at war for a long time, the ogres hadn't really behaved as lambs towards their neighbors: many times they had kidnapped some fairies to make slaves of them, or they had trespassed on their territories to steal their resources. It was inevitable that sooner or later the fairies would have gotten tired of that and decide to fight back. Apparently that day had come. "Your companions?" Dharon asked again.

"All kidnapped" Sarpa answered. "They didn't kill anyone, but they captured them all... including my son!"

Dharon knew Sarpa wasn't lying: a father's despair for his son couldn't be faked. Sarpa really had lost his child. The ogre clenched his fists, then he turned to Thok: "Contact the other chieftains immediately! We must hold a council of war as soon as possible!"

"Yes, chieftain!" Thok answered, immediately running to perform the task.

Dharon glanced at Sarpa: "Rest now. You will come with me to meet the other chieftains. You will have to tell them what you saw"

"I'll gladly do it, chieftain" Sarpa replied, nodding vigorously, though that movement clearly pained him. Seeing this, Dharon was doubly sure that what the ogre hunter had said was all true: what he was seeing was clearly the haste of a father who wanted at all costs to recover his son as soon as possible. There was no way to simulate such emotion.