Chapter 6: Scourgeborn
The two then silently watched as the adolescents put together a large campfire.
Tents had been put up here and there already, and soon the atmosphere grew quiet, as if they were waiting for something.
He then looked to the orc leader, who smirked. He turned his free hand upwards as he was reading, and suddenly, the man could feel a gust of wind sweeping past him. This continued for a time until a gray orb began to form above the orc's hand.
Its edges glowed with a soft gray light.
"Magic?!"
He then watched as the gray sphere suddenly combusted into a vibrant flame. The orc seemingly got a better grip on the flame, and then he chucked it haphazardly into the unlit campfire!
A pillar of flames shot into the sky, yet it calmed down in seconds, becoming a normal fire.
The other orcs let out ravenous cheers, the atmosphere mirroring the eruption of the pillar as it suddenly became jovial.
"What's your name, runt?" the orc turned to ask.
"My name is…"
The man felt a barrier in his mind as he tried to recall his name. And then his face contorted into a frown as he tried to remember anything.
He had been too preoccupied to really think about much of anything, both with the shock of seeing the orc and with learning his language.
Trying to remember anything was like trying to decode TV static. It was possible, but pointless, since the information you got was completely random…
So, try as he might, he was only regathering discombobulated information, none of which offered his own name.
So, he instead opted to try an old trick, one he had used to do on multiple choice question tests, and rolled with the first thing that came to mind.
The orc raised an eyebrow as he watched the young lad.
Could he not remember his own name?
"Mikhail…" the young man suddenly blurted out, a tone of uncertainty laced into his voice.
Mikhail felt as though he was sort of off, but that was the first thing that came to mind. Though, even if it was off, he rather liked the way it sounded.
He nodded to himself and put the weird feeling aside.
"Yeah… My name is Mikhail. What is your name?"
"My name is Yagnar. I am a {merchant of the} Orc {Tribe.}"
"What?"
"People give me things, and I give them things in return. {Merchant.}"
Mikhail nodded in understanding and repeated the phrase a few times.
"Last part?"
"I come from the Orc {Tribe. Tribe} is where I live."
'{Tribe…} I guess this phrase equates to the word village or something similar.'
He then watched as one of the men gathered some raw meat from one of the carriages, taking it into a tent before coming back out with several meat skewers, enough for everyone at a glance.
He passed them around to everyone one by one, until there was only one left. To Mikhail's surprise, he came up to him and gave it to him.
"Thank you," he said. He only got a nod in response, before the man went back to the tent. He tucked the book under his arm as he got a grip on the wooden skewer.
"Go, eat."
Not one to stand on ceremony, he quickly went up to the large fire, occupying one of the empty spots as he roasted his meat silently.
The others were too focused on their task to mind him right now, all of them trying to get their meat cooked to perfection. Mikhail of course was no exception, though with no experience in cooking, he was bound to fail.
After taking it away too soon, he put it back for a little bit too long. The meat tasted fine, but it had become a little too chewy in some spots. He eventually ate it all, and made room for the adults and their food as he threw his skewer into the flames like the other adolescents had done.
Yagnar did not get up from his chair, and one of the women sat in the chair next to him now. After walking over, Yagnar pointed to one of the larger tents and told him he could sleep there with the others.
The tent was like a large cube with a pyramid top, and the entrance to it looked like two curtains that sat side by side. The cloth hanging from the wooden support beams was a clean white, with Yagnar's likeness having been sewn into the roof's fabric, being visible from where he stood.
He walked over and inside, finding that the ground was covered in a few layers of the same cloth that the tent was made of. Thankfully, Yagnar's likeness couldn't be seen sewn into it.
It would've been weird seeing his face everywhere…
Next to the tent's entrance was a pile of sleeping mats.
Mikhail grabbed one and scoped out a place to lie down. Aside from himself, there were only two young teens who had run out of energy already. There was a lamp situated on a crate towards the right edge of the tent, so he chose to sit by it in order to continue studying Shagar.
He lost himself in the study of that new language, so much so that he didn't notice that others began to fill in the tent. They saw how Mikhail was intently learning their language, and left him alone despite their curiosity.
At least, that's how it was for a time, until a certain group entered the tent.
"Yeah, and what are the odds?! Yagnar went and picked up a fucking Scourgeborn!"
A taller orc than most entered the tent. He had spiky black hair, reflecting the orange light of the lamps in an almost menacing fashion. Following him was a ragtag group of fellows ranging from young lads to young dads.
About five of some such fellows.
The tall orc was obscenely loud, throwing Mikhail's concentration off. Yet he simply continued reading the book in front of his face as he lay down on his side.
The tent however, had grown silent…
A few loud steps rang out through the tent, and when a pair of legs stood in front of Mikhail, he finally looked up to see what the deal was.
"Yes?"
"What the hell is a harbinger of misfortune like you doing around here, huh?!"
Mikhail looked at him strangely as he parsed out the words in his mind, translating the sentence in his mind… But even when he finished, he was still confused.
"Pardon, sir?"
The orc frowned and bared his teeth.
Without a word, the man angrily kicked forward, and Mikhail, caught off guard, had no choice but take the kick to the gut. He was sent rolling away, but his book remained in his grasp.
After coughing a few times, Mikhail staggered up to his feet while clutching his stomach.
The tent only watched on in silence.
"Hey now… Can't you pick on someone your own size?" Mikhail said while wiping the spit from his mouth.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone