The road was becoming busier by the minute, to the point that by noon, it almost felt like they were back in the city, with a wagon caravan passing every minute or two. There shouldn’t be that many people in the cities nearby, according to the maps that Bruse Temple had shown them.
They had seen hundreds of merchants just this morning, and there should have only been a few thousand people in the fifty-kilometre radius around the city. Certainly, not enough to need this many merchants.
In fact, there shouldn’t be that many people with merchant as a trade in the entire region.
Then, suddenly, there were no more merchant wagons coming.
[Hawk, what is going on out there? Was it just a morning rush?] Karl asked.
If it was some sort of regional event, like a major market day, it might explain all the people on the road.
[There are more stopped in the distance. I don’t know what they’re up to. Oh, I see it now. There are Orcs coming from the east. If you keep going, we should meet up with them.]
Hawk didn’t see any reason to fear Orcs. They had been quite pleasant every time he had seen them, and they didn’t use water magic at all. Not even one little bit.
Karl kept the wagon rolling. If they were going to get delayed, it might as well be chatting with the Orcs, not waiting for an entire tribe to pass by.
They were nearly in front of the Orcish tribe when their scouts reached the road.
“You’re a merchant?” The young Orcish man asked.
Karl nodded. “We have mostly tools for the Trolls, farming tools. We’ve got a bit of cleric made food as well, if your tribe wants a trade.”
“Wait here. Chief Nantucket will speak with you.”
Karl nodded, and behind him, he felt the surge of power as the clerics started to make the promised food.
They were creating dry rice and beans, which would keep for a long time, along with some fresh vegetables and a single pie.
They had hidden the rest, but they left out one of the sweet potato pies from the market and even heated it so it would still seem fresh, even after being in the wagon all morning.
The Chief and his group were already running their way as Karl stopped the wagon and climbed down to greet them.
“Chief Nantucket. I am Karl.”
He extended his hand, and the Chieftain shook it with a smile on his face.
“The scout says that you had a Dragon Cleric make you food to trade. How much do you have?” The Orc asked.
Karl took out the rough burlap sack to set on the ground, then carefully took the pie and handed it to Nantucket.
“That is a first meeting gift from me to you. Fresh from the markets in Halsearing.”
The Chieftain smiled. “Still warm. You know about Orcs.”
His tone was approving, and Karl chuckled softly.
“That’s the same thing that Chieftain World Smasher said yesterday. His clan is just west of here. The Gods granted them a dungeon trial for one of their boys who wasn’t strong enough to claim his mate.”
Nantucket laughed. “How can an Orc be too weak to claim his mate?”
Karl smiled and leaned in to stage whisper, as if it was a secret. “He had earned his spot as a warrior, but she very publicly called him out and then beat his ass in a wrestling trial. Quite the woman, he set his sights high.”
The Orcs that came with the Chieftain’s group were roaring with laughter, and the big Orc clapped Karl on the shoulder.
“I’ve got to see that. You say he’s just west of here?”
Karl nodded. “About fifteen kilometres, mostly west, maybe a bit southwest. I went south to the city after I traded him a hundred kilos of salmon. There will be a lot of fighters there if the dungeon is still open.”
“A big fight and an old friend? Now I do have to go. How much do you want for the food?”
Karl heard Tessa clear her throat in the wagon. The church didn’t charge for their food.
“It’s for you. You know how the clerics are, they share their food.”
The Orcs laughed at the subtle reference to the similarity with their own customs. One of the warriors picked up the bag, while another handed Karl a folded lump of burlap, presumably a replacement bag.
“It was a pleasure to meet you. May good weather and better fights be in your future.” Karl added as the assistants ran back to the tribe.
“Same to you, Merchant Karl. If our tribes cross paths again, we will drink together.”
What sort of liquor the Orcs made was a mystery to Karl, but he had visions of something almost toxic levels of potent.
The Orcish tribe altered their path to run behind Karl, and he got Thor moving again.
“Don’t you think that was too easy? The nomadic tribes are supposed to be feral and dangerous, but they’re even easier to get along with than the cities.” Ophelia asked.
“I think that the issue might be local, not generalized. The Orcish tribes must have an issue with either the Trolls or the other monster factions.” He replied after a moment’s thought.
“Could it be something about our group instead?” Dana asked.
“It could be, but I don’t think that we have a way to test that.”
Karl saw a wagon caravan in the distance, and began to relax. They must be clear of the area that the locals had identified as dangerous.
Thor moved to the side as he rolled past them, and Karl noticed that a few of the monsters guarding the wagon sniffed at the air.
They tensed as if they were going to attack, but backed down when the Naga Warrior glared at them.
Karl remained silent until they were well past the stopped merchant group, then looked back at the others.
“I think I have an idea. We might be having better luck with the Orcs because they don’t consider us food or competition. Orcs view humans as weak, so we’re not competitors, and they don’t want to eat us.
It’s the Ogres and a few others that are most likely to be an issue for us.” He explained.
There were more wagons parked a few hundred metres behind the first group, and the driver of the lead wagon flagged Karl down as they approached.
“Did you see the nomads on your way through?” A blue skinned slender troll asked.
“Yeah, an Orc tribe. They’re west of the road now, and headed west looking for the big fight that was the talk of the city this morning. What’s with all the traffic today?” Karl replied.
“Dunno. Messengers called for every farmer and merchant we know to bring everything to Halsearing. It might be preparation for a siege. Are you trading with the Trolls up north?” He asked.
Karl nodded. “I’ve got tools for them, quality ones.”
“Good call. If there is a siege, they’ll need everything they can get to keep the armies fed. It doesn’t take a genius to know that armies get hungry, and it’s easier to feed them than to fight them.”
