A Nerubian's Journey

Orfus sighed wearily as the light of the morning peaked through the windows of his small home. He was reluctant to rise so early, but he knew he had a long day ahead of him and important responsibilities. The representatives from Kaskala and Moa’ki had just left, and Kamagua needed to replenish its food stocks as a result.

Orfus understood that the Elders felt it was important to throw a feast for visiting clans so they could demonstrate their capability, but they weren’t the ones who would need to hunt the shoveltusks. Fortunately, they would only need to hunt the beasts as a temporary supplement until the Fishermen managed to refill the village’s food supply.

Lifting himself from the comfort of his bed, Orfus donned his whale skin vest, grabbed his personal knife and spear, and made his way out of his house to face the day.

As he took a glance around the Ancient Life Outpost, he could immediately tell that his friend, Lunk-tusk, had already left to go hunting.

Orfus huffed in amusement, his friend would rather hunt alone than spend time looking after the younger hunters. He wasn’t too worried though, Lunk-tusk was a highly capable warrior and was more than able to take care of himself.

Ready to get the day started, Orfus walked to the middle of the outpost and decided to wake up the young ones.

“Wake up, short-tusks!” bellowed Orfus at the top of his lungs. “The sun is up and it's time to get moving! Tayutka does not feed the lazy!”

Orfus chuckled to himself as he heard the muffled curses of young men throwing themselves out of bed and frantically preparing for the day ahead.

Soon enough, four young men with short and shiny tusks were lined up in front of him.

After a short inspection, he was pleased to see that Hrajopo, Hogak, Iriunot, and Motak had all managed to prepare themselves properly for the hunt.

“Are you ready, short-tusks?” asked Orfus sternly. Even if they were not expecting any great danger, hunting—just like fishing—was something that should always be taken seriously. “I don’t want any of you getting gored because you decided to do something foolish. Our people are counting on us to feed them, and your families are counting on you to come back home. I expect you all to follow my directions, am I clear?”

He usually preferred to be more relaxed, but he had learned the hard way that it was best to be strict with young warriors who were barely more than calves.

After receiving enthusiastic affirmations from the young ones, Orfus nodded and started to lead them north. Their people were not best suited to travel quickly over land or for long distances on foot, but that was not a problem when it came to hunting shoveltusks. The stags were extremely territorial and would end up attacking anything that approached their herd’s feeding grounds. All Orfus needed to do was find a herd of shoveltusks, walk in its direction, and kill the stag that came charging at him.

In Orfus’s opinion, hunting shoveltusks was far simpler than fishing, which was likely the reason why it was not nearly as respected and thus not worth many knots on one’s counting staff. Even embroidery done by the womenfolk was worth more knots.

Still, it was something that needed to be done.

The only difficult part was actually finding a herd. Lunk-tusk had scouted a herd north of the outpost a few days ago, but they had already been walking for a while and were having trouble finding it. The lands were very flat, so Orfus was surprised they had not spotted it yet.

Orfus was looking around and growing increasingly frustrated by the lack of shoveltusks despite having been walking for nearly an hour when his search was interrupted by Iriunot’s yells.

“Long-tusk, what is that?!”

Orfus looked in the direction Iriunot was pointing in and was immediately dumbstruck by what he saw.

There was a tall tree peeking over a hill that was covered completely in spider webs.

“Get behind me, now!” Orfus barked at the younger warriors.

There was no reason for there to be giant spiders this far from the Rivenwood, but there was always a chance something had driven them south. A riven widow was not itself difficult to kill, but its venom was a death sentence without immediate attention from a shaman. Orfus had a faster reaction time and thicker blubber than the rest of his hunting party, so it would be best for them to stay behind him.

After the short-tusks were safely behind him, he gripped his spear tightly and carefully inched his way forward. With every step he took closer Orfus expected a giant spider to come charging down from the tree. Strangely, he managed to make it all the way there without incident, and even after circling the webbed tree, nothing attacked him.

Orfus felt his apprehension turn into confusion as he confirmed the tree to be empty.

“There is nothing here,” Orfus said with feigned confidence. The short-tusks slowly calmed down and started to gawk at the tree with curiosity. “Prepare to head back. This needs to be reported to the Elders.”

He hoped one of the shamans would understand what was going on since it was quite odd for the riven widows to abandon a nest. Orfus was about to lead the hunting party back to the outpost, and then to Kamagua, when he was interrupted by a strange voice.

“Greetings!”

Orfus and his hunting party immediately brandished their spears and stood back to back. He frantically looked at his surroundings but was unable to spot the owner of the voice. Still, he pushed himself in front of his hunting party and pointed his spear toward the bushes to his left.

After all, in such flat lands, there were very few places a person could hide.

“Who are you? Show yourself, stranger!”

“I will,” said the voice. They spoke slowly and their Kalu’aka was accented in a way Orfus had never heard before; are they a different race? Maybe a troll or a taunka? Perhaps a human? “But first, promise no attack.”

They were worried about being attacked?

Orfus allowed himself to relax as it looked less and less likely that their hunting party was about to be ambushed.

“I promise, stranger. We have no intention of attacking you if you do not attack us. We Kalu’ak are a peaceful people.”

Orfus expected the stranger to show themselves after being reassured, but they instead called out again with audible hesitation.

“Remember promise. We look scary.”

Orfus barely held back a scoff. He was a fully grown warrior of Kamagua. There was no chance of him being frightened to the point of violence by the appearance of some strange taunka or troll. He was even less frightened by the appearance of the small, tuskless humans.

“You need not worry, stranger,” Orfus said soothingly. “No matter what manner of creature you may be, we promise we will not attack you.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, the strangers finally walked out of the bushes and Orfus almost made himself into a liar.

As it was, he was able to hold back his instinctual reaction and focused his attention on stopping the screaming short-tusks from throwing their spears in terror.

“Calm down! Are you men or are you children?!”

After a lot of yelling, Orfus was eventually able to calm down the short-tusks enough that he didn’t need to worry about them recklessly attacking the two giant spider creatures that could talk. Orfus shot a quick glare to the short-tusks and made it clear that he would be the one doing the talking.

“I apologize, strangers. Your appearances are indeed a bit more… startling than I expected,” Orfus said as diplomatically as possible. “I am Orfus of Kamagua. Who are you?”

“I am Krivax,” said the giant spider person who was wearing a robe made from some strange material. It then pointed to the other one next to it, which was wearing a set of metal armor and holding a spear. “This is Masruk. We want peace, not fight. We bring fish.”

Orfus looked on in disbelief as the creature presented a Fangtooth Herring to them within a net of… more webs apparently, which made it clear who was responsible for the tree.

He was feeling distinctly uncomfortable with how much of their language and culture the giant spider person knew. However, his sense of propriety did not allow any of this discomfort to show on his face as he accepted the gift. To deny a gift freely given, especially one that was sourced from the bounty of the sea through the hard work of another, would be a great insult after all.

After the creature presented the fish, the short-tusks calmed down significantly and their expressions became much more curious rather than fearful. Orfus usually appreciated his people’s kind and trusting nature, but right now it was his job to protect the young ones from a potential threat.

“Thank you for the gift, Krivax,” Orfus said politely. The armored one seemed content to allow his companion to do all of the talking, so he directed his words to Krivax “I hate to be rude, but I have to ask. What are you, and what are your intentions?”

The fact that this creature was able to speak Kalu’aka and presented them with a peace offering in the form of a freshly caught fish meant that they had not approached his people by accident.

“Our people are called…”

The giant talking spider thing then started to speak in a strange skittering language, yet somehow, Orfus was able to understand the general gist of what it was saying. Was this some kind of magic?

Apparently, these creatures were called nerubians. Orfus did not know what a nerubian was, or if he would be able to pronounce the strange word, but it was not his responsibility to know such things. Orfus hoped that the Elders knew something about these creatures, or perhaps one of the Shamans would be able to contact an ancestor who had experience with them.

“We want peace. Trade. Friendship. No fighting.”

Orfus carefully considered the creature’s words as the short-tusks continued to lose their sense of wariness about the strange creatures. If these nerubians were approaching his people in a diplomatic manner and with the intention of fostering friendship and trade, then this was something that could only be handled by the Chieftain.

A part of Orfus wilted at the idea of how much hunting he would need to do if their village hosted more diplomats after the last ones had just left, but he knew he would do whatever his village required of him. Right now, the best way to handle these strange creatures was to learn as much as he could about them before he spoke to the Elders.

“I mean no disrespect, Krivax, but I know nothing about you or your people. I need to seek the wisdom of our people’s Elders before I can allow you to approach our village.”

“Understand. Not problem,” said Krivax. The nerubian then seemed to hesitate before speaking quickly in its harsh language.

Whatever magic the creature was using to translate its intentions sent Orfus feelings of understanding and a desire to show him what they had brought to trade. Krivax also promised not to approach their village or outpost without their permission.

“Alright, if you would like to show us what you have brought to trade, then I’m willing to take a look and tell our Elders when I speak to them.”

Orfus was not sure how much of what he said was understood by the creature, but he hoped that their strange magic would work both ways.

Krivax reached into a bag that they had been carrying over their shoulder, and Orfus was once again astounded as more of their arm disappeared into the bag than should be possible. It was starting to become clear to him that these nerubians were capable of feats of magic that the shamans were incapable of.

Orfus tensed as the nerubian started to pull something out of the magical bag, but rather than it being a weapon like part of him was expecting, it seemed to be a large roll of silk.

The giant spider people want to trade with silk. At least that makes sense.

By the time the nerubian was finished retrieving their trading goods, Krivax had pulled out several rolls of silk in various different colors and an assortment of metal ores. Orfus was feeling a bit out of his depth, he was a warrior, not a blacksmith or a seamstress.

Still, he would do his best to evaluate these goods so that he could present the Elders with as much information as possible.

“Can you explain what these are?” Orfus said respectfully. “I am not familiar with these items.”

“Yes. Can explain,” Krivax said eagerly. They then started to speak in their native language as they described the use of each of the objects.

Once they were done, even somebody as unfamiliar as him with the work of a seamstress could understand how valuable these silks were. By Issliruk, if what they said is true, then the reinforced silk could be used to make nets and ropes that would completely change how their people fished!

They even had silks that were able to heat anything that they touched. This could be used to make clothing that would protect the more vulnerable members of their community during the particularly harsh winters. Orfus could not immediately think of a use for the colder silk, but he was certain somebody in their village would find it useful.

When Orfus asked about the ores, he learned that they were all rather ordinary metal ores that his people were able to produce in great quantities because they apparently lived underground. Orfus was torn between feeling extreme horror at the thought of a race of giant spider people living beneath his feet, and glee at the thought of cheaper metals that could be used to make tools and weapons.

These nerubians must be extremely confident in their capabilities if they were willing to carelessly trade away metal ores.

Orfus looked at the younger warriors who were busy gawking at the silk and ores, and couldn’t help but feel that the events of today would be worthy of being carved into their tusks.

Orfus spent the next few minutes asking clarifying questions, which the nerubian answered patiently. It was a bit difficult for them to communicate complicated ideas due to the language barrier, even with the spider people’s strange magic, but they were able to muddle through.

When he was done, Orfus asked the two nerubians to wait by the webbed tree for them to return as he left to go speak to the Elders. Krivax agreed and also offered to give him a shoveltusk stag for them to bring back to his people.

That explained why we couldn’t find the herd, he thought to himself as Orfus accepted but told them that bringing back the corpse would slow them down too much and that they would collect it later.

After Krivax agreed, Orfus bid the two nerubians farewell and started to drag his hunting party back to the village as quickly as possible.

“To think that there was such a people living in Northrend that we didn’t know about…” Hogak spoke in wonder.

“As my father says, ‘the world is wider than we will ever know,’” Motak followed up.

“I wonder what it is like living underground. It seems like a good way to avoid blizzards, but I think I would miss not seeing the sun or stars after a while,” Hrajopo mused.

“You think they honor spiders like we honor walruses as reincarnated ancestors? Maybe they can even talk to them like the Shamans do…” Iriunot wondered out loud.

The four short-tusks continued to converse among themselves about their first contact with a race that no one, as far as Orfus knew at least, had even heard of and what they might be like.

Orfus let them since he was wondering quite a lot himself, and there was clearly no longer a need to be silent on this hunt turned diplomatic meeting.

As they hurriedly made their way back, Orfus couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to explain this to the Elders. It was a good thing he had four other witnesses as well as the web net containing the Fangtooth Herring. He doubted anyone would believe him when he told them what he saw otherwise.