NOVEL NEXT Inspection
We spend the evening inspecting the 'camp', but can you call it that?
It's a tiny settlement without walls or fortifications. They dotted a few tents and shacks on both sides of the river I found earlier.
Their placement lacks order and planning, but everything's clean. It's surprising, considering Orcs live here. I should stop with the fantasy stereotypes gathered from all those books.
The mess hall is the largest building. It stands right on the bank of the water, looking like someone threw it together in haste.
It's no more than a slanted roof standing on long poles, only one side has a solid wall to block the dominant winds. Still, the entire population could fit inside if they wanted to.
And they sure did while I ate, staring holes into Alexandra's body. I can't blame them, I'd have as well. Does this world have mirrors?
[Notice: you can inspect yourself by opening the Character Sheet.]
Come on, System. That's not the same.
The clearing is much larger than the area they built up, suggesting the camp used to hold more people. They're down to fifty warriors, far from a real battalion's size.
The whole village counts less than a hundred souls. And it looks like they don't discriminate between genders in military service.
There are the fighters. They're men and women in loincloths and leather bras, often unarmed. The auxiliaries are better dressed doing other work around the settlement.
Have they never heard of armor? Or do they not need it? Is it practical, or their cultural thing? I want to ask so many questions, but I'm too afraid they would raise suspicion.
Remember, you are their leader of some sort. You should know everything about this world, so act like it. The only things I allow myself to ask are about recent history.
They must have come here after someone defeated Charlotte's dad. The previous Vice Commander. Was he important to Alexandra? Does she even know?
I got hints from the System about what happened, but there are too many gaps to fill.
My knowledge about this world is full of holes, as the village's defenses. They didn't even make any obvious earthworks. It's like they gave up and retreated here after Alex abandoned them.
Here, the river narrows to a small stream you can step over before turning and widening again.
With my limited knowledge, I'd expect it to flow around the settlement as a last barrier. I'm not a strategist, but it doesn't seem right that even the curve it makes is outside the tribe's territory.
There's a treeline covering it from the prying eyes.
That's where they bathe every day — again, not something I thought the Orcs would care about. These guys seem more cultured than the average teenagers in my world.
Despite living out in the wild and looking this rough and animalistic. And all the setting that looks straight out of the dark medieval era.
They only have a few weapons and clothing, and no tech whatsoever. Everything looks basic and functional, yet they put so much effort into hygiene.
Especially the cook, — and bless his heart, that meal was delicious, — and the shaman. Both are males and dress a lot better than the rest.
It isn't to say, the others lack modesty. Every woman covers their breasts, even if I couldn't always tell them apart from the men. Somewhere deep down I'm a little disappointed.
Is it because they serve the Thirteenth Bride, or is it generally true to their whole species?
"So how long have you been here?" I ask Charlotte, my tour guide and Alex's second in command. Is it the right tone to use with her?
Hana, who's no longer The Butcher, but still the Standard Bearer tags along too. And so do Mabel and a few more curious children, only thinning out after the sun dips below the horizon.
It doesn't affect me, this body can see in the dark, and the Orcs are familiar with the area.
"When I took over command three years ago, we were already here." The huge green woman notes. I'm too focused on putting the pieces together, but she has a strange glint in her eyes.
So she's only in charge for a while then.
"I wasn't with the Battalion for long, but they built the first shacks five years ago."
"Six." Hana corrects her, the other brute who keeps following. The rest retreat to their homes when the night sets in, and the settlement becomes quiet.
Only Mabel follows with a mischievous smile on her cute face as she hides behind bushes and trees. I won't rat her out, she's too adorable for punishment.
"And we had the tents on this clearing a year before." Hana continues, oblivious to the little follower. He finally calmed down after the misgendering incident. I mean her.
I'm worried about him, them, whatever. My brain can't follow. And they knew the Goddess, serving under her for decades, while I have no idea what I'm doing.
How could I impersonate someone I know nothing about?
[Notice: this is why I recommended keeping your identity a secret.]
Sure, it's easy for you to say that. You should've provided more background info about the Thirteenth Bride and the world.
That way I could have avoided this whole embarrassing scenario.
Well, not even the System knew what happened with Hank/Hana, it has been ten years after all. But her maker sure left me in the thick of it.
What if I told them more about the situation?
[New Quest: Keep your true identity a secret. Penalty on failure: Death.]
Yikes. That's way too harsh, can you even do that?
Fine. One week. I have to wait one week until Alex is back and sorts everything out.
"So how long you think you could fool us with this act? You're not the Goddess of Luck."
It takes a second to register what Charlotte asked. There's no transition, and she's right on cue. Are you fucking kidding? My eyes widen.
How? Why now? Did the System tip them off? Or they aren't the brutes you'd expect and picked up the pieces themselves. They're clean, cultured, smart, and armed with spears.
Wait, did she pull that out of her vagina?! She wasn't carrying any weapons until a moment ago, and Hana also has one in their hands.
They waited until everyone else left, leading me out of the village. What am I supposed to do now?
[Notice: this is a teachable fight or flight moment.]