[Ogre Camp]
Pushing past yet another ogre in the crowd, Darganth immediately received an angry stare as the individual in question spun around with a low roar. Having had the foresight to shift his transformation to that of an ogre, he met the challenging glare with a snarl of his own. However, before the one opposite of him could escalate the confrontation into a full fight, Darganth then released some of his mana, causing the tattoos he had designed his chosen form with to light up with a light, almost whitish blue tone.
Catching the slight shaking in his opponent's eyes, Darganth didn't bother any further and simply pushed the ogre out of his way while continuing on the same path as before. Behind him, Jennia, similarly transformed into an ogre instead of her usual human-like form, only had to slow down for half a second before the confrontation ended again.
Make a few quick steps when they resumed walking, she arrived next to Darganth, "How did you make them functional? Mine are only plain old tattoos." She asked, lifting one arm to show the black lines and symbols that her transformation had on it.
"I didn't. Or at least not functional in the sense that I replicated the innate power system that ogres have. That would be impossible to do with simple form-change spells such as our innate ones. A polymorph spell could do it, but I don't have to tell you why that would be a bad idea for us."
Jennia didn't even need to nod in response, so obvious was the reasoning to her and the others who overheard. Unlike transformations whose change is always temporary and mostly superficial, meaning the target mostly retains its original powers and gains the physical characteristics of its new form but doesn't gain any new magical abilities in turn, polymorph is a more far-reaching and potentially permanent change that also affects the subject's thoughts and behavior.
Even when using a temporary variation of this effect, this influence from the new species' behavioral patterns can lead to unwanted actions. And the longer an individual stays in its new form, the worse this shift becomes. Permanent polymorph effects do not even need to be mentioned as they do as advertised and permanently change a creature to another species, with, at least in willing subjects, no possibility of turning them back beyond polymorphing them back into their original species. Though some are immune to the permanent variation, with two of the most prominent examples being ascendants being immune to it when it isn't powered with celestial mana and awakened legends being universally immune, these effects typically weren't something someone willingly subjected themselves to, even if they have these protections.
Continuing a moment later, Darganth answered the original question, "What I did was simply replicate the glow. It actually functions similarly to the glow on the edges of my scales, so it was relatively easy, but I can teach you too. The basis of it is that the mana one passively emits reacts with a substance, which then creates the colored light. Theoretically, you could even make it so sensitive that this reaction happens even with the minute mana emissions you radiate without actively cycling your mana."
Intrigued by the topic and listening attentively, Jennia was just starting to think about what she could do with that knowledge when her musing was interrupted by a growl from their guide. With the rest of the scouts having quickly run off into the crowd, the ogre group's leader was the only actual ogre among them, despite the five people appearing as ogres in their group. That fact was something Jennia was thankful for when she snapped around and saw the snarl that marred his face in response to Darganth's words.
This also didn't escape Darganth's notice. Sighing as he was quite confident that he knew what the ogre's problem was, he interrupted before their guide could complain.
"Please don't start with this. I know how your kind feels about these marks and have discussed it multiple times. Yes, they are a visual manifestation of the uniqueness of your kind's innate powers and represent the deeds and capabilities of an individual. But the tattoos I'm using are a correct translation of my powers into you're kind's system, so I'm not using them to express a status I don't deserve. And most ogres I've discussed this with in the past have agreed with the interpretation that it is completely acceptable to use the actual symbols and not just random patterns. So are we good?" Darganth said, speaking quickly and with a certain finality in his tone.
However, his words didn't get the reaction he had hoped for, with the ogre's expression morphing into shock instead of acceptance, "You create runes of might?"
This reaction made Darganth spin his head around and look over his shoulder. Raising an eyebrow at the ogre, he looked at him in utter disbelief at what he had just heard.
"You don't?" Darganth asked.
"We interpret them. But only the chosen one knows rules. Translates into runes of might."
With a light chuckle, Darganth nodded in understanding to these words. The language that expressed an ogre's path of power was a strange one, consisting of both typical runes and components more akin to pictures than letters. Of these, the latter was responsible for much of the difficulty in learning this language. Whereas the runes were simply letters in an alphabet, though one with more letters than the twenty-six that the common language has, these almost decorative-looking lines connected the individual runic words to functioning sentences, with their structure being partially dependent on the words they connect and partially on the intent they are to express.
When reading it, this isn't a big problem. But due to the nearly endless variety of possible combinations, it takes experience or a lot of trial and error to create a correctly structured sentence when writing in this language. And as the language originates from the ogre's innate power system, there is no room for individual interpretations in the designs, with each sentence having one correct form irrespective of local differences.
These traits also explain why their guide hadn't initially been bothered by the presence of such tattoos on their transformed forms. Similarly to how the average ogre couldn't confirm whether the syntax lines on Jennia, Yldra, and Alicia's forms were correct, he likely didn't even consider the possibility that Darganth's were correct. And while the difference between using incorrect and correct runes of might when one didn't deserve either might seem insignificant, to ogres, it isn't. The former isn't actually using the language they see as holy being used to mislead others over one's own strength, something the latter does.
Though the fact that the chosen does know how to translate into these runes made Darganth curious, "Then my interest in meeting them just rose even further. I hope the earlier topic won't be a problem with that."
"Wouldn't dare. Learned shamans make rules. I just follow. And you know better than I."
"Good."
With Darganth's reply, their group fell silent. Around them, the festivities nonetheless still went on, bombarding them with noise now that it wasn't drowned out by their conversation anymore. This stretched for multiple annoying minutes, until Allaire finished her thoughts on the earlier exchange and stepped next to Darganth, held aloft by her aura so that her head was high enough to easily talk with Darganth in his ogre transformation.
"I always read it as ogres only barely tolerating shamans, but that didn't sound like that?" Allaire asked as she arrived next to him.
Darganth hummed in agreement to her words, "I'd assume it's because of the chosen. Typically, shamans are only responsible for healing and any rituals that the tribe does, both magical ones and those that are simply tradition. In these cases, the only way they are involved with the laws of the tribe is ensuring the sanctity of duels. Everything else is for the chief to decide."
"I'm not sure whether that is a good or bad sign for our alliance plans. So let's just hope that we'll get to the meeting with the chosen without any more problems."
"I wouldn't bet on that, not with an ogre tribe." Darganth said with a light laugh.
These words caused Allaire to sigh. Previously, she had always disliked the classification of ogres, goblins, and the other, similar species as monsters, but this past day has tested that conviction. While she still stands by the opinion that it was downright insulting to place them in the same category as the literal antithesis to existence that abominations are, ogres seem to be doing their best to prove that they were just below them in destructiveness.
What she saw on their path through the camp didn't change that assessment. Walking past one of the large pits not a full minute after Darganth's exchange with their guide, her thoughts drifted away from her conversation with him when she noticed that the ogres she saw in the almost ten-meter deep hole were quite small for their kind.
Excusing herself to Darganth, she rose a few meters further off the ground and hovered over the crowd that stood pressed against the dome of steel beams and chains that covered the hole. From her new vantage point, she was then free to focus her attention on the arena below.
And it was an arena that she found there, with wooden palisades about two meters high forming a fence on both sides of a worn-down path that connected to a heavy double door on one end. On the other end, these walls split to form a round ring. Around it, a dozens of ogres between two and three meters tall were gathered, with only a handful of adults standing amid the crowd as all of them watched a lone ogre child, or more likely the equivalent to a teenager considering they already stood at close to three meters, face down a boar type beast that came charging down the gangway and at him.
Not faltering in the slightest despite the nearly full meter in height advantage the beast had even on all fours, the young ogre waited as his opponent closed in. Once the boar came within three meters of him, mana gathered around his arm as he acted.
In a sudden eruption of heat, the skin on his right arm then burst into flames as the ogre met the charge with a simple punch. Aimed at one of the tusks, the strike tore through the protruding tooth right as the beast slammed headfirst into the ogre. As the two collided, the boar's other tusk tore into the ogre's abdomen while its momentum forced him back. Though for how much mass was behind the impact, it didn't do so by much, with the young ogre finally stopping the boar dead in its tracks after being pushed back a mere two or three meters.
Once the two came to a stop, the boar seemed to recognize its predicament. Letting out a series of panicked squeaks that were soon drowned out by the cheering of the crowd, it only had a brief moment to try and struggle free before the ogre's still flaming hand grabbed it by the neck. Seemingly relishing in his opponent's fear for a second or two, he then lifted the beast's entire body by holding onto the base of its skull with his fingers, causing its back to buckle for a few moments until the beast's neck gave in with a snap and its body sank limply to the ground.
Tugging twice more at the beast to make sure it was dead, the ogre then let out a deep roar of victory. Throwing up his arms to the crowd, both the adults outside the pit and his fellows inside it, he relished in their cheers. Even the tusk in his guts didn't bother him, only turning his attention toward it and wrenching it free once the crowd's celebration started to die down.
Noticing the next young ogre making himself ready as the one that had just fought moved to leave the arena with his spoils in tow, Allaire decided that she had seen enough. Ignoring the ogres below her that had finally noticed her at some point during the fight and were now looking up at her with frowns on their faces, she quickly scanned the area before flying to rejoin the rest of their group a hundred meters or so away from where she had separated from them.
"And?"
"Seems to be where the young ogres stay until adulthood. Or at least a part of it, considering there were at least a dozen tunnels that branched off from the pit."
"Tunnels instead of caves, smart. Most beasts and monsters that could easily slaughter them wouldn't fit into them."
Catching the huff of pride from their guide at his words, Darganth knew he was correct. As most ogres didn't raise their children themselves, the children of the entire tribe were typically all cared for by a few of its members who dedicated their entire lives to the task. This served both to teach the children the competitive environment of the tribe in relative safety, as well as to prevent the children from becoming abandoned when the rather poor parental instincts of ogres inevitably lost out to the insatiable hunger, causing the parents to join the hunts again far before the child was ready to stay on its own for likely days.
Part of what necessitates this solution is that ogres typically don't form romantic relationships, and they certainly don't stay with one another just because the mother got pregnant. Instead, those few relationships that exist in a tribe are based more on power and status, with prominent figures like the chief and other powerful individuals keeping those that they fancied at their side in exchange for supplying them with more and better meat than they could gain on their own. Ogres that could afford to feed these additional mouths were also the only ones that might raise their own children, at least if the child proves itself promising enough.
Though while this solves the greatest problem ogre tribes face in their propagation, the high ratio of children to adults watching them forces the former into one location. This naturally makes them an easy target for anyone who might wish to harm the tribe, so the children are often housed in caves, or in other easily protected spots like the tunnels Allaire mentioned.
"Then what's up with the crowd?" Alicia asked.
"They're having the young ogres fight against live beasts to prepare them for the real hunts." Allaire said with a frown, not directed at the question but rather the practice itself.
"Didn't know non-modern worlds also had college sports." Alicia said with a mixture of sarcasm and disdain.
These words earned her a glare from Allaire for the flippant attitude of her response. Sheepishly smiling at the reprimand, Alicia had the decency to hide the pride she felt at hearing Jennia chuckle at her words and not annoy Allaire even further. And it wasn't as if she didn't agree with her dislike of children having to fight to get more food, but she simply found joking about it a far better way to react than complaining as they couldn't do anything anyway.
Though she could also emphasize that Allaire might find it inappropriate in the situation. As such, she left it to her brother to lift Allaire's mood, which he did with the fact that most chiefs punish the adults watching them quite heavily if any of the children were to die. So while their upbringing is quite brutal, the vast majority make it to adulthood without major harm.
Amid the conversation that followed, they soon found themselves before a building that looked wildly out of place in the camp. Whereas the tents that made up most other buildings only used wood as pillars and support, if even that, the wooden structure before them was far more solidly built. In fact, it wouldn't be wrong to call it the first house they encountered that could truly be called such.
Noticing their guide stopping before it, their entire group paused the small talk they engaged in among themselves and turned their attention toward the ogre with them.
"Inside is the chief." The ogre said.
"Does he know we're coming? No, right? So lead the way." Darganth said.
"Not allowed. Only leaders inside." The ogre said.
Confused by the rule and its purpose, Darganth raised an eyebrow but nonetheless walked toward the door. Spreading out his mana sense as stealthily as possible to ensure the door wasn't trapped or that he was walking into an ambush, he cautiously pushed open the door when he found nothing of the sort.
When nothing happened, he finally stepped through the entrance. Slowing his pace as he did so, Darganth let his eyes wander from left to right and searched the room.
The first thing he noticed were the banners. Though only three decorated the room, all of which were of different designs, each one had at least one symbol associated with fire on it. In one case, this was as simple as a motif in the shape of flames. Meanwhile, another banner had the symbol representing fire in the runic language used in elemental magic placed front and center.
However, the connection to this particular element didn't stop there. Despite the wooden building they were in, Darganth's gaze swept over an open fire at the center of the room. Yet despite the open flames flickering in the room, no smoke gathered beneath the roof. Nor did the wooden beam holding it up show any scorch marks. This didn't change even as a gust of wind rushed in through the open door and caused the flames to surge with new intensity. Surging upward for but a second, the flames left the beam untouched even as they encased a part of it.
When Darganth continued his survey of the room, his attention next paused at the throne that stood opposite the door. More accurately, he became surprised when he was met with two thrones standing there. One looked as he would expect of an ogre chief, with it being made from unrefined metals that were likely pressed together and then carved into the desired shape. Its armrests and the wall behind it were meanwhile decorated with arm-length teeth and a singular skull that hung directly above the backrest and stood out as the crowning jewel of these trophies.
The other throne however wasn't something he had expected to see. Instead of unrefined metal, it was cut from perfectly polished obsidian that seemed to encase a central core of still liquid lava. Pulsing beneath the thin layer that formed the seat's surface, it kept flowing around in its container, creating a wandering pattern of glowing lines that shone through to the throne's surface. But to Darganth, all of that and even the fact that it was the larger of the two thrones paled in comparison to the fact that he recognized the design. Certainly, the exemplar before him held fewer details and was smaller, but it was nonetheless a good replication of the original.
Just as he started to process that surprise, a door opened in the room's back wall, just a few meters to the throne's left. The first figure that stepped through it was one that he could easily guess to be the tribe's chief. Standing at six meters tall and thus towering above a regular adult ogre by two full meters, the red-haired and bearded man was probably the perfect example of all the characteristics ogres valued.
Built far broader than a human scaled up to his size would be, the man proudly displayed his bulging belly, showing off his luxurious and abundant feasting habits. Flung over his left shoulder was additionally a mantle that consisted of multiple types of furs, leathers, and scaled skin pieces each. Winding around his back, it reached all the way to his right shoulder, where it then connected to a metallic full plate armor that covered the ogre's entire right arm.
There, flames could also be seen through the gaps in the black metal. These reached down all the way to the man's wrist, where they then stretched out as constantly shifting flaming constructs in place of the missing hand.
Behind the chief then emerged a second ogre. Smaller by about a meter, the other man was still massive for his kind and built even more stocky than the chief. But unlike the latter, this second ogre wasn't wearing any trophies or other decorations on his body. Instead, he was covered almost completely in an armor made from the same black metal that the chief's arm protector was made out of, with only the ogre's head being visible as he carried his helmet under his arm.
As these two ogres entered the room, they briefly paused to muster Darganth and his group, who by then had all also entered the building. Seemingly unable to draw whatever conclusion they were searching for, they turned back toward the door just as a third person entered.
Still walking toward the center of the room as that person entered, Darganth was fully frozen when he saw them. Standing at somewhere a bit under two and a half meters tall, at least when not counting the two horns that looked to be made from volcanic rock that sprouted from the individual's head, the last arrival looked tiny when standing next to the two ogres.
Though his red skin and eyes that seemed to contain a fire within them did fit very well with the flame aesthetic of the room. It also made the women behind Darganth quickly suspect him to be the chosen of the ogre's revere despite not recognizing his kind in the same way Darganth did.
"Is he the one you're searching for?" The chief asked, his speech surprisingly human-sounding for his kind.
"Yes." The red-skinned man answered.
"You know what that means. This will be a goodbye for some time, my master has need of me in another capacity." He continued, prompting the chief to respond with a slight bow.
"We'll wait for your return." He announced.
Just as the Chosen responded with a nod to this and was about to turn toward Darganth, the following silence was broken by a mad laugh from the latter.
"The chances. What are the chances of meeting your kind here?" He said, utterly amused by the situation.
"It isn't chance, your grace. But my lord will be able to explain it in more detail."
Just as the man then started to lean back with his eyes closed, Darganth interrupted, "I don't think we've met before, right? So tell me your name, I'll remember it until we can meet anew in more peaceful times."
"Traleor. And no. I've only had the fortune of joining you and my lord during the campaign against the rebellious universe of Saedrach, though I had only been able to contribute by fighting against the lesser foes who opposed us in enforcing Vunreon's mandate."
"Then consider yourself invited to my palace once I reestablish it." Darganth said.
"I'd be honored to visit. Hopefully, I'll have recovered beyond at least this shameful state I currently find myself in."
With those words, the man's eyes and hair ignited with raging flames. Behind Darganth, Alicia and Allaire both twitched back in surprise as the fire burst forth and consumed the man's body in but an instant.
For a brief moment, they lingered while no one spoke a word. Instead, all of them were watching with either curiosity, surprise, or anticipation until the dense pillar of flames suddenly imploded into itself, revealing a red-haired human that stood where Traleor had stood just moments before.
Immediately, the two ogres dropped to their knees in reverence. Almost touching the ground with their forehead as they bowed, the two muttered words of praise that were almost completely overheard in the situation.
Because at the same time as they had dropped onto both knees, Darganth had returned to his usual humanoid form and stepped forward with a wide grin on his face.
"Scalladras, old friend. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Darganth said with laughter mixed into his voice. At his words, the man's lips curled up into an elated smile as he too stepped forward and took Darganth's outstretched right hand before both pulled each other into a brotherly hug with their other arm.