Previous Chapter : Next Chapter
I returned to Heather’s Keep almost immediately upon the conclusion of my new friend’s Final Chapter. They needed some pretty high tier magic healing to get them right, as did many of the sell swords who survived. Along with some Ivan’s soldiers that we let live in the end.
There wasn’t much to do when they finished their conflict with Ivan, they simply returned home to Sovia. And I went back to town in Mount Dorrin. Of course I marched straight into the Braided Beard, where I found a group of dwarves talking about going on a fishing trip and immediately tagged along on a three day journey.
It was nice and relaxing. But it wasn’t interesting.
When I returned to Heather’s Keep, I once again marched my way into the Braided Beard, this time finding my dear old friends arguing over whether or not the zoo that Zorthos wanted to establish should have mystical animals or not.
Syrielle hopped up the second she spotted me. There was a look of relief on her face seeing that I was alive, “Hey there, heard you thought you could go save the world without us?”
“You know I’m pretty bad ass when I’m not with you guys…” I retorted remembering my awesome feat that finished the battle. “Maybe I need to step away from the gang to get to know myself a little better.”
She shook her head in disagreement, then she nodded. “Maybe.”
I went on to explain the intense battle I just endured. She was impressed at several points, but overall my sensei was very disappointed that once again I couldn’t beat a full plate knight in a duel. Though she thought the way I threw my sword at Ivan Pavlov’s throat for the final kill was particularly badass.
Their adventure was far more extravagant than mine. When they started killing the monsters in the woods, that they were assigned to kill, a bunch of wood elves defended the beasts. Nydorri thought this was odd, as the creatures were unnatural. So they discovered a group of witches that had placed a curse on the wood elves. The witches summoned black gooey monsters that were near impossible to fight. Right after the battle, a nearby town was attacked by giant birds. Which wasn’t necessarily related to the other stuff, but it happened.
After being briefed, I joined in the conversation about mystical animals in the zoo. I thought we should have them since we’re bad ass, but Zorthos was interested in the purity of zoos or some shit. I don’t think he understands the concept of a zoo, but it was his idea so we had to go with it.
We drank ourselves into a stupor, but thankfully nobody moved us. Apparently the dwarves in the braided beard were known for over serving their patrons and just letting them stay where they were. That’s what the janitor explained in the morning while he was cleaning up the pile of vomit next to me. “It’s bad business to cut people off, and it’s just not worth it to move them. People can drink around ya.”
The next morning we had ourselves a hearty breakfast. Syrielle immediately started the morning berating me as to when we’re gonna get some intense training at elevation now that we’re near the top of a mountain.
I overheard Roan challenging Gimble to more drinking contests, but the wise dwarf explained, “I’ve got a lot to do in the lab today. Big que this week.”
Roan scratched his chin, “I’d like to see this lab of yours.”
“Me too,” Glish hopped up on a stool looking down at the hill dwarf standing on the ground. “Liam told me I gotta come here and learn a thing or two.”
“Of course,” Gimble appeared as excited as any I’d ever seen before. “We’ll give you a copy of our instruction manual. It’s not long but it’s packed with information.”
Roan patted the hafflin on the shoulder, “Don’t bother with him. Kid can’t even read.”
Glish whined and confidently declared, “I’m smarter than you dude.”
“Look at him,” the human laughed. “He’s like 8 years old.”
The hafflin attacked the sailor. The fight ended poorly for the short one.
After breakfast, Syrielle dragged me out of the braided beard and into the nearby forest where she ran me ragged. Our friends were gonna spend some time doing some stuff in town, so we might as well get some work in.
About a week later, I woke up much the same as I always did. Near some vomit that the janitor was cleaning up. Once again I got straight to breakfast with my allies. Yet before Syrielle could drag me back out, we were interrupted by a young boy that came sprinting into the bar screaming at the top of his lungs. “ORCS ARE RAIDING! ORCS ARE RAIDING!”
“Listen here little fuck!” Vergusson rose to his feet like a proud grandfather. “Let me tell you a little story about orcs. We used to do all the fun stuff you’re talking about. Raiding. Pillaging. The other thing. But someone learned to read, and now there’s this thing called a treaty and you’re a lying whore.”
Glish walked up face to face with the kid. Arms crossed like they were squaring off. “You sure it wasn’t goblins? Some of them could have been a bit chubby.”
“Ogres?” Verg added. “Ogres can’t read. They can’t treaty.”
“Treaty Schmeaty!” Roan shouted. “What are we talking about?”
I handed him another beer after having just lost a bet, “Kid said orcs are raiding. Vergusson’s upset because he thinks orcs don’t do that anymore, so he’s explaining to the kid he’s wrong as politely as he can.”
“That’s not raiding!” Verg shouted at the young boy. “I’ll show you a fucking raid.”
Glish appeared to be the voice of reason for once. “Verg, leave the kid alone.” Despite seeming like the good one, he immediately tarnished his virtuous behavior by turning back to the child. “This one’s mine.” He scrunched his fist to his open palm.
Before anything else could happen, Gimble came bumbling through the door of the Braided Beard. “Roan! Where are you?”
Pointing to the far corner the sailor replied, “He’s over there.”
“Roan!” Gimble ran over to him. “Good, your friends are all here too.”
“And I’m also here,” Dwarfos declared. “Just in case you need my powers as well.”
“Right?” The actual dwarf was pretty confused, probably not understanding that Dwarfos doesn’t identify as our friend. “Anyways. There has been a nasty plague of violence afoot. For a few weeks now we’ve been hearing reports of attacks on several towns. We’ve all but confirmed the rumors. The orcs are raiding again.”
“Listen here little fuck. Let me tell you a story about orcs…”
“Verg buddy,” I interrupted. “I think we’re past this.”
“We used to do all the fun stuff we’re talking about.”
Roan chirped, “Verg it’s done man. You’re people failed.”
“Raiding. Pillaging. The other thing.”
“Just let him work himself out,” Glish advised.
“But then someone learned how to read, and now there’s this thing called a treaty and you’re a lying whore.”
Gimble looked to all of us for approval. “Is it over?”
I titled my drink, “That’s where he ended last time.”
“So anyways,” The dwarven leader took a breath and continued to explain the details. “They’re directly south of us. Last I heard they just began raiding homes along the Dwarf River.”
Roan burped, “Can I just say. Best name for a river.”
Stepping from behind him, in full plated armor, was none other than Doc. “And I will help you too.” He was holding a warhammerer in his very shaky hand.
Roan walked over from the bar all excited, “Doc I didn’t know you can fight?”
“Well I’ve had training,” He clarified.
“It’s basically the same thing,” The sailor said and I don’t know if he was joking.
The young dwarf’s eyes were wide with fear. His hands trembled as he spoke, “I can’t believe the first combat of my whole life will be against an orc raiding party…”
“Listen here you little fuck…”
Gimble and Doc quickly led us down the mountain to a nearby river. There was a boat waiting for us to take us down the river very quickly. On the back of the boat was something called a motor. It blasted water behind us and shot us forward as if the gods were carrying us themselves. Within hours we reached Rock Head Place. A small town on the river near a huge rock that looked like a head.
When we stopped off the boat we noticed much of the town was smashed to pieces. Some of it even looked burnt. Though most houses looked just fine. There was a small pile of dead bodies, wrapped in sack’s near the edge of the river.
A few people were near the dock, and scurried away when they saw us roll up. I hopped off first, walked off the pier to see more of them keeping their distance. Some guy carrying bags of grain was walking past, and when he spotted us he seemed very concerned.
“Hey?” I looked to him to see if he was willing to talk.
“You got a problem around here, you talk to Carl,” He snarled at me, then gave an even dirtier look to my friends. His pace didn’t slow one bit.
“So huh…” Glish looked around. “Whose Carl?”
“The leader of the town,” Doc answered with uncertainty. “This is Rock Head Place. Pretty sure the mayor’s name was Carl.”
“What is he?” Roan asked, seeming to prepare a racist comment.
“I don’t know,” Doc shrugged. “I’ve never met him.”
“We won’t know until we see Carl,” I joked, receiving zero applause.
Glish was scratching his head. “Well how do we find this guy?”
Verg thought for a moment, before falling to his knees and bellowing at the top of his lungs, “CCCCAAAAARRRRRRLLLLLLL!” A small group of people appeared frightened and moved away with haste.
Vergusson chased after the closest woman. Her pace went from a brisk walk to a full sprint but he still caught her in no time. His giant hands grabbed her whole arms as she screamed frantically, but the orc only shouted over her. “Are you Carl?”
She broke free of his grasp and fell to the ground as we caught up to him, but not before another man stepped in front of us. “I am Carl,” He announced, “What do you want?”
“Ah, you know Orcs,” Verg said happily.
Another man with a greatsword stood behind him and said, “Put her down.”
“Now now now,” Verg teased. “I just needed to find you Carl.”
“What do you want from me?” Carl was prepared to battle despite Vergusson not raising his weapon yet. The half orc didn’t even look like he was in an argument, let alone had a sword pointed at his face.
“Fight,” Glish covertly yelled antagonistically. “Fight.”
“I hear you know orcs?” Vergusson repeated.
“I don’t know any orcs.” Was the reply. “You’re disgusting and gross.”
Vergusson brandished his weapon as myself and Glish told him to put it away.
The hafflin stepped up to Carl as if he were a normal sized man looking a peer in the eye. “Carl there are far worse orcs that need to be slain.”
“What about this one?” Carl was confused.
“It’s better to fight fire with fire,” I told him, believing I’d end the argument.
“I guess.” He didn’t seem to be convinced.
His stubbornness irritated me. “Well what do you fight fire with?”
“Water.”
“Okay that’s a fair point.” Gods, I’m dumb sometimes.
Roan put his arm around my shoulder. “We like the bard because he’s pretty.”
Glish added, “He doesn’t know how to use that sword either”
I looked down at the little shit, “Oh we’ll see who slices more of them smelly bastards.”
Roan continued the conversation with Carl before our argument could even get started, “But we were told if we have a problem we should talk to Carl. And our problem is we’re hunting Orcs and we just don’t know where the hell they are?” He pointed at the damaged buildings around us. “I’m guessing you have an idea.”
Carl nodded, “They came at us last night. Maybe a dozen of them. They took out our town guard. We only managed to kill one of them. I’ve sent out some scouts. And other towns have sent their scouts our way. We’re not the only one’s. Orc’s all over just started fucking us up.”
“They could be back,” Verg explained to Carl as if they were comrades already. “Especially if you killed someone, there’s a lot of people here. Lots of stuff to take.”
Roan chuckled, “Probably nothing too nice though.”
The town leader walked right over to the sailor. “I will not have you insult my town.”
“Well I’m here to kill orcs,” Roan stretched his belt and let it snap back to his waist with a snap. “Not to make drinking buddies. Though I’m always open if you wanna change your mind.”
I walked over to them before Carl could think of anything to say. “Sir… If the orcs might come back, would you mind if we waited here to fight them?”
Nothing about him suggested he likes us. Still, he dislikes an orc raiding party much more. “The house at the end of the street. They took the poeple that lived there, or killed em. I don’t know. You wanna protect my town, you’re welcome to stay there.”
“Thanks dude,” Verg marched on towards the home.
“Wait hold on,” I shouted, and Verg stopped marching to stand where he was. I looked back to Carl and asked, “Is there anything else about the orcs we need to know? Anything at all?”
He thought for barely a moment, “All of their right hands were black?”
“The black fist,” Verg said without looking at him and kept walking.
“That it?”
“Yeah,” Carl shrugged. “I really don’t know much about the orcs around here dude.”
I thanked him then followed my own orc friend. He walked straight up to the house we were advised was free and kicked the door down. I was not a fan of that decision. “Verg why?”
“He said they’re not home.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
After very little discussion it was decided that Verg should stay inside away from people. Meanwhile some of us would go out and ask people about what happened. There was only one problem. We were friends with that orc that’s been acting like a jerk so nobody wanted to talk to us.
Nightfall wasn’t far off, so most of us returned to the house to rest. Doc wanted to go check out some of the other towns, so Roan and Zorthos accompanied him. Nydorri also wanted to do some scouting of her own.
While the rest of us waited I asked Vergusson questions about the black fist but he really didn’t have much to say. His father was the leader of the biggest clan. His dad’s best friend Punic was the leader of the second biggest clan, the Black Fist.
When they both took over their clans, they made a treaty not to attack each other. “After my dad met my mom, he decided he didn’t want orcs attacking people at all. They decided to raid other orcs who raided people. So, the other tribes decided not to raid people. And now…”
Suddenly, in the middle of his explanation, Vergusson dove straight out the window, basically crushing Glish as he went. I hopped right after him running out onto the road. About as many orcs as described from the night before were scattered about harassing people with their weapons. Two women were being dragged away by one the savages.
My own half-orc ally roared something in their native language. My bow was out before Syrielle or Glish even exited the house. The arrow I launched stuck in the lower left back of the orc dragging the women. Thinking about it, I shouldn’t have been confident I wasn’t going to hit the ladies I was trying to save, but a win’s a win.
My target squealed in pain, releasing his grip then pulling out his weapon. The rest stopped harassing the townsfolk to face me with absolute seething rage. Vergusson, without pulling out his weapon yet slowly began walking towards them. He was still yelling, but I don’t think he was threatening them at all.
One of the opposing orcs raised his weapon and shouted, while the others shouted the same thing from behind him. Glish suddenly appeared next to me and asked, “What are they saying?”
“They wanna kill us all.” Vergusson looked at me. “Apparently you hit Larry.”
“Whose larry?”
“The guy you hit.”
Syrielle walked over from the other side with her sword drawn but pointed down. “This isn’t over. I think we can still talk to them. Just be cool. Everyone, be cool.”
“Talk to them?” I scratched my head looking at the orcs salivating at the mouth.
The samurai shouted over my question, “No more blood needs to be spilled.”
Vergusson explained, “They don’t speak Manglish.”
“Then say it in Orcish.”
He turned and did so.
“Guys…” I grew very uncomfortable as Vergusson continued to yell at the other orcs, somehow keeping them from attacking. “Why did no one tell me we want to talk to the orcs? I see an orc dragging some pretty ladies away and my first thought is to shoot him.”
“I mean it makes sense,” Glish said, oddly defending me. “I say we let ’em have Elrin, even things out. And see what we can negotiate from there.”
Clearly I had a problem with that suggestion. “No, if anything I’m gonna fight Larry.”
“They’re about to attack guys,” Verg said. “Unless we like to join them or something I don’t know I’m kind of confused. I think he thinks we’re cousins. Or maybe we are cousins? They definitely wanna kill the bard though.”
Glish walked right past Vergusson holding a fierce finger in the air. “Tell them I challenge the leader to the right and name of the tribe.”
“What? No!” I snapped. “I’m gonna fight Larry.”
“No it’s one on one,” Glish declared.
“Yeah me and Larry,” I was eager for the duel at this point. But more because I hate Glish than out of my desire to fight Larry. “We got beef. It needs to be settled.”
“They’re down,” Verg said. “Larry wants to fight you one on one.” I gave Glish the nana nana boo boo face causing him to pout. I proudly walked towards the group of orcs.
Larry very grumpily walked towards me but before I reached them Vergusson stopped me. He first told me I needed to take off my leather armor. Which I did pretty quickly leaving me in just my pants. Then Verg stabbed me with an arrow out of my quiver in the same spot I shot Larry.
“Verg!” It wasn’t my worst wound, but I doubt I’ll ever get used to being stabbed at all. Even if it was a bit shallow. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Well it’s even now…”
Taking a breath I tried to understand his side. “Did they tell you to do that?”
“Why would they? We’re not friends.” Then he didn’t wish me luck and walked away.
I ripped the arrow out of my back, dropped my own quiver and bow, stomped towards them holding the handle of my rapier as badassly as I could. Verg grumbled, “Uh… Sword too.”
At first I was confused, then I noticed that Larry had undressed to just a loin cloth and held no weapon in his hands. He was much larger than me. A full half a head taller, with massive shoulders and biceps the size of Glish.
“They want me to fist fight him?”
Verg shook his head. “No I did. They agreed.”
“Uhhhh…” I looked between him and my opponent. “Dude, I feel like I’d be better with my sword here. I’m probably quicker than him and I just need one good stab. What the fuck am I gonna do against him now?”
“Oh that’s a good point?” Verg scratched his head. “I thought it’d be fun to watch a fist fight.”
Glish proudly reached up and patted his buddy on the knee. “Isn’t he fucking awesome?”
“The best,” I was sarcastic, but honestly Verg was pretty great.
Once I dropped my sword I walked towards Larry. Noticing the pain in my back was stinging more, but I felt fine as I stretched my arms leaving me confident it wouldn’t affect my movement.
As we grew closer I bowed to my opponent, and noticed he took the chance to pounce. Thing was, I had leaned into the perfect position to uppercut. And I was just a bit quicker. He dove square into the shot, it hurt, but didn’t stumble him backwards. I landed a second punch, but he countered with a left hook that clipped my temple, sending me wobbling backwards.
He threw several more shots, but I scrambled away frantically. Using every fiber of my being, every might of my soul to avoid another shot just for a few moments. I stumbled to the ground but managed to roll away when he dove for me and returned to my feet. As he was getting up, I landed a flying knee to his face before pushing him away.
It took him a moment to get up, but he was right in my face as fast as he could be.
I may not train to fight with fists as much as swords, but unless I’m fighting a foe that knows the nuanced differences, the basic footwork and reflexes were just the same. Knowing I couldn’t afford to take another big shot from him, I was able to side step out of the way of all of his attacks, and fake him in the wrong direction to give myself space.
Larry had no intentions of letting up. But I saw an opening of my own, kicking him in the side, bringing his hands down, then nailing another left hook to the face before backing away.
This time I successfully evaded his counter. I immediately faked another attack to his face, and when he brought his hands back up I kicked him in the body again. Then I backed out of the way, and created more space before throwing another quick combo.
He slowed just a bit. That lasted a few seconds.
The relentless onslaught continued, and I continued to counter while avoiding all of his shots before creating space again. When he charged once more, he didn’t react to my fake shot, and then I awkwardly tried to avoid his punch. He hit me with the follow up. It hurt pretty bad, but I had my wits about me. I blocked the next couple but he slipped one to the ribs that didn’t feel too good.
He threw another huge one, but I dodged when he overreached. Without even thinking I drove my feet into the front of his front right knee. It looked like it almost bent backwards, and I could hear the yelp in his voice.
Yet he wasn’t slowing down. Without any sign of compromised movement. I threw another uppercut then hopped back to dodge another strike. This time when I faked, he reacted, and I went straight for the knee. The yelp was much angrier than before.
So was the punch he overthrew. Giving me a chance to just fucking nail him square on the jaw. This one hurt. He didn’t go down, but he wobbled. I followed up with a couple more. And in my confidence I stayed within his range for too long.
An orc fist smashed into my chin, dropping me to the ground.
I don’t know how it happened, he must have done something very stupid as my legs wildly flailed, but he somehow missed the follow up shot and I slipped out underneath his legs getting behind him. Just as I returned to my feet he spun around leaving his neck exposed.
The thing about grappling is, unless you are an expert, you do not want to fight someone larger than you. Most would say you never want to fight someone larger than you under any circumstances but speed does so often kill when people are throwing punches. Small brawlers can be faster than you, and land more punches if all your doing is throwing your hands.
Yet in grappling speed isn’t nearly as big a factor most of the time. It’s more about who can push the other around more. That doesn’t mean it’s useless though, because sometimes you find yourself in a situation like the one I found myself in while fighting Larry. Where we were both out of position, but I was just the faster fighter.
And before he could stop me, my arms were around his neck in a guillotine choke. This position happens a lot in fights, but it’s rare that you get the arm all the way around, the hands locked, both bodies stuck together, and the legs wrapped around the back.
I had it all, secure as a vault. Tight as a fucking snake wrapped around a helpless prey. But he was not helpless, he lifted me up and slammed me. It hurt, but the thing about grappling is, I used my speed, and “I’m not gonna fuck it up now.” I shouldn’t have said anything, and I didn’t say anything else after that. I just squeezed tighter. As tight as I fucking could.
His hand went up my back, and his finger began digging the arrow wound. I screamed from the pain, but I squeezed all the more tighter. I was not going to fucking let go. The skin on my back was tearing away, and the other side was taking punch after punch.
I myself grew lightheaded from the combination of the pain and pure exhaustion. His mouth gurgled beneath my arm. I was literally crying. I’m not even going to pretend I wasn’t. Yet I did not let go. I was not going to fucking let go.
Not until the punches stopped and his legs started twitching.
When I released the grip and shoved his massive body he rolled off me like a corpse, but I could hear him snore almost immediately. My first thought was to get to my feet, then I realized how exhausted I was. So I stayed there on the ground.
My comrades were shouting something, but honestly I felt like napping. But then Syrielle commanded, “Make sure they know who won you little bitch.” I hopped right to my feet, having just a little more energy than I realized. Larry was just then gaining consciousness to find my foot on his chest as I posed for his friends.
They snarled with frustration, and I backed away so Larry could gather himself. Walking back to my friends I saw an odd look in Vergusson’s eye. He shouted something to them in their language. Then he told my allies “Alright they wanna fight.”
“I thought they’d keep their word…” I complained.
“Yeah but we won and I wanted to fight so I asked and they said their down.”
I spun around only to feel a javelin impale me through the stomach.
The thing about me is. If Syrielle is around, you do not want to fuck with me.
Even though I didn’t see which orc threw it, I could tell who it was just based on how many pieces he was in a moment later. All of my allies scrambled to fight them, and I rolled away to safety.
The largest of the orcs, was having a back and forth exchange with Syrielle while Vergusson was tearing through several at a time. Glish was popping off his crossbow, disrupting them as they came at our big barbarian. A few of the townsfolk were also up and helping, but they were nothing more than bodies to give my allies time to do what they needed to. Syrielle had the large orc’s head off pretty quickly. Afterwards she was pissed Vergusson killed more.
He was pissed she killed the big one.
Glish bragged to me that he killed two after I beat one but that’s bullshit. My fight was so much cooler than what he did. All he accomplished was shooting a few of them while they fought Verg.
One of the villagers who helped us claimed one of the pack got away. Prompting someone to laugh in the bushes. “Are you sure about that,” Nydorri came walking out, dragging one of the orcs by thick vines that bound his arms and legs together. “I figured you guys might not leave any others around for questions.”
Vergusson grabbed the prisoner and dragged him straight towards one of the nearby houses. Not the house we stayed in for a couple hours that we were considering sleeping in later, a different house. Once again he kicked the door down. This time there was a family inside that screamed and ran out the back.
“Verg what the fuck!”
He looked around, actually appearing somewhat guilty, “Well the door’s already down.”
After convincing him he was wrong we dragged the orc over to a nearby tree to tie him up. Verg requested we place the orc’s weapon near him but out of reach, “Like it’s mocking him.”
Who was I to argue with an orc about how to handle another orc?
We all four slapped the prisoner awake. I pulled out my rapier and pointed it at his face. Gish slapped him hard one more time. “Answer the questions damnit.”
“We haven’t asked him questions yet,” I pointed out.
“You’re ruining the image.”
“He doesn’t speak standard,” I countered, then realized I could be wrong. “Do you speak standard?” I was face to face. “Do you… Do you speak standard?”
Syrielle slapped him, “Answer the question.”
Vergusson restarted their orcish dialogue. They chirped back and forth for a bit. Our prisoner was kinda laughing a little, it looked like he’s still got some fight left in him. I growled at him pointing my rapier in his face. He was unphased.
They chatted for a while. Vergusson randomly looked over at us and said, “I told you.” Then he went back to arguing. I don’t think he realized we couldn’t understand what they were talking about.
The banter continued. At some point our captive looked at me and screamed “Larry.” We all knew what Larry meant. So I just licked my lips and taunted him.
“Verg what’s he saying?” Syrielle asked.
“Uh… Lovely weather we’re having here,” The half orc replied.
“Why haven’t you asked him anything important yet?” I barked. “Ask him about Punic.”
“They killed Punic.” He didn’t say it like he was sad which made me sad.
Still we were on the job, “Ask him about the treaty.”
“Oh the treaties off. If Punic’s dead and my dad’s dead, the treaty’s dead.”
He continued to press our prisoner with more questions. Death glares were being shot at us so Syrielle elbowed our captive and I lightly poked him with the rapier. The two started talking a bit more and without warning Vergusson just chopped his head off. He then turned around and walked out of the house without saying a word.
I followed him outside. “So, did you learn anything useful at all?”
Facing Northish he said. “There’s a bunch of them that way.”
“You sure?”
“He wants me dead so yeah he told me where the raiding party’s camp is.”
They couldn’t have been far, if they’d been sending different packs of raiders at a time.
“So just to be sure,” I pointed at the dead orcs on the street that nobody was doing anything about. “These guys were just some of them?”
“Oh yeah that’s how we roll.”
I didn’t like the way he said that. “I think you mean that’s how they roll.”
“Aren’t we about to go raid a bunch of people?”
While I still whined I at least changed my tune, “Can we at least wait for Zorthos and Roan? They’re pretty good at fighting, you know.”
Very promptly, the Sailor shouted from behind, “And Jerry and the boys. You always forget the important stuff.”
Standing next to him was Doc, as well as an older man in brown hunting gear. There were six more men behind them, also holding bows and arrows. “Hey,” The old man said. “I’m Jerry. This is…” He looked to Roan for approval. “The boys.”
The sailor was proud of his new friend. “Guys ready to kill every orc in Kayos I’m telling you.” He wrapped his arm around Jerry. “You need to get better at singing songs, because a killer like this deserves a poet for the ages.”
While I’d probably prefer Yarrick alone, over Doc, Jerry and the boys, I suppose I was grateful for the extra help. And what’s more, they know the exact location of the other orcs. Not just Northish. Verg probably would have just walked past the camp and kept going for days.
The tribe had taken Balkan’s Peak as their home base. Barely a few hours from Rock Head Place. It was a bit uphill at the end, but we were able to see it from a distance away, giving us plenty of time to plan an attack on the unsuspecting orcs.
From what we could see there were about 30 of them outside, and we could only guess how many inside. Verg just wanted to go marching in and create havoc, but we got him to promise to wait a minute until we did something smart first.
“Alright,” Roan muttered. “I’ll sneak around to the other side and try to pull ‘em towards me. Anyone want the first move or may I do the honors?”
Zorthos bedazzled his hands and transformed into an orc. “First move is mine.”
“Looking forward to it,” Roan looked like he had chills, and I kinda did too. The scoundrel took another look at the town and said. “Vergusson, maybe you come down the middle. Syrielle, how’s about you coming with me? Throw the big killers at ‘em from both sides.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” She crossed her arms with attitude. After taking a quick moment she said, “Roan I’m coming with you.”
“It would be an honor.” He snarked. The two of them scurried off.
The rest of the men looked at Doc for instructions, who of course looked at me. “Huh… Just form a perimeter and when Zorthos does something, start killing orcs. But not Vergusson. We like him.” Then I scurried off in the other direction but not far from where we all just were. There was a large tree I could post up behind to get a clear shot at the enemy once the pandemonium began. Jerry and the boys appeared to do the same, but nobody was close enough to get a good shot on anyone.
Though we didn’t wait long.
With almost no warning, there was an explosion in the middle of the street. Orc’s and body parts went flying everywhere. The roars of berzerkers’ rage tore into the night, as every orc not caught in the explosion prepared for war. Their screams seemed to awaken other orcs out in the woods around us who began to roar as well. A moment after that, the howls of wolves, and other beastly screams could be heard in the middle of it all.
Then I heard a series of loud bangs letting me know that Roan’s right thumb was lit up like a candle and orcs were getting blasting with stones.
Arrows from the bushes on both sides came flying out. Mine among them. They were too far for me to get a clean shot, but I got a two of them in the shoulder. As they scrambled around I saw smoke floating, not the way smoke usually floats, towards me.
It suddenly stopped and slowly condensed into a red blob that quite quickly became Zorthos. An exhausted Zorthos who looked at me and explained, “I’m fucked.” Then passed out.
One of the orcs I shot came sprinting out of the village into the woods. I don’t know what happened to the other one, but I have priorities here. He had a massive ax, and only one of his arms looked a little hurt. With that and the speed advantage it was over quickly.
My rapier was getting smacked away left and right. All I could do was dodge, without ever swinging. I wasn’t losing my balance, but any moment he could just take me.
That’s when a wolf jumped and bit his ankle. And Another leapt at his throat. Soon three were on top of him tearing him to pieces, completely ignoring me.
Two more orcs were charging them down, but plants from the Earth quickly snatched their legs, tripping them to the ground and slowly wrapping around their whole bodies. As they tore through their constraints Nydorri handled one and I the other. It was easy while they were distracted and immobile.
One of the wolves growled at me, but Nydorri whistled and the beast ran towards the village along with about 10 more of his kind. There was also one very large brown bear that was charging straight into Balkan’s Peak alongside them. The elf knelt down next to the helkin to check on her mystical comrade, “Protect him. We can’t lose him.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“Do Better.”
She became a wolf and took off down the road to bite another confused orc.
I fired a couple of missed shots from where I was. At which point, nearly every orc was out of whatever building they were in. Most were fighting wolves. There were several bears in the fray as well.
There were some pretty accurate arrows coming from the trees to my left. And some of the orcs noted that’s probably where they should prioritize things. One of Jerry’s boys, the youngest looking of all of them, had climbed the tree, and took out at least three with head shots from what I could see.
Though he hopped out of the tree as they came running, giving me the impression he was out of arrows. But I wasn’t quite empty yet, and I couldn’t leave Zorthos to defend him with my sword. So I just started shooting from there as the young boy ran into the woods.
Jerry came running from the other side, having also seen what was going on and started firing at the oncoming barbarians. We took out one each, and we were both very proud of ourselves. But then I had one on me, and Jerry had two with no support.
The orc attacking me was burned and bleeding. Much worse than the last one, and he had the rage of Larry. Yet as tired as I was, I was composed, I quickly sidestepped his attack, and killed him with my first blow.
I reached for my bow again to help Jerry, but noticed Doc was there. The 4 foot dwarf was standing on the chest of a 7 foot orc smashing hammer into head over and over.
The other was on the ground twitching. Jerry was shooting his arrow into the village uninjured. Though right as I looked I saw him fire his last one, and he took off into the woods.
I myself had barely any bolts left. And couldn’t move until Zorthos woke up. Not like I needed Nydorri to tell me that, I obviously wasn’t gonna leave my boy Zorthos just laying out here like this.
The unreasonable sight of a bear tumbling across the road caught my eye. When the brown beast stood up to attack back in the direction it came, a massive orc fist smashed into the furry animal’s face. The orc that punched her was the largest I’d seen all day. The left half of his body was torched by flames, while his right arm had a huge open wound pouring blood all over.
Another bear tackled him from behind, but he rolled over and punched it in the face. He had to hit it a few times, but eventually the bear was unconscious. The berzerker let up his rage, rose to his feet, and picked up a large war ax near the corpse of one of his allies.
He didn’t spot Doc sprinting at him from the side. But the dwarf stupidly screamed his own berserker’s rage just before attacking. The orc’s reflexes were quick and efficient. The side of the ax swatted the tiny dwarf like a fly. Doc smashed through a nearby wall and I could hear him crying inside the home he landed in.
The massive orc locked his eyes on me. His smile was not returned. He only took one step before someone shouted behind him. “Nuh huh… You’re fucking with me big dog.”
Vergusson’s own battle ax rested on his shoulder. He was covered head to toe in blood. There was a dagger sticking out of his stomach. A shallow wound on his neck. His left bicep was covered in blood. And he was smoking a pipe. I don’t know where he got the pipe.
The two warriors started yelling at each other in their own language again, and for a minute there I kinda thought we were all just gonna go our separate ways. Then they fucking unleashed on each other. Battle axes slamming together with an impact nearly as loud as the explosion earlier.
After a few more swings from both, the bottom end of their ax heads got caught on eachother. Instead of pulling away, Verg took the moment to drop his weapon and start punching. The blackfist orc did the same.
Despite his size disadvantage, Verg looked just as strong. My buddy was just a little bit quicker, and even looked a little more technical, but the blackfist just didn’t back down an inch.
Even when Vergusson was knocking him backwards the orc would just keep throwing. And then one of punches landed hard on the orphan’s chin. Verg fell to a knee, but popped right back up to eat another clean right hand that sent him stumbling backwards.
The massive opponent dove, Verg tucked his knees to his stomach, and then when the orc landed on his crunched feet he extended them outwards, sending his foe flipping through the air. As the blackfist landed, Verg rolled over onto him and began raining down punches.
The large orc grabbed a nearby brick and smashed it over Verg’s face. The half-orc tumbled off but began swinging immediately once they got to their feet. The black fist on the other hand, was backing away to another sword he saw near one of his fallen comrades.
As Verg landed a few punches, he quickly took a stab to the stomach. His first move was to grab the black fist, then he headbutted him. As the large burned orc backed away, Verg pulled the blade out, only to take another brick to the head. This one was thrown.
Before he could get his composure, the black fist lifted him through the air and slammed him on the ground. Then he grabbed Verg by the feet, swung him around in several circles and launched him at a nearby house.
My barbarian buddy’s body smashed through the corner wall. I heard him grumble for a second, then I heard some wood snap, and the whole house collapsed on top of him.
“YOU DEAD YET VERGUSSON!?” The orc screamed in the standard tongue marching towards the rubble. “VERGUSSON? COME OUT!” He began pulling the rubble away. “I’M NOT DONE KILLING YOU YET.”
Somehow over the yelling, we could all hear a soft, but also incredibly annoying, voice say, “That’ll be enough for now.” The douchiest hafflin to ever live stood there with his blacksmith/war hammer in one hand, and his dagger/longsword in the other.
“The fuck is this?” The orc stepped away from the fallen house.
“Name’s Glish Wick, of house beat yo ass and steal yo girl,” He stated his updated mantra after I explained it might be easier to sell t-shirts without the word fuck on them. “And I challenge you to the right and name of the tribe.” The blackfist threw a brick at him but he dodged. “Challenge accepted I see.”
With a laugh the orc charged straight towards the hafflin. Who then promptly dropped both weapons and sprinted in the opposite direction. Before I could even think to laugh, or scream or cry, Glish dove behind a nearby corpse and lifted up his fully loaded crossbow.
Right as his foe reached him, he blasted an arrow straight into his opponent’s screaming mouth. The hafflin dodged the incoming attack as well, and the orc was completely discombobulated. He bit the end of the bolt off, but tried to pull the rest of it out of his mouth.
That’s when Glish cut his ankles from behind with a dagger. When the orc hit the ground the hafflin climbed up his back, stabbing him in the side of the head. He finally collapsed to the ground motionless.
Just as the fight ended Vergusson pushed himself out of the rubble. “Alright bitch, you done talked a whole lot of shit. But wait til you see my…” He looked around then noticed the corpse of the orc he wanted to kill. And of course he saw who was on top of the corpse.
“You fucking killed him!” He screamed excitedly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so brightly before, “I knew you would buddy. You fucked his ass up didn’t you?”
“Bitch didn’t know what hit him,” Glish brandished his crossbow with pride.
Out of nowhere, Syrielle appeared next to me, “That was pretty badass.” She nudged my arm playfully. “What’d you do? Anything cool?”
“Well I mean I feel like beating Larry in one on one fist fight was pretty awesome.”
Roan, also seemingly appearing out of thin air to my other side, put his arm around me. “Such a disappointment you are. If only you could be like Glish.”
As Glish was doing a fun little dance another orc came dashing around one of the corners with one of his allies right behind him. We all prepared to react, until we heard a mighty roar. “DIE!!!” The Dwarf in full plated armor came flying off one of the roofs, smashing his hammer straight into the skull of the orc that was about to take out the unaware hafflin. As the second raider screamed a berserker’s rage for his ally, Doc roared back.
“Ha Doc, that guys’ an animal,” Vergusson was standing fully out of the rubble with his hands now on his hip. Despite his proximity, he showed no fear of the second orc attacking the dwarf.
Glish also took a step back and let Doc handle it. The orc’s sword smashed into the dwarf’s shoulder, as the hill dwarf’s hammer broke his opponent’s knee. Before the blackfist hit the ground, he wrapped his arms around Doc, but the virgin fighter shrugged him off with ease, then smashed him in the face.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking bout,” Glish shouted. The two short men chest bumped and hugged it out. It was immediately ruined by Vergusson not realizing he was over sized and sort of pancaking both of them.
Our other warriors had all limped their way towards us. Nydorri was rubbing her cream on some of the bears nearby, and refused to help the people until the animals were helped first. As I watched I asked, “Why don’t you always get the help of wolves and bears?”
“These orcs were hunting them like vermin,” She explained. “I could smell it in the air when we got here. They weren’t even killing them for food half the time. These wolves were eager to defend themselves.”
Jerry was shaking Syrielle’s hand. Even before he spoke I could tell he was in complete awe, “You’re one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen in my life. We were…” He looked at a young man next to him that looked much like him. “We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t show back up when you did.”
“That’s my thing,” She smirked and patted him on the shoulder.
Two of the other hunters that tagged along started arguing over who hit more targets in the turmoil. That’s when Glish walked over and shouted, “Hey song bitch. How many’d you get?”
“Took out three. But I had to stay wise and hang back,” I extended my blade to show off the blood. Then nodded to Zorthos as I began to wipe it off, “I had to keep my boy here safe after the big bang.”
Glish laughed at me.
That’s when Nydorri patted him on the head, “You were knocked unconscious early.”
“You were?” I crossed my arms giving the haflin attitude.
“And then I fought through it like a badass,” Glish bragged.
“I gave him a black berry,” She pointed out. The black one’s weren’t the best brand she had but they were damn good. More than enough to recover from a quick concussion in about a minute. Without ever looking at him, or me, she pointed at one of the nearby archers and said, “That one saved your ass before I got there.”
Bill, a name I learned later, was smiling confirming her story.
After laughing at Glish, I noticed Vergusson looking at the corpse of the large orc lying on the ground with a bit more ferocity than he usually looks at corpses. “You alright buddy?” I walked over to my young friend. “You know him?”
“Porrik,” He sounded hungry as he said it. “One of Punic’s nephews.”
“He the new chief then?”
The half-orc playfully put his arm around my shoulder. He took in a great big breath of fresh Kayos air. “You’ll know when you fight a fucking chief buddy.”