Max surprised it slightly when he snarled right back, baring his fangs and narrowing his eyes. He reached for his own sword, and advanced toward the orc, trying his best to bring to mind his sparring session with Thelonia. He wanted this orc dead, and not quickly. It was going to pay for shooting Dalia.
The two monsters clashed, steel against steel, arms straining to overpower the other’s strength. Max’s gut pained him, not yet fully healed as his abdominal muscles were strained by the contest. Each movement of his arms caused a sharp stab of pain in his belly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Battleaxe rushing his direction. With the orc not using his bow, Dalia was safe for the moment. The dwarf rushed in, slamming his shield into the orc’s knee with such force that it crushed bone. The orc overbalanced with Max pressing against his sword, and fell backward. Battleaxe was there almost before it hit the ground, chopping downward with his hand axe into the orc’s exposed neck. The first blow nearly severed its spine, causing blood to fountain. A second blow finished the job, and the orc’s head rolled free of its body.
“Thanks.” Max grunted at the dwarf, putting away his sword and drawing his belt knife. He pressed the orc’s head tight against the ground, turning it like a bowling ball until the left ear was exposed, and slicing it off. He saw Dalia was back on her feet, and back to full health, though there were now a couple of bloodied holes in her gear.
“Guess we’ll need to be more alert. No more leisurely meals in the sunshine.” Max observed. “Do they normally work alone? Or in pairs?”
“Alone.” Battleaxe shook his head. “I be gettin’ old, letting that brute sneak up so close without noticing.”
Max resisted the urge to return the barbs that the sergeant had thrown at him at their first meeting… and failed.
“It wasn’t so much that he was sneaking, he just sort of walked up.” Max grinned at the dwarf, who’s eyes widened after a moment, recognizing the words.
“Ha! Ye got me. Ha!”
When Dalia raised a questioning eyebrow, the dwarf filled her in on the circumstances of their first meeting, and how he’d teased Max about the orc not needing to sneak. All of them shared a chuckle, then looted the orc. Max got a few silver, and no gear.
It was near dark when they ran across the next sign of orcs. Battleaxe was in the lead, moving silently, the other two following behind. Dalia was no scout, but as a druid she had at least some woodscraft skill, and moved much more quietly than Max, who might as well have been stomping his feet. No matter how hard he tried, even with some helpful tips from the scout, he just couldn’t avoid the snap of twigs or rustle of leaves.
So it was that when Battleaxe dropped to one knee and held up a hand for them to halt, Max didn’t manage to stop before stepping on a stick. Its snap alerted the pair of orc sentries that the scout had just spotted in a clearing not far ahead. Both orcs snapped up their weapons and scoured the forest with their eyes, trying to locate the source of the sound. Max held his breath as he froze, not even blinking. He knew from his own combat experience that a still target could often go unseen even without cover. The human eye, and those of many predators, sought motion above all things. When a searching sentry failed to find motion, they would then search for odd colors or patterns. It was just how the brain worked.
The two orcs grunted to each other, stepping forward toward the tree line, each of them raising a heavy bow that looked like they could shoot an arrow a country mile. Max’s pulse rate began to spike, and he considered reaching for an arrow, cursing himself for not already having one in hand. He saw the sergeant slowly look back at him and make an exploding motion with one hand while mouthing a word that made Max smile.
Pointing with his free left hand toward the farther of the two orcs, he suddenly stood upright and shouted “Boom!”
The two orcs both reacted quickly, turning in his direction and pulling back their bowstrings. But before either of them could loose, the rear orc’s chest exploded! Fragments of ribs, heart muscle, green flesh and red blood splattered all over the back of the lead orc. The distraction caused its arrow to fly off into the canopy. As it turned to see its companion dropping to the ground with a gaping hole in his chest, Max drew his own arrow and loosed it into the orc’s lower back where a human kidney would be.
Battleaxe leapt to his feet and charged forward, his shield slamming into the arrow, then the orc a split second later. He swung at it with his hand axe, but the blow glanced off its shoulder armor. The orc hit the ground with a grunt of pain, then immediately rolled to one side to avoid another blow from the hand axe. The arrow snapped in half during the roll, and the orc began to bleed badly even is it struggled to gain its feet.
The grass around it suddenly burst upward and latched onto the orc’s arms and legs, pulling it back toward the ground. Max was initially startled by this, thinking it was some kind of grassy version of a venus flytrap. A moment later he noticed Dalia waving her hands, and realized she was channeling a spell.
Unable to get a clear shot past Battleaxe, Max dropped his bow and quiver back into storage and grabbed his sword from his back, running forward. As the dwarf pounded at the orc’s chest with his hand axe, Max stepped up and drove the point of the sword through its throat, severing its spine and ending it.
Dalia teased Max about his big clumsy feet as Max claimed his ears, they looted the dead orcs and moved on. The sergeant picked up their trail, saying that two more orcs had gone back the way these had approached the clearing. He seemed concerned that they were moving in pairs.
After agreeing that Max and Dalia would walk twice as far back behind the scout as they had been, they began to follow the tracks. Max looked down at the large imprints in the grass and soil as they followed Battleaxe at a distance. He could barely make out the prints from the dwarf’s heavy steel boots, even though he knew exactly where he’d walked alongside the obvious orc tracks.
Ten minutes into their walk, Battleaxe stopped again. Kneeling down, he took a close look at the ground while he waited for the others to approach. When they were close enough to see, he pointed left and right, where several more sets of oversized boot prints converged with the trail they were following. The sergeant whispered, “There be at least eight, maybe ten o’ the beasties, now.” He pointed in the direction of original tracks. “Must be gettin’ close to their camp.”
“We can’t take on that many at once. And who knows how many others joined them from other directions.” Dalia frowned down at the well-stomped trail.
Max looked up at the lowering sun, then down the trail that likely led to a camp. He had an idea how they could at least find out how many of the enemy they were facing, but it was a pretty bad idea. Turning to the dwarves, he began to share the plan.
“You guys think you could get close but stay out of sight if they’re distracted?”
*****
This is stupid, Max. You’re going to get yourself killed.
The thought kept repeating itself in his head as he boldly walked down the trail, making plenty of noise, even whistling to himself occasionally. He had strolled nearly a mile along the now darkened trail already, and had not seen a single orc scout or sentry.
That changed when he reached the crest of a small hill and spotted the camp he’d been looking for. At the same moment, two orcs rose from the bushes on either side of the trail just ten paces down the hill. Both raised bows and took aim at Max. They seemed confused as they glared at him.
“Who you? What you are? Why you come here?” The one on his right demanded, its voice low and gruff. While they stared at him, he quickly stared back, casting Identify and learning that they were level ten and eleven.
“My name is Max. I’m a chimera, on my way to see the war leader of your tribe, but it’s getting dark. I thought I might share your campfire for the evening? I bring food!” As he spoke he produced two samples of his favorite meat on a stick, holding them out toward the orcs.
They both lowered their bows sligh
tly, sniffing at the offered meat. The one who had spoken before said, “Chimera? You smell like troll, and dwarf!” He refocused on the meat, then added, “Toss over here.”
Max obliged, tossing one, then the other to the right and left. Neither archer tried to catch theirs, letting them drop at their feet. A few more sniffs, and the left-hand orc bent to pick up his prize, keeping the arrow nocked in his bow with his other hand. He took an experimental bite, then grinned, exposing sharped teeth and long tusks that curved upward from its lower jaw.
“Taste good! You have more?”
“I have more.” Max nodded, “But only if you promise not to hurt me, and let me camp with you tonight. Maybe give me an escort back to your chief tomorrow?”
The two spoke briefly in their own language to each other, too quietly for Max to hear. Finally they nodded, both shoving the entire stick’s worth of meat into their mouths and chewing greedily before waving him forward. “You give more, you sleep safe.”
Max itched to turn and look over his shoulder to where he hoped the dwarves were waiting. They would be his backup should things go badly. Having them close by, even if he couldn’t see them, was comforting. Like knowing you had a really good sniper on overwatch as you cleared a village street.
As Max had hoped, both sentries turned and escorted him toward the camp, giving the dwarves a chance to creep inside their perimeter and find a good spot to wait in the darkness. Max made as much noise as he could while they walked, speaking loudly, asking questions and laughing at the answers regardless of whether they were funny. Just in case there were more sentries that might spot the dwarves moving in behind. The two orcs exchanged a look, clearly thinking Max was insane. But the promise of more of the tasty food kept them moving.
They led him directly to the campfire, where they reported to an orc that stood a full head taller than the rest. He stood very close to Max, looking down his nose at the intruder, who was about six inches shorter than him.
“What are you? Smell strange, look strange, talk crazy.”
“I’m a chimera. Part troll, part dark elf, human, and stonetalon. I’m half monster.” Max bared his fangs to prove the point. “I go to visit your war leader, and I carry a message from the dwarven king.”
“Ha! Told you he smell like dwarf!” One of the sentries elbowed the other as Max casually looked around the camp, silently counting orcs. He could see nineteen of them, and there were half a dozen crude tents made of stitched hides that could hold more.
“What message? I take to war leader.” The big orc held out a hand. Instead of handing him a message, Max plopped two of the kabobs into his hand. They were still warm, and smelled good enough to make Max’s stomach rumble.
“No, I must give him the message myself. It is very important. Your guards said I could have a safe place to sleep, and an escort in the morning, in return for more of this good food.” He produced another kabob in each hand and passed them to random orcs who had crowded in around them. Then another two, and another two. The remaining orcs quickly formed two lines and began pushing at each other trying to claim their treats.
Max paused, a kabob in each hand, and both eyebrows raised as he looked at the lead orc. “My name is Max. Do we have a deal? Or do we fight?” He gave the big orc a contemptuous look, making it clear he believed he could defeat him easily.
The orc had already consumed half of one kabob, and clearly appreciated the seasoning on the meat. He quickly slid the rest of the meat off and swallowed it whole, then dropped the stick. He held out his empty left hand. “Two more.”
Max happily handed him the two he was holding, then produced more for the others, including the two sentries who had walked him in. Smiling at them the whole time, he counted a total of twenty three orcs by the time he was done. The leader motioned for him to take a seat on a cut section of log, but Max declined. Instead, he kicked the log away, pulled the largest section of dragon vertebrae from his storage, and set it down in place of the log. Then he took a seat and produced a kabob for himself, which he began to munch on, purposely ignoring the silence that had fallen around him.
A moment later the lead orc asked, “Where you get this?”
Acting casual, Max shrugged. “I found a bunch of dragon bones not so far northeast of here. Thought I would carve this into a proper chair, later.”
Several of the group grunted their approval, thinking that a dragonbone chair would be quite the status symbol. More than one of them began plotting Max’s demise so that they could take it, and the tasty meat that Max seemed to have in unlimited supply.
Changing the subject, the leader asked, “What is message you take to Chief?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. I gave my word of honor. But if you’re curious, you could always come with me and hear it for yourself. Unless you’re busy out here, in the middle of nowhere?”
The leader grunted noncommittally, finishing off his fourth kabob and looking hungrily at Max’s. Max quickly shoved all the meat from his stick into his mouth, causing the orc to growl. A moment later, the growl turned to a grin when Max tossed him two more. Then he made the rounds, walking around the central campfire and handing one more kabob to each of the orcs in turn, trying to make sure he got every single one.
They spent some time eating, until Max held up empty hands, saying, “That’s all I had, fellas.” The leader growled suspiciously, and several of the others grunted and grumbled in disappointment. Max tensed, afraid that the lead orc would attack and try to steal the food he was sure Max was withholding. Instead, the orc yawned, scratched himself, and looked toward the largest of the tents. “You good friend. Give much meat. I take you to chief tomorrow. Two day walk. You have more meat for walk?”
Max shook his head, looking forlorn. “I’m sorry, I don’t. But if we can kill something along the way, I know how to cook more!”
Seemingly satisfied, the orc pointed to a clear spot near the edge of camp. “You sleep there. Sleep safe. No one bother you!” He half-growled, half-shouted the last part, looking around at the other orcs. They each lowered their eyes when his gaze met theirs.
“Thank you. I’m tired, I think I’ll turn in now. I’ll see you in the morning.” Max got to his feet, carefully depositing the dragon vertebrae back into his storage before walking calmly over to the indicated spot and laying out his bedroll. He made a show of looking exhausted as he rolled himself into the blanket, noting that most of the orcs were drifting away from the fire into tents or nearby bedrolls themselves.
He closed his eyes and listened for any footsteps that might be approaching. Max had to smile to himself when he heard Red speak from right behind his head. “So far, so good. Yes, I heard your plan. Seems to be working. A few of them are eyeing you as if they’re trying to decide if you’d taste good, but it looks like the boss’s order not to bother you is being followed. Go ahead and sleep, if you want. I’ll wake you if anyone approaches.
Max rolled his eyes, not able to answer without nearby orcs hearing. They already thought he was a little crazy, there was no need to reinforce that opinion. There was no way he was going to fall asleep laying in the middle of a camp full of orcs.
One by one they nodded off, snores beginning to echo across the camp. Eventually, Red clapped her hands. “It worked! Dalia’s powder did just as she said. They’re all asleep.”
Max rolled out of his blanket and stood, looking around the camp. The fire was burning low, but giving off enough light for his Darksight to clearly show him each sleeping face. He stretched his arms high above his head and arched his back, groaning loudly to himself as if he were sore. Not a single head turned in his direction that he could see.
Flashing a smile at Red, he waved in the direction of the trail, then drew a knife in each hand, and went to work. A moment later he saw the dwarves step into the firelight, then disappear into a tent. Max’s original plan was to wait until the early hours of the morning and try to slit as many throats as possible before the rest
woke up, then he and the dwarves would do the best they could. Dalia had modified his plan by producing one of the herbs they’d picked the evening before, along with a few other ingredients. She’d crushed them all into a powder, then had Max produce a few dozen of his kabobs, upon which she liberally sprinkled the powder. Then Max placed them in a separate slot of his storage, only to produce them a short time later to feed to the orcs. The slow-acting powder had put them all into a deep slumber, leaving them helpless.
Five minutes later, Max and the dwarves had all leveled up. Nearly two dozen orcs, all between levels ten and twenty, lay in their beds with throats slit, or dagger wounds through earholes into their brains. None of the trio had paused to remove the needed ears as they killed, not wanting to increase their risk. So now, as they moved around and looted the corpses, bedrolls, packs, and tents, Max took his trophies one after the other.
When Dalia asked him how many he had, a question struck him. He opened his quest log and highlighted the quest from Regin, then concentrated on sharing it with the dwarves. A moment later he saw them both straighten up at the same time, their eyes obviously reading the quest. Dalia smiled at him when she’d accepted, her question answered. The sergeant just laughed quietly.
After they’d gathered what they wanted from the camp, Max began tossing the bodies down a nearby slope that descended into a shallow gully. Indicating two now-empty tents, he told the dwarves, “I’ll keep watch. You might as well grab some sleep.”
The dwarves both nodded, the earlier adrenaline rush from walking into the camp and killing orcs was fading, leaving them more tired than normal. When they’d disappeared inside the quickly cleared tents and crawled into their own bedrolls, Max began sorting through his loot.
Mostly he’d received leather armor and oversized weapons. The orcs seemed to favor weapons that made a statement. Heavy swords with long jagged blades, spiked clubs that weighed fifty pounds, curved daggers with teeth near the hilt for ripping apart their victims. The creatures certainly had the strength to use the heavy and unwieldy weapons, but Max thought they’d be much more effective with lighter blades that were faster and easier to maneuver.
Battleborne Page 29
