by Randi Darren
Nodding his white haired head, the Orc waved a hand at Vince. “Go. Go in pe—”
“I accept your challenge, since this old cur won’t!” shouted one of the younger Orcs. Stepping to the side he backhanded the elder, sending the older Orc to the ground.
Then the challenger ripped free a big war axe that was strapped to his back. “To the death! Fight now!” roared the Orc. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he began to pull his axe back to swing at Vince.
Unsheathing his saber, Vince went in fast and swift. Three steps and he’d closed the distance.
Lunging forward, the tip of his saber was aimed perfectly for the Orc’s throat.
Stumbling backward as fast as it could, the Orc raised a hand up in defense.
Only to lose two fingers as the saber connected.
As Vince began to pull back to a neutral stance, the Orc struggled forward, trying to ignore its injury.
Lifting the axe up over his head, the Orc made a forward lunge.
Stepping to the side, giving up on trying to get back to a neutral state, Vince crossed one foot over the other.
Moving forward the Orc practically fell past Vince, his axe leading the way.
Snapping out his left hand with lightning speed, Vince snatched the back of the Orc’s hair as he went.
Drawing up his saber over the Orc’s head as he stepped in close he dropped the blade to the green neck. At the same time he pulled on the Orc’s hair.
Bending the Orc backward at an unnatural angle, Vince stared into the crowd. As coldly as you could filet a fish, Vince began to saw his saber back and forth through the Orc’s throat.
Gurgling and sputtering could be heard.
Then the whistling of a windpipe and the spatter of raspy breathing through blood drowned everything out like a thunderstorm.
Vince turned his eyes on the young Orc who had acted as a lieutenant. Waiting for two beats of his heart Vince turned his sword over to rest the point on the Orc’s chest.
Then he pushed it into the dying Orc’s chest at his feet. Straight into his heart.
With a twist of the blade he pulled his sword back out.
Dumping the soon to be corpse face forward into the grass, Vince flicked his blade out to the side, sending blood spraying into the crowd as it flew free from his sword.
His opponent hadn’t been unskilled, he simply underestimated Vince. If anything, he was as strong and as fast as Fes.
“Next,” Vince said without humor, tilting his head to one side.
The other young Orc was panting, a sword held loosely in one hand. Vince wasn’t sure if he’d attack out of rage or simply swallow it.
“Make sure it’s a challenge. I’d hate to kill you in cold blood,” Vince said, pointing his saber at the visibly angry Orc.
Snuffling, the sword moving back and forth in small twitches, the Orc seemed unsure now.
“As I’ve now conquered your champion, I’ll take my passage. As well as a small amount of food and water,” Vince said, lowering his blade.
The old Orc was standing now, blood flowing down from a cut on his cheek. His eyes were stuck on the dead Orc between them.
“For what it’s worth, I had no desire to kill him. I only wished to pass through. He didn’t need to die,” Vince said without concern.
Vince slipped his sword into its sheath and looked to Thera.
At that moment the younger Orc screamed a bloody yell and leapt at Vince.
Red was there in a flash, one clawed hand burrowing into the Orc’s throat as if it were made of clay.
Yanking her hand free with a gob of flesh in it she eyed it critically. Then Red licked at the bloody mess and made a face.
The charging Orc fell to his knees, his hands pressed to his gaping throat.
“Finish him, Red. There’s no need to let him suffer,” Vince murmured.
Red looked at him and blinked, her red eyes glittering. “Red understands.”
Lifting her gore-filled hand up, she stepped around behind her kill. Then her hand shot out, her fingers shearing the Orc’s spine.
As if he were a tree top cut from its trunk, the Orc limply dropped to the grass.
Looking around, Red shifted her stance until it looked as if she were imitating Vince.
“Next,” she growled, dropping the fleshy chunk that had still been in her hand. Then she moved her head to the side, in the same manner Vince had.
Imitation is the greatest form of flattery. I guess.
Slowly, the old Orc got down to his knees in front of Vince and bent his head down.
“We will honor your victory, and apologize for the shame of our second attacking you outside of a challenge.”
Vince didn’t care one way or the other, and was simply happy to be done with this.
“Fine, I accept. We’ll take some food, water, and be on our way,” Vince said. Turning to Eva he pointed a thumb back the way they came. “Off with you, my Wood Elf, go get everyone moving.”
Ducking her head, Eva was off in a flash.
“Ah, the warmaster had just ordered his meal to be cooked. He’d caught his own meat and brought it back,” said the elder, motioning to a big black cauldron hanging over a stack of unlit wood.
“Oh? Stew?” Vince walked over to the cauldron.
“Yes, we’d just begun letting the meat marinate. It was meant to be his meal, so now it’s yours.”
Oddly, the cauldron had a latch on it.
Some form of pressure cooking?
Unwinding the latch, Vince pulled the lid off and looked inside.
He couldn’t help it, they’d been eating very limited amounts of food for days.
Hunger was his name.
Except that what was inside wasn’t a stew.
It was a head. A head that was staring back at him.
Large purple eyes glared at him. They had a purple iris with glittering sparks in them. They were also so large that she couldn’t possibly be human.
Those purple eyes were set in an elegantly sculpted face with very clean features. She had a sharp jawline and delicate cheekbones.
Her hair was a dirty blonde color and plastered to her face and neck. It probably fell down to just past her shoulders when it wasn’t soaking wet.
She was watching him watch her. While she sat there wading in what could only be soup stock.
A carrot bobbed up against her chin and then slowly floated away from her.
“Hey there,” Vince said finally.
“You stink of life magic,” said the woman in a surprisingly high pitched voice.
“Oh. I see.” Vince set the lid back down and latched it tight.
Inside the pot, the woman had started yelling. Vince could hear the sound of her fists hitting the inside of the pot in between her shouts.
Chapter 11
Locking eyes with the elder, Vince pointed a finger at the pot. “There’s a woman in that pot,” he said slowly.
“It’s a Gnome,” the elder said, bowing his head. “The warmaster caught her and had decided to eat her for dinner. He has… had… an unclean preference for cooking his meal alive. Would you prefer the game killed and cleaned properly first?” asked an Orc who moved up beside their elder.
It would seem they didn’t have a problem eating other races.
At least they have a problem with cooking her alive?
Behind him, the gnome continued to shout and bang on the inside of the cauldron.
“That’s… ok. I think I’ll just—” Vince stopped, hesitating. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t owe the Gnome anything, but neither did he really like the idea of leaving her in a pot to be cooked and eaten because he didn’t lift a finger. “I’ll… take her with me and eat her later. I’m not that hungry right now. I’d be perfectly happy with some bread.”
“Bread,” the elder said, staring at him.
She’s… probably naked.
“Bread. Could you fetch me the Gnome’s clothes while you’re g
etting me the bread? Something to dry off with, too.”
The old Orc walked off, calling to several other Orcs as he went. All around them the gathering of green-skins broke up. A few remained behind to watch and gawk, but even they left when it was apparent the entertainment was over.
That or when Vince stared at them till they moved on.
Glancing over his shoulder when the Gnome went silent, Vince found Red peering into the giant pot.
“Red is my name. Red thinks you’re rude to Bringer. Red should kill you. Eat the red thing in your chest,” growled the Cursed One.
“O-o-o-oh my. I… I… I’m sorry,” came the echoing reply.
“Red,” Vince called.
Guiltily, the cat woman’s head whipped around, her red eyes focused entirely on Vince.
“Get her out of there. We’ll be letting her go after we get out of here. Don’t hurt her,” Vince ordered.
“Red will do this,” said the Cursed One. Looking into the pot, her hand shot forward. The splash of water and a choked squeak were the only indication of what’d happened.
Before he could say anything, Red lifted the Gnome out by her neck.
The diminutive woman kicked her feet back and forth as her hands pried at Red’s wrist.
She was indeed wearing only her birthday suit.
Her body was undersized, but not disproportionately so. She seemed more like a small human than anything. Everything fit and looked right.
She even managed to sport what looked like a full B-cup to Vince.
“Red put small woman down?” she asked.
“Yes, put her down on the grass. She’s not going anywhere. Don’t hurt her.”
“Red not hurt Bringer’s Gnome,” agreed Red, nodding.
Setting her down on the grass, Red watched closely. As if daring the Gnome to run so she could chase her down.
So predatory that it hurts. I wonder how Fes will react.
Taking gasping breaths, the Gnome covered her chest with one arm as her hand snaked down towards her privates.
Taking a moment to compare her height to Red, he’d probably put her at a maximum of four feet tall.
She glared at Vince, her big purple eyes swirling with color and motes of light.
“And what would you have of me then?”
Reaching out he plucked a chunk of potato free from her hair and flicked it aside.
“Nothing. Though you’re supposed to be my dinner by virtue of the fact of those two corpses,” Vince said, nodding at the two dead Orcs. “For now, I’ve asked for your clothes back and some bread. I plan on leaving as soon as my people arrive. After we quit this place, do as you will. I care not.”
Vince shrugged his shoulders and turned to Thera. “How long do you think it’ll be?”
“An hour, Lord. They’ll move quickly.”
“Great, go round up what food and water they can spare but don’t overdo it. If they don’t have anything, hit the surrounding areas and see what we can bring down.”
“D-d-don’t ignore me,” came the muttered voice of the Gnome.
Turning his head towards the Gnome he held up his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry, I thought our conversation was through. Was there something more?”
“Why is it that a mage of life magic has a familiar born of curse magic?”
“You mean, Red? Well, first she’s not my familiar she’s…. actually I wouldn’t even know how to word what she is to me. As to me being a life mage, not at all. I’m a Ranger.”
“You reek of life magic. It bleeds off of you. You’re untrained in magic?”
Vince wrinkled his nose at the memory of Elysia trying to train him in Elven magic. “I had someone try to teach me Elven magic and it failed miserably.”
An Orc came over and dropped a pile of clothes onto the grass next to the Gnome and what looked to be a torn tunic.
“First, my name is Leila,” said Leila the Gnome. Fidgeting with herself she pressed her legs tightly together and then took the hand from her nether region to pick up the ripped tunic. She began to dry herself off with it.
She made the occasional sound of disgust as she dislodged bits of whatever had been in the pot with her.
“Name’s Vince.”
“As for Elf magic. Of course it did. Elven magic requires Elven blood,” grumped Leila.
Her cheeks turned a furious red as she tried to dry off her thighs without revealing more of herself.
Sighing, Vince turned to the side and faced away from the small woman.
“Oh god, what is that?” said Leila. “Is… is it meat?”
“You were saying?” Vince prompted.
“Magic! Yes. Elven magic requires their blood. So of course it failed. Proper magic is done through study and proper conduits,” Leila said excitedly. The nervous woman vanished somewhere between talking about anything other than magic, and talking about magic.
Fan of magic are we?
“Conduits like how?”
In the distance Vince could see his rabble of Elves on the move. They were on the horizon but still a very long way off.
“Oh, simple things. Wands, pendants, rings. Each conduit is unique in the making and is different for everyone. Proper conduits will end up getting replaced as the mage grows in power.”
“And where’s yours?” Vince asked, moving his eyes back to the Gnome.
He got an impressive view of her chest and nethers as she worked herself into what looked like a sundress.
For as different as people claimed they were, Gnomes seemed incredibly similar to short Humans.
Then her head popped out the top and her huge purple eyes were staring back at him. Her cheeks turned an instant crimson as she yanked the hem of her dress down, covering herself.
“I-I-I was in the middle of changing conduits. It takes a few days to make them. When that Orc caught me,” Leila said, her hands straightening her clothes as best as she could.
“Hm,” Vince said, staring at Leila for a few more seconds. The Gnome squirmed, turning her profile to him as if to limit herself. She began to work at her hair, trying in vain to dry it of the soup stock.
“Probably should get yourself a new conduit then.”
“I shall. Where are you going?”
“Yosemite city.”
“Yosemite city? I don’t think I’ve heard of it,” mused the Gnome.
“Not surprising. Alright, well, you do what you need to do.”
Scratching at his cheek, Vince sighed.
“Come on, Red. Let’s go poke around some.” Vince turned and set off. He didn’t want to sit idle.
“Red is unsure of the meaning to ‘poke around.’”
“Look for food. See if we can find anything to feed our people.”
“Feed? Bringer will feed Red? Reward for Red?” asked the Cursed One as she scampered up to his side.
Fighting for control with his inner demon as the monster in his loins rose up screaming at him, Vince considered her request.
It couldn’t hurt to let off a bit of steam. Could it? It’s not like it’d hurt her and she’s asking for it.
“Sure. Why not.”
“What if I taught you magic?” shouted Leila at his back.
Stopping dead in his tracks, Vince looked to the grass in front of him.
He knew he was full of power. He constantly drained it into the Elves to empower them. What if he could actually use it directly?
“And what’s the price for such an education?” Vince asked, not turning around.
“Food, shelter, the chance to study you and your familiar.”
“Fine.” Vince started walking again.
A simple bargain. Or so he hoped.
Thera had been right on the timeline. The Elves arrived fairly quickly.
Unfortunately though, there hadn’t been much they could take from the Orcs without endangering their own ability to feed themselves.
Vince was no tyrant.
Standing to the side as his weary gr
oup of Elves trooped along, he couldn’t help but look forward to getting home.
And dread it at the same time.
He was a Ranger. Born and bred practically.
To him the rolling Wastes were a danger and a threat all their own, but they were also a second home.
His actual home was just where he put his boots up between runs.
How long would he be trapped in Yosemite this time before he found a reason to escape?
A week? A month?
A year?
Sighing, Vince scrubbed his face with his hands, dreading the idea of being locked up in Yosemite for a while.
At least he wasn’t alone though. He did have everyone.
And children. I… I should have children by this point. Right? I should have kids waiting for me.
Shuddering from head to toe, he didn’t know how to process that thought.
“Bringer cold?” Red asked, her reflective eyes glued to him.
Snorting, he shook his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “No. Just thinking about what’s waiting for me when we get home.”
“Oh. What is waiting for Bringer?” Red inquired, moving over to sit in front of him.
“Children,” Karya said, leaning on her staff as she watched the Elves walk by. “A few children.”
“Bringer has small ones?” Red asked, staring down any Orc who would make eye contact with her.
“I do now. Several of my wives were pregnant when I left. They were due to be born while we were away. Not sure what to do with them when I get there. Never been good with children.”
“You’ll do fine, Master. Things will work out,” Eva said.
“Yes, Lord. All it takes is patience and practice,” agreed Thera.
“Bringer do fine.”
The end of the mob of Elves was coming. They’d fall in behind that section and carry the rear in case the Orcs decided to do something.
The rest of the Dryads were spread out to keep everyone moving and together.
Across the way, the old Orc was walking in their direction. Behind him, a large number of Orcs had been forming up.
“What’s this then,” Vince murmured, watching.
As the last Elves passed, the Orcs turned away from their camp, and began trundling along after the Elves.
On their backs, in their arms, and in small wagons were whatever possessions they decided to take with themselves.
