An Orc at College: A Contemporary Sword and Sorcery Harem Fantasy

by Liam Lawson

  Tibs laughed. “Probably best not to rely too heavily on enchantment cheats when it comes to personal interaction, ya know. People are way more complex than even the most advanced spells.”

  “That’s surprisingly deep,” Trorm said.

  Tibs slapped a hand to his own chest. “Surprisingly? I happen to be a bard of great and still growing renown. It would be surprising if I didn’t have something to—oh hey Mary!”

  A cute girl with curly hair stepped in front of them, grabbed Tibs by his leather jacket, and pulled him into a scorching kiss. She whispered something into his ear and then kept on going as if nothing had happened.

  Tibs grinned up at Trorm. “See? I am an awesome bard.”

  “I think I hate you just a little right now,” Trorm said.

  Tibs laughed. “Only a little?”

  Trorm grinned. “Wait until you meet my date tonight.”

  Chapter Eight

  Arlen and the others were supposed to meet Trorm at the Sigma Kai Epsilon party, which was being held in a rented-out warehouse that had been designed specifically to host the “sickest” of college parties. He would give them the silly paperweight, be done with their trial, and earn his new war name. More importantly he would secure his place among his fellow teammates.

  Not to mention actually getting to enjoy the party. He and Winnie made their way up to the warehouse from where their Uber driver had dropped them off. Winnie looked like a vision. A sexy, sensual vision in a dangerously short dress with a low back and heels that did wonderful things to her legs and ass. He knew she knew he was watching her. They both knew the other enjoyed it.

  A part of him had been afraid that she’d say no when he’d asked her to come with him. She was a cheerleader and clearly not hurting for options. Also, she was gorgeous. Not just because she was a lagothrope, although bunnygirls rarely went without male attention, but because there was simply something about her. An energy that screamed her love for life.

  But she’d said yes and now he was arriving with her on his arm, the paperweight in a small satchel, and his staff in his free hand. He gave her another look as they approached the doors.

  Winnie Zamora

  Gender: Female

  Emotion: HAPPY

  Interest Level: 9

  He wished he had a greater sense of context for the interest levels. What was the scale? Without knowing that, the numbers were all but arbitrary. Were they even accurate? Tibs had a good point about trusting enchantments when it came to interacting with other people. Even so, it was reassuring to know that she was happy to be there with him.

  She looked up at him and her gaze momentarily took on a sultry cast. AMOROUS.

  Trorm swallowed. She laughed and bounced up and down against him. “This party is going to be amazing!”

  They were stopped at the door by a tall young man in a suit. Not so tall as Trorm but few human men were. He was clearly a frat brother and asked after their invitations.

  “Tibs told me to say we’re with him,” Trorm said.

  The frat brother grinned. “He said you were coming. Players are always welcome at our events. Kegs are in the back.” He gave the back of each of their hands a stamp. “Though since you’re underaged you might want to stick to the bar where they have soda and stuff.” He said this with a grin that Trorm could quite read.

  CONSPIRATORIAL the glasses supplied. Trorm grinned back. He was fairly sure they couldn’t have told him that before. He’d have to thank Abigail for fixing them. And ask about that interest level thing. What did dating sims have to do with her repair work?

  The band was still getting set up on stage, Tibs among them, when they walked in. Winnie let out an excited yell and practically dragged Trorm over to them. “It’s Bananas Eating Monkeys! It’s Bananas Eating Monkeys!”

  Tibs looked up and waved at them. “Hey Trorm!”

  Winnie pulled up with a gasp, looking from Tibs to Trorm. “You really are friends with the lead singer? I thought that was just a line to get me to come out with you.”

  Trorm cocked his head. “I wouldn’t lie to you to get you to go out with me. I try not to lie at all. Think my life might be easier if I did.”

  Her interest level changed from 9 to 10. She grinned and leaned into him. “Don’t change that.”

  “Now that’s a first,” Tibs said, walking up to them.

  “What is?” Trorm asked.

  Tibs held up his hands, as if making an offering. “Normally girls don’t stop looking at me when their dates bring them by.” He flashed a grin. “Gives me hope for love, seeing y’all.”

  A pair of girls skipped up to them, both curvaceous with dark hair and eyes. They clearly weren’t siblings but they’d dressed alike. Each took one of Tibs’ arms and pulled herself to him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

  “Who’re your friends, Tibs?” asked the one on the right.

  “I’m Winnie,” Winnie said beaming.

  “That’s Winnie,” Tibs said with a teasing grin. “And this is our future star quarterback and wizard extraordinaire, Trorm Coldstorm.”

  Trorm nodded in greeting. “Love huh?”

  Tibs gave an unapologetic grin. “It comes in many shapes and flavors my friend. Don’t dismiss it because mine looks different from yours.”

  Trorm laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Speaking of different though, what the hell’s with the staff? You got a neat party trick or something?”

  “Or something,” Trorm said. Last night he’d felt naked without it having to undergo the trio’s ritual. Bringing it would have been a mistake. He knew that. It didn’t mean that he hadn’t keenly felt its absence. And in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but remember the attack on the Roaring Stag. Would they all have survived if he hadn’t brought his staff with him?

  It didn’t warrant consideration. He had brought the staff. They had survived. He had brought the staff again. If he needed it, he would have it.

  Except that dancing with it quickly proved impossible as the night wore on. Winnie took it from him and did an improvised pole dance that had the entire crowd cheering and left Trorm wanting to rip off her dress and have her right behind the warehouse. Only honor held him back. This was their first date. As he understood it, a sexual act between them this night would dishonor Winnie. He would not be the one to do that to her, no matter how badly he wanted her.

  They left the dancefloor together to stow his staff and satchel. The longer Trorm held onto that thing, the more idiotic he felt. Who kept a bag on them at a party? Even women put away their purses.

  As they pulled away, they ran into a familiar face. Clare’s outfit wasn’t as daring in cut as Winnie’s. It made up for this by being incredibly tight, leaving absolutely no detail to the imagination. She looked good.

  “Hi Trorm,” she said with a smile. Her eyes fell on Winnie and the smile faltered.

  Clare Blanchard

  Gender: Female

  Emotion: CONFUSED

  Interest Level: 6

  Trorm resisted the urge to scowl. What did she have to be confused about?

  “Hey, Clare,” Winnie said, tilting her head. The slight gesture was made almost dramatic and utterly adorable by her long ears.

  “What happened last night?” Trorm asked bluntly.

  Clare’s face became confused. “Last night?”

  “Yeah, at the Wild Hoop,” Trorm said. “We were dancing and then you ditched me when Dr. Hunt showed up.”

  Clare shook her head. “I wasn’t at the Wild Hoop last night. A sorority sister was having her bachelorette party. I told her she should have waited for the weekend but there was some kind of significance to the date.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I think it’s when she lost her cherry.”

  What did fruit have to do with anything? “We went on a date. I bought you dinner and wine. We danced. You vanished.”

  HURT. ANGRY. “I don’t know what or wh
o,” she looked pointedly at Winnie, “You did last night at the Wild Hoop. But it wasn’t me.” She spun on her heel and marched off.

  “I think I offended her,” Trorm said.

  “Probably,” Winnie said sagely. “I saw her there with you though, so that bachelorette thing’s got to be, like, total bullshit. Right?”

  Trorm wasn’t so sure. The sunglasses had said that she was genuinely confused. Then again they’d also said that Nymal was a girl, so maybe Abigail’s “upgrades” weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

  He found the coat check and, with some reluctance, handed over his staff and bag. Or started to.

  “Bro, I thought for sure you’d be toast,” Arlen shouted, throwing his arms wide. “Trorm Disaster Coldstorm. Fucking badass, man. Fucking badass. What’s with the sunglasses at night?”

  Erik, Wilbur, and Arlen stood next to them, big grins on their faces. SURPRISED. PLEASED. HAPPY.

  “Where’d you guys go?” Trorm asked, ignoring Arlen’s question. “I got out and you’d disappeared.”

  “Like shadows in the fucking night, man,” Arlen said. PROUD.

  “Sorry, we saw lights come on and got the fuck out,” Erik said. “Thought you’d been caught. Figured you’d turn on us, you know?”

  “I’ll try not to be offended by that,” Trorm said.

  “Don’t worry,” Winnie said, smiling up at them. “Dr. Hunt showed up at the Wild Hoop asking all these questions but Trorm swept me up and told him we’d been on a date.” She flashed a grin. “I might’ve mentioned we were hanging out with you earlier, just so we like, keep our stories straight.”

  “How the hells did you get Winnie to go out with you?” Wilbur asked. “Winnie, baby, what the hell?”

  Winnie shrugged and with a completely innocent smile said, “He’s like, got a way bigger dick than you.”

  Trorm choked. Erik and Arlen burst out laughing.

  Wilbur sputtered for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s fucking cold, girl.”

  Winnie’s grin widened. “Learn to dance and keep your mouth shut.” She looked up at Trorm. “Wilbur and most of the other players like to brag about their slut count.” She glanced over at the trio. “That’s what you call it, right?”

  Arlen nodded. “Now we check our Ho Bags, you know. See how many ho’s we bag.”

  “Right.” She gave Trorm a meaningful look.

  “I just checked the only bag I’ve got,” he said.

  She grinned.

  “That bag wouldn’t happen to have a certain something in it,” Arlen asked eagerly, almost leaning forward, as if he might be able to lean around Trorm and see whatever the paperweight through the bags. EXCITED. EAGER.

  “I did,” Trorm said, to the applause of his peers. He turned around and requested his bag back. A moment later, he drew out the paperweight. The brass horsehead gleamed in the light. It gleamed a little too brightly, it seemed.

  “And what is going on over here?” asked a familiar feminine voice.

  Lilian stood next to them, not at all dressed for a party. She wore jeans, a t-shirt, and combat boots. Her sword was collapsed at her hip.

  “Returning some property,” Trorm said, looking meaningfully at Arlen. “This is your father’s, isn’t it?”

  Lilian looked surprised. More shocking though, was that the other three did as well.

  “Dude,” Wilbur exclaimed, turning on Arlen. “You didn’t say that was your Dad’s place.”

  “That item is radiating an aura of darkness,” Lilian said. “As a paladin of Thodos I demand an explanation.

  Wilbur bolted.

  Trorm watched him go. Apparently, he was not one to be trusted. What of the other two?

  Arlen’s face had gone totally impassive. CALCULATING. A second later he looked to Trorm. “You’re living with her, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “I had hopes for you, Trorm. I really did. But I guess you can’t be trusted, Froggy.”

  He and Erik turned and walked away.

  “Stop right there,” Lilian demanded.

  “No,” Arlen said over his shoulder as he kept walking. “You might have some deal with the city cops, but not campus police. Barring divine intervention, you can fuck off.”

  Trorm sighed, then turned his attention to Lilian. She was staring after the departing duo, teeth clenched. He didn’t need his sunglasses to tell him she was angry. Trorm was pretty angry himself.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  She glanced at him. “Oh, come on, they were obviously setting you up. What did they have you do, steal that?”

  “It belongs to Arlen’s father,” Trorm said. “He was in on it. It was a test of loyalty. There was never any real danger.”

  Lilian’s expression barely changed. EMBARASSED.

  “You just told the entire football team that I’m not trustworthy,” Trorm said. “It’s already an uphill fight for me. Does my being here offend you that much?”

  Lilian visibly ground her teeth a moment. “No. No it does not. I’m sorry.” She turned and walked away.

  Winnie looked from her to Trorm. “Okay, that was weird, right?”

  He nodded. “More than a little.”

  “Okay, well it could be worse,” she said.

  “It could?”

  “Yeah.” She beamed at him. “You could be here without a smoking hot date who wants to dance and make out with you. Come on, let’s hit the dance floor.”

  Trorm grinned, stowed the bag again, and followed her out to the dance floor. They danced. He caught sight of Lilian a couple of times, leaning against a wall like she was intending to hold it up and glaring at everyone.

  Winnie was wild, dancing and moving with boundless energy. At the same time though, she followed his lead. Trorm was a reasonably good dancer. Winnie was spectacular. That she allowed him to lead and didn’t trade off for other dance partners, said a lot. She looked up at him with smoldering eyes as Tibs and Bananas Eating Monkeys started up a slow song.

  “Those sunglasses,” she said softly, only just loud enough to be heard over the music as she held his eyes and swayed with him. “They’ve got some kind of enchantment, right?”

  He nodded. “They help me understand emotions and facial expressions.”

  She went up on her toes. “What are they telling you about me right now?”

  Winnie Zamora

  Gender: Female

  Emotion: Infatuated. Hopeful. Eager.

  Interest Level: 10

  He leaned forward. Their lips touched.

  Every door and window to the warehouse exploded inward with slimy, tentacled monkey-beasts.

  Chapter Nine

  The assailants screeched, flinging slime every which direction along with broken glass and debris from the door all over the party goers. Screams erupted throughout the warehouse and pandemonium ensued. Everyone tried to make for whatever exit they could but were completely boxed in by the mucus covered assailants. Tentacles covered with barbs and fanged maws ripped and tore into flesh and screams of panic turned into cries of agony.

  Trorm grabbed Winnie and shoved his way through the churning crowd, using his considerable size and strength to push through. If he could just get to his staff, he could cast reliable evocation spells. Trying to unleash a bolt of lightning in a room this crowded without a focusing tool could kill more people than the damn monkey things.

  One of the tentacled simians flew through the air right for him and he caught it in the face with a sickening crunch that sent pain flaring through his knuckles. The monkey-thing’s head doubled over backwards as it was thrown away. It was up a second later, the blunt force trauma seeming to have only limited effect, but it chose to go after less volatile prey, throwing itself at another, closer party goer.

  Trorm pushed free of thickest middle of the crowd and found himself and Winnie facing nearly a dozen of the creatures. The nearest one hissed, baring its fangs, tentacles flailing about as
it crawled forward on its knuckles. A light shown off to the side, drawing the attention of every one of the monkey creatures in the room. Trorm squinted instinctively, shielding his eyes, only to discover that this light didn’t hurt. He soon discovered why.

  Lilian stood before a group of partiers, sword held high, divine light spilling from her over them and the attackers. Several wounded people’s injuries suddenly closed and the nearest monkey-things scurried back, their flesh smoking where the light had touched them. She really was a paladin it seemed.

  The enemy’s fallback was short lived. At some unheard signal, nearly every one of the beasts surged forward on her position, falling upon Lilian like a wave of mucus. She struck with her sword, her moves expert and precise and leaving a burning trail of white in the blade’s passing. The weapon parted the assailant’s flesh like butter. But there were too many of them and several attacks came through, scoring strikes upon her legs and arms, even as their brethren died.

  Not all of the eldritch horrors had gone after Lilian. Several pulled away, rushing at Trorm while still more hurled themselves in the same direction he fled with Winnie. Were they trying to keep him from reaching his staff? He couldn’t let that happen.

  With a grunt of effort, he wove a spell, tossing a small fireball at the monkey nearest the coat check. The spell drove back the nearest attackers only to fizzle out as it struck its intended target. He hadn’t been able to put too much power into it lest he set the building on fire and had failed to overcome the slimian’s innate resistance to magic from this dimension.

  Hurt or no, the creature he struck suddenly whirled on him.

  He released Winnie. “Run.”

  She darted away and he charged forward with a war cry. “Coldstorm!”

  Trorm was grateful for his years of football practice. He lowered his shoulder and broke through their offense. He screamed as barbs and fangs ripped through his flesh but he shook the beasts off and ran onward, actually running over one of the creatures and crushing its head underfoot with a wet crunch that splattered his lower leg with gore and slime.