Kruzz IV

Kruzz was led into the forest. Elder Worg was guiding him. He seemed to be following a path, but to Kruzz everything looked the same.
    Worg stopped and turned to face him. "Give me your right hand."
    Kruzz obliged, taking his spear into his left hand to free his right. Worg unsheathed a knife and slid the blade across Kruzz's palm. He knew it was coming and tried not to flinch, but Worg's smooth, quick actions surprised him. He bit his lip to not utter his pain. Blood began to spill from the wound.
    "Place your hand on every fifth tree that we pass. This will be the guide for your animal. Some brood's have predators that follow them and some have easy prey for them to kill. Now is the time for you to hope and wish for one or the other." Worg chuckled. "Though it may make no difference. In the end the animal will choose you."
    He turned around again and continued leading the way. Kruzz marked every fifth tree that he passed. It stung, placing the open wound on the bark of the trees, but as his heart pounded faster and faster, pain seemed to become meaningless. His mind was more focused on what Worg had said. Did he wish for an easy Hunt like Dax's owl? Or did he want a dangerous fight against some predator like Grim's bear?
    He worried that if he had to fight a bear he would lose. Grim had been older and bigger when he had gone on the Hunt. Kruzz was the youngest brood in generations, maybe ever. Was he even capable of defeating any predator in this forest? Maybe it would be best to hope for easy prey.
    He didn't like where his thoughts were going. He wanted to be a strong grunt like Grim. To prove his strength he should have to fight something dangerous. The grip on his spear tightened. He would not be afraid to fight whatever animal chose him. No matter what it was. Dax said there was a deeper meaning to every Hunt. If it was easy prey or a dangerous predator, it did not matter. It was meant to be, either way.
    They had been traveling for some time and Kruzz was starting to get a better sense of their surroundings. It seemed to him that they were walking in circles. Sure enough, he saw one of his bloody hand prints on a tree nearby. Their circles were becoming smaller and smaller.
    Worg stopped and raised his arm, pointing to the right. "You must walk this part alone. I can go no closer."
    "What must I do?" Kruzz felt unease in his stomach. It was time. He was about to face his destiny. He hoped he was ready.
    "Walk through here. There is a clearing nearby with a rock. Make your mark on it. Then sit and wait. Your animal will find you." With that said, Worg left. Not the way they came, in circles, but straight out through the forest, away from the clearing.
    Kruzz walked past the last few trees and entered the clearing. The rock was big and covered with old bloody prints. He placed his own hand on it and then climbed on top. He sat down cross-legged and placed the spear over his knees, wincing as he squeezed the shaft with his right hand.
    Then, he waited. The forest was quiet. He had never heard nature be this quiet. He worried and waited some more. What animal would come to find him? Would he make the kill easily? Was his bleeding hand going to be a distraction?
    It seemed like he had been waiting for a long time. He still hadn't heard a single sound from an animal nearby. His mind had circled his worries as often as he had circled the clearing. This was probably the time most broods would decide to get up and go find their prey themselves. Should he do the same?
    What Dax had said about meaning was starting to sink in. What if the action of getting up and searching for your prey was what led you to a predator, because you are like a predator, going on the hunt? And what if sitting here, waiting for prey, let's the easy prey come to you, because you don't look like a threat?
    If that was the case, maybe it was up to him what kind of animal chose him. The question was, what kind of animal did he want? As his mind eased into these thoughts the decision was taken from him. A hare jumped out of the forest and rushed into a small bush.
    A hare? That was going to be the animal of his Hunt? Kruzz got up on his feet and stepped off the rock with a sigh.  He flipped the spear in his hand to be able to throw it. The wound stung with every movement.
    Kruzz neared the bush carefully. One step after the other. The hare was probably frozen in shock, trying not to move so that it wouldn't be seen, but Kruzz knew it was there. He took another step and felt the ground shake beneath him.
    Before he knew what had happened, there was a loud roar as the earth underneath the bush was torn open. A big grey beast with at least six limbs that looked like a nightmare version of a caterpillar was sticking out of a hole in the ground, where the bush had been. The hare lay twitching in its maw.
    Kruzz gulped. His hand tightened on his spear, the pain forgotten. The beast's sharp teeth crunched down on the hare. It was devoured instantly. The creature's insect eyes now focused on Kruzz and another roar escaped its throat.
    Kruzz would have stood still and become its second meal, if his instincts hadn't kicked in. He lunged to the side as the beast's head shot forward and buried itself in the ground where he had been standing.
    As the rest of its body left one hole to go through the other, Kruzz was shocked to see several more pairs of limbs. All with sharp claws that could probably cut through stone and could easily pierce through him. The thought made him falter. He should run. Get away from that beast as quickly as possible.
    He couldn't though. This was his Hunt. The beast chose him and he would have to kill it to become a grunt. To prove his strength and worth. Kruzz resisted the urge to run and tried to think instead. How could he defeat a beast that was crawling through the earth?
    The earth shook and Kruzz jumped aside as the beast burrowed through the grass where he had been just a second before. It knew where he had been standing even though it couldn't see him. The creature dove straight at him again with an earsplitting roar. This time Kruzz tried to stab it with his spear while dodging.
    The spear slid into the monster's flesh as if it were made out of jelly. Kruzz landed in the dirt with a grunt and looked at his spear. It was covered in a white goo that smelled like rotten eggs. The creature screeched in pain and instead of diving back into the ground it turned and lunged at him again.
    Kruzz was still on his back and could only try to roll aside. The beast rushed past him and sliced across his left arm with one of its claws. Kruzz cried out in pain as it disappeared down the hole it came out of.
    The wound in his arm was deep and bleeding heavily. He couldn't stay on the ground though. The beast would come back up any second. He had to think of something. He remembered Grim's Hunt and that he climbed a tree. His arm was burning but he would have to do the same.
    He quickly found a good tree to climb and threw his spear up with force so that it would bite into the wood. Then he used only his right arm to climb. So far the ground did not shake and the beast did not come out of the earth. He was up in the tree and had his spear back in hand. Now, all he had to do was wait.
    The forest was silent. No birds, no more hares. It was just him and the beast. What was it waiting for? Did it know that he was prepared? Did it feel his footsteps on the ground and know that he was in the tree?
    The pain in his arm wasn't getting any better and he could feel his body weakening. His heart was still pounding strong, but he was bleeding a lot. How long could he play this waiting game before he would lose consciousness? He had to do something.
    He pulled off one of his boots and chucked it at the ground with his good arm. He hoped that would be enough to get its attention. He waited and wished that it would come. Time seemed to drag out into an eternity. He lost all hope and didn't know what else to do. Maybe the beast had left after being wounded.
    The tree shuddered as a rumbling went through the forest ground. The monster broke through the surface and devoured his boot. Its back was turned towards Kruzz and he did not hesitate to take his chance. He jumped from the tree onto the back of its head and rammed his spear through its soft skin as deep as it would go.
    The beast shuddered and screeched. Its limbs twitched and it scrabbled towards a hole in the ground. Kruzz held on tight and pulled out his spear to ram it in once again. And again. And again. Until the creature stopped moving completely.
    His Hunt was over.

   

Kruzz III

"What was your Hunt like?" Kruzz was sharpening the tip of his spear. It was almost time.
    Grim laughed out loud and gave him a slap on the back.
    "Oh, it was glorious. I stalked the forest for my prey." He held his own spear in both hands and looked from left to right as if he was doing it all over again. "The elder told me to sit and wait. He said that the animal would chose me and that it would come. I waited for about five minutes until I could stand it no longer."
    Dax chuckled. "I'm amazed you even managed to wait that long. Many broods are impatient and go out to find their destiny." He smiled and put a hand on Kruzz's shoulder. "But those who wait are rewarded with easy success. Why go out to search for your prey when you know it will come to you?"
    "For the hunt!" Grim growled. "You make it very hard for me to like you. I was impressed like all the others to see you fight, but you speak of the Hunt as if it were nothing important. It's a great ritual that determines your worth as a warrior. The lust for blood presses you onwards to find your prey. That is the Orc way. That is how it should be." Grim crossed his arms as if that settled the matter.
    "I believe the ritual has merit. It is an important day for a brood to prove his strength to his peers and to be accepted into the ranks of warriors, but I also believe it has its flaws. For most Orcs do not understand the true meaning of the ritual and its spiritual context. You for instance might think that I was a weakling, since the prey I found - or should I say that found me - was an owl."
    "An owl?" Grim barked with laughter. He bent over and slapped his knee. "Dax, the slayer of owls!" He continued to laugh and didn't stop, even when Dax continued speaking.
    "An owl is an old sign for wisdom. The ritual pointed out a very different kind of strength within me. It did not determine that I was a weak warrior. You yourself said that you were impressed by my skill. The animal that chooses to be your prey says a lot more about your true nature than just your capabilities as a warrior."
    "Of course you say that. Your prey was an owl." Grim couldn't stop laughing.
    "What was your animal?" Kruzz looked at the strong Orc with big eyes. Dax was smart and there may be truth to what he said, but killing an owl was not what Kruzz had imagined when he thought about the Hunt.
    "It was a bear." Grim's laughter subsided and he once again played the part of the hunter, jabbing his spear into the air. "It was big and fierce. When I found it, it stepped up onto its hind legs and roared with fury."
    Kruzz could imagine what it must have been like. He wondered how he would hold his own against a bear. "And what did you do?"
    "I roared right back into its face." Grim laughed aloud. "And then I charged. It swiped me aside with a big swing of its claws, breaking my spear in half. I didn't know what to do then, but I had to react fast, because the bear was on the attack. It charged, so I jumped up to a tree branch. The bear crashed into the tree below and I dropped on its back. We wrestled until I got ahold of the tip of my spear that was lying on the ground and I jabbed it into the bear's eye."
    Grim was on the ground after having rolled around imitating the wrestling match with the bear. Now that was the kind of Hunt Kruzz had imagined. He had respected Grim for his strength and the fighting skills he had shown against the humans, but this tale made Kruzz look up to him in a new light. Grim wasn't just a grunt. He was a beast of an Orc. Stronger than a bear. And that was when he was younger, just of age for the hunt. By now, he must have grown even stronger. Especially, since he did so much hard work in the mines.
    "Quite the challenge." Dax stroked his chin with his fingers. "I think I know what your Hunt means."
    "I know exactly what it means. It means I'm stronger than a bear. That's all that matters."
    "If that's all that matters you should be a renowned warrior. Not many grunts can boast of their Hunt having involved a bear. Especially, fighting that bear bare handed, because of a broken spear. No, no, no. There is more meaning in your story. You're right of course, it shows lots of strength."
    Grim gave a satisfied grunt.
    "But the symbolism of the bear entails more than strength. It's also a sign for leadership."
    Grim guffawed. "You mean to tell me I should be a great leader. An elder of one of the war clans, like Gwarr?"
    "On the contrary." Dax's eyes widened as he understood. "The fact that you wrestled the bear and had such a strenuous fight leads me to believe that you are anti-authority. I think the bear means that you are capable of being a great leader, but something inside you is against leadership. That is why you became part of the new settlement near the mines. You have a warrior's appetite for blood and you have the skill to fight, but you still did not choose to become a warrior."
    Kruzz furrowed his brow, trying to understand. Grim was speechless. Everything Dax had said was confusing, especially the way he said it, but some of it rang true. Grim had always been a lazy worker. It had been well known in the settlement that he would always get up late and would not listen when given orders.
    Dax smiled and seemed satisfied with his explanation. He used the following silence to add some more 'wisdom', as he would call it. "Like I said, I think you have it in you to become a great leader. You just have to defeat whatever it is inside you that is stopping you. You've already defeated a bear, so why not defeat that as well?"
    Grim grabbed his spear and growled. "Stop your stupid drivel and stick your bow where the sun don't shine." Grim huffed and left their circle. Kruzz wondered what had made him so mad.
    "What did I say?" Dax shrugged. "Well, looks like it's time. Elder Worg is coming to get you."
    Kruzz stiffened. What would his future bring? He visualized Grim's fight against the bear and then Dax waiting for his owl. There was no way to know until it happened. He would have to go and figure it out.
    His Hunt was about to begin.

   

Serah II

Serah watched the Princess smile and knew it had been a good idea to have her and John spend time together. It was completely unheard of to have a young girl of her stature spend time alone with a young man, especially some boy from a small village, but they were getting along well and Serah was always there keeping an eye on them.
    They sat across from each other with a table in between them. They were near the open window and the Princess was looking outside at the setting sun.
    "So what was your village like? Were there lots of trees and animals?" The Princess turned to look at John with big eyes.
    John's eyes however darkened at the mention of his village and he didn't say anything for a moment. Serah felt for the poor boy. His was a truly tragic story. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I was thinking about something else. You were asking about trees and animals?"
    "Yes. I was asking about your village. What was it like there?" The Princess's smile widened and she lay her hand upon his.
    "I believe there's been enough excitement for today." Serah bustled toward them with a tray to collect their cups and the empty bowl of fruit she had put out for them earlier. "John, I think you'd better head back to your room and let the Princess rest for the night."
    John slid his hand out from under the Princess's and blushed. Good. At least he knew his place. "Yes, of course, Serah. I'll go to my room and practice my letters before going to bed myself." He smiled at the Princess.
    She grinned. "Oh, Serah. He has been making such wonderful progress. Soon he'll be able to read wonderful stories to me while we sit in the garden."
    John seemed to know his place, but the Princess's fancies were starting to get out of hand. This friendship was arranged to keep her company. To keep her from being lonely. Not to have some village boy become her suitor. Maybe Serah had been wrong. Maybe a girl friend would have been better.
    John stood and bowed. "Goodbye Wendy. Rest well and I shall see you tomorrow." He smiled, but Serah saw a touch of sadness in his eyes. "Goodbye Serah."
    "Goodbye!" The Princess said graciously as John turned to leave the room.
    "Now, now. Up with you my Princess and into bed." Serah closed the window and bustled over to the dresser to get a fresh nightgown. The Princess's little steps slowly brought her to her bed where Serah helped her change. She folded the covers and helped the Princess get under them.
    "Oh, Small John is such a lovely man. He may only come from a tiny village from the outskirts of the kingdom, but he is still quite handsome."
    "Oh my Princess, darling. These words you speak are so distressing. You speak of the boy as a man. While he himself insists on being called 'Small'. You are a Princess and like you said, he is just a village commoner. I must say these feelings you're displaying are quite unseemly."
    "A boy? You've seen how tall he is. And those arms. He's one of the strongest looking men I've ever seen. I dream of him sometimes. He's a soldier in the army, fighting against horrible monsters. Orcs with sharp teeth and gruesome bloodied weapons. He strikes them down like flies and wins the battle. A true hero." The Princess grasped her blanket to her chest. "Oh, how wonderful he is."
    "Those are just dreams, my Princess." Serah put a hand on hers to ease the blanket out of it. "Now calm down and think of less exciting things. You need your rest."
    The young Princess sure had an imagination. She just wished she would use it for more appropriate things. She was right of course. John was quite strong and fair, but that changed nothing about his status. It just wouldn't be right and she had to do something about it before the King heard about her silly fancies.
    "Goodnight, Serah." The Princess smiled and shut her eyes.
    She looked so very pale and frail in the flickering torchlight. Maybe the young girl wanted to be a woman before she died. Would that really be such a horrible thing, even if the man wasn't of the right class?
    Serah lit a big wax candle that served as a nightlight and removed the burning torch from its sconce. She went to the chamber door and wiped a tear from her eye.
    "Goodnight, my Princess."

   

Dax

The arena wasn't much more than a large circle marked off by rocks, but it was the place where any such battles of honor were faught. Dax stood in the center with two short swords sheathed on his back, forming a cross. They had a slight curve with only one edge sharpened, fashioned in the Elven style. His bow lay in his tent. He wouldn't need it today.
    Ragnur was not there yet. Orcs from the two clans were starting to gather around to come see the spectacle. Dax hailed those that he knew better and they wished him luck. He laughed and smiled. Luck would not decide his fate, unless Ragnur became very lucky indeed. He knew what he was getting himself into. Most would fear fighting Ragnur, but Dax had done it before and Grim's words had convinced him that Ragnur had not changed.
    Time passed and Dax waited as a large mass assembled to be entertained. Many knew Dax and they would cheer for him, but some remembered Ragnur and were his friends from before he left their clan. They still held a grudge and would be glad to see Dax fall.
    Finally, Ragnur arrived. The fight would begin any moment now. His big sword was slung over his back and he walked into the circle with confidence and ease. He smiled with his big tusks pointing up. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time. Make it worth my while and don't die too fast. I want to enjoy this."
    "You seem to be under the impression that I'm no match for you, Rag. What makes you think that you will win? Your strength or your wits?" Dax paused for effect. "Oh, I forgot. You only have one of those attributes."
    A deep rumble came from Ragnur's throat as he drew his sword, breaking the strap that held it to his back.
    "Snappy comeback." Dax heartbeat increased. That was normal, he reminded himself. His body was preparing for the fight.
    "Stop your yapping and draw your weapon. I'm going to finish you once and for all."
    "As you wish." He drew the two swords from his back and went into a defensive stance. He faced Ragnur with his right side, making himself a slim target to hit. His right sword was raised and his left lowered. His legs were apart to give him a stronger sense of balance.
    Ragnur roared in anger and charged and swung his blade. It bit into the ground at an angle. Dax had easily dodged the first blow.
    "Come on you've got to aim better than that." With a backhand swing, Ragnur ripped the blade free with all his strength and tried to hit Dax, but he dodged again.
    "Nevermind. I forgot you wanted the fight to last. Take your time."
    "Shut up, you Elf scum! Shut up!" Ragnur raised his blade and swung it left and right. He was getting faster the angrier he got. Dax ducked and jumped aside as fast as he could, but Ragnur's rage was burning hot. Finally, a swing of his large sword came too close and Dax had to block it with one of his swords. The attack had such force in it that it knocked Dax's blade aside and he stumbled.
    His arm ached from blocking. He took a few steps back as Ragnur paused to get a breath of air.  They were both beginning to sweat. It cost a lot of energy to move around so much, especially for Ragnur, swinging that huge blade. It seemed though that he had energy to spare, before Dax could come up with something witty to say, he renewed his assault.
    The Orcs watching cheered with every swing and hissed with every successful dodge. They stamped their feet and banged their fists together. They wanted to see the clash of steel and smell blood in the air. These fights weren't uncommon, but they were always entertaining to the masses.
    Dax had to block another attack, almost losing the grip on his sword. He was starting to think that maybe he had underestimated Ragnur's stamina. He thought he would be slowing down by now, but the big Orc was beginning to look like an unstoppable force of nature. Maybe it was time to switch to the offensive.
    He dodged another strike and felt gust of wind race over his head. That had been a close one, but he used Ragnur's missed swing to get close and swipe his blade across Ragnur's thigh. The huge Orc howled in pain and instead of attacking with his sword, what Dax had been expecting, he swung only his fist in a backhand blow, knocking Dax against the side of his head.
    Dax stumbled as the Orcs began to chant at the first sight of blood. He tried to recover, before Ragnur could swing his sword, but he was surprised again when it wasn't Ragnur's blade that came at him, it was his foot that slammed into his gut. Dax was knocked to the ground.
    "In the dirt, where you should be." Ragnur walked up to where he was lying chuckling all the while. He slowly raised his sword above his head. "Any last words?"
    Dax looked up at his foe and realized that this was quite a predicament. He hadn't planned for this, but he already had an idea. "From this vantage point I can see that you have a bugger in your nose."
    Ragnur yelled out in fury as the gathered Orcs laughed. He used as much force as he could muster and brought his mighty sword crashing down. Dax was quick though and rammed both his swords in the ground next to his head, crossing each other. The handles locked in the middle and when Ragnur's blade went for Dax's head it crashed into the crossed swords and was blocked.
    The attack had come with such force that the short swords had actually sunk further into the ground, but their dull edges hadn't been rammed into Dax's skull. Maybe he had been in need of some luck. Ragnur looked down at him, wrinkling his brow. Before he could gather the few thoughts that he had, Dax sprang into action. He slid out from under his swords, propped his hands next to his head and pushed himself upward to deliver a kick to Ragnur's face with both feet.
    Ragnur dropped his sword and stumbled backwards. Dax caught himself from crashing to the ground and got to his feet. He ran towards Ragnur with speed, jumped up and gave him a forceful headbutt.
    A cheer went up from the spectators. Dax was sure that Grim enjoyed the sight of that. Though it had hurt like hell. At least it seemed to have hurt Ragnur even more. His nose was broken, blood dripping down his tusks and chin. He looked around wildly. Fire burned in his eyes.
    "My sword? I made it to hack you to pieces with." His words came out gurgly from the blood in his throat. He hacked it up and spat it out. He looked Dax up and down. "You don't have your weapons anymore either. Now we can fight like real grunts! I'll crush you with my fists."
    "I'd like to see you try." This is what he had been preparing for. Dax would prove once and for all that even though he wasn't the strongest, he knew what he was doing in a fight. He straightened his back and looked Ragnur in the eye. He relaxed his body and mind, just like the Elves had taught him.
    Orcs all around them chanted as Ragnur once again came running at him with rage. As his fist swung, Dax dodged and grabbed hold of it. He twisted his body and used Ragnur's own momentum to throw him over his shoulder. Ragnur's arm was wrenched out of its socket as he crashed to the ground. He howled in pain.
    There was a shocked silence from the gathered crowd. None of them had seen such a display of fighting before. The war with the Elves was a long time ago and nobody had fought one since. Dax was the only Orc for miles who had had any real contact with the Elves.
    Dax slowly walked over to Ragnur's sword and lifted the heavy thing from the ground with both hands. He crossed the arena to stand before his foe. Ragnur was kneeling and still holding his arm. Rage and pain formed a gruesome snarl of his lips. His breathing was heavy. Dax almost thought there was no more fight left in him, but then he got back onto his feet.
    "Don't do it, Rag. This fight is over if you want it to be or not. Give up and we'll both go on to live another day."
    Ragnur only screamed and charged with the strength he had left. Dax heaved the heavy sword through the air as he approached and sliced his head clear off. The large body crashed to the ground. The fight was over.
    Dax sighed with a heavy heart as the Orcs all around him cheered his name.

   

Damien II

    Damien sat at his desk, scribbling ideas on a piece of paper. There had to be more that he could do on his own to secure his success. He couldn't just rely on secret deals and promises. He had to take things into his own hands to be sure.
    Speaking of the devil, a shrouded figure stepped out of a dark corner of his office. Damien wondered how it was possible for the man to come out of shadows like that. It was a neat trick.
    "What do you want?" Damien demanded. He was busy and wanted the man to know who was in charge.
    "I came to congratulate you." The man's voice was smooth like a knife being pulled out of a velvet lined scabbard. "You have accomplished everything we asked so far."
    "I know that." The man's bearing and dark clothing was sure to intimidate some, but Damien was not impressed. "Now, isn't it about time that I get what I was promised?"
    The man uttered a deep chuckle. Though his mouth was covered by the cloth wrapped around his head, the man's eyes twinkled as he smiled. "You are an impatient man Chancellor Damien. You do not like to be idle. That is good." The man's gloved hand wandered over the edge of Damien's desk. "But if your actions are too rash, then you may end up with nothing."
    Damien tapped the piece of paper with his quill. "So I must wait. Be patient. That's what your telling me? Otherwise you won't..."
    "Otherwise you will ruin everything." The man interrupted. "We have no qualms with your ambitions and have no need to threaten to hinder you. We just want you to uphold your part of the bargain." The man's head turned slightly and he started moving back towards the corner he came from. "I came to inform you that we were satisfied so far, but there is still more that you must do."
    There was a knock at the door. Damien looked away for one second and when he returned his gaze, the man had disappeared into thin air. "Come in!"
    A servant entered.
    "My lord, Commander Arenson has requested your presence." The young man stepped forward and placed a scroll on his desk.
    Damien leaned forward to pick it up and broke the seal. It was a simple summons, lacking any information of what the meeting would be about. Typical Arenson. That man didn't know what his brain was for. If it weren't for his prowess in battle he wouldn't be in such a high position.
    The young servant looked at him timidly. "What is it, lad?"
    "The Commander asked for you to come immediately."
    "Well, why didn't you say so? And this piece of paper said nothing about immediacy either." Damien shoved his chair back and rose to his feet. "Fine! Go on ahead. Tell him that I'm on my way."
    The servant scurried off and left him to pack up his notes and scrolls. Arenson hadn't mentioned what the meeting was about, but it wasn't necessary. Damien knew what he wanted to discuss. He always knew what that fool wanted his help for.
    He had gathered his things and made his way through the castle. When he reached Arenson's door, he paused. Drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. It would be no good to show his true feelings in front of his superiors.
    Damien knocked and was let inside by the same servant that had called for him moments earlier.
    "Chancellor Damien! I'm glad you could come. I wanted to discuss the preparations for the new battalion with you." Arenson stood by his desk, arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture, with a big smile on his face.
    "Ah, yes. That is a good idea Commander. As it happens, I have a few documents here with lists of men stationed in other battalions and men who have recently enlisted into the King's army. There are plenty of prime candidates for this special battalion."
    "Wonderful, Chancellor. Well done." Arenson gestured for Damien to take a seat while he sat down himself. "We will need experienced fighters. Strong and tall. The best of the best."
    "I was thinking the same." Damien sat down and chose a few scrolls that he rolled out on the commander's desk. "Here are some experienced men who have proven themselves in battle. I also suggest these new recruits for the battalion. They are strong and tall as you said."
    "Excellent! They will need some training, but that's what the experienced men will be there for." Arenson smiled, picking up one of the scrolls and going over the names Damien had marked as candidates. "It seems a large chunk of the battalion is still missing though." He was bound to notice sooner or later.
    Damien fiddled with the rest of his scrolls. "Well, Commander, Sir. I wasn't sure about it at first, but your words have discarded my doubts. You said you wanted the best of the best. Of course, that would mean the royal guard. I wouldn't..."
    "What?" Arenson looked worried. "That can't be done. The King needs to be protected. What would he say..."
    "What would the King say if the new battalion wasn't the strongest it could be?" Damien raised his eybrows. "You wanted the best. The most experienced. That's the royal guard." Arenson was about to interrupt him, but Damien continued on heedlessly. "Of course, we can't take every soldier. Some experienced and smart men need to stay at their posts to train the new recruits for the guard. But I really believe these men are needed to make this new battalion what it needs to be to defeat the Orcs."
    Arenson's brow began to unfurrow. A hint of a smile came to his lips. "You think that will really make the difference?"
    "The Orcs are strong, but those gruesome monsters can be defeated. This new battalion will make sure of it." Damien raised his fist for show. Arenson had been worried that not even this battalion would be able to face the Orcs. His words were convincing the commander, making him eat out of Damien's hand.
    "If some of the old royal guards train the new recruits and the rest join the battalion. I guess that will be alright."Arenson looked at the lists one last time and rolled them back up. "Take this with you again and prepare all the orders. This battalion will tear the Orcs apart. It will overcome any obstacle and will be triumphant."
    Damien grabbed his things and bid Arenson farewell. Yes, the battalion would do great things, he was sure of it. But even greater things would be happening in the palace once the new recruits for the royal guard were in place.

   

Mexta II

The battle had been short, if one could even call it a battle. It was closer to a massacre than anything else. Mexta had been the leader of the assault. The day before she had ridden up and shot an arrow at one of the farmers. Today they had killed any who didn't flee.
     When would they have a real fight? Why did the king not send his armies to stop them? It had started as simple revenge, but their elder had ordered them to continue their raids. The humans had attacked a fellow clan without provocation and the Orcs would not let that stand. Let the humans feel their wrath and face what they have brought on themselves. If they wanted to fight the Orcs, then they would get a fight they would never forget.
     But so far none of their raids had been worth remembering. Mexta enjoyed the slaughter, she reveled in it. However, if there was no fear of death, no challenge in defeating the enemy, then what was the point?
     Her thoughts turned back to the giant. Now he would have been a challenge, until the rage faded from his eyes. His lust for vengeance had been satisfied by killing Grodun. After that he would not fight anymore. He had become content.
     "Mexta! Don't clean your axe yet. A rider is approaching." Draykon, one of the younger grunts, shouted to her.
     She wasn't going to clean it yet anyway. As leader of the assault it would be her duty to treat with the enemy. Whoever it may be. "Watch my back!" Mexta strode towards the oncoming rider, great axe in hand. Blood dripped off its edges, sure to intimidate the rider.
     To her surprise it wasn't a human. It was an Elf. He brought his horse to a halt and looked at Mexta, eyebrows raised. He saw her axe and the blood, then his eyes widened as he looked behind her, where smoke was rising form the burning buildings. He looked back at her with cold disdain in his gaze.
     "What have you done? Speak, Orc!" He raised his chin and looked down upon Mexta from atop his horse. His sharp nose and the tips of his ears were clearly defined against the setting sun.
     "Leave off, Elf! The humans attacked one of our settlements. They asked for this. We are only giving them back in turn what they gave us." Mexta would have loved nothing more than to yank the creature off his horse by his long silvery hair, but her elder would probably frown upon that.
     "These humans have surely done no such things. They were peaceful men and women. We treated with them regularly. They weren't like others that have settled here. They were good." His words were harsh in the Orc tongue, though his facial expression was one of sorrow, not anger.
     "Hah!" Mexta snorted with derision. "These were different you say! Hah! All humans are the same. Their king ordered to attack a clan. If you attack one clan, then you attack all the clans. So instead of attacking one village, we are attacking all the villages. That's what they asked for."
     "You speak of a full out war. War effects us all. The Elves won't just idly stand by. We will have to interfere."
     "Oh, you want to interfere, do you?" Mexta hefted her axe. It was a large weapon, double bladed. With enough force she could cut rider and horse in half with one swing.
     "I will have to inform the Druids." He eyed her axe. His hand twitched for only a moment, but he did not grab his sword. Instead he turned his horse to ride away.
     "You do that. But remember who started this. We were attacked unprovoked." She shouted after him as he rode off.
     This was an interesting turn of events. She wondered what Gwarr, their elder, would say to this. The Elves and Orcs hadn't fought each other in decades. The Great War was over a century ago. Was this the beginning of another? And who would come out on top?
     "He's awake and shouting again." Draykon came up to her, stopping her mind from wandering.
"Then I better give him a visit." Mexta smiled, lifting her axe onto her shoulder. The Elf was gone and Gwarr would have to wait until they returned to their settlement anyway.
     She took her time walking back to the camp. She could hear him yelling more than fifty feet away from her tent. She sat down by a fire and took some meat off the spit. She ate her share peacefully, ignoring his shouting. When she was done she got up and cut some meat off the spit for him.
     When she finally entered her tent he stopped yelling. She leaned her bloody great axe against a box with her belongings. The giant was tied up to the pole holding up the tent. "I brought you some food. Is that what you were shouting for?" Speaking in the human's tongue still bothered her, but she was getting used to it.
     "I'm thirsty, too." The giant growled.
     Mexta threw the meat on his lap and untied his hands. She wasn't worried about him trying to attack her, that was the whole problem. She knew he was a fighter at heart, but the fight had left him ever since he avenged his wife's death. He rubbed his wrists and started eating the meat.
     She sat down on her box and lifted her axe. Now the time had come to clean it. "This is human blood. I killed many today. Don't you want to avenge their deaths as well?" When the raid had ended, the giant had dropped his weapon and asked them to kill him. But Orcs honored those that fought bravely and had proven strength. Killing him without a weapon in hand would have been honorless. For him and the Orc who killed him.
     Ever since that first raid, Mexta had pulled him after her. Going from one village to the next. Every day she tried to provoke him to fight, but he would not listen. All he did was eat, drink, walk and sleep. She was starting to lose her respect for him, but she still knew that deep within him there was a fighter.
     The giant did not rise to the bait. He just kept on eating while she cleaned the blood of his fellow humans off her weapon. When he asked for water again, she gave it to him. One of these days he would have to stand up and fight. And when that happened she wanted to be the one to slay him. One of these days.

   

Bron II

Bron and his men had received new orders from the commander. The Orc's had abandoned the mines and with some scouting done Bron was sure that they had left no traps or any other kind of dangers. The camp was moving in and started building some houses for miners to settle in. The only problem was fresh water. The closest source for that was the former Orc settlement.
     There was however a note in the commander's orders that spoke of some kind of spring in the mountains. Bron was supposed to make up a scouting party whose sole purpose it was to find the spring. If they found that, then their water troubles would be over. He decided to make up three scouting parties instead. That way they could cover more ground.
     "Captain Bron! The scouting parties have been assembled and are in search of the spring." A soldier came to stand next to him.
     "Alright. Back to your post!"
     Bron began his tour of the camp, checking if everything was in order. His arm was still in a sling, ribs and head still bandaged. He must look pretty fatigued, but he kept his back straight and his men greeted him with respect as he passed.
     He thought back to the fight and to how fortunate he had been. The Orc had been on top of him and could have killed him easily, but he was still alive. He got lucky. That was all. It could have been over just as easily.
     Bron wasn't so much worried about his own life. It was the things he would miss. The people who he would never see again. Who would never see him. Mary, Alexander and Gregory. Alexander was almost a grown man now. He would probably join the military soon, like his father. He would be able to watch out over his mother and little brother, if anything were to happen to Bron. He was was sure of it.
     However, he wouldn't want the boy to step in his shoes too soon. He was alive. That's all that mattered. He just hoped he could get some time on leave soon to see his family. Just in case. It had been a close call. He would really like to see them all again.
     A rider came galloping up the road. One of his scouts from the camp's perimeter. He was in a hurry. Bron tensed. Were the Orcs coming back to take what was theirs? Was it too late for him to see his family again?
     "Captain Bron! There's news from the capital."
     "Let's hear it!" The tension left his body. They weren't under attack. He'd prepared his men for the possibility of an assault, but if the Orcs came in force, he didn't know if they could put up much of a fight. Many of his men were still wounded like himself.
     The scout unrolled a piece of parchment. "Dire news has reached the capital from several villages on the northern borders of the kingdom. They have been raided by Orcs. Most inhabitants have been killed. Men, women and children"
     Bron had been expecting this news, just not so soon. The Orcs were out for retribution. Doing to them what they had done to the Orcs. They were just doing more of it. His actions had truly just been the beginning.
     "What are the King's orders? Have you word from the commander? Something must be done to protect the other villages." His family lived in Freshire, a village in the east. They were safe for now, but who knew for how much longer?
     "It doesn't say, but I've heard rumors of a special battalion being trained to fight these beasts."
     Good! It seemed the chancellor had listened. Bron wondered how the new trainees would fair. They better do well, because war was coming.