Orcblood Legacy: Skirmishes: Orcs Bernard Bertram (good books to read TXT) đ
- Author: Bernard Bertram
Book online «Orcblood Legacy: Skirmishes: Orcs Bernard Bertram (good books to read TXT) đ». Author Bernard Bertram
And yet, despite knowing the horror he had wrought, Fangdarr, too, couldnât help but return Razâjaâs smile.
Bending low, the orc gripped the manâs ears tightly and placed a heavy foot on the back of his punctured skull. With one quick tug, they came free in his hands. He raised the bloody ears toward his pouch slowly but paused. Without a word, Fangdarr turned and strode back into the other room. Razâja tilted his head curiously as the sound of a womanâs whimpers and sobs passed through the house. The troll chieftain grew even more curious as Fangdarr returned to the main room, no longer holding the manâs ears.
Seeing his allyâs puzzled expression, the orc simply stated, âHer kill. Her ears.â
Razâjaâs brow furrowed in disappointment and for a moment Fangdarr thought they would engage in a conflict then and there. But as quick as it had come, the trollâs scowl turned to humor and he burst into hysterical laughter. Finally catching his breath, Razâja patted his own overflowing sack of ears on his belt. âLetâs just hope ya have enough.â
Fangdarr looked down to his own pouch, blood dripping from the soaked leather as it bulged with the ears of those he had killed. âIt is enough.â
HIVE
Fangdarr followed Razâja back to the mountain pass, each carrying their bloodied sack. The orc was met with a thousand gleaming eyes as he entered the narrow path. The trollsâ wicked grins nodded with approval from all around. They clung to the rocky walls, eagerly awaiting news from their chieftain.
Razâja walked through the jagged passage with supreme confidence. The orc watched as any troll who made eye contact with their leader shied away in fear. Fangdarrâs respect and admiration for the cunning troll rose with each step he took. At any time, Razâja could easily be overpowered by sheer numbers, yet none dared move against him.
As the pair entered a dark tunnel, their eyes shifted to see better. Fangdarr was forced to bend low within the tight corridor but continued silently. He could feel the anxious presence of trolls close on his heels, too curious to hold back. The thought made his skin crawl, but he trusted Razâja. After all, why would the troll chieftain go through all the trouble for a sack of ears?
The passage seemed to go on foreverâand got smaller the deeper they went. At first, Fangdarr had wondered why they would choose to dig into the mountain. But all became clear as soon as they had reached the end of the tunnel. Razâja waited for him at the opening with a wide smile on his face. The troll extended his arm in a wide sweeping motion. âWelcome, brutha, to my kingdom!â
Fangdarrâs jaw fell slack in awe. The cavern was so vast! It extended farther than his eyes could see and with trolls scurrying over nearly every surface. It all seemed so barren, lacking buildings or even plants. It was as if the sanctuary was some sort of enormous hive, crawling with the wretched creatures.
Taking joy in the orcâs wordlessness, Razâja stepped forward to a crudely carved stone slab. He pulled the sack from his belt and dropped it atop, drawing Fangdarrâs attention. Without prompt, the astonished orc, too, set his ears on the stone.
âAâright,â Razâja started as he dumped both bags of ears. His eyes lit up upon seeing the torn pieces of flesh in all different sizes. Cackling loudly, the troll turned to Fangdarr. âDa agreement is met.â
âWhat this mean?â Fangdarr tilted his head curiously.
âEars asked, ears received. Da alliance is fulfilled. Now, we make ya chieftain.â
HOME
Fangdarr stood in the forest, eyeing the crude walls of the orc village. His village, he realized, had his mother never fled. That was where he belonged, as his father had. Taking in the sight for the first time, Fangdarr couldnât help but feel an inviting sense of longing. Truth be told, there was nothing special about itâthe walls consisted of thick logs, impaled into the earth as if by no design. But it screamed âOrcâ, raw and chaotic.
Taking another step forward, Fangdarr found a smile on his face. This was what he had been searching for, he believed. A home to call his own, others like him, and his fatherâs legacy. He could hardly believe how it all had turned out. Meeting Razâja and building the alliance had proven hugely beneficial for the lone orc. The troll chieftain had taught him all he knew of orcs and their customsâdetails even his mother or Tormag refused to provide.
Namely, the Ortuk Malid. Fangdarrâs path required he become chieftain of the vicious beasts of the Zharnik clan, as his father, Brutigarr, had been. And the Ortuk Malid, a challenge for the right to lead, was the way in.
At first, he had been surprised that Razâja didnât accompany him, to show Fangdarrâs strength with thousands of trolls standing behind him. But he knew this was a task he needed to accomplish alone. âYa must prove dis to yaself, Fangdarr,â the troll had said to him. âBut donâtcha worry, friend. Once ya are chieftain, the work begins.â
Fangdarr didnât know exactly what Razâja had meant, but, if one thing was certain, it was that the trolls wouldnât miss any opportunity to weaken the goodly races of Crein. All that remained was to become chieftain of the Zharnik clan.
Looking up, Fangdarr saw the gatesâif they could even be called suchâof the village and a pair of orcs leaning lazily against the wall, spears in each hand. He felt trepidation sink in as he approached, expecting them to charge him with reckless abandon. Yet, they each offered naught but a glance and a lackluster grunt of acknowledgement as he passed through.
Elated, his face twisted to a smile. Father, Iâm home.
INJUSTICE
Home, Fangdarr thought again, padding through the gate with a grin on his face. His gaze flicked hungrily across the landscape, taking in the sight of
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