Orcblood Legacy: Skirmishes: Orcs Bernard Bertram (good books to read TXT) 📖

out of reach while still firing off a few shots. But his expectations of her skill were too high. As he turned his head, the orc caught the vision of horror on the woman’s face as Gub lifted her from the ground and pulled her toward his waiting maw.

The woman struggled incessantly, but it was hopeless. She shrieked in terror until the moment her head disappeared within the giant creature’s stretched jaws. Fangdarr nearly shuddered at the crunch of bone as Gub crushed down on her skull. Even worse were the sounds as the ogre chewed nonchalantly on the woman’s lifeless corpse, blood streaming down his chest.

Torn between the triumph of victory and the thought of the innocent couple that had only sought to defend what was theirs, Fangdarr felt a wave of guilt and regret surge through him. Yet, he looked down at the newly formed scar across his side and smiled. This was it. This was what it meant to be an orc, he knew. He recalled the men that had chased down and decapitated his mother despite her innocence. These humans were no different than she and were met with the same brutality. There was no need for guilt. This was equality.

FREEDOM

Fangdarr stepped easily toward his friend, no longer bothered by the sight of the half-eaten woman in Gub’s hands—nor the gory mess the ogre was making of himself. The orc planted his bloodied greataxe into the earth next to the fire pit and took a seat. As he pulled another hunk of meat from the roasted venison, Fangdarr let out a sigh of content. The weather was pleasant, the breeze gentle, and—save for Gub’s crunching—the forest was silent.

With each passing moment, Fangdarr grew more and more accepting of his choice to leave the confines of his family’s home. He had been outside in the forest many times before, but it felt different now. Untethered and free to do as he pleased, Fangdarr enjoyed the prospect of having none to answer to but himself. His eyes glanced back to Gub, who had just finished the last of his meal and was picking shreds of cloth from his teeth. Despite the sense of liberty, the orc was glad to at least have one friend—even one so dumb.

That night, they slept by the fire, taking advantage of the preparations their human victims had made for themselves. And why should it go to waste? This was Fangdarr’s life now. To salvage, to raid, to hunt. To survive. His mother had raised him to be respectful of other’s belongings. But that was not the orcish way. And his mother was gone.

For the next moon cycle, Fangdarr and Gub strolled through the surrounding wood with no destination in mind. They stayed together and became close as they hunted, joked, and continued to raid unfortunate humans in their secluded cabins. Fangdarr loved every moment of it, relishing in the freedom and the bloodshed. Not a shred of guilt was felt for those they had murdered in their exploits. Not for humans. Never for humans.

One morning, the pair were lazing around by a stream and simply enjoying the lush beauty of the forest and all it had to offer. They splashed around joyously, scaring away the nearby birds and other critters who had resided too close. “This fun, Faydar!” Gub exclaimed with his almost child-like giggle as he dipped the tips of his fingers into the water’s surface and flicked the droplets toward the orc.

Fangdarr, barely avoiding the liquid missiles, kicked back his own series of splashes in response, dousing the sluggish ogre and drawing another laugh. For many moments they continued their light-hearted antics without any care. But it all stopped once Fangdarr heard the shuffling of brush not far off. He quickly shushed his friend and received a confused and blank stare in reply.

Slowly, Fangdarr patted the air and drew his weapon, waiting for their stalker. It was big. Enormous, even. Even the trees groaned in protest as the foreign creature came closer, threatening to rip their roots from the earth. Gub held his empty expression. It was obvious the ogre couldn’t gauge the severity of the threat that seemed to be approaching. Fangdarr, on the other hand, tensed his body in anticipation.

Finally, their intruder broke through the dense vegetation. Not just one, but many.

DERELICTION

Nearly a dozen ogres waded through the brush, their enormous forms unhindered by the screen of greenery in their path. Each stood nearly an extra half of Gub’s size. Fangdarr watched as a scowl formed on each of their faces as they all stared at the orc. Knuckles white around Driktarr’s shaft, the orc cast a sidelong glance to Gub in hopes of determining if these ogres were friend or foe, but the dumbfounded creature continued splashing in the stream in blissful ignorance.

The first of the ogres to break through eyed Fangdarr carefully, paying close attention to the axe in his hand. His eyes narrowed dangerously until he too stared upon Gub. The leader of the group stepped into the water, its engorged stomach jiggling from the motion. He watched Fangdarr take a cautionary step back in response, spurring the ogre to take another forward.

“Shoo, orcsie,” the ogre grumbled, waving Fangdarr away. The monstrous creature turned its head to the side to two of its companions. “Go git ‘im.”

For a moment, Fangdarr thought the leader meant him. He tensed his legs, ready to spring into action. He knew there was no chance of victory. Not against ten fully matured ogres. As soon as the pair of ogres walked past their commanding ally, the orc nearly leapt into the air. But—with all the luck in the world—he held his pose for just a moment longer, enough time to see that, in fact, the ogres were walking toward Gub.

An expression of concern appeared on Fangdarr’s face as he realized they were coming for his friend. Instincts kicked in and the orc found himself taking a step toward his ally