Orc's Destiny

Chapter 1

Savannah

One year earlier. 

The moon is full and the night is bright, making it more difficult to slip through the settlement unnoticed. I must be extra careful and use what shadow I can as I move through the back alleys, searching for any surviving humans.

Those are hard enough to find when things are going well here, and things are definitely not going well. 

An orc’s gruff voice pierces the quiet. “Anything?” 

“No!” Another shouts back. 

Someone else calls from farther away, and I can’t quite make out what he says. 

The Steel Tribe orcs have come. Orcs who have abandoned their own kind, who have teamed up with the dark elves in order to rule over everyone else. 

They’ve come for blood. 

Patrolling orcs don’t spare me a second glance. After years of working undercover for Old Malik, I’m good at this. Disguised as a local, I count them as they pass. Tension radiates throughout the camp as the dark elves draw closer. 

Screams echo around the camp as they begin to bypass the orcs’ defenses. A shrill, terrified gasp, followed by an ominous gurgle erupts in the alley behind me. The sound seeps in my heart and slithers down my spine. I try to suppress the fear it brings.  

You can do this. You have to do this. 

I pull a blood stained cloak from some poor dead soul and wrap it around myself to deepen my disguise, trying to avoid notice. I can see them now, shuffling around, poking at bodies and searching them in hopes of finding something of value. I almost laugh. The people here are poor and war torn. Their demise is not worth the price of what they have left behind. 

I slip around the corner, but turn back to watch the orcs. They grow increasingly agitated as their search brings them nothing but broken cups and the bits and bobbles of daily life that no longer matter in death.

I study their faces and mannerisms and commit them to memory. Uncovering these details is my speciality.

I peek once more around the corner. The orcs are scowling and one spits on the body of a human at his feet.

They don’t look thrilled.

“Nothing!” one of the orcs sneers, pulling his sword from its sheath and running it through the body of the already deceased human in anger. Blood flies through the air, splattering heavy on the ground.

Another orc approaches him. “Patience, we shall have our hunger fed.”

The first orc bares his teeth and kicks the body at his feet, sending it into the air. The elves that surround him pause and watch as it falls onto the spikes of the fence that surrounds the settlement. A cheer rouses from the elves. 

“Good shot!” one of the elves shouts as the others burst into laughter. The orc roars and storms off, heading toward one of the huts, violence oozing from his frame. Their bloodlust and greed have not been satisfied, which means their judgment is clouded. It gives us a small advantage.

A horrid scream cuts through the attack as the elf pulls an old woman out into the open. I know these are her final moments, and I try not to look as he snaps her fragile body in two as if she were nothing more than a crust of bread to eat with his meal. The surrounding elves descend upon the hut, their swords drawn with the excitement of fresh blood. 

More screams, more sport for the bastard elves. 

I turn and slip down the alleyway. I move, ghostlike, sliding from one shadow to another through the camp, keeping my senses open for any signs of survivors. All I find are bodies, the horror of the moments before their deaths still written on their faces. 

The threats and violence of the elves grow thin as I approach the far edge of the camp. I have almost passed it when I notice a movement to my right, too slight to be that of an elf. I still and use all my senses to observe the area. Best to be careful.

I watch the form scurry around a tent and follow, ducking under the guide ropes holding the tent in place. I kneel near the back corner of the tent and take a moment to observe again, searching for any danger or treachery. Sure enough, I hear the hushed voices of several humans talking. 

I slide around the side of the hut, close enough to hear their voices clearly.

“Only you? What of Aiden?”

“I’m sorry, he didn’t make it,” a human voice reveals. 

“Stop crying so loud, he was lucky. We’re going to be slaughtered,” another one, his voice broken by terror. 

“They’ll find us, there’s no way out of here, the bastards have the whole camp covered,” another adds. 

I step out of the shadows. The humans notice and jerk back, some falling to their knees.

“I’m here to help,” I whisper quickly, holding my hands up so they can see I mean them no harm.

They look me up and down. I know they are wondering how I could possibly be of help, a small woman in a bloody cloak. I am routinely underestimated. It is one of the circumstances that makes me a good spy. Most think my usefulness is in proportion to my size, and dismiss me as useless.

“Do we know of you?” one of the women whispers cautiously.

“Probably not, but I know a way out of here. I can lead you out,” I tell them, an air of friendly authority in the tone of my voice. 

The humans look at each other, their faces etched with fear and indecision. If they don’t take my offer they are as good as dead. They have no hope otherwise. 

“If you want to have half a chance at surviving this nightmare, you’ll come with me,” I state to them matter-of-factly and turn and make my way around the side of the tent. 

I pause and ensure they have followed and am almost relieved to find they have. The responsibility now begins to take hold of me. I hope the route I have in mind is Steel Tribe and dark elf free. This bunch is too traumatized to fight a fly, let alone help me battle dark elves.

I lead them around the edges of the besieged camp through a series of secret pathways that avoid the gaze of unwanted eyes. I have traveled these passages many times to practice for this moment, but never with a group of terrified people behind me. My senses are on high alert.

The shouts of the elves and orcs are only matched by the sound of human screams of pain and mercy, though it is clear there will be no mercy here tonight. The only chance for these humans lies in escaping to the forest.

I follow the landmarks I observed when I first devised this escape route and I lead the group successfully to the western edge. There is a copse of brush leading from the edge of camp to the forest here. I have used it many times to spirit, undetected into the woods and it is how I plan to get them out.

I point at the small path in the brush. 

“It is low, you’ll have to crawl. Once you make it into the forest, stand and run,” I instruct. 

Then I catch that scent in the air, the hairs on my arms stand straight, and my hand guides itself to my knife. They are coming. 

“Quick!” I give a whispered shout.

The only way to save them is to use every skill I possess to force the elves to divert. The humans do as they are told.

“Once the area here is clear of elves, make your way to the forest!” I command.

“Thank you,” I hear the voice of one of them from the undergrowth. 

I wait as the sound of approaching elves and orcs grows louder, and my heart beats faster. 

I know the shape of him, the one that kicked the body as he lumbers into view. I can see the frenzy and violence in his smile as he nears me. I wonder if he can see me through the haze of his bloodlust.

“I found a bitch!” one of the orcs calls out as he points his sword toward me. I give them a second or two more to believe I’m an easy catch. They do.

They slither closer, and I cower, baiting them in. It’s clear from the way they are looking more over they are each hoping that it will be their cock to be the first to enter. 

Not today, bastards. 

I look an orc dead in the eye as he draws ever closer, and give him a small smile.

I bow my head meekly, then lift it to greet him. “Limp dick.”

I take off.

He roars in frustration. “Seize her!”

I let them see me run into the forest. I twist and turn, weaving around the trees. I need to draw them away from the other humans without being captured. 

They are closer than I anticipated. It’s worrying. These sacks of shit can really move. 

“Now!” the orc’s voice booms. 

I stop dead as two elves appear ahead of me from the undergrowth. Two more orcs advance from behind.

It’s then I know I’m pretty well fucked. By the smirks of the elves and orcs alike, they seem to have the same opinion.

I reach for my knife. It has served me well over the years. 

I evaluate my options. It is best if I take the two in front of me first, so I swing myself into the air to confuse them and land in between, quickly stabbing the throat of one, then straight into the stomach of the other. Both fall to the ground, clutching at their wounds.

I try to catch my breath, knowing this will not be a fair fight. I’ll need to conserve my energy. Limp Dick slows to a stop, and he grips his sword with glee.

Then, the swoosh of an axe cuts through the air, and I watch it land on the side of the elf’s head. His eyes roll in confusion, and I hope the last thing he sees is the smirk on my face. 

I quickly look around to see the brooding figure of an orc stepping out of the trees. He’s tall and lanky, covered in ritualistic tattoos that bear no resemblance to the markings of the Steel Clan. 

One of the orcs advances, and he runs his sword through his stomach as easily as slicing bread. Blood sprays, covering his face, and he lets it drip to the ground as the other orc falls. 

“I’m Daritus,” he says, nodding towards me. “And I don’t much care for orcs who associate with elves.”

I stare in awe at him as he nods to the startled band of elves before us. 

Now, it’s a fair fight. 

An orc seizes me, underestimating my size. I let him grab me, but my hand is still wrapped around my blade. As he pulls me close to his chest, it only takes a twist of my arm to sever his throat. 

He gurgles, tumbling down, and my breath rushes out of my lungs as he collapses on top of me. Daritus kicks him off of me, and I see that he’s slaughtered the remaining elves. 

“The humans–”

“My clan is protecting them,” he says. He presses his sleeve to a cut I hadn’t noticed on my upper lip. “We could protect you too, if you’d like.” The smile that twists his face isn’t one I’ve ever seen on an orc before. “Or you could protect us, more likely.”