Orc's Vow

Chapter 1

Goruk

“Horthik!” I yell across the camp. Horthik is half asleep beside the fire in the early morning, cuddled up like some suckling baby. 

I shut the flaps of Turuic’s empty tent. We were supposed to be going out training, but of course Turuic isn’t here. He was probably out all damned night. 

“What ya want?” Horthik yells back at me.

“Where’s that bastard Turuic?” 

“How the hell should I know? Now fuck off, I’m trying to sleep,” he pleads, laying his big stupid head back on the ground.

“Useless fuck.” I laugh as I step over him. “Hungover as usual, no doubt! Turuic, where are you, you bastard!”

I stop, only to be greeted by the sound of snoring orcs. Looks like I’ll be training alone today. 

I head out of the camp. I like it here, even if my fellow orcs are a bunch of drunken whoring cock-ups. It's good to have such a large force gathered against the elves, and it’s a pleasure to be on the front-lines of the war. 

I take a deep breath and bound out of the camp towards the woods. I’m halfway to my training ground when I hear the sound of something approaching.

Something on the main road. 

The rattle of their wagon is carried to me on the breeze. I know it isn’t one of ours. I pull myself onto the ridge to be greeted by the sight of the elf caravan below me.

I can’t believe my luck. I have no idea what the dark elves are doing so close to us, but their foolishness is my gain. There are only about a dozen or some of the slimy bastards. 

I need to think fast and seize this opportunity. I quickly calculate their speed. This road runs at least another five miles before it reaches the open road. I calculate that if I move at twice their speed, I would have an hour advantage over them three miles ahead. 

I take off. My powerful body pushes me through the forest. I keep the road to my left and let the wind cool my body. I count and keep track as the first mile passes, the second, and the third.

I stop and look around and notice the large pine trees. The plan in my head completes itself. 

I quickly catch my breath. I let the oxygen flow through my veins and summon the strength to pull down the tree with both hands. It falls to the forest floor, cushioned by the soft blanket of fallen leaves. 

I pull it across the short distance to the road, its colossal bulk blocking it completely; bar using magic, there is no way those weak little bastards can shift it. 

I find a spot close to the road, melt into my surroundings, and wait. 

I think about how when I slit the throat of each elf. When I have broken each bone in their skinny-assed bodies, I will have revenged my fellow orcs, and I can not wait.

And slowly, they approach, right on time. I watch the bastards as their point man spots the tree across the road and signals back to the main group. They halt, and I ready myself to pounce. 

The clock ticks as I watch one of the elves exit the wagon. How many are in the wagon? Should I wait or attack? I calculate my options in my head.

The odds are in my favor. I rise from cover and stalk down the ridge. Ha! They are too busy talking to notice my coming. 

Before the two elves can react, I take them both down with one blow, through one and then the other. Their heads bounce onto the ground and roll under the wagon.

I smirk and turn, watching as the elf from the wagon draws back. Magic, he’s getting ready to use magic. I must take as many down as possible before the others join him. 

I leap on the body of one of the headless elves and push myself through the air.

“Bastards!” I yell, my voice like a shockwave through the air. 

I swing my axe as I aim at one of the elves on horseback, leaping to bring it down on the top of his skull. It travels through his body, slicing him in two. Each side of his body flops away from the other to the ground. 

Then I feel a sting in the back of my neck and know I’ve been hit by magic. Expecting to fall with the force, I find that it is weak. 

I need to act fast as one dark elf rushes toward me. I clock another one, stepping backward, more magic on the way. I pray to the War God it’s as weak as the last shot. 

The dark elf charges at me, his face filled with rage as he draws his sword. 

“Death to the beast!” he cries as I raise the blunt staff of my axe before me. His eyes are red; he has let himself get too angry. Anger on a battlefield always causes mistakes.

He is so fixed on my face that the stupid fuck doesn’t see me as I drive the staff of my axe right into his skinny ball sack. 

“AAARRRGGGHHHH!” he yells, and he can’t help himself double over.

“Another fuckin’ elf head for me!” I cry, swinging my axe across his neck. I stop short of a clean cut as his head drops and bounces around his chest. 

It has the desired effect on the other elf, who looks on in horror.

As I charge him, I feel another bolt strike my back, but this one is stronger and knocks me forward. I see the elf in front of me take advantage of this, and his magic strikes me in the stomach, winding me badly. 

I feel the urge to fall to my knees, my whole body screaming for the ground below me, but I take no heed. I headbutt the dark elf in the face. 

His nose explodes, shooting blood into the air and onto my face. 

“Time to get the fuck off this earth,” I hiss as I slice my axe across his stomach and watch as his guts drop out. 

Two more rush me. I take them down, but where is that fucker and his magic? I need to take him down fast. 

I look around and see one slipping under the wagon. I run over and grab his ankle, and I swing him around. After one full swing, I let him go, and he shoots through the air straight into the face of another elf. 

They fall. I plunge my axe into the back of one until it finds the stomach of the other beneath. 

I turn, it’s quiet, but I know that fucker is about, and whoever is in the wagon still hasn’t come out. I need to play this cool, and I need to lure them out. 

“Argh!” I yell out and drop to my knees, making sure the thud of my fall is loud enough to hear. 

I watch the bottom of the wagon as his footsteps appear

“Shit,” I moan, as if in pain. Then he appears.

“I have you now, you filthy beast,” the ugly fuck hisses at me. 

“Wait!” I hear another voice shout from the wagon—another one of the fuckers. 

The dark elf before me freezes, and I see a new pair of feet drop down from the wagon. 

“I’ll take it from here,” he states as he slips out from behind the wagon, and I watch as he plunges a dagger into the neck of his fellow dark elf, who drops like a sack of shit to the ground. 

I stare into his dirty elf face as he smiles down at me. He drops his dagger and raises his hands.

“I’m Casspain. And I surrender,” he says. 

I rise to my feet. 

“I’d shake your hand, but you’d probably rip it off and beat me to a pulp,” he smirks.  

And I think about doing just that.