Orcblood Legacy: Skirmishes: Orcs by Bernard Bertram (top novels .txt) 📗

he had committed against undeserving victims were simply waved away, denying them the respect they should have been given.

And yet, despite knowing the horror he had wrought, Fangdarr, too, couldn’t help but return Raz’ja’s smile.

Bending low, the orc gripped the man’s 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. Raz’ja tilted his head curiously as the sound of a woman’s 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 man’s ears.

Seeing his ally’s puzzled expression, the orc simply stated, “Her kill. Her ears.”

Raz’ja’s 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 troll’s scowl turned to humor and he burst into hysterical laughter. Finally catching his breath, Raz’ja patted his own overflowing sack of ears on his belt. “Let’s just hope ya have enough.”

Fangdarr looked down to his own pouch, blood dripping from the soaked leather as it bulged with the ears of those he had killed. “It is enough.”

HIVE

Fangdarr followed Raz’ja 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 trolls’ wicked grins nodded with approval from all around. They clung to the rocky walls, eagerly awaiting news from their chieftain.

Raz’ja 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. Fangdarr’s respect and admiration for the cunning troll rose with each step he took. At any time, Raz’ja 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 Raz’ja. After all, why would the troll chieftain go through all the trouble for a sack of ears?

The passage seemed to go on forever—and 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. Raz’ja waited for him at the opening with a wide smile on his face. The troll extended his arm in a wide sweeping motion. “Welcome, brutha, to my kingdom!”

Fangdarr’s 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 orc’s wordlessness, Raz’ja stepped forward to a crudely carved stone slab. He pulled the sack from his belt and dropped it atop, drawing Fangdarr’s attention. Without prompt, the astonished orc, too, set his ears on the stone.

“A’right,” Raz’ja 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. “Da agreement is met.”

“What this mean?” Fangdarr tilted his head curiously.

“Ears asked, ears received. Da alliance is fulfilled. Now, we make ya chieftain.”

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 couldn’t help but feel an inviting sense of longing. Truth be told, there was nothing special about it—the walls consisted of thick logs, impaled into the earth as if by no design. But it screamed ‘Orc’, 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 father’s legacy. He could hardly believe how it all had turned out. Meeting Raz’ja 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 customs—details even his mother or Tormag refused to provide.

Namely, the Ortuk Malid. Fangdarr’s 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 Raz’ja didn’t accompany him, to show Fangdarr’s strength with thousands of trolls standing behind him. But he knew this was a task he needed to accomplish alone. ‘Ya must prove dis to yaself, Fangdarr,’ the troll had said to him. ‘But don’tcha worry, friend. Once ya are chieftain, the work begins.’

Fangdarr didn’t know exactly what Raz’ja had meant, but, if one thing was certain, it was that the trolls wouldn’t 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 gates—if they could even be called such—of 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, I’m 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