Page 4 of Fated to the Orc

The orc tribes of Xavros are dwindling. Every year, fewer and fewer babes are born. Fertile orc women are as rare as silver-backed graruks, and our clans have spilled oceans of blood fighting over the few fertile women that remain.

The wars have cost us dearly. Too many young warriors have died. Too many clans have fallen. The relentless bloodshed has only weakened us.

Now, we are not even strong enough to drive out these soft-fleshed invaders. The humans keep to the fringes of Blackfangterritory, but I am no fool. Their numbers grow. More metal birds arrive every day.

The humans carve out their little settlements in our lands, like bugs gnawing at the roots of an ancient tree. They seem insignificant — until it’s too late.

It is only a matter of time before we are forced to take up arms against them.

The thought of dying with a blade in hand, bathed in the blood of my enemies, is a far better fate than watching my proud people fade into oblivion.

But if we strike too soon, Clan Blackfang will be wiped from history. The humans are physically weak, but their weapons are strong. We must tread carefully.

Garomshir steps into my war tent, his face grim.

“Warlord, a human messenger has arrived.”

I drag a hand through my thick beard and consider my options. My first instinct is to add another skull to my collection.

“Let him enter,” I say.

Let’s see why this fragile outsider dares to step into my lands.

The human enters my tent. He is thin and pale, wearing thick-rimmed glasses. His dark hair is slicked back with oil.

My fingers curl around the handle of my axe. One strike and his blood would paint my tent. His death would send a clear message to the human interlopers.

The human speaks.

“Varkul, the Blackfang Warlord.”

His voice is soft and weak, yet he speaks the orc tongue surprisingly well. For an outsider. He bows deeply, giving me the respect that I am due.

“My name is Dr. Kelly, and I come with an offer that will interest you.”

I lean forward on my throne, already irritated. “Speak quickly, human. I do not have time for your games.”

“Oh, but youwillmake time for me, warlord.” He smiles. A knowing, smug smile that stokes my anger. “For you see, I am offering you the chance… to sire children.”

My grip on the axe loosens, my mind momentarily blank.

“What did you just say?”

Dr. Kelly’s smirk widens. He knows he has my full attention now.

“Children, great warlord. That is what you desire most, is it not? I know the struggles your proud, strong people face. I have the answer to your troubles.”

A growl rumbles deep in my chest. “Then spit it out, human!”

“Why the rush, warlord?” That pale rat has the audacity totoywith me. “Is this how you treat all your guests?”

In a single motion I surge to my feet, seize him by the collar of his shirt and lift him into the air. His glasses go flying as his feet dangle uselessly.

“Tell me what you know this instant or I’ll rip out your spine and use it as a necklace,” I growl, tightening my grip. “Speak!”

The human flails in my grasp. “Ah, uhh—y-yes! W-well!” He swallows hard. “I-I believe that orcs can mate with h-h-humans!”

“Humans?”

---