Page 45 of Mountain Orc Daddy

Someone next to Rogar falls with a scream. Something my father once told me rises quickly to the surface at the sound of falling orcs. “A great Chieftain knows when each orc falls, because the Chieftain is that orc!”

I swing and miss, swing and miss. Then I swing and connect. Not a minion this time. A witch of Blair’s size and shape. Or maybe this is a trick to get me worried about Blair? I will not let myself be distracted.

The air is thick and dark with the smell of copper and dust and sulfur.

Two more witches appear in front of me. Young and lithe and sinister.

“Earth and stone,” I roar.

I cannot see Rogar or most of my orcs. They are fighting to live.

I use the intense love I feel for Blair and the Broken Maws Tribe to fuel my advance.

28

BLAIR

The sound of clashing steel, orc roars, and beast snarls echo all around me. No amount of sparring practice could have possibly prepared me for this chaos.

The orcs around me slash forward with their axes, swords, and hammers, weapons whistling as they pierce through the air. They throw their whole bodies into the attacks, letting loose with spinning kicks, skull crushing uppercuts, and goring their sharpened tusks into the summoned creatures who dare to get too close.

“Charge!” shouts an orc leader to my right as a second wave of orc warriors slams into the horde of summoned. Orcish cries of war are soon drowned about by the gurgles and screams of creatures dying.

But, where one summoned creature is felled, another steps up to take its place.

Meanwhile, the puppeteers stand back from the fray, spurring their minions on and raining fire, lighting, and other magical attacks down on the defenseless orcs.

“Come now, is that best you can do?” a screeching voice calls out. “I thought orcs were supposed to be fearsome warriors. But look at you, cowering in fear.”

Searching for the source of the taunting voice, I find Aisling laughing maniacally as she waves a hand, peppering a small group of orcs with what appears to be innocent rain. Except the air fills with the acrid scent of burnt flesh, the droplets hissing as they find their mark. The small group of orcs let out angry growls as they hastily retreat, arms covered in bleeding blisters, singed hair dripping off their burnt scalps.

My blood turns to fire. I want nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off Aisling’s cruel face. I lift my sword and prepare to charge her, but a seven foot tall creature intercepts me.

Calling on my years of training, I reach deep inside, envisioning a fireball forming in my opened fist. But all I find is the emptiness that has greeted me a million times before.

“Aaargh!” I scream. If there was ever a time where I truly needed magic, it was now. The rogues are slaughtering the orcs.

I whip my steel blade forward, leaving a deep gash in the hairy hide of the summoned beast standing before me. It roars at me and retreats a few paces. Blood now drips from its left shoulder and one arm swings limply at its side.

The creature roars as it charges me once more, swiping a clawed fist at my face. But I deftly step aside, leaving the creature to stumble and fall.

Scratching at the grass and dirt, the creature slowly clambers its way back to its feet, preparing to charge me once more.

That’s the problem with summoned, I think, staring at its rage filled eyes. Being bound to the witch that summoned them, they must keep charging the enemy until they win or die.

The creature I am battling lumbers forward, but a slice to the right thigh sends it tumbling to the ground once more.

Shaking my head, I take a moment to gaze around. The orcs are fighting ferociously, but there are too many summoned. I watch in horror as orc after orc is cut down, weariness and pain reflected in the eyes of those that remain.

Dammit, this was my plan. Beat back the enemy with the orcs and then unleash surprise magical attacks. But all I’ve succeeded in so far is helping lead Uzul’s people to slaughter.

My lip trembles as I think of Uzul’s kind, caring, face. The fierce orc leader that I care so deeply for placed his trust in me. And I’m letting him down.

“No!” I shout. “I will not let this happen.” I take a deep breath and shake my head.

I’m on this battlefield to use my brain, not my brawn. And it’s about damn time I make myself useful.

Scouring through the recesses of my knowledge, I search for the answer while continuing to dodge attacks from the persistent creature intent on tearing me limb from limb.

---