Orcblood Legacy: Skirmishes: Orcs by Bernard Bertram (good inspirational books .TXT) 📕

north had dissuaded any of either race from trespassing. Part of him considered returning home, but he cast the thought aside. It was time for Fangdarr to forge his own path.

INTRUDER

Poking his head over the last bit of rock in his ascent, Fangdarr peered into the darkened mouth of a cave. Teeth of stone had been carved over much of the entrance, though seemingly long ago by the wither of the cave’s face. He pulled himself up onto the shallow cliff and looked down to where he had started his climb. It was over twice his height to the hardened dirt. With luck, most trespassers would be repelled by the difficult climb alone—should they notice it at all.

As he stood at the brink of darkness, his skin tightened from the chill that emanated from within. Fangdarr took a step forward, then another. With each stride the cool air only grew worse, safe from the annihilating warmth of the sun’s light. Not perfect, he thought to himself, but safe. As he continued deeper into the abyss, he cursed himself for making such a claim too soon.

Despite the icy cave’s unwelcoming embrace, the orc could hear the rhythmic breathing of a slumbering creature further in. He could feel the air around him growing warmer in slight. It was impossible to see the form on the other side of the stone wall, though it had to be large by the amount of heat that could be felt flooding the area.

Fangdarr gripped his axe tightly and lightly stepped closer. Even his heavily calloused bare feet could feel the sting of cold weaken as they slid across the ground. The orc cautiously peeked around the corner, careful not to scrape against the wall. He nearly gasped aloud in surprise when his eyes could finally pick out the creature ahead, sleeping peacefully.

Based on the hulking form, he could only assume the monstrosity was some sort of ogre or giant. Never before had he encountered either, but Tormag had told of the massive beasts.

‘Lad, the thing ye need t’ know about ogres is they be dumber than a stack o’ gnomes. They may be big enough t’ squeeze the life out o’ an orc or dwarf, don’t ye doubt, but they can be bested by playin’ smart. Giants, on the other hand, are the worse o’ the bunch from what I been told. Never seen one meself. Folks say ye’ll know one when ye see it. And if ye see it, run.’

Fangdarr eyed the cave’s large inhabitant with curiosity and concern. It had taken him another two days just to find this place—a delay he did not wish to repeat. His icy fingers clutched the shaft of his marvelous weapon more tightly. He needed this cave.

TRINKETS

The sound of loose stone cracked beneath Fangdarr’s feet. He cursed his carelessness and held impossibly still, waiting for the beast to stir. The orc’s heart pounded within his chest as every instinct begged him to flee. But Fangdarr didn’t. He couldn’t. Too stubborn was his pride. Too great his need to prove himself, though no spectators were present to witness. This was his challenge. The true test of strength that he must undergo to know he is fit for this world. At least, that’s what Fangdarr tried to convince himself.

Whether by bravery or blind arrogance the orc stepped closer, raising Driktarr high in the air. He disregarded the scuffling of his feet, thinking only to cull his opponent while he held the advantage. The stone shards crunched loudly beneath his weight, breaking the enchantment of slumber on the enormous being. As Fangdarr’s axe came down, the monster began to uncurl its limbs.

He didn’t know what had possessed him in that moment, but his weapon halted just before crashing through his victim’s thick skull. The creature looked up at him, concern and surprise in its eyes, wondering at the random appearance of the ferocious orc that sought to bring its end. Fangdarr, despite his self-imagined test for glory and validation, couldn’t bring himself to squelch the life from those dark, gray eyes. For, though they belonged to a monstrous creature, he felt neither malice nor hatred toward it, only pity.

Fangdarr lowered Driktarr’s blade to the ground and stared at the creature, as it looked back at him. The terrified expression on its face slowly dwindled, replaced by rage. It rose to its full height within the tight confines of the cave, its head nearly scraping the stone above. It stood nearly twice Fangdarr’s height with arms as thick as his muscled torso and a gut doubling his girth. Though the behemoth was massive, Fangdarr knew it must have been an ogre rather than a giant. But such a fact was little comfort as the hulking oaf stomped a heavy foot against the stone threateningly.

Regret washed through Fangdarr. The ogre continued to stare at him, as if questioning his presence, though made no move to attack. It seemed unlikely the orc could best the creature now that it was awake. Pondering the best course of action, Fangdarr peered into its gray eyes. Beneath its menacing scowl, a masked expression of fear could be seen lurking.

With the ogre’s patience fleeting, the orc found himself blurting, “Hello,” awkwardly. Fangdarr nearly covered his mouth in shock as the words passed his lips.

He watched as the ogre’s eyes continued to see red and narrow dangerously. Then, they slowly turned soft and a smile spread beneath, revealing a handful of missing teeth. “Hello!” came the ecstatic reply, much to Fangdarr’s surprise. He had never heard an ogre speak before, but the word came out slowly and somewhat odd, as if the creature’s mind needed time to rummage through its memories on how to speak. The orc wondered if all ogres spoke in such a sluggish manner, or if this one was perhaps feeble-minded.

The ogre extended a large hand forward, catching Fangdarr by surprise and forcing him into a defensive position. Its hand remained extended, though its face