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

As one, every ogre in the group began laughing at Fangdarr. “Orcsie think he do sumthin’?” the ringleader asked before replacing his mirthful smile into a disapproving frown. He took another two steps closer, only a few paces from the orc. “We take him. He ours.”

By then, Gub had lost his attention on the sparkling water running over his feet and taken notice of the group of ogres. “Ogres!” he exclaimed with a smile. Jumping up and down in glee and smacking his pudgy hands together, Gub skipped merrily to Fangdarr. “Look, Faydar, ogres!” He chuckled, pointing to the band of monstrous creatures.

Fangdarr didn’t know whether the ogres could be trusted or not, or if they were Gub’s kin or just happening by, but Gub seemed to trust them. The orc also recognized that the behemoths could have ambushed and killed them both without much effort. He nodded in acceptance to Gub and turned to the leader. “We go with you?”

Once again, the band laughed at his expense, renewing the wave of humiliation Fangdarr felt. “No, orcsie. He ours. We take him.” With a motion of his fattened head, the ogre instructed his subordinates to continue their task of claiming Gub.

Gub needed no convincing, however, as he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the nearest ogre in a great hug. The adorable and wide smile on his face was met with an intense look of disgust by his victim, who tried to push away the affectionate ogre. “Eh! Boss this one funny. Ya sure ya wants ‘im?”

The leader let out a low groan. “He is ogre. Ogres stick together. We fix ‘im.”

Still caught in the breath-stealing embrace, the other ogre scoffed. Finally, he managed to push Gub away who seemed entirely unfazed and moved to hug the next ogre in line. With a deadness in his expression, that creature simply accepted his fate and waited for the overly long embrace to end. Fangdarr watched as Gub’s smile remained spread from ear to ear as the pair of ogres he hugged grabbed hold of his arms and started leading him toward the group.

“G-Gub?!” the orc called out in plea. He stepped forward, feeling the pit in his stomach expand with every step further they went. Fangdarr waited for his friend to speak on his behalf and request that the ogres take him in as well. But as Gub simply kept his ignorant smile on his face as the ogres escorted him away, waving back to Fangdarr as if they would see each other soon. The orc felt a profound sense of despondency hit him. He had never felt so abandoned before. Despite their short time together, Fangdarr had thought that he and Gub were friends.

Another bout of laughter escaped from the ringleader as he watched the orc fall into sorrow alone in the stream. That demeaning chuckle pierced through Fangdarr like a spear, reminding him of just how weak and alone he truly was. He forced back his emotions, refusing to allow his tormentor to witness his vulnerability. But the condescending sneer was enough to break him.

Dejected, Fangdarr abruptly turned and stormed off in the opposite direction—haunted by the incessant laughter at his back. The wind stung his eyes and cheeks as they chilled the wetness that ran down his face. He sprinted as fast as he could deeper into the Lithe, cursing himself for trusting Gub. As hate burned in his heart like a raging inferno, Fangdarr promised himself that he would never cease his hatred for ogres.

DESPERATE

Exhaustion dropped Fangdarr to his knees in the middle of the wood. He had no idea where he was anymore. All he had cared about was running from the snickering ogre that had stripped him of his only companion. The orc scoffed to himself as he realized the falseness of that thought. My ‘friend’. Panting to recover from his sprint, Fangdarr fell to the ground and onto his back. Alone, he couldn’t hold back the flow of tears any longer.

Grating negativity chipped away at him. I’ll be alone forever, he thought. Fangdarr clamped his eyes tightly in sorrow in a feeble attempt to shut out reality. It was no use. As he opened them once more, nothing had changed. The tranquil woods seemed to voice comfort, showing that, no matter his troubles, all would remain the same. The birds would sing, the leaves would rustle, and the trees would ever continue in their path upward. But, in that moment, the metaphoric lesson was lost on the distraught orc. For he only wished to let the pain linger.

I wish Bitrayuul were here.

Memories of his childhood next to his half-blooded kin crept in. At first, they were pleasant remembrances of his youth. How they played together, hunted together—an inseparable pair since their beginning. Then even those fond recollections turned sour as the reality set in. That’s all they were. Memories. Flickering illusions of a time long since passed. Even Bitrayuul had gone from him, leaving him to solitude.

Am I so terrible?

Fangdarr wept beneath the shade of the trees as his thoughts turned from negative to dangerous. What is the point? Everyone has left. Mother, Bitrayuul, Tormag, Gub. Is this my curse, to be turned away and left behind by all I meet? What purpose do I serve? He stared up at the canopies and the light that pierced through between the overlapping branches. As the orc sniffled, he could hear only the sound of his own vulnerability through the wood. Growling in anger at that echo of weakness, Fangdarr pulled himself up to his rear and forced away his tears. It didn’t drive away his anguish, but it masked his sorrow beneath a false visage of stern determination.

Agh! Why are you so weak?! he scolded himself as his teeth grit together. Get up, you fool!

Rising to his feet, Fangdarr started to twist his neck in each direction to get his bearings. He forgot how exhausted he was, though, and nearly toppled over. His outward snarl defiantly