ã€ŠWarlordã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Muscles rippled beneath his skin as he charged across the savannah towards his prey. Feet slammed into the grassy plains as the smell of dirt, animals and fear filled his nostrils.

    He reared up back into his bipedal form as he approached quarry, to their eyes he seemingly materialised out of the grassland his tough leathery hide looming powerfully over them.

    ¡°Oh shit its back!¡± Yelled the small female human as more tears streaked down across her face.

    ¡°Calm down, we got this it¡¯s just a dumb orc.¡± Said a large male human wearing one of those metal skins they were so partial to.

    He didn¡¯t hesitate or slow, he had learned long ago that movement was life on the plains, and that the slow hunter was the dead hunter.

    He thundered across the few metres separating them before barrelling into the small female, she was a priority as she could cast annoying magic that would heal his prey, key word, could.

    He ran up to her grabbing her unceremoniously by the torso before he once more disappeared into the grasslands, the slow hunter was the dead hunter. He repeated the mantra in his head as silenced his writhing captive with a solid punch to the face.

    He felt bone crumble and give way and her eyes bulge and pop under the pressure of his blow.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    He dumped her body onto the dirt, he would save her succulent flesh for later and began to stalk the armoured human once again.

    ¡°Fight me fiend!¡± He roared. ¡°Stop this game you coward, come and fight me!¡±

    He had been harrying this group for days, wounding them before disappearing back into the wilds, not letting them sleep, not letting them think. It was taking its toll.

    He circled the armoured man waiting for an opening. The man was far slower than when this started, his reactions delayed, then it happened.

    As the human came down from the adrenaline of the earlier engagement he lowered his blade slightly in exhaustion, and turned his back to the hiding place of his tormenter.

    That was all the opening the orc needed rushing out of the grass and just as the man started to turn toward the source of the sudden noise the orc crashed into his back with the speed of a freight train, knocking him down, and pinning him as such.

    The orc then proceeded to disable his quarry by grabbing the limbs of the prone struggling human and twisting them until he heard a crunch.

    Only when all of his enemy¡¯s limbs were broken did he roll him onto his back and finish him off with a swift bite to the throat, ripping off enough flesh to make the man¡¯s spine visible.

    He gorged on the flesh of the warrior before cleaning his tusks and returning to the dead form of the young woman. He slung her over his shoulder and began to walk back to his camp smiling.

    He was pleased, human women were always tastier, their flesh was softer, especially the mages.

    His name was Takarn, and he was a lone hunter of the plains of Belador.

    Takarn¡¯s smile grew even larger showing off the tusks rising from his bottom jaw and the rows of razor sharp teeth that lined the rest of his mouth.

    He was strong, he would be the strongest. He licked his lips in anticipation. He could almost taste it.

 Chapter 2

    Takarn dropped the small women on the floor in front of his lean to shelter, it was built against too large, powerful and ancient acacia trees and was covered in a variety of skins, some of them human, speaking of which.

    He picked up one of his stone knives and began to flay the skin from the human woman¡¯s bones before draining the blood from her body and then greedily eating her soft supple flesh.

    Delicious.

    He left some of the remanets of her flesh to dry and then disposed of the remains of her body before lying down for a long deserving rest, he had been hunting them for days, now was time to sleep, tomorrow he would travel to the kurultai and show the khans his new strength he would join the war band and bring fire and blood to the realms of man.

    He fell asleep to the thoughts of carnage and conquest.

    -----

    He woke up to the sound birds and the beams of the early morning sun shining through his makeshift shelter.

    He hurriedly packed the human jerky he had made earlier before putting on his hide bracers, belt and loin cloth before setting out for the kurultai.

    A kurultai was a military meeting called by the khans in which every able bodied orc was expected to attend. Takarn had heard from another hunter like himself that a kurultai was being held on the banks of the mighty Haskaroth River, it would bring the plains orcs together into a mighty war band with which they would then spill over into one of the adjacent human kingdoms. It would be glorious.

    The purpose of a kurultai was three fold: First, it served in amassing all the orcs together into a great fighting force. Second, it would allow all of the khans to compete for the title of Khagan or Warlord, they would be the true leader of the war band. Thirdly, although all of the Khans had personal bands of warriors, many, many other orcs would join the war band in the coming days, these orcs would be divided among the khans to command, and of those orcs many would choose to compete for the favour of the khans in a grand tournament in the hope of being appointed as Bogdans, a Bogdan was the leader of a band of warriors. This was why Takarn was attending the kurultai, he would join the tournament, become a Bogdan, gain glory and have his name echo through the ages, or he would die trying.

    -----

    Khan Kelshar¡¯s POV

    The large powerful old orc opened his eyes before promptly shutting them again.

    Fuck am I hungover. He thought.

    He rolled over causing one of the lithe Orcish women he had mated with last night to yelp in surprise, he grunted at her reaction before dressing and stepping out into the blazing sun of the plains.Stolen novel; please report.

    Khan Kelshar had seen 67 summers and it was beginning to show, his face was wrinkled with many laugh lines and his powerful tanned body was covered in many scars, he was a warrior.

    Another orc ran up the hill approaching him.

    ¡°Khan!¡± He yelled

    ¡°My Khan!¡± He was a smaller orc, a boy by the name of Lorik. He was the favoured messenger of Kelshar¡¯s personal regiment.

    ¡°What is it boy!¡± Kelshar boomed across the distance between them causing the boy to immediately stop and fall to his knees, ha, never ceases to amuse me he chuckled in his mind.

    ¡°My Khan, a meeting has been called to discuss the target of our most grand and terrifying war band.¡± Bah, meetings. Kelshar scoffed, he hated them, he knew they were a required evil before battle, but that didn¡¯t mean he had to like them.

    ¡°Where?¡± He asked crestfallen, remembering the women he had left in his bed, and the day had started so well. He thought.

    ¡°At the war tent sir.¡± Kelshar didn¡¯t even wait for the boy to finish before walking off toward the meeting, leaving the poor messenger in his dust.

    The war tent was not hard to find, it was about three times taller than any off the surrounding buildings. It was built in an octagonal shape out of bones and hide with the great skull of a Plains Elephant decorating the entrance.

    He walked through the threshold, the guards outside the door snapping to attention when the recognised him. I swear the guards get younger every time I see them, I doubt those two had even lived through 30 summers!

    He walked into the room nodding a greeting at each of the men in front of him they were the khans of the plains, and soon one of them would be the Khagan.

    ¡°You are finally here Kelshar, I was beginning to wonder if you had finally died of old age.¡± Sniggered a small wily orc, anyone would think him to weak a fighter to be a Khan, those people were dead. Kelshar had seen how quick this man could move, it was truly terrifying.

    ¡°Good to see you too Khan Ishmael.¡± He replied deadpan, this banter between them was nothing new.

    ¡°Now, now boys lets be civil about this.¡± Spoke Khan Sheera the first ever female Khan of the plains, the she orc had long elegant features on her well-muscled but lithe frame she smiled at him provocatively but he knew better than to fall for it, she was a predator through and through and she would find no prey in him.

    ¡°I call this meeting of the 57<sup>th</sup> kurultai to order.¡± droned a monotone voice.

    ¡°Oh come on Khan Dagorlad, at least try to lighten up.¡± Spoke Khan Belog, a short, burly, hairy orc with a penchant for causing mischief.

    ¡°I must agree with Dagorlad.¡± Spoke a tall powerfully built handsome orc. His name was Khan Drenshawn he was the number one candidate for Khagan.

    ¡°Fine.¡± Relented Belog as we all sat around the circular table, the final member of or party still sitting in the shadows keeping to himself.

    ¡°Care to join us Khan Marlor?¡± Khan Kelshar asked but he just grunted and stayed where he was.

    ¡°Alright let us begin.¡± Said Sheera excitedly, this was her first kurultai and it showed.

    ¡°First we must discuss logistics.¡± Spoke the monotone voice of Khan Dagorlad and everyone around the table let out a groan.

    -----

    The meeting carried on late into the evening and we were beginning to pack up and leave when we felt it.

    The earth shook as if the hand of god had descended and was shaking us himself.

    ¡°What is this?!¡± Sheera exclaimed

    Khan Kelshar and several of the other veteran members chuckled before responding.

    ¡°This is what it feels like when hundreds of thousands of orcs march toward the same place.¡± He said in an attempt to placate the female khan, trying to soothe her wounded pride after the laughter. ¡°The horde has come.¡± He finished looking wistfully looking at the horizon. What a wonderful day this was.

 Chapter 3

    He stood in the middle of the horde, we waited outside the base of the kurultai. It had been a day since the horde had arrived and now they were to receive the address of the Khans. The hot sun beat down upon our backs as we waited, anticipation thick in our bodies and minds.

    Then finally the Khans appeared, he didn¡¯t know who started it but soon everyone was stomping with all of their might, causing the ground to quiver and shake under the might of Orcish feet.

    We continued to pound the ground with our feet, the noise only rising in both speed and intensity until the Khans, as one, raised their arms.

    We stopped, the silence that ensued was more deafening then the noise of before. Takarn stood their surrounded by the largest army to have ever been assembled by his people, and for the first time in his life he was nervous, he was nervous as he knew that his future would be decided in the next few minutes.

    A large powerfully built orc walked forward from the line of Khans and began to speak in a deep smooth voice.

    ¡°Greetings warriors of the plains!¡± He roared at us and we roared our ascent back.

    ¡°You know why you are here. You are here to break this entrapment! For too long have the realms of men kept us hemmed into this, our last bastion, the plains. For too long have their so called ¡®adventurers¡¯ ventured into or holy ground and spilt orc blood. But I say, no more!¡± He yelled the words at us and we once more roared our ascent back at him.

    ¡°No more will it be our blood that is spilt, no more will we have to hide from the humans. Soon my brethren, soon it will be there bodies that litter the fields, their men will die in droves, their women will be raped and mewl for mercy and we will eat their children.¡± The crowd was in a frenzy at this point, Takarn just looked upon the man in front of him with admiration.

    ¡°Soon we will feast until our stomachs can hold no more, so I ask you. Brothers. Sisters. Are. You. Hungry?!¡± We yelled an affirmation back at him louder than any other chant before but he just shook his head.

    ¡°I can¡¯t here you. I¡¯ll ask again. Are. You Hungry?!¡± The sound was deafening, a lesser species may have fainted just form the sheer cacophony of noise that assaulted the ears of all who stood on that field.

    ¡°Good. All of you who wish to be Bogdans assemble back here at noon.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    With that the Khans dispersed back into the camp and the orcs soon followed suit, stripping the area clean of vegetation in order to makeshift shelters.

    But not Takarn.

    Takarn just stood on the field, the earth had been flattened and hardened by the empowered stomps of the Orcish horde.

    Here, on this hallowed ground is where I shall become a Bogdan, here is where my future will begin. He thought, before shaking his head and walking off to build a shelter before all of the resources were gone.

    -----

    Hundreds of orcs stood under the hot noon sun, only the strongest would try to become Bogdans, for the competition was stiff and if you showed weakness you would not leave this field.

    The Khans stood in front of the assembled orcs, ready to address them.

    ¡°Welcome back.¡± Said a short squat hairy looking orc as he smiled mischievously at them.

    The powerfully built orc walked up to the crowd again and now that he was closer Takarn could distinguish the man¡¯s features. He had a strong jawline and a prominent brow, coupled with thick bushy eye brows and a pitch black top know. He was handsome and had the tell-tale scars of a warrior, a true orc.

    ¡°Yes, welcome back. You are the cr¨¨me of the crop.¡± He said gesturing to all of the assembled orcs. ¡°You are the meanest, biggest, strongest motherfuckers out there are you not?¡± He asked questioningly, we all roared back at him.

    ¡°You say this, but where is your proof?¡± He asked again. ¡°You come here wishing to become Bogdans, commanders, leaders. But to do that you must show us that you are indeed as capable as you say. So I ask you once more, are you the toughest, meanest, biggest, strongest motherfuckers in both this world and the next?!¡± We yelled our affirmation at him once more.

    ¡°Show me!¡± He yelled back before and older but still muscled and fit looking orc explained the rules of the fight to us.

    It was a battle royal, they split the crowd roughly down the middle and made us two teams the muds, and the cleans. Takarn was one of the Muds so he did as was ordered and bent down, smearing mud all over his body.

    The rules were simple, the teams would go onto either side of the field, charge each other and then battle until only one side was left standing. During this battle the Khans would be watching, waiting for anyone to distinguish themselves. After the battle the Khans would each choose 50 Bogdans.

    With the rules explained the two sides moved to either side of the field.

    Takarn was in the third rank and could smell the sweat and anticipation on the orcs beside him. He grinned and reached down to adjust the bracers on his onyx black skin.

    A chant started somewhere down the line and it was soon picked up by all of the Muds, it was the war song of Thuul Doom. And while staring down their enemy Takarn and his comrades sung their defiance.

    Thuul Doom, Thuul Doom a sprtiz ze walder, Thuul Doom vei arma spritz arma phree.

    Thuul Doom, Thuul Doom a sprtiz mor weiler, Thuul Doom vei arma spritz arma phree.

    The chant continued, gaining volume until the entire battle line was vibrating was noise and tension, it was all ceased as a single note cut through the chant.

    Brrrrrrrrrrrrooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm!

    It was the war horn, both sides charged in a storm of rage and flesh, we screamed cries of pure primal rage as we approached, and then with a deafening roar, battle was joined.

 Chapter 4

    The front line of both teams were destroyed, crushed against one another by the frantic attempts of the other ranks to join the fray, knocked out before they had a chance to throw a single punch.

    The second line fared better, though not by much, what they did manage to do was break the battle lines as a particularly large orc of the muds managed to thrust himself deep into the enemy battle lines before the cleans could take him out. But the damage was already done.

    Takarn and many of the other orcs of the third, fourth and fifth rank poured into the gap changing the battle from to organised lines into a chaotic melee. And chaos did reign.

    Takarn had been surging through the lines for a short while before finally taking the chance to look back, what he saw was madness, the two teams had descended into a disorganised horde stopping any semblance of organised fighting instead opting for 1 on 1 duels.

    Takarn made a decision, he needed to distinguish himself, and so he would fight, even if he had to beat his enemies with his own severed arms he would fight.

    His first opponent was a large fat orc, he lasted a grand total of 3 seconds. Takarn torqued a vicious left hook right into the fat orc¡¯s jaw. He felt bone crumble and teeth get knocked back into the orc¡¯s throat, he would find later that the orc died from chocking on his own teeth, but Takarn cared not. There was still a battle to be won.

    Takarn was a storm of blows, reigning down pain and fury down upon The Cleans. The next enemy went down to a knee to the ribs. The next after he ripped the tusks of a downed orc and then stuffed them into his enemy¡¯s eyes.

    Takarn let the blood rage overtake him he crushed skulls, tore flesh, broke limbs, gouged eyes, and mauled necks in a frenzied storm of blood and carnage.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    He came back to sobriety and realised he was surrounded by a contingent of the Cleans, it seemed he was a big enough threat to deserve special treatment, he looked at his opponents and they looked back at him, their fear pungent in his nose.

    ¡°What are you doing you fools?! Kill the monster!¡± Yelled a large female orc as she pushed a smaller orc toward me while another group charged from behind. Big mistake.

    I grabbed the smaller orc by the waist, and then turned around swiftly throwing him into the group behind him.

    They collided with a satisfying crunch.

    The fight continued like this for the next several minutes but no warrior no matter how strong can survive forever Takarn went down under a storm of blows but not before he had accumulated a small mountain of bodies beneath him, some dead some writhing in pain.

    He charged his enemies in a final roar of defiance before a swift kick to the head silenced him

    -----

    Mirabelle walked purposefully down the ornate hallways of Bellmonte Castle.

    Bellmonte was the capital of the human kingdom of Belandier famed for its culture and wine.

    Servants bowed and prostrated themselves before her as she walked down the marble hallways, any other day she would be stopping to bask in their admiration, but not today, today she had bigger things on her mind.

    She walked into her husband¡¯s study with a pout on her face and rage in her heart, he was going to pay.

    Her husband King Altaier of Belandier was a slight bookish man, always reading some treatise or another, always to wary of the opinions of his subjects, too afraid of what someone might think to make a proper decision. In short, a bad king.

    ¡°Altaier!¡± She whined. ¡°Why did you send away the court minstrel, he was funny!¡± She said while weakly banging her fists against him in a fake tantrum.

    He looked up from the book he was reading, Treatise on the War of Belador. She remembered that war, it was the one in which her ancestors had subjugated the plains orcs, destroying the last, great war band and putting an end to the orcs as a legitimate threat.

    She smiled as her husband looked up at her, they would spend the entire evening discussing the finer points of poetry and more specifically their previous minstrels inadequacy in it.

    Little did they know, to the north east, a problem was brewing. One far bigger and more urgent than why the court minstrel doesn¡¯t know a rhyming word for orange.

 Chapter 5

    Takarn was awoken with a kick to the side, his eyelids fluttered apart and he felt a massive pressure on his chest.

    ¡°Dig yourself out, they¡¯re deciding the Bogdans.¡± Said a feminine voice, he looked up at her. She had tanned skin, a snub nose and long ears.

    He tried to rise but was unable to, he then looked around and found that he covered in a layer of unconscious bodies.

    He pulled them off him one by one and then attempted to stand, Arrrrgggghhh! An immense pain shot up his left leg as he put weight on it.

    The female orc held out an arm for him, he just looked at it like it was the plague. Takarn was a lone hunter, he needed no help.

    ¡°Come on you big baby we¡¯ve got to get to the address.¡± This spurred him on, no matter how hard you fought, and if you weren¡¯t at the address then you had no chance of becoming Bogdan.

    He grunted and put his arm around her and used her to limp toward the crowd of assembling orc¡¯s. He took this time to ask a question that had been in his mind for a while.

    ¡°Why did you help me?¡± He spoke, it just made no sense, if she left him there than there was less competition and more chance of her becoming Bogdan, it made no sense.

    ¡°Respect, I was the orc who commanded our encirclement of you.¡± She grunted back in response and they were both silent for the rest of the journey.

    The handsome orc once again walked out of the line of Khans.

    ¡°Good work, you are the survivors, the fighters, the warriors!¡± He yelled the last word and we gave a dispirited tired yell in return, everyone was hurting.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Each Khan will now take their turn to choose their Bogdans.¡± He said while stepping forward and examining a few orcs until he finally choose 50 of the biggest orcs, Takarn was not one of them.

    The next forward was a wily looking thin orc who chose the shifty looking orcs, the ones more liable to put a knife in between your ribs than to fight you fair and square.

    Khans came out one by one and choose their Bogdans until only 2 Khans were left to choose, and Takarn still stood, with the slowly falling sun shining over his shoulder.

    The next Khan to approach was older than the rest, battle scarred and had a face covered in laugh lines which spoke of a long life lived well, he walked right up to Takarn and stood in his face before speaking to him.

    ¡°Greetings.¡± Said the man in a voice as smooth as butter.

    ¡°Greetings.¡± Rumbled Takarn in response.

    ¡°You fought well, I watched you.¡± Takarn was about to respond before he was cut off.

    ¡°But you are too reckless, you take to many risks, if you had a squad with you in that moment you would have broken the encirclement and fought to the end. But oh well, some things can¡¯t be helped just know I am looking forward to how you fight with your new unit.¡±

    When Takarn heard that he couldn¡¯t believe his ears.

    ¡°Does that mean?¡± He asked in disbelief.

    ¡°Yes son, I Khan Kelshar declare you Bogdan, you entered this field as¡­¡± He trailed off the last few syllables of the word before Takarn realised the Khan didn¡¯t know his name.

    ¡°Takarn.¡±

    ¡°You entered this field as Takarn, but now you shall leave it as Bogdan Takarn, chosen of Kelshar.¡±

    Takarn was about to jump for joy before he remembered his leg and just satisfied himself with swelling his chest in pride.

    ¡°After this go get yourself healed at the shamans son, you look like you need it.¡± He said while looking at Takarn¡¯s mangled leg. And with that he left, to choose his remaining Bogdans.

    When the choosing was done Takarn still stood supported by a Bogdan chosen by Sheera, the sun set on his previous life as a plains hunter and tomorrow it would rise on his new life, Takarn Bogdan of Kelshar. He smiled.

    ¡°All of you who were chosen as Bogdans you are expected to assemble a troop of fifty orcs, go collect a crest for all of them for all of them and yourself and then train them until further notice, dismissed!¡± Yelled the handsome orc who told them of their new responsibilities.

    Takarn limped to the healer and then went to sleep, he would find his men in the morning, and it would be on their backs that he would ride into eternity.

 Chapter 6

    Takarn woke up to the sound of footsteps approaching his hide shelter, he opened his eyes slightly, to give the illusion of unconsciousness but still examining the intruder.

    The orc walked up and Takarn immediately dismissed him as a threat, he appeared to be 15 summers old and was still quite scrawny for his age, he stopped about a metre short of Takarn¡¯s sleeping area and cleared his throat.

    ¡°Bogdan Takarn?¡± The boy asked questioningly, as the large muscular, dark skinned orc rose from his slumber.

    ¡°Yes, what is it you seek?¡± Takarn asked with genuine curiosity everyone knew it was bad form to wake a sleeping orc, and bad form could get you killed.

    ¡°I am a messenger sent by Khan Kelshar, he requests that you meet with him at once.¡± Now this woke Takarn up, what did his commander want with him? He spent the next few minutes¡¯ frantically dressing.

    ¡°Take me to him.¡± Takarn rumbled and the boy gestured for him to follow before walking off up the hill higher from the banks of the river.

    As they walked through the main camp Takarn took this moment to truly appreciate how far the river encampment had come.

    It had started as nothing, just mud and trees, now it was a vast sea of tents, scents, sights and delights, merchants hawked their wares, children ran around Takarn¡¯s feet squealing in delight. Smells of spices and perfumes of the plains assaulted his nostrils. It was a true feast for the senses.

    He walked up the trodden earth path toward what had affectionately been called ¡®Khans Hill¡¯ they approached the summit and when there they were briefly stopped by a pair of guards.

    ¡°What is your name and business?¡± Said the leftmost guard in a gruff voice.

    ¡°My name is Lorik, Lorik the messenger and this,¡± He said gesturing to Takarn. ¡°Is the great Bogdan Takarn.¡±

    The guards spoke amongst themselves for a few more seconds before letting them pass. Lorik led Takarn through the winding paths of Khans Hill, before stopping in front of a truly immense hide shelter and gesturing for him to enter.

    Takarn gulped nervously before steeling himself and stepping through the threshold.

    What he entered into was a chaos, pure and simple.

    People rushed around carrying various pieces of armour and different forms written on the coarse papyrus used by the plains orcs.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    In the room stood Khan Kelshar, now up close Takarn could finally appreciate just how immense the older Khan truly was. Takarn stood at 6¡¯10, tall even for an orc, but this beast of a man towered at nearly seven foot with a well-muscled athletic frame to match. He was currently being fitted in a suit of cast iron plate mail, this caused Takarn to do a double take, metal was a rarity on the plains and with that much, with that much one could buy an entire war band.

    On the opposite side of the room stood five orcs each different to the last, on the far left stood a large male orc with impressive tusks and bulk. Next to him stood a thin lithely built male orc who wore two vicious looking bone long knives at his hips and had a cruel and intelligent glint in his eye. Next to him was a beautiful she orc, she stood ram rod straight her hands clasped in front of were in the trademark religious pose of the eternal blue sky. Beside her stood two more generic looking orcs.

    After examining them he turned back to the Khan who, much to Takarn¡¯s surprise was watching him with a knowing smile on his face.

    ¡°Welcome Bogdan Takarn.¡± He said in his deep smooth voice causing Takarn to flinch, he still knew not why he had been summoned here and he was still quite wary.

    ¡°You called my Khan.¡± Takarn rumbled back.

    ¡°That I did, let me ask you a question Takarn, have you ever had a command before?¡±

    ¡°No lord Khan I have not.¡± Takarn replied deadpan.

    ¡°I thought not, well then it seems I was correct to summon you lot here.¡± He said gesturing toward the assembled orcs, causing the man who was at the time fitting the Khans bracers to squeal in surprise at the sudden motion.

    ¡°I was about to inquire as to who they were my lord.¡± He asked, assessing the other members of the meeting once more.

    ¡°They, Bogdan Takarn, are the most promising applicants for the position of Ataman.¡± An Ataman was the Orcish title for a sergeant, Takarn recalled. Their role was to help the Bogdan with command, logistics and training of the unit and it was no question that having a good Ataman could mean the difference between life and death.

    ¡°I have summoned them here as you.¡± He said gesturing toward Takarn. ¡°Are in my opinion, the most promising Bogdan under my command, so I have taken it upon myself to help you along your way.¡± He said smiling

    Takarn just kneeled before his Khan. ¡°My Khan, I am unworthy of such aid.¡±

    ¡°Bah, rise Bogdan. Are you the Khan here?¡± He asked questioningly.

    ¡°No my Khan.¡± He answered warily wondering where Kelshar was going with this.

    ¡°Then considering you are not I will be the one to decide what you are and are not worthy of.¡± He spoke. ¡°No go, take your pick.¡±

    He said dismissing both Takarn and the Ataman applicants.

    ¡°Oh wait Takarn.¡± He heard the Khan, say while he rushed outside the hut to catch up to Takarn.

    ¡°Yes my Khan.¡± He said turning.

    ¡°I almost forgot, here.¡± He said handing over a small sack of roughly fifty medallions shaped in the form of a Great Plains elephant.

    ¡°My crest, saves you from having to requisition them yourself.¡± He said before turning to re-enter his hut.

    ¡°Who knows?¡± He said over his shoulder. ¡°Maybe one day I shall reward you enough to carry your own into battle.¡± He said chuckling as he retreated back into the shade of his shelter.

    Takarn turned back to face the assembled orcs, smiling as he daydreamed of what his future crest would look like, but that was in the future, for now he still needed to choose an Ataman.

 Chapter 7

    Takarn turned back to the assembled orcs and immediately dismissed the two generic looking ones they both seemed to busy checking out the she orcs behind to take the situation seriously.

    Takarn dismissed both of them with a punch to the head and an order to take Khan Kelshar¡¯s command seriously, they ran back the hill squealing and went to go lick their wounds.

    He then turned back to the remaining orcs and interrogated all of them in turn. What he found out was¡­ Interesting.

    The large male orc, Tuskarar was a fighter, plain and simple. And that was the problem, simple. After talking with him for a small amount of time Takarn could already see how he was lacking in intelligence. The large orc promised that if he was chosen he would assemble fifty of the biggest, meanest, greenest orcs he could find.

    The smaller male orc was also interesting, he was smart, had a sharp wit and as he assured Takarn, sharper blades. The only problem was he was slimy as a jellied pond eel. He cold put knives in the enemy, but Takarn was sure sooner or later a knife would find its home in his back.

    Finally there was the she orc, she was a good fighter, had a sharp wit and promised that she had a troop of well-trained soldiers ready. Only problem was, that as Takarn had guessed, she was an evangelistic member of the faith of the eternal blue sky. Now this usually wouldn¡¯t be a problem but it was the god which she worshipped and the fact that she preached his name at every opportunity. The eternal blue sky is the state religion of the orcs and preaches freedom and travel above all else. In it there are three deities, these are: Hirna, Lord of the Hunt, and the patron deity of Takarn, followers of Hirna practiced killing and efficiency both in equal measure. Next was Bel, Lord of the Sky, Bel was the king of gods and taught freedom above all, for what is more free than the eternal blue sky? Finally there was Nodonn, Lord of the Plains, Nodonn valued travel, life and the preservation of nature above all else.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    The she orc was a devout Belite, he could tell from the small carved birds she had woven into her long dark hair.

    He decided he would choose the she orc, for although she was an evangelist and it would be annoying to here her preach constantly he could put up with it for quality soldiers, and hey, at least she wasn¡¯t a Nodonnite.

    She promised she would have the men ready by noon and that he could meet them on the Bogdan battle ground. And now, and the sun reached its zenith he approached the trodden earth field.

    Standing there was the female orc, her usually pouty lips open and yelling at a troop of fifty orcs to form ranks.

    All of them seemed to be large, healthy and above all blooded. They carried a spear which reached just above Takarn¡¯s head in length and a smaller bone short sword for close quarters.

    He smiled when he saw them, never before had he seen a group of orcs so disciplined and well-trained, he made the right voice.

    He walked up to the she orc and realised that he didn¡¯t know her name.

    ¡°Ataman, what is your name?¡± He said gruffly.

    ¡°This one is known as Mivnev.¡± She spoke in a deep throaty voice.

    ¡°Hmmm, what can you tell me of this troop?¡± He said gesturing out to the assembled orcs.

    ¡°What do you wish to know my Bogdan?¡±

    ¡°I wish to know how fast they can travel, what gear they have, how brave are they, can the form a spear wall, will they hold when pressed, how are they in close combat, I want to know it all.¡± He said slightly perturbed.

    ¡°Well my Bogdan.¡± She went on telling him the details of his troop, they were in the mid-range of mobility, and they were currently outfitted in leather armour, spears and long knives. But where they truly shined was discipline, they formed a proper spear wall in under ten seconds, and oh was it a spear wall, no pike was out of place, all were solid. They were also skilled with their knives, and he was assured by Mivnev that their hearts were filled with nothing more than the will to serve god and orc.

    He spent the rest of the day organising his troop, handing out crests and ordering them to return here at noon tomorrow to begin training.

    He was about to run them through some basic spear drills to see how well they performed, when he heard the horns.

    A lone dull not blow across the river encampment, and it meant one thing, the battle for Khagan had begun.

 Chapter 8

    Takarn put his troop on leave for the rest of the day and ran up to Khans Hill.

    He heard footsteps behind him and wheeled around to find Mivnev following him up the winding dirt path.

    He ignored her and ran up toward the arena.

    Once there he joined the veritable sea of orcs that had crowded in to see the coronation of the next Khagan. All the good seats were taken, that wouldn¡¯t do, that wouldn¡¯t do at all.

    Takarn walked with a purpose, he wasn¡¯t some fucking pedestrian orc, he was a Bogdan He would get better seats.

    He walked right to the edge of the arena, it was a circle with a diameter of 100 metres, ringed with a roughly cut fence made of wood.

    Takarn walked directly to the fence and looked around, there. He found a group of two orcs wearing a pains wolf crest sitting o makeshift seats made of cut logs. He walked directly up to them and loomed over their sitting forms.

    ¡°You, orc, I requisition your seats in the name of Khan Kelshar.¡±

    ¡°You fucking what!¡± Said a smaller orc in a whiny voice as he jumped to his feet in outrage. His larger friend stood behind him to back him up. He turned to check if Mivnev was still on his flank, good, 2 against 2 are good odds.

    ¡°I said.¡± He said while getting in the smaller orc¡¯s face. ¡°That I¡¯m taking your fucking seats!¡± He said as he head-butted the orc in his oversized nose, he fell to the ground and Takarn jumped on his back and forced his face into the mud. He kept it there till the bubbles stopped.

    He turned to see what became of the other orc just in time to watch Mivnev slip a knife under his ribs. He died with a small surprised sigh.

    ¡°Hahaha!¡± Takarn laughed haughtily as he sat down on one of their new seats and rested his feet on the corpse of the large orc, Mivnev stood beside him and joined him in laughter. It just wouldn¡¯t do to let the Khans have all of the fun. He thought then he shut up and watched as the fight began.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    -----

    Khan Kelshar POV

    He examined the stands as he waited for the battle to begin, truth be told he didn¡¯t actually want to be Khagan, too much work. But he would make damn sure that the other Khans wanted it. If they wanted this position, they would have to bleed for it.

    He kept examining the stands until his eyes rested upon the form of Takarn and that female Ataman, standing over the corpses of two orcs.

    He chuckled to himself as he turned to the other Khans. That boy, can¡¯t go a day without causing trouble. He thought.

    The other Khans, like himself, were outfitted in their war gear, but unlike him most of theirs was leather, it pays to be the oldest Khan.

    They carried no weapons, none were allowed in the battle for Khagan, all you could take into the ring was yourself and your will.

    And he would be testing both today.

    The horn rang and Kelshar charged toward Khan Belog, spear tackling him into the mud before he had a chance to turn.

    He straddled the prone orc and rained down armoured blows upon his face. Ha, I¡¯ve been waiting to do that since I met the bastard! He broke the stocky orcs nose, and felt his cheek bones crumple beneath unrelenting steel.

    Yes! This was why I came to the kurultai! He was broken from his revelry as a pair of strong arms wrapped around his next and began to squeeze.

    Kelshar tried to reach them and pull them off but they were too far away from his arms, he struggled for another minute before his vision began to go black.

    In a fit of desperation he slammed his back into the ground repeatedly until the grip relented, he rolled over onto the ground to catch his breath before he saw an armoured boot heading for his face. It impacted with a heavy blow and the last thing Kelshar saw before he entered unconsciousness was the prone form of Khan Dagorlad lying next to him.

    -----

    Takarn POV

    Takarn jumped to his feet in outrage as he watched Khan Sheera stomp Khan Kelshar into unconsciousness.

    She kicked him while he was down! That was bad form in orc culture, and as Takarn had said, bad form can get you killed.

    He walked angrily to the largest knot of people wearing Khan Sheera¡¯s wasp crest and was greeted by the sight of many Khan Kelshar warriors already harrying them.

    Takarn walked up and grabbed the nearest orc by the shirt and punched them into dream land, spraying blood and teeth over the other soldiers.

    This finally caused a verbal brawl to erupt into violence, Takarn revelled in it smashing fists and elbows into any orc bold enough to wear the wasp crest of Sheera, soon all semblance of quarrel was gone as the other clans joined the fight, for one thing was true.

    It wasn¡¯t a true Orcish kurultai without a riot.

 Chapter 9

    Takarn woke to ice cold water being poured over his sleeping form.

    He jumped to his feet as several Sheeran clan members yelped in surprise and scuttled back off to their own camp.

    Now the memories were coming back to him, he started a riot, and then afterwards drank and fucked with several members of Sheera¡¯s clan, good times.

    He smiled as he daydreamed before a punch to the ribs from Mivnev broke him from his stupor.

    ¡°Why do you wake me?!¡± He yelled at her.

    ¡°You ordered the troops back to the valley to train at noon, it is currently one hour before noon.¡± She said deadpan, seemingly unafraid of his outburst.

    He got dressed in a rush which was seemingly becoming the norm for him before eating some food that Mivnev offered and then all but ran down to the training field, just making it in time for noon.

    He walked in front of his troops who were assembled in 5 rows of 10. He examined both them and their gear, both of which seemed to be within fighting trim.

    ¡°Orcs!¡± He yelled, starting the ancient call and response battle cry of his people.

    ¡°Who are we?!¡± He started.

    ¡°The strongest!¡± They roared back.

    ¡°Who are we?!¡± He asked once more.

    ¡°The biggest!¡±

    ¡°Who are we?!¡± He yelled a final time, much louder than any other repetition so far.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°We are the orc! Orcs! Orcs!¡± They said bashing the butts of their spears against the ground with each repetition.

    Good. He thought, now, to train.

    He ran them through a series of progressively complex spear drills with Mivnev echoing his orders down the line and correcting any out of place orcs with a beating.

    This continued for about a week, his men would arrive at the field at noon and then leave long after the sun had set. They were all tired, they were all hurting, but it got results.

    In that week his spear walls got tighter and more disciplined, his troop manoeuvres smoother and quicker and the close combat skill of his troop grew to a level incomparable to what it was before.

    More weeks passed and all Takarn did was train, train and train until on his third week he felt the air temperature drop a considerable amount, winter was coming. Soon the Khans would have to choose whether or not to invade now or wait for the next season.

    Takarn was conducting close combat drills when he was approached by Khan Kelshar.

    He and his whole troop dropped to one knee in the middle of the field, Takarn had come to see the man as a mentor, and he admired him as a warrior.

    ¡°Rise young Takarn.¡± He said in his characteristic smooth voice.

    ¡°You honour me with your presence my Khan.¡± Takarn said the automated response drilled into him by his parents.

    ¡°I have not come to honour you now rise.¡± He said gesturing upward with his arms.

    ¡°If I may be so bold as to inquire my Khan, why is it you have come?¡± Said Takarn with genuine curiosity.

    ¡°I came to ask you a question son, are you and your men up to a bit of killing?¡± A vicious smile crept along Takarn¡¯s face before he replied.

    ¡°What is it you had in mind?¡± Takarn wanted this, he could already smell the blood of his enemies and hear the lamentations of their women.

    ¡°As you have probably noticed, winter approaches, and the Khagan has decided to winter here before invading in spring. But this is where the problem lies, we do not have enough food.¡±

    ¡°Now of course we could always send some of the army away but what is to say that portion would return.¡± He continued. ¡°So the Khagan has been motioning for the Khans to each choose a Bogdan and send them to raid the neighbouring kingdom of Belandier for grain.¡± He said excitedly, it would seem he was as stir crazy as everyone else. ¡°So Takarn, do you accept.¡±

    Takarn looked back to his men as they nodded furiously before looking back to his Khan with a cruel glint in his eye. ¡°When do we start?¡±

 Chapter 10

    ¡°Mummy, tell the story again please!¡± Squealed a small boy from under his down blankets.

    ¡°Yes again, please mummy!¡± Squealed an equally small and similar looking girl in the bed next to him.

    ¡°Alright, alright relent, you¡¯ve won. I¡¯ll tell you the story one more time, but is the last for tonight.¡± She said light-heartedly.

    ¡°Let me tell you the story of the Orcs of Belador.¡± She said as the candlelight of the room lit her face in a spooky fashion.

    She grabbed a small candle from the bedside table between the twins before continuing.

    ¡°In the lands of Belador lived an old king. His name is lost to the sands of time but his deeds still live on.¡±

    ¡°This king ruled over the plains of Belador, home to vast seas of wild grasses, beasts the likes of which fill the dreams of men and finally, the orcs.¡± She said animatedly causing the small children to flinch and her to chuckle. She brushed a lock of curly brown hair behind her ear before she continued.

    ¡°The orcs had been living in Belador since time began and since the first men moved into the plains there has been conflict. Now, the old king, was a bitter man, he was angry at the orcs as they had killed his two sons in an ambush so he swore.¡±

    ¡°He swore to the heavens that he would once and for all rid his kingdom of the Orcish scourge. So the old king in all his wisdom raised his banners, and called all men brave enough to join him in what would later be known as ¡®The Harrowing of the Plains¡¯ the king sent his men deep into the wilds, and hunted the orcs, fought them until they were backed against the great river Haskaroth.¡±Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°But the king did not stop there, he wanted to finish the orcs, so the king took his best men, his bravest knights and his truest shots and rode out. But what the king did not take into account was this, a cornered beast is dangerous, for a cornered beast would fight for all that it was worth. And fight they did.¡±

    ¡°On that day, from the Orcish ranks a truly evil being came to be, The Bone Crusher, The Devourer, The Blight Borne. Thuul Doom.¡± She said in a breathy voice as her children cowered further into their blankets.

    ¡°And when the king came, Thuul Doom and his army destroyed him, wiping out all semblance of human presence in the plains. But Thuul Doom did not stop there, oh no.¡±

    ¡°Thuul Doom and his hordes spread across the continent like a plague devouring anything in their wake.¡±

    ¡°But all was not lost you see.¡± She said as she brought the candle out in front of her face. ¡°Because we still had a flicker of hope.¡±

    ¡°Hope in the form of heroes, like Carlotta True Shot, Harad the Huntsman ad the Great Belan Brightfire who on this very spot slew the great Thuul Doom and sent his hordes scurrying into the plains.¡±

    ¡°Never to return.¡± The small boy finished triumphantly, happy to have stolen the ending off his mother.

    ¡°Or so you think.¡± She said. ¡°For at this very moment the orcs still hide in their plains, dreaming of times long past. They sharpen their weapons and prepare.¡±

    ¡°Prepare for what?¡± Said the small girl who was visibly terrified.

    ¡°Preparing to eat small children who won¡¯t let their mother sleep.¡± She said as she assaulted them with a barrage of cuddles.

    She held them until they fell asleep and then tiptoed back toward her bed, falling asleep.

    Little did she know that far to the north east a certain party of orcs marched toward her village, ready to prove her statement true.

 Chapter 11

    Lilliana awoke to beams of sunlight lancing their way through her incomplete thatch roof. Ugh, im going to have to get Johnathon to fix that. She thought.

    Jonathon was the town¡¯s chronicler, his job was to record histories and send and receive messages, and he was also Lillian¡¯s husband.

    She stood up and began to dress.

    Lilliana was of a slight build with pale skin and long dark brown hair.

    She dressed in a conservative dress before tying her hair into a ponytail and leaving the house.

    She stepped out the door and into the morning sun, it kissed her skin and wrapped her in a welcoming warm embrace.

    ¡°Huuh.¡± She let out a small sigh of contentment before continuing down the path.

    She lived in the town of Fallcrest, a small town on the border of the kingdom of Belandier and the plains of Belador.

    Her shoes clacked against the cobblestone path as she merged onto the main road. Walking down the street toward the town library.

    ¡°Oh Lilliana.¡± Said a plump elderly woman, her name was Mirabelle and she was the local town gossip.

    ¡°Yes Mirabelle.¡± Lilliana said while smiling sweetly, she may dislike this woman but she needed to keep up appearances, being an outsider she was already looked at with controversy, no need to add more fuel to the fire.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see Johnathon come home last night.¡± She said

    Oh that bitch, Lilliana knew where she was going with this.

    ¡°Oh you know how it is long hours spent copying texts and all that nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s all he is doing?¡± The old woman said with wry smile.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Yes I am quite sure, I¡¯m on my way to see him right now as it happens.¡± She said a little more tersely than was polite, she just couldn¡¯t help it, this woman really got on her nerves.

    ¡°Well I won¡¯t keep you, I just wanted to tell you I saw your children heading off toward the north east field with the baker¡¯s boys.¡± She said while re-entering her house.

    The baker boys were the three sons of Robert Baker and Heidi Baker, they were all friends of her son Damian, an she was quite sure that the eldest, Joshua Baker had a crush on her daughter, Lyra.

    She daydreamed for the rest of the walk how cute a couple Lyra and Joshua would make, stopping briefly to pick up some groceries at the market place before heading directly toward the library.

    The Fallcrest Library was a large wooden building, built in much the same style as a church, it was a long rectangular building with an attic room above in the shape of a steeple.

    She walked purposefully down the aisles of books before climbing the stairs toward the writing room. What she found caused a frown to form on her otherwise pretty face.

    Her husband was a thin, bookish man with a hawk nose and thick dark hair and eyebrows and he was currently slumped over his writing desk, snoring loudly. It seemed he had once again chosen to sleep with his books instead of with her.

    She moved up to the desk, sitting on it and crossing her legs, moving her dress up a bit to show slightly more leg than was proper, only after this did she wake up her husband with a poke to the cheek.

    ¡°Wakey, Wakey dear.¡± She said sweetly.

    ¡°Huh, oh Lilliana. What time is it?¡± He said while yawing.

    ¡°It is noon, you slept in the library again.¡± She said in a cross voice. He suddenly realised what had happened and his face contorted into a contrite look before speaking again.

    ¡°I am so sorry Lilliana.¡± He said while grasping her hand. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you said last time.¡± She said dejectedly while pulling her hand away.

    ¡°I mean it this time, I¡¯m finally done.¡± He said gesturing grandly toward a book as thick as his head.

    ¡°And what is it.¡± She said pointing toward the book. ¡°It better be good seeming as you have chosen it over you own wife the last few nights.¡± She said with a frown.

    ¡°Oh it is.¡± He said not noticing her mood. ¡°This is my magnum opus, the Codex Millitarium Belandier, a complete military history of our fair kingdom.¡± He spent the next 20 minutes droning on about several of the great battles of history. Lilliana knew better than to interrupt him when he got like this. She just sat and smiled while waiting for him to finish.

    ¡°Anyway darling.¡± She said after he was done. ¡°The thatch is patchy again, I need you to fix i-.¡° She never got to finish her sentence, she was cut off by the sound of bells ringing loud over the village.

    Her husband¡¯s face paled and she began to feel dread deep in her bones.

    ¡°Honey what do those bells mean?¡± She said worriedly.

    ¡°Those are alarm bells, it would seem we are under attack.¡± He said looking fearfully out to the horizon.

 Chapter 12

    ¡°My Bogdan, the troops are in position.¡± Spoke Mivnev, his second in command quietly.

    They were currently crouched low in the grain field surrounding a small town waiting for his signal before beginning the assault.

    They had spent several days walking here before scouting the town, it had a low stone wall which could be easily climbed over within a few seconds. In terms of forces they had a small garrison of guards numbering 10 in total. They also had a militia that could be called, they numbered 100 souls.

    Takarn was confident in the ability of his troop to take them in open combat, but he would take casualties for although his men were better they would still be outnumbered 2:1 so he decided against an open battle.

    Instead his troop had been slinking slowly and undetected through a field of grain as they approached the town. There had been a few close calls, especially when the stumbled across a group of children, but Takarn had solved the problem, before they could scream for help his men had bludgeoned them to death with their fists littering the field with blood and brain matter.

    But they were here now, at the edge of the field about 100 metres back from the wall, ready, poised and waiting.

    ¡°Good, send the signal.¡± He replied as Mivnev let out a light bird call and with that, all hell broke loose.

    Takarn and his men materialised from the grain at a full sprint, clearing the 100 metre distance before anyone could blink. They threw themselves at the wall climbing it with makeshift climbing spikes made of bone.

    They poked their heads over the wall before climbing up, they were standing on the ramparts when they were first seen. A boy, no older than 17 summers looked at them with disbelief, before he was impaled with a spear. But not before he was able to cry out.

    ¡°Orcs!¡±

    The rest of the guards turned toward them and sent the alarm bells, but it was already too late, they were in the city, nothing could stop them now.

    ¡°Orcs!¡± Takarn roared. ¡°Murder!¡± He said while pointing toward the town. All of the discipline he had spent months instilling disappeared in an instant as his men ran down the walls and into the town howling and whooping with bloodlust.

    Takarn ran down as well flanked on both sides by a small group of his most loyal followers, Mivnev among them.

    He ran through the town in search of plunder looking around he picked out the biggest building, it was rectangular, with a smaller pointed building sitting atop it like a hat, he shook his head, humans were weird.Stolen story; please report.

    He ran through the town and was met with scenes of carnage and blood. One street was filled with severed body parts.

    In the next he saw two of his orcs pinning down a small human child and as she writhed in pain they gorged themselves on her intestines.

    Takarn¡¯s mouth watered, he wanted to join but knew there were more important things to be done, Later. He told himself.

    ¡°Mivnev.¡± He yelled over the clamour that was a town being pillaged.

    ¡°Yes my Bogdan?¡± She asked questioningly.

    ¡°I wish for you to take ten of these soldiers.¡± He said gesturing toward the men around them. ¡°And secure both the granaries and the blacksmith.¡± These were the two most important parts of the town, food for the Khans, and metal for himself.

    ¡°And what of you my Bogdan?¡±

    ¡°I shall take these two men and go to the large pointy building and investigate, afterwards I shall join you.¡±

    ¡°As you command my Bogdan.¡± She said leaving, and once more Takarn thanked Hirna that he was gifted with a skilled Ataman.

    Takarn and his chosen soldiers ran up to the building and front kicked the door open. It exploded in a storm of splinters as Takarn and his soldiers entered.

    Books! He thought in outrage. I came all this way for fucking books! Rage boiled up inside him, the rage of a hunt wasted, Hirna would not be pleased at this missed opportunity. That was when Takarn heard a quiet whimper from the upper room, he smiled, a cold, cruel and terrifying smile. Maybe the hunt would still be on after all. He smiled as he walked toward the stairs.

    His men crouched low as they approached the door blocking them from entering the room, taking care to be as quiet as possible, there was no telling what may be behind that door.

    He breached the room with yet another kick and storm of splinters and was met with a slight, hawkish looking man charging him with a pen knife.

    He stabbed Takarn in the shoulder, barely managing to penetrate but still drawing blood Takarn was pissed.

    He grabbed the man¡¯s head and slammed it down as his raised his knee to meet it. What followed was a storm of blood, bone and brain showering the room and its other human occupant in gore.

    She was a shorter woman, with long curly dark hair, fir skin and a cute heart shaped face.

    She ran at him while crying, futilely slamming her fists into his chest. He backhanded her, hard. He felt her jaw break and she spun around before slumping over the table.

    He walked up to her grabbing her by the hips and tearing off her clothes, he was frustrated beyond belief, and he had a perfect stress relief right here.

    ¡°Hold her down.¡± He said to his men as they took up position on the other end of the table grabbing and pulling her arms forcing her into a bent over position.

    He ripped off the bottom part of her dress and was met with a soft perky butt. He grabbed both of her ass cheeks roughly his fingers gripping into them deeply eliciting a small cry of pain from his victim.

    He hiked up his loincloth revealing his erect and massive member, it was onyx black, just like his skin and was currently throbbing in anticipation.

    He pushed it into her anus continuing until he was balls deep causing howls of pain from the woman, her cries became muffled when one of his men shoved his own member down her throat.

    Takarn pushed his cock in and out of her ass as she quivered in pain and fear, this continued for several more minutes before he finished inside her with a growl, his claws leaving long gashes down her back. He let the other orc have a turn with her before slitting her throat and letting her bleed out on top of a thick book.

    At least today wasn¡¯t all bad. He thought as he left the library, now to find Mivnev and see what has become of the grain.

 Chapter 13

    The city blazed the colour of the setting sun, basking its revelling occupants in a hellish orange glow. People were eaten, families burnt alive, women raped. The once peaceful town was no more, all that was left were ashes.

    Takarn strolled leisurely past a crumbling building, he had worked out his frustrations and now he had all the time in the world.

    He searched the city for Mivnev for as much as he wanted to join in the raid he had already indulged himself enough, duty calls.

    He found her standing guard against two adjacent buildings, one smelt like fie and iron and the other, the other smelt of. Food!

    He picked up the pace as he approached her purposefully clacking his feet against the cobblestones as to gain her attention.

    She wheeled when she heard the noise, drawing a weapon, she sheathed when she realised who had made it.

    ¡°Takarn come quick, there is something you must see!¡± She all but squealed in excitement. Okay now he was curious, something would have to be quite delightful to elicit that noise from his stoic second in command.

    ¡°What is it?¡± He asked warily.

    ¡°Just come.¡± She said grabbing him by the hand and dragging him into the blacksmiths.

    When he entered the room he himself nearly squealed in delight.

    Metal, metal lining the walls, metal on the floors, shields, swords, axes, hammers and a whole other plethora of weapons.

    He smiled, this was more metal than any orc would usually see in their lives. The plains of Belador had little to no mines, its wealth was in its rare grasses, woods, and animal products such as ivory. But as you can imagine none of its human neighbours would sell metal to an orc.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°It gets better my Bogdan.¡± She said as she pulled him once again. Better? How can something be better than this! He thought.

    But what she showed him truly was better. It was a storeroom, filled to the brim with iron ore and ingots.

    He nearly fainted from the sight of so much metal, this would make him rich. The Khans would honour him if he managed to bring both this and the grain home. Sure the travel time would be longer but it would be worth it.

    ¡°Mivnev.¡± He said most reverently as he looked at the iron.

    ¡°Yes my Bogdan.¡± She said in a voice that he would call smug on anyone else.

    ¡°Gather the men, I want all of this and the grain ready to move by dawn.¡± He said. If I can bring this back to the camp my own crest won¡¯t be such a distant dream.

    ¡°Yes my Bogdan.¡± She said before saluting and leaving. He heard her distant yells to gather up the men but Takarn was already lost in daydreams as he watched the iron.

    -----

    Khan Kelshar POV

    Khan Kelshar paced back and forth along Khans Hill. Where the fuck is he! The Bogdans were meant to have comeback 2 days ago and all of the other Khan¡¯s had, but not Takarn.

    Khan Kelshar felt a mixture of worry, regret and rage. Worry, for the subordinate he had come to see as more of an apprentice or prot¨¦g¨¦. Regret, as he knew the most probable reason he has not returned would be that his troop was defeated in the battle. And finally rage. Rage at the weakness of his own subordinate, the fact he couldn¡¯t even conquer a small human village?!

    Khan Kelshar shook his head, he was done moping about. He would need to select a new Bogdan, one that wouldn¡¯t let him down.

    But as he prepared to leave the hills summit he saw something truly odd, is that a wagon train?

    Khan Kelshar took several men and marched up to the wagons and he was right, it was a wagon train, filled with from what he could see grain and something else.

    He approached the wagons and marching in the front of it were 2 columns of well disciplined spearmen and at their head was¡­

    ¡°Takarn.¡± He called out as he pulled him into an embrace. ¡°You¡¯re fucking late!¡±

    ¡°I know my Khan but there is a reason. Come, I will show you.¡± Takarn said while grinning from ear to ear like an idiot, but he wasn¡¯t, no, Kelshar knew there was intelligence there, cruel, cold intelligence.

    He was led to a series of three covered wagons and as Takarn lifted the covering he nearly fell on his arse.

    It was filled to the brim with iron ore.

    ¡°The one behind this has ingots and after that is pre forged goods.¡± Spoke Takarn but Kelshar just smiled.

    ¡°You know.¡± He said while clapping him on the shoulder. ¡°I never once doubted that you would succeed, now come, we must get this into camp and discuss your reward.¡±

 Chapter 14

    Takarn walked back to his troop¡¯s camp. His men, after the battle had decided to build a small encampment around Takarn¡¯s shelter.

    He was tired, it had been a long day. After returning successful from his raid he was taken to Khans Hill and honoured by the Khans, he was rewarded with 500 marks of Belador, the state currency of the orcs.

    He entered into his camp, the men had cut down several trees to build a small perimeter around their camp.

    He found Mivnev waiting in the centre, leaning against one of his men¡¯s shelters.

    ¡°Are the preparations done?¡± He asked, having given her several tasks before being whisked away to Khans Hill.

    ¡°Yes my Bogdan, all is ready.¡± She said excitedly.

    ¡°Good, let us go then.¡± He said gesturing her to take him to their destination.

    They walked quickly through the cold night air through the winding silent path ways that was the Haskaroth River at night.

    Hey walked right to the banks of the river before stopping at a building which was still lit.

    The building they had entered into was pungent with the smell of steel, fire and smoke and was lit by several dim wall torches.

    And there, at the end of the room, slumped over an ancient anvil was an old, grey skinned wrinkled old orc and from him came the rhythmic sound of pounding metal.

    ¡°Old orc.¡± Takarn said roughly in greeting.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Yes?¡± The orc grumbled as he turned a face heavy with frown lines and slick with both sweat and grime in their direction.

    ¡°Did you receive our order?¡± Said Takarn, he hid hidden a wagon full of iron ore and ingots before entering the encampment with orders for his men to retrieve it later in the day and bring it here, to the last Orcish blacksmith.

    Blacksmithing as a trade had died in the plains with the old kingdom as with no new shipments of metal to be had it had faded into irrelevance.

    This orc was a remanent of that time, as orcs could live anywhere up to 300 summers in age, although almost none lived that long thanks to the combative nature of their personalities.

    Takarn personally was 34 summers old and in his prime.

    ¡°Yes I did but I still don¡¯t understand I¡¯m supposed to full fill it without metal?¡± He said in exasperation.

    ¡°Let us take care of that.¡± Takarn said while gesturing toward several of the orcs he had hidden outside earlier.

    They walked up, carrying crates and set them down on the ground in front of the old smith, they laid down ten crates in total before leaving.

    ¡°How is this meant to help me?¡± The man said looking warily at the crates.

    Mivnev looked toward him expectantly and he nodded allowing her to go into a tirade.

    ¡°Behold common orc, the wealth of Bogdan Takarn!¡± She said with a flourish while opening one of the many crates.

    The man just stared at them dumbstruck, he looked down to the crates, and then back to Takarn and then back toward the crates.

    ¡°H-how did you get this?¡± He said finally and with much anticipation.

    ¡°We stumbled across it while on a stroll, now will you full fill the order or not?¡± Takarn said expectantly, he had already wasted too much time here, he had to leave before someone noticed.

    ¡°Ugh, let me check.¡± The man said flipping through several sheets of paper.

    ¡°You wanted me to craft 50 suits of plate armour, 50 spears and 50 long-knives correct.¡±

    ¡°That is correct, can you do it?¡±

    ¡°Of course I can do it.¡± Said the man while practically salivating at the thought of having so much metal to work on.

    ¡°Good, I will come back in three more days, I want it ready by then.¡± And with that Takarn left the old man alone as he practically launched himself onto the pile of iron.

    And as the early winter morning sun rose on the camp and the first snows began to fall, fifty armoured boots walked away from the banks, ready, waiting for the summer, waiting for the war.

 Chapter 15

    ¡°Pull!¡± Yelled a stout, red faced Ataman as several large muscular orcs laboured behind him on the length of taught hempen ropes.

    Spring had come with a vengeance, with the force of several thousands of orcs spilling over from the plains into the human kingdom of Belandier.

    They had fought several groups of resistance but all had been crushed, the long spears of the human soldiers more suited for pitched battle than hunts through the woods, and if there was something orcs did well, it was hunt.

    They had raided villages and burnt fields, but no major engagements had been fought. Well, until now.

    ¡°Pull you lazy bastard! The Khagan wants this gate down by noon!¡± Yelled the Ataman again in a deep resounding voice.

    The orcs had managed to attach ropes to the main gate and were currently in the process of pulling it down.

    They were in the area surrounding the human city of Hamar, a once great trading city back from the age when men still ruled the plains.

    ¡°My lord, my lord Ataman!¡± Yelled a smaller Orcish boy as he ran up toward the gate, in the beginning of the siege this would have been a death sentence, but now, after the humans had used all of their arrows? Their city had become a glorified can, just waiting to be prized open.

    ¡°What is it boy?!¡± Yelled the orc known as Beragor, the lead Ataman of Khan Kelshar¡¯s personal regiment.

    Beragor frowned, usually they would have the boy Lorik delivering messages but he died with a pike to the gut, not a good way to go, he died screaming.

    ¡°Khan Kelshar wishes to check that Bogdan Takarn is ready to enter the breach.¡± Said the boy, ah Takarn, the Iron Orc, The Hell Spear, The False Khan.

    Beragor hated the orc, a fucking upstart drunk on his power. Ever since he had waltzed into training with men covered head to toe in armour he was made the new vanguard for Khan Kelshar¡¯s troops, and he had let it go to his head.

    ¡°No, the bastard is absent, I¡¯ve sent several men to his camp, but all he says is ¡®I will come when needed.¡¯ What does that even mean?! I bet the craven just wants to steal all of the glory.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°But the Khan ordered him here.¡± Said the smaller orc meekly, seemingly cowed at the sudden outburst from his superior.

    ¡°Bah, go talk to him if you want, but it will be in vain, all he cares about is his fame.¡± Said Beragor in disgust.

    He watched the small orc scamper off toward Takarn¡¯s hill to try once again to convince the bastard to join the battle.

    We don¡¯t need him. Thought Beragor before turning back to the ropes.

    ¡°Pull!¡±

    -----

    Takarn POV

    Takarn leaned nonchalantly against the fence of his camp as he watched a small orc run toward him from the siege lines.

    Truth be told Takarn had every intention of joining the battle, the only reason he had left it this ate was because of the Khagan.

    That bastard had the audacity to demand my help! He said thinking back to the messenger the Khagan had sent him.

    Me, the Hell Spear, The Iron Orc, the chosen of Hirna! And he demands my help?! Takarn shook his head in outrage.

    This had all started shortly after he had revealed his men¡¯s new armour. Ever since then the Khagan had been hailing them as the vanguard of the army. At first Takarn was ecstatic, not only was he a Bogdan, but the Bogdan of the vanguard.

    Then he realised all it meant was hard fighting for little recognition. Three times their so called ¡®War master¡¯ Khagan Drenshawn snatched victory, turning the tide of the battle with a well-placed charge on the enemy¡¯s flank.

    He was hailed as a hero, but all he did was come in at the end. The only reason he could do all of this was because there, down in the mud, fighting shield to shield with the enemy was Takarn, fighting, bleeding and killing for another orcs glory.

    He watched as the small orc sprinted toward the fence before doubling over and panting.

    ¡°Lord-huff-Bogdan-huff Takarn, the frontlines need you.¡±

    Takarn looked toward the boy and then back toward his men, they were already armed and armoured and he could see several bloodthirsty grins already, these weren¡¯t soldiers, they were killers, but they were his killers.

    ¡°What do you say boys? Have we let the uppity cunt stew for long enough?¡± He asked and saw several eager nods.

    ¡°Alright then. Let¡¯s go.¡± He said while marching toward the gate.

    He picked up speed as he approached, hearing the thunderous footsteps of the men behind him.

    As he got closer to the gate he began the war chant him and the rest of his troop had developed over a season of war.

    ¡°What are we?!¡± Roared Takarn as he saw the sides of the heavy wooden gate begin to splinter.

    ¡°Hard as iron!¡± They replied recognising the chant.

    ¡°What are we?!¡± He roared again.

    ¡°Strong as rock!¡± They chorused as the rest of the infantry formed into the charge behind them.

    ¡°Who?!¡±

    ¡°The immovable!¡±

    ¡°Who?!¡±

    ¡°The indomitable!¡± They yelled as the saw they gate finally breach and swing open revealing several tightly packed ranks of humans cowering in the courtyard behind.

    ¡°Who?!¡± He said as he passed the shattered ruins of the gate, coming close enough to smell the fear of the men beyond.

    ¡°Orcs! Orcs! We are the orcs!¡± They yelled, as they thundered toward their prey, as Takarn led his men once more into the breach.

 Chapter 16

    All hell broke loose when Takarn smashed into the human line, and not for the humans.

    Takarn and his men managed to clear the gatehouse before the humans sprung their trap, the rest of the orc infantry was not so lucky.

    Takarn watched as liquid fire rained down on them from above, the gates of hell had opened and it didn¡¯t look like they would close any time soon.

    More or orcs were pushed into the fire by the momentum of their comrades, paying dearly for the fervour they had been whipped into, Takarn saw all of this before taking in his own situation with a look of horror dawning on his face.

    The portcullis was lowering, trapping them in the city.

    His orcs looked to him in varying degrees of distress. He looked to them and then to the human soldiers surrounding them in a semicircle backing them against the wall their comically long spears now looking far more dangerous.

    They began to constrict, coming closer in painfully slow increments, but as they did a voice in Takarn¡¯s head spoke once more, it had been dulled by the months of cushy military service and glory, dulled but never destroyed.

    The slow hunter is the dead hunter.

    Takarn¡¯s body moved on its own rushing toward the wall of pikes grabbing one by the shaft before he could be impaled and ran toward its wielder now safe that he was past the weapon¡¯s point.

    His men, given heart by the actions of their commander moved as well to varying degrees of success. He saw Mivnev slip under the guard of one of the soldiers but past her he saw another orc impaled through the visor on a cold, steel point.

    He rushed toward the young man behind the pike, the confidence of his scent now overtaken by fear as Takarn thundered toward him.

    He grabbed the man¡¯s arms pulling him off balance before punching down on his helmet, crushing it like a tin can.

    Mivnev beside him tried the same thing, but for once in her life she had met her match, she had found someone faster than her.

    The soldier lashed out with his shield, smashing it against her side knocking her onto the concrete, the last thing Takarn saw was her being surrounded by soldiers obscuring her from view. But from the wails he heard someone had finally found something that could make her scream.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Takarn fought like a crazed beast, smashing his way through the human lines taking wounds left and right but finally, with a final shoulder charge, an orc. His previously black skin now coloured red by his own blood broke free of the human entrapment with a roar and ran into the town.

    Takarn ran for all he was worth away from the ambush, none of his squad had made it out of the battle, he was alone, trapped. Hirna help me. He thought

    When he heard the sounds of footfalls slowly faded into nothingness behind him did he disappear into a nearby home, ripping the wooden door of it¡¯s hinges.

    The family inside screamed in terror as something from the pits of hell ripped away their door, his black skin dripping with blood, his eyes crazed and wild and his mouth set in a thin cruel line.

    Takarn silenced them in the fastest way he knew possible, he crushed their skulls with his bare hands.

    He slumped against the wall exhausted, I¡¯ll only rest my eyes for a moment. He thought. Yes, only for a moment.

    He said as the comforting blackness of unconsciousness overtook him.

    -----

    Evan Liasman POV

    Evan ran through the streets in his new leather armour. Goddammit hands stop shacking! He thought furiously as he watched his wavering hands.

    It was no use, no amount of will power could make forget that, that thing!

    Skin as black as night, yellow eyes like a predator it had torn through the man beside him, crushing his head like an egg.

    How can something like that exist?

    ¡°Boy, stop daydreaming, we have a job to do.¡± Said the grizzled veteran named Leofric.

    They had been tasked with hunting down the rogue monster that had fled into the city, the same creature that was and would for many years to come haunt Evan¡¯s nightmares.

    They ran down the cobbled streets following on the path of a monster.

    They saw what looked like the aftermath of an avalanche of splinters, a door had been ripped off its hinges and was now laying haphazardly against the opposite side of the street.

    ¡°Alright men, stay alert we don¡¯t know what condition this beast is in.¡± Spoke Leofric as they all dropped into a low crouch, approaching the building more slowly.

    What they saw when they entered made Evan immediately double over and vomit onto the floor.

    Bodies lay headless all over the room, their heads having been seemingly exploded if the sheer amount of blood, bone and brain matter that littered the room¡¯s walls was to be believed.

    And there, slumped against the wall was an onyx skinned giant, covered in scars and wounds, looking like a fiend straight from the seven hells.

    Carman, one of the four people having been assigned to this mission walked up to the beast with spear raised, preparing to plunge the weapon right into the beast sleeping face, but before he could Leofric grabbed his arm.

    ¡°The lord wants one alive.¡± He said blandly as if the scene of death didn¡¯t affect him at all.

    ¡°You must be joking.¡± Said Carman in disbelief.

    ¡°Is that insubordination soldier?¡± Said Leofric in a quiet, menacing voice.

    ¡°No sir.¡± Grumbled Carman. And that was how a squad of four soldiers found themselves carrying a hogtied orc toward a lord¡¯s hall, this was the strangest moment in Evan¡¯s life.

 Chapter 17

    Takarn awoke to find himself chained to an ornate and intricate floor. Depicted on it were scenes of battle and heroics, he marvelled at the beauty of it for several seconds before scanning his surroundings.

    He was in a long rectangular hall with incredible white marble pillars decorating its sides, at the far end of the room was a chair and sat on that chair was a truly immense man.

    He was fat, flesh rolled of him in waves and the warn spring breeze elicited a glistening sheen of sweat on his body.

    ¡°Ah, so this is the monster.¡± Said the fat man in a repulsive gurgling voice.

    ¡°Yes my lord Lodo, this is it.¡± Said a small page boy while glaring scathingly at Takarn.

    ¡°Well, he doesn¡¯t look like much does he?¡± Said the fat man questioningly.

    ¡°Well, he isn¡¯t doing much now, but we assure you he is quite formidable.¡± Said the smaller man pleadingly while holding up his hands.

    ¡°I¡¯m still not convinced.¡± Said the man frankly. ¡°Give him our brand and then send him off to the slave pits of Boranon, there we shall see what he is truly made of.¡± Said the fat man as he waved Takarn away.

    Several men then came up and stuck him with needles, he suddenly felt incredibly tired and his eyelids began to flutter closed.

    It was at this moment that Takarn noticed the heavy doors at the other end of the room begin to swing open, he couldn¡¯t see what was happening as he was faced the other way but what he heard shook him to the core.

    ¡°My lord Lodo, The knights have come! The siege is over, we are saved! The monsters are beaten.¡± Yelled an enthusiastic voice.

    Beaten?! How can the orcs have been beaten? This is inconceivable! He thought before the blackness of unconsciousness once again took him.

    -----

    ¡°Saddle up Salen.¡± Said a gruff older voice. The man Salen turned around to give a quick retort, he was Salen Relihov, knight of Belandier veteran cavalryman of the king¡¯s army.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    He turned dramatically and was met with the amused smile of knight captain Benjamin Carhov. His previously angry stance turned into one of awe as he quickly snapped to a salute, this was the knight captain, one of the greatest soldiers in the king¡¯s army.

    The older knight chuckled.

    ¡°At ease knight, now saddle up, we have a city to save.¡± Salen nodded and began to saddle his horse as fast as was conceivably possible.

    They had been ordered by the king to break the siege on Hamar, and what their forward scouts had reported was terrifying.

    Monsters, as far as the eye could see. Hamar was being sieged by the demons of the seven hells and the only hope for the city was the Knights of the White Hand, and just like Belan Brightfire they would smash the Orcish horde back to the plains.

    ¡°Knights! In formation!¡± Yelled the knight captain from atop his white warhorse.

    The city of Hamar was located on the change in terrain between the hilly kingdom of Belandier and the flat plains of Belador, as such any army coming from the side of the kingdom would have the high ground, leading into a flat plain with little cover. The perfect country for a cavalry charge.

    The knights formed a wedge formation on the top of a hilled ridge overlooking the camps of orcs and the siege of Hamar.

    ¡°Knights!¡± Yelled the knight commander from the tip of the formation.

    ¡°Down there are the legions of hell! The age old enemy of mankind, the orcs!¡± This elicited a hail of insults being thrown toward the far off Orcish horde.

    ¡°Once again they have come to our lands, once again they have come to bring fire and blood and ruin to our people. But once more will we throw them back!¡± A roar of approval was screamed from the lines of knights.

    ¡°We will make like the great Belan Brightfire and toss the hell spawn back to their plains!¡± This elicited yet another cry of bloodthirst and approval.

    ¡°We will do this for we are the knights! For we are the strongest!¡± He yelled as he gestured for the charge to begin.

    It happened slowly at first, just the quiet plodding of hooves. But god did it grow, the charge sped up from a light trot until and whole company of knights, 2000 men and horses were charging at full gallop down the plains. The ground shook with the fury of the gods and all that could be heard were thundering hooves and battle cries.

    The orcs noticed them far too late. Salen looked on in morbid amusement as they desperately tried to piece together a spear wall to halt the advance. Too little too late.

    The knights hit the Orcish flank like the smith god Moranith hits his hammer. And the world lit up in a wave of screams and death as the armoured angels tore their way through Orcish flesh.

    The horde buckled and then eventually fled, the horde was broken. The former power that was the orcs had been crippled once more. Business as usual.

    Or was it?

    For deep within the bowels of the great city of Hamar sat an orc, no a monster, and he was hungry, hungry for conquest, plunder and flesh. And all this war had done was wet his appetite.

 Chapter 18

    Talanak walked down the polished sandstone hallways of the gladiatorial pit of Boranon, he was the Slave Master of said city and as such was the highest authority when it came to the purchasing, selling and buying of slaves in and outside of the sandstone city, the city of blood and chains.

    He walked leisurely, approaching the main field, his soft cotton toga swishing around his feet as he hummed a slow and ponderous tune.

    Today he was going to the examining of the newest purchases for the fighting pits, a job which was incredibly far below one of his position, but who would tell the highest authority in Boranon what he could and could not do?

    He had decided to supervise this examination personally as he had heard reports of a very peculiar purchase.

    He stepped out of the intricately carved hallways and into a circular field of sand, the arena was approximately 200 metres in diameter and was ringed on all side by towering stands with a holding capacity of 50,000 spectators, it truly was the greatest arena in the kingdom.

    He smiled at the field as he stepped into the glaring midday sun, slowly approaching a well-dressed man clutching a whip tightly in has hand who was currently screaming at a group of scantily clad men in loin cloths.

    This man was known as the ¡®breaker¡¯ his job was to weed out any semblance of individuality or resistance in the slaves so that they could be better controlled, Talanak fondly remembered his time as a Breaker. Those were the days. He thought.

    ¡°I¡¯ll ask you again, what is your name?¡± He said menacingly to a bleeding muscular olive skinned man. The slave looked up at the Breaker and locked eyes with him.

    ¡°My name is Bulash!¡± He yelled defiantly before spitting into the eyes of the Breaker.

    Talanak watched in amusement as the tanned skinned slaver got progressively more and more outraged before exploding into a storm of whipping. By the end he had left the defiant slave as no more than a quivering mass of blood and pain on the sand.

    Talanak shook his head. That man was a promising gladiator, a shame to see him wasted like this but alas sacrifices needed to be made.

    He looked to the men who stood next to the now deceased slave. At least he has managed to instil fear into the others. He thought while looking over the remaining slaves as they gazed down at the dead man with eyes filled with disbelief and fear. Well, all but one.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    He said as his eyes looked toward a large muscular figure, seemingly unaffected by the callous murder happening so close to him. This was the reason he had come down to the field toady, this was the monster he had spent a fortune to buy and have fight in his arena.

    ¡°Breaker Lognash, how good it is to see you.¡± Slave Master Talanak spoke in a voice as dark as his soul.

    The other man turned around dramatically giving Talanak a good view of his bald head, prominent eyebrows and sharp features.

    ¡°My lord Talanak.¡± He spoke almost reverently as he dropped down to one knee. ¡°You honour this one with your presence.¡±

    ¡°Rise Lognash I have not come for you, I have come for this.¡± He said as he walked up to the black skinned orc, it stood over 6¡¯8 feet tall with blazing yellow eyes. He was muscular, with broad shoulders and arms and legs the size of tree trunks, his whole body was covered in a variety of small scars which contrasted nicely with his dark skin. He had no hair, having been shaved bald before arriving. He a strong jaw and long powerful tusks protruding from the bottom of his mouth.

    ¡°Ah yes master, a fine specimen. We procured him form the recent Orcish invasion on our fair kingdom and have decided he will entertain the people in the fighting pits.¡± The younger man spoke triumphantly suggesting that he had something to do with this turn of events.

    ¡°Very good Lognash, how about a demonstration.¡± Said Talanak while smile sweetly at the orcs passive face.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry my lord, a what?¡± Said Lognash questioningly.

    ¡°I said young Lognash that I would like to see demonstration of his fighting ability, to make sure you aren¡¯t as incompetent in buying slaves as you are in training them!¡± He said angrily while pointing at the corpse of the slave.

    ¡°Ah yes my lord, right away my lord.¡± Talanak watched satisfied as the younger man scampered away to organize the fight.

    The bout was organized quickly, it would be the orc against three different human slaves.

    Talanak clapped lightly to begin the fight and he watched as three obviously terrified human slaves charged for all they were worth toward the towering figure that was the orc. It did absolutely nothing.

    Talanak watched in amusement as the men piteously beat their fists against the barrel chest of the creature. It just watched on in casual disinterest before calmly beating them to death, in one such instance he ripped the arms from a man before clubbing him to death with them.

    Once the fight was over Talanak walked over to the large orc clapping wildly.

    ¡°Truly splendid, come what is you name slave, your real one.¡± He said enthusiastically toward the orc as the beast leaned in closer.

    He thought the orc was preparing to tell him a name, this was the last thing he ever thought.

    Takarn¡¯s gleaming white tusks and razor sharp teeth bit into the neck of his enemy severing it to the spine, leaving him as nothing more than a bleeding corpse.

    Takarn would receive 500 lashes for this, enough to kill a normal man many times over, but Takarn survived an not once did he cry out in pain, for in his brief time in captivity he had resolved himself, no longer would he stumble through life with the nebulous goal of glory guiding his way, no, now he had a goal. He would bring death to the realms of men, he would be the monster men feared.

    And by the time he was done, many more corpses would be left in his wake.

 Delay

    Hey there, very sorry to ahve to do this but i have a ancient history assignment due tomorrow and i really need to work on it, as an apology i shall write 2-3 chapters tomorrow.

    ps: This is to short so as many of you may have guessed

    I ain''t the sharpest tool in the shed

    She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb

    In the shape of an "L" on her forehead

    Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running

    Didn''t make sense not to live for fun

    Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb

    So much to do, so much to see

    So what''s wrong with taking the back streets?

    You''ll never know if you don''t go

    You''ll never shine if you don''t glow

    Hey now, you''re a rock star, get the show on, get paid

    And all that glitters is gold

    Only shooting stars break the mold

    It''s a cool place and they say it gets colder

    You''re bundled up now, wait till you get older

    But the meteor men beg to differ

    Judging by the hole in the satellite picture

    The ice we skate is getting pretty thin

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.The water''s getting warm so you might as well swim

    My world''s on fire, how about yours?

    That''s the way I like it and I never get bored

    Hey now, you''re an all-star, get your game on, go play

    Hey now, you''re a rock star, get the show on, get paid

    All that glitters is gold

    Only shooting stars break the mold

    Hey now, you''re an all-star, get your game on, go play

    Hey now, you''re a rock star, get the show, on get paid

    And all that glitters is gold

    Only shooting stars

    Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas?

    I need to get myself away from this place

    I said yep what a concept

    I could use a little fuel myself

    And we could all use a little change

    Well, the years start coming and they don''t stop coming

    Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running

    Didn''t make sense not to live for fun

    Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb

    So much to do, so much to see

    So what''s wrong with taking the back streets?

    You''ll never know if you don''t go (go!)

    You''ll never shine if you don''t glow

    Hey now, you''re an all-star, get your game on, go play

    Hey now, you''re a rock star, get the show on, get paid

    And all that glitters is gold

    Only shooting stars break the mold

    And all that glitters is gold

    Only shooting stars break the mold

 I am back baby

    Holy literal shit guys, just fuck. I have been fucking swamped with exams and assignments over the las few days and have hus been unable to write, but lucky for y''all it is the motherfucking weekend, woot woot! And tha means to things. Me hiding in my room because of my terminal lack of friends and a shit ton of writing, so as you can imagine this story will be coming back with a vengence, a vengence in the form of about 5 chapters tomorrow. Also thank you all for sticking witht the story through this lack of chapters, we managed to get to rank 68 today so yay for that and yay for all of youThe genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    DarkParadigm out.

 Chapter 19

    Boom, boom, boom.

    The heavy drums of the arena pounded high above Takarn.

    Boom, boom, boom.

    He had come to know those drums over the several days he had been trapped here. After the murder of the Slave Master and then the subsequent beating Takarn had been sentenced to solitary confinement. But today that ended, today was his debut.

    Takarn currently sat against the wall of his cell, it was small dank and cold. Made of roughhewn stone walls and had an almost constant drip coming from the roof. The floor was made of packed dirt covered in straw and had a generous amount of filth littering it, understandable as he hadn¡¯t been gifted a toilet and when an orc had to go, he had to go.

    A scrappy looking young man waked up to the bars of Takarn¡¯s cell and gestured for him to stick his arms through them.

    Takarn stood stiffly before working out all the kinks in his back, he then walked to the small opening in the cell and stuck his hands through the hole.

    Thunk.

    Takarn heard the heavy clank of shackles locking against his arms. The man slapped him on the arm, a cue to pull his arms back, the man then opened the cage and slid the heavy slave collar around Takarn¡¯s neck before attaching it to his hands and then pushing him forward toward the arena.

    It was a short walk through halls filled with blood, piss and many other substances. Neither he nor the slaver talked for its duration. There were many reasons for this, the main two being that Takarn had nothing to say and that he had killed the other two slaver assigned to him before this one.

    The man opened a heavy wooden door and led Takarn into what had affectionately been called, ¡®The Loading Bay¡¯ it was a rectangular room filled with weapons and armour and in it were 4 other gladiators.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Takarn examined the others in the room and much to his surprise, for the first time in a long time he wasn¡¯t the only non-human here. In fact, they all were.

    The world is comprised of 76% human¡¯s with the rest being inhabited by the so called, ¡®lesser races¡¯ in the room with Takarn was a centaur, a man who was half horse and half human, the centaur was currently arming himself with plate armour and a lance.

    Next was a lithe looking elf woman, she was wearing tight form fitting leather armour and had long waist length chestnut brown hair reaching down to her waist.

    Leaning against a wall was a dwarf, currently outfitted in full plate armour and carrying a war axe.

    Finally there was a dark elf female currently giving the full elf one hell of a death stare.

    Takarn took his tried and tested method of dealing with problems. He was going to ignore all of these people and focus on surviving the next few minutes, for with this many monsters in here nothing good could come.

    Takarn put on a heavy leather doublet and pants, finally covering his shame and reached out to and picked up a massive Warhammer.

    It was at about this time that the new owner of the arena, the son of the man Takarn had killed to come into the room.

    He was a slight, wily looking man, with slimy looking skin and a group of beautiful human women wearing slave collars clinging to him.

    ¡°Welcome, welcome.¡± He spoke in a devilishly mischievous voice.

    ¡°Today is a glorious day,¡± he continued. ¡°For today the king of our fair land of Belandier has come to this very arena.¡± He said finishing his statement by grabbing the behind of one of his slaves, causing her to yelp in fear and surprise. He grinned as he kept talking.

    ¡°As you may have suspected this will not be a normal event as this spectacle.¡± He said while gesturing toward the non-humans and then to the arena. ¡°This is all being done in commemoration of the failed Orcish invasion of Belandier.¡± He said while sneering at Takarn. ¡°And as such we have a very special opponent lined up for you.¡± Takarn didn¡¯t like the smile the man had when he said ¡®special¡¯ one bit, he was made even more nervous when the man looked toward the dark and regular elf before turning away and muttering, ¡°What a waste.¡±

    Nope, Takarn didn¡¯t like this at all.

    He was saved, for better or worse, from worrying further by the doors to the arena swinging open, well then, guess there is nothing more to do than find out exactly what is going on here. He thought as he adjusted his armour for the last time and stepped out into the sandy field.

 Soon my children

    lol, alright here it is. This story shal come back in about a week or so as at that time i shall be on summer break and have enough time to write like crazy. So as you can imagine the release schedule will increase immensly then, probs to about 1 or 2 chapters a day so big things, anyway i am so sorry for all the delays but as you can imagine not faling school comes before writing, i apologise for the inconvenience.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ps: This five hundred character thing is really fucking annoying, like i swear to fucking christ, it is just like agggggghhhhh!

 Chapter 20

    Sand passed softly through Takarn¡¯s toes as he stepped out into the empty arena, he was met with an assault of noise as he and the other non-humans left the loading bay, majority of it was negative.

    ¡°Dirty fucking non-human!¡± Yelled a fat grotesque man in too tight leather armour from the front row as he threw rotten fruit at Takarn.

    ¡°Fucking scum!¡± yelled another woman as she spat at them and then urged her children to do the same.

    God, Takarn was beginning to forget why he hated humans. No chance of that happening soon, he thought.

    He walked to the centre of the arena the other non-humans slowly falling into his wake, as he and his small party of companions walked to the centre the noise rose in volume until it finally reached a peak as they stopped in the middle.

    Takarn was wondering what the fuck was going on, true he had never seen a human arena fight before but he imagined they were like Orcish ones where people actually fought, not this smoke and daggers type shit.

    Takarn was spared from further waiting as a small, short, thin man with a heavy circlet of gold on his hands rose from his seat and threw his hands into the air.

    Everyone stopped talking as he moved and the silence that ensued was deafening, everyone waited on the edge of their seat with bated breath, waited for the words of their king.

    ¡°Friends, brothers, subjects.¡± He began slowly in a weak high pitched voice. ¡°We have weathered many challenges; War, famine and plague. But none so great as the non-humans.¡± He spat the words with a venom and disdain that Takarn would have thought impossible for a man of such small stature.

    ¡°For years they have plagued our lands, eaten our food, and killed our people, all under the pretence of trying to ¡®live peacefully¡¯ well I say no more!¡± He said yelling the last words.

    ¡°We shall drive the non-humans from our lands with fire and blood and steel, just like we did with the orcs, just like we will always do!¡± The crowd screamed at the last few words, baying for blood like a ravenous beast.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°So, in commemoration of this announcement, and the successful survival of our latest tribulation I am holding this.¡± He said throwing his arms out to encompass the entire arena.

    ¡°But this is not just any old arena match oh no, this is special. For today we shall have a battle between the savage non-humans. And the brave men of Belandier!¡± He sat down as he said the final words and the gates to the opposing loading bay to Takarn¡¯s began to swing open. And what Takarn saw put all of his previous misgivings about this event to right.

    From the loading bay came a full armoured regiment of Belandian infantry, fifty men all armed with heavy plate and long pikes. And if this was not enough what came next was truly just overkill for five people, for behind them walked a fucking mage.

    Mages were the elite troops of the Belandian army and all armies in general, they were beings able to harness the Bane, or life poison in all things and use it to their own gains.

    There were three types of mages in the world divided into 10 tiers the types were as follows; Enhancer mages, those that use the bane to enhance the abilities of their allies. Battle mages, those who use the bane to enhance their own abilities, turning them into whirling pools of death on a battle field. And Casters, the most terrifying kind of mage, for with enhancers one can fight their allies and win, with battle mages one can fight them and win, but how can one fight a blazing inferno that tears across your lines, how can one fight the very wind that you breath after it begins to attack you? And judging from the stars on the mages robes he was one of this very sought.

    The tiers were far more simple, as they were a simpler gauge of a mages power 1 being the weakest and 10 being the strongest. Also judging from the man¡¯s uniform he was a tier three mage, Takarn counted his blessings as he realized this, but still, he was probably fucked.

    The two forces stared at each other from across the sandy plane nobody daring to move, he heard the Centaur behind him whinny nervously as he stared at the vicious looking pikes, in truth Takarn had never liked Centaur¡¯s they ran across the plains like the owned the place and when it came to a fight they were massive cravens, running away before a punch was even thrown. Made damn good eating though.

    Once more broken form his daydreaming by the voice of the king he turned to listen to the smaller mans next few words as they just might decide his fate.

    ¡°Ladies, gentlemen, watch closely at what is about to happen as it is what shall always happen to those who stand against the kingdom.¡± He said looking at the non-humans, then turning to the soldiers he continued. ¡°Let the best man win.¡± He said smiling.

    And with that the fight began.

    The fight that would decide the rest of Takarn¡¯s life.

 Chapter 21

    As soon as the fight began Takarn heard the thundering of hooves from behind him, for a moment he thought the Centaur would be an exception to the rule of his kind and charge the soldiers before they had time to form ranks. Takarn was proven wrong.

    He turned to find the Centaur whose name he had not learnt in full flight, charging to the back of the field much to the disappointment of the crowd. They booed, they hissed and they yelled obscenities at the fleeing horse-man. It was these words that spurred the caster into action.

    It started as a shimmer of heat in the air, then within a timeframe of seconds it transcended into a full blown lance of flame, turning the hind legs of the Centaur into a burning, mangled mess. Takarn turned back to the rapidly forming soldiers as the horse-man began to scream with a guttural cry.

    Takarn turned to see a blur of motion, the soldiers had formed into a tightly packed wall of spears and had begun slow and ponderous advance toward the non-humans, but in this time the monsters had not been idle.

    The dwarf had charged toward the left flank of the human line and was hammering them with his axe. Meanwhile it seemed that the elves had put aside their differences and started to work together in the sake of survival. The full elf was currently shooting arrows at any soldier brave enough to take a stab at the heavily armoured dwarf, managing to keep the vast majority of them cowering behind their shields.

    Whereas the dark elf was doing much the same thing just to the caster, successfully harassing him, interrupting his chants and forcing him to keep moving.

    But it was a doomed strategy.

    The elves only had so many arrows and depending on who ran out first the crazy dwarf would either be impaled or roasted alive. That is, unless he can break the spear wall, and try as he might he was not able to break the wall, not alone anyway.

    Takarn charged forward roaring his defiance as he raised his immense Warhammer over his head, bringing it down hard on the shield of the nearest soldier, shattering both the shield and the man¡¯s arms. Creating an opening for the dwarf.Stolen novel; please report.

    The shorter non-human charged into the breach laughing like a mad man, fucking dwarves, he does know his axe will be useless in close quarters like that? Takarn thought while dancing out of the range of another soldier before bringing down his hammer on the man¡¯s head.

    And sure enough Takarn saw the dwarf go down to several knife wounds through the weak spots in his armour, unable to maneuverer his axe in the tight spaces he was cut down like a lamb to the slaughter.

    The gap the dwarf had made was slowly closing, if there was any time to do something, it was now. Takarn was proved right by the sound of a high pitched scream.

    He turned in time to see the dark elf running franticly as she tried to extinguish her burning body, Takarn¡¯s nostrils filled with the conflicting scents of delicious burning flesh and the horrid acrid smell of burnt hair. It seemed she ran out of arrows, and that the caster did not take kindly to her interference.

    ¡°We need to kill that mage.¡± Spoke a soft sultry voice near his ear, and as Takarn fought every instinct in his body as to not kill this woman who had so rudely invaded his personal space she began to continue.

    ¡°If we can kill the mage, the soldiers will be much easier but as it is now, there is no way we can win if he still breathes. I shall do what I can, you must punch through and end him.¡± Takarn nodded grimly, knowing that she was right.

    The elf fired off all of her remaining arrows in quick succession into the section of the human ranks still reeling from the dwarfs attack, thinning them enough for Takarn to punch through, he made it, but not unscathed.

    Takarn had charged through the lines at high speeds, taking a dagger thrust to the chest and the thigh, but charge through he did, he came out the other side battered, bruised but undoubtedly alive. The mage was in sight, he raised his Warhammer above his head, he would kill this fucker. Nothing else mattered.

    That was when it hit him. A bolt of force, hit Takarn right in the midsection with the strength of a war elephant, he felt his ribs break into dust as he rocketed back, right into the elf.

    CRUNCH!

    Takarn had slammed into her with enough force to break down a wall, let alone a small elven woman, she crumpled into a quivering mass as Takarn kept flying till he hit the wall, feeling his spine break in several different places.

    Takarn reopened his eyes, blinking out tears of pain as he saw the mage begin to raise his arm in his direction once more. Well, this is it, no! This isn¡¯t the end, I will not die here! I still have so much to do! He thought outraged, raising his arm in a feeble attempt to block the oncoming magical barrage.

    CRACK! Takarn heard a loud, resounding cracking sound, and he blacked out to the sight of cracks spider webbing across a translucent barrier that had formed from his palm.

 Chapter 22

    King Altaier bounded to his feet in disbelief as he watched the force shield fade out of existence from around the orc.

    Magic, magic?! How could an orc have magic?! He thought in a rage, no matter, he won¡¯t live long enough to become a problem.

    ¡°Guards!¡± He yelled to the soldiers on the sidelines and to the ones still in the field, ¡°kill the abomination!¡± He said pointing at the orc.

    Good. He thought, we shall see how the bastard survives this.

    -----

    Takarn POV

    Takarn¡¯s eyes fluttered open weakly in time to see several large groups of soldiers rushing toward him with swords drawn.

    He tried to move, to scream, to even wiggle his toes and was left wanting, he was paralysed not by fear, but by inescapable biology. All he could do was sit and watch as death crept toward him on armoured wings.

    He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch what happened next, it was then that he felt something inside of him. A fire burning hot and bright in his heart. A hateful angry fire, it was the bane.

    Takarn opened his eyes again, drunk on the prospect that he might not be dying today.

    He reached out to the fire, pulling it out of his body with a thought and then gathering it in his hand all in a matter of milliseconds. The control was intuitive, like he had been doing this his entire life and the fire welcomed and embraced him like an old friend.

    He shot out the gathered bane in his hand into a constant stream of fire into the largest knot of soldiers. It burnt hot enough to melt metal and soon the world was filled with the stench of burning flesh and the soft crackling of a fire, it made his mouth water.

    His back was against the far wall and as such he faced all of his attackers with no way to be flanked, good odds.

    Takarn blasted out gout upon gout of blazing hot dragon fire into his aggressors before once more reaching for the fire to find it empty. No! no, no, no this can¡¯t be, I was so close! He yelled internally.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    He fought to keep his eyes open for as long as he could but in the end it was all for naught, no one can cast spells forever.

    -----

    Rebel POV

    The boy had been training for tis his entire life, today they would hit the grand arena, today slavery would be dealt a serious blow, today he would avenge his family.

    ¡°Are you ready my brothers, for today is the moment that you have all been waiting for, today we shall end the reign of slavery in Boranon for we are the breakers of chains!¡± Spoke a young man, his name was Carafel and he was their leader.

    ¡°Breaching in 3, 2, 1, now!¡± Yelled a balding older man from the front of their party as he kicked oped the wooden door into the arena.

    ¡°Go now my brothers, for freedom!¡± Yelled Carafel as the remaining rebels surged into the arena, setting upon the disordered flank of the soldiers.

    As they entered the scene they were met with chaos, soldiers lay charred upon the ground and people in the stands clambered over one another to leave as fast as was humanly possible.

    The remaining soldiers were demoralized and wounded, the rebels made short work of them.

    Swords lanced out and soon the arena was turned into a visceral storm of blood and gore, bodies flying everywhere.

    Later when the battle was over the boy found himself walking with Carafel and one of the bands healers, a unique type of enhancer that use their powers to heal the wounds of others.

    They walked through the sandy field, healing those that needed it and taking a tally of their losses, they would need to leave soon, before the kingdoms counter attack.

    They were just about to leave when their mage, a man by the name of Hasturo nearly fell on his ass.

    ¡°What is it man.¡± Asked Carafel impatiently.

    ¡°I just felt a very powerful magical signature under that pile of bodies, at least a 4<sup>th</sup> or 5<sup>th</sup> tier mage.¡± Said the mage seemingly not even believing his own words.

    As the rebels dug away the pile of charred corpses they wet with a grisly visage. An onyx skinned orc lay there, face contorted in pain and covered in several wounds and burns but still alive, Carafel drew his sword only to be blocked by the mage.

    ¡°What are you doing Hasturo?¡± Said Carafel angrily, ¡°we must kill it, it is an orc.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? We can use this beast just imagine how much more powerful we would become with another mage at our disposal. Plus it is only a beast from the plains, I am sure I can control it.¡± Said the mage hastily trying to placate the sword wielding man.

    Carafel slowly sheathed his sword while glaring daggers at the orc before giving orders for it to be taken with them.

    ¡°You better know what you are doing Hasturo, for if this goes wrong it is on your head.¡± He said before turning and leaving with the rest of the party.

    And that was how Takarn left the arena, carried once more in the fray, once more into his destiny.

 Chapter 23

    Takarn woke once more in an unfamiliar place, his arms were shackled to his feet which were also bound in iron manacles. He looked around, he appeared to be in a tent, the walls were made of faded leather and were held aloft by a central wooden pole onto which he was bound.

    Shit, he thought as he looked around the room, how the fuck do I keep getting myself captured?

    There was no use whining about it now anyway, Takarn recalled his last few moments of consciousness, of the arena, the fire, and the invading rebels. At least he assumed they were rebels as they were dressed in a varied collection of mismatched armour and weapons. Takarn believed they were the ones who had kidnapped him as his current station looked nothing like the kingdom''s holding cells.

    Still, what to do? He already knew that he was not going to stay locked up, but what would he do after that, assuming he did manage to break out, he thought as he stared grimly at the thickly made iron manacles.

    Of course, he could always run off on his own and strike out for himself, but he knew not where he was, he could be in the middle of a desert for all he knew.

    He could always break free and then parlay democratically with the humans. Ha! He entertained the foolish idea for a second before dismissing it. Parlaying with a human?! The idea was laughable.

    Still, the problem of his location vexed him, what to do, what to do, he thought. Then a veritable lightbulb appeared over his head. The smelly humans know where we are, they have to, they were the ones who set camp here. He would kidnap one and force them to talk. He smiled viciously as he imagined how he would accomplish that feat.

    Two questions remained though. How would he break free of the shackles, and what would he do when he was free.

    This caused Takarn to think truly about his goals, sure it was all well and good to promise to yourself and the universe that you would burn it down and rule over the ashes. But following a nebulous far-off goal causes one to lose sight of the present, makes them weak and un-alert. Gets them killed, or worse, captured. Takarn shuddered as he remembered his brief stay in captivity, he would never be captured again, he was not the naive orc he was before.

    Goals needed to be set, short-term goals, things to work toward. An obvious first voice was to break the fuck out of these chains, he sat pondering his life voices for a few more moments before deciding upon a game plan.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    1. Break the fuck out of here and capture a random person to torture and learn information from.

    2. Get rich quick through banditry, and gain a band of warriors. No one man can stand against the world forever.

    3. Get both money and fame in copious quantities.

    4. Many drow bitches, many, many drow bitches.

    He smiled to himself as he finished, finally, he had something to work toward, a goal, a challenge to overcome. No longer was he a mindless follower wandering from battle to battle, now he was an orc on a mission.

    And now to tick the first item of the list. Takarn was pondering on how to break free of his chains when he heard the distinct plodding of armoured feet approaching him, it was now or never.

    He drew on the fire once more, feeling it flow from his innards along his arms and into his hands, but now instead of forcing it out, he used it to heat the metal on his hands and feet, melting the iron and freeing himself not a second too late for as soon as the iron dropped to the floor to bearded humans in chainmail hauberks arrived.

    "The fuck!" The larger of the two men cried as he saw Takarn''s unbound frame and moved to fumble with the hilt of his sword. The other sucked in a breath, preparation to yell the alarm, Takarn made sure it was the last breath he ever took.

    He lunged forward with one foot, tackling the yelling one to the ground, knocking the wind out of him, then before his partner had any time to react Takarn grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him to the ground also. What followed were a quick series of vicious punches to the throat and then an orc, dressed in rags snuck out of the tent and into the rest of the camp.

    Takarn''s luck held as he examined his new station, not only was he currently located in a temperate pine tree forest, but he was also on the edge of the camp. Still, though Takarn now faced a new problem, he couldn''t let these human live. If he did, Takarn was almost sure that they would tell someone of him and his daring escape, so how was one orc supposed to kill an entire camp of humans bar one. The answer was as simple as the problem, he would use tactics he had learned as a hunter, he would smoke them out.

    See, the funny thing was that all animals regardless of species are indoctrinated to fear fire, they can''t help it, when they see it some primal instinct tell them that it is dangerous and to run, Takarn would use this against them.

    Takarn gathered his fire and then let rip, breathing a pillar of scorching flame onto one end of the camp, before sneaking round to the other side, and just as suspected the humans began to arrive.

    The first was a young girl of about 16, she had long blonde curls that cascaded down her back and was covering her shapely figure in tight leather armour.

    Takarn caught her before she could alert anyone else, holding one hand tightly over her throat until she fell into unconsciousness. He then proceeded to breathe even more fire onto those that tried to flee the blazing camp, the look on their faces was delicious.

    It was during this that Takarn learned something important, for as he stared at the charred and screaming bodies of a mother and her two children he came to the realization that although a goal was well and good, one had to enjoy the little things in life.

    Yes, he thought as he charred the bodies of two children trying to flee the burning ruin, must enjoy the little things.

 Chapter 24

    Takarn inhaled deeply, taking in the rich forest air, it smelled of dirt, animals, and nature. But most of all, most of all it smelt of freedom. Not since his days in the orcish army had he truly been free from bondage. Now, with the boundless forest ahead of him, cold, fresh Autumn air in his lungs could he wholeheartedly say he was a free man, orc, whatever.

    He was not wandering through the forest aimlessly taking in the sites, however, although he may have wanted to. No, he was currently looking for a good place to set camp and then extract some much-needed information from his still unconscious captive.

    He walked for a few more minutes before he found an idyllic, secluded glade, bordered on three sides by the woods and then on the third by a slight stream, it was perfect.

    The grass was sweet smelling and covered with a light layer of dew, suggesting that this area had seen rain recently.

    Takarn dropped his captive unceremoniously to the ground before heading off to gather firewood and build a shelter for himself, the captive wouldn''t need one, she wasn''t going to live through tonight.

    After a few hours he sat down in his newly made lean-to shelter and began to weave the local grass into a crude basket to pass the time, a habit he had picked up in his time in the wilds, you never know when you will need a basket. He stood up after about an hour to check on his captive, still asleep. What the actual fuck, he thought angrily, how could someone possibly stay unconscious for this long, I didn''t even hit her that hard. It seemed he would indeed have a use for the previously made basket after all.

    Takarn rose to his full height from where he had been squatting down next to the captive, the action eliciting several satisfying pops from his knees.

    He went to pick up his woven basket and then filled it up with the crystal clear, fresh water of the river.

    Here comes the fun part, he thought in anticipation as he walked back from the mountain stream to his camp to find his captive woman still sleeping peacefully on the floor. This better work, he thought as he tossed the water onto her prone form.

    She rose with a start, spluttering and flailing her arms around wildly, at least she tried to, Takarn had bound her arms previously with some rope he had crafted from the glade''s grass.

    The girl looked around with frantic, terrified eyes before settling her eyes on Takarn as a look of horror and pure un-adulterated terror passed over them.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    They sat that way for several tense seconds in silence, Takarn''s piercing yellow eyes boring a hole into her very being, the silence was finally broken when the girl audibly gulped and then spoke.

    "Please don''t hurt me." She said in a near whisper, her voice quivering, forcing words out through sheer force of will. Takarn didn''t respond for a while, just stared back at her for a few moments before deciding that he had watched her squirm under his gaze for long enough, he needed answers.

    "Calm child, I will not hurt you if you answer my questions." He spoke in a deep rumbling throaty voice, it came out more croaky than Takarn would have liked, makes sense, he hadn''t spoken in a while.

    "What is it you want to know." The girl said with slightly more resolve this time, resolved fueled by the hope that she would leave this forest alive, oh what a poor misguided girl.

    "I wish to know where we are, no more," Takarn spoke as non-threateningly as he could manage, putting on a fake smile. She whimpered when she saw it, as it had the opposite effect, displaying his menacing teeth and leaving his cold, predatory gaze unchanged.

    The girl took a few minutes to compose herself after that, sobbing quietly into the soft, fragrant bosom of the earth.

    "I don''t know where we are now sir, but the camp we were at before was situated on the south side of the Thorn Woods." Her voice choked out when she spoke about the camp and her previous home, and it took her a little while before she could finish the sentence, but when she did Takarn was not disappointed.

    The Thorn Woods was located on the south-east side of the kingdom of Belandier and running parallel to them on the west side was the night road, a pre-imperial collapse highway which ran all the way from drow lands to the great northern citadels of the Norsica, or the Half-Giants as the humans called them.

    Anyway, with that crucial piece of information this girl had finally outlived her usefulness, Takarn lunged toward her taking her head in his hands intent on breaking her neck but hesitated when she cried out, eager to see what she had to say, humans were so much fun when they were terrified.

    "Please god no!" She wailed loudly and Takarn, more annoyed by this than he should have been lost his temper at her, roaring in primal rage right into her face causing her to go silent in fear before he spoke once more.

    "Please god no?! That is the best you can do?! Girl, if I have not made the situation clear to you, you are about to die here, painfully! and the best you can do to beg for your life is please god no?!" He said the last words scathingly and then waited for her reply.

    "Please, I will do anything you say." She finally said weakly.

    Takarn then looked at her not with rage, but with hunger.

    "Anything." He said provocatively. She gulped before looking Takarn in the eye and then nodded almost imperceptively. he spent the rest of the night raping the poor girl nearly non-stop before drowning her in the river at dawn, then as the sun cast its first rays over the trees Takarn set out toward the east at a good pace. It is a wonder what rape and murder can do for an orc''s morale, at this pace he would reach the night road in a matter of days.

 Chapter 25

    The wagon''s wheels bumped and clattered against the uneven surface of the disrepair Night Road. Carlough had set out three days prior from the trading port of Bulwyrch, a guard on a caravan going south to sell grain to Drow rebels in the night kingdom. Hey, elven terrorists have to eat.

    That was how he found himself sitting lazily on the roof of the middle wagon, humming a happy tune as he re-strung his new crossbow for the fifth time. Their leader was a very paranoid man and would lose his shit if their best shot didn''t have his weapon ready.

    As the wagon rolled quite heavily over another crack in the road he heard a slightly surprised yelp from within its depths, well then guess that is my cue. He thought as he climbed down from the roof and the entered the wagon through the left side''s window.

    Inside the carriage, it was dim, just like the occupants asked for, as this was the other cargo they were transporting for the rebels, for inside this carriage was the captured drow princess.

    If you saw her today you wouldn''t think royalty or prisoner for that matter. No, she looked like a normal albeit beautiful drow girl of around twenty, dressed in fine but not extravagant clothes while traveling with her family. That was what you were meant to think.

    For this girl was actually the Crown Princess of the Night Empire and the two men she was traveling with were her jailors, members of the rebellion''s army.

    Carlough slipped in through the window and was met with the sight of the girl delicately wiping the sleep from her bright white eyes. She had a beautiful heart shaped face and flawless skin, with the high cheekbones of the nobility and the dark gray skin characteristic of the drow upper class and as she pushed some wayward strands of snow-white hair behind her ear you could see their telltale elven points.

    "Ah, so the young man has returned." She said politely in a refined but soft voice, everything about her spoke of frailty, her features, her voice, but Carlough would not be fooled, he knew she was dangerous, she wouldn''t trick him no sir. The only reason he kept returning to her carriage was good business, yes customer service is important after all.

    Both of the princesses guards watched him carefully as he sat down opposite them, they were used to his presence by now, didn''t mean they had to like it.

    "Hey princess, how are you doing on this fine morning." Said Carlough enthusiastically trying to bring some levity into the situation. He hated it when she was sad, and she had the most amazing smile.

    "I am as good as one could expect of a person going to their own funeral." She said sadly, for that was the reason she was being transported, the rebels had begun to win the war, and executing her in front of the public was to be the final stroke for the drow to renounce their Queens and turn to the rebels for support. For if a ruler can''t even protect their own children, how can they protect the people?

    He looked at her smile one more time and then resolved himself to the decision he had been making this entire journey, he would break her out, run away with her, she was the love of his life and he would damned if he lost her.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Carlough was beginning to draw the dagger he kept at the small of his back when the caravan came to an abrupt stop, sending him sprawling onto the princess.

    Red as a beetroot he stood up and dusted himself off before sitting back down, that was when the screaming started.

    It was quiet at first, probably coming from the front of the wagon train, then it got louder and louder until the death screams and laments of people filled his reality.

    The guards stood up suddenly and lent out the window to see what was going on, this was his chance. He lunged forward as he drew his knife, slashing the throat of one of the guards before they could even flinch, the next was harder, as Carlough went for the man''s face with the knife he managed to get his shoulder up saving himself from certain death.

    Carlough then tackled him to the ground, smashing the drow''s head against the floor repeatedly, then, panting for breath he took their keys and freed the princess.

    "My god, Carlough what are you doing?!" She said in a panic as the man walked toward her covered in blood.

    "Freeing you my dear Altraria." He spoke with a reverence as he unlocked the door to the carriage and ushered her out behind him.

    "But why?" She said softly in disbelief.

    He turned to look her in the eyes before speaking, "because I love you." He said causing her to smile slightly, god that smile could drive a man insane.

    They began to sneak through the battlefield, the fighting was going on between the caravan guards and a party of men in mismatched armor and swords, they were unshaven and looked like crazed barbarians, throwing themselves into the fray with a viciousness Carlough had never before seen from bandits.

    They managed to get halfway to the treeline unnoticed before they were both grabbed from behind and dragged toward the front of the wagon train.

    "Let go of me you brute!" Said the princess angrily as she tried to struggle out of the man''s grasp.

    "Hu Hu Hu, Bolg gonna have fun with the grey one, yes Bolg will." Said the largest man Carlough had ever seen as he began to fondle the drow''s chest. He was then slapped over the head by the man holding Carlough.

    "Damn Bolg you lumbering fool, we have to bring them to the boss first, then we can play with them." Said the other man frustratedly, it seemed he had had the conversation many times before.

    They were carried the rest of the way in silence, right to the front of the wagon train where they threw in front of a large looming figure.

    It was an orc, the tusks were the telling feature, he stood at a height usually only reached by the Half-Giants, with bulging muscles covered by thick black skin, and he was covered nearly from head to toe in blood.

    "Boss Takarn sir, you said you wanted to talk to the prisoners, so Bolg brought them to you, Bolg do good?" Said the lumbering man in broken English as he threw them to the floor in front of the massive orc.

    "Yes, Bolg did very well." He said while looking hungrily at the drow.

    "Alright you two, I shall give you the same options that I have everyone else today, either both of you die," he said tossing a small dagger in front of them. "Or one of you take that knife, kill the other, and then join me. You choose." He said while crossing his arms and watching with disinterest at what followed.

    "You vile beast we would never kill each other, we are in love!" Spoke Carlough in defiance, they were the last words he ever spoke before choking on his own blood.

    He turned to find the princess clutching the dagger calmly in her hands, its bloodstained edge glistening pleasantly in the sunlight.

    "Well then, now that I have your attention I have a proposition to make." She said smiling viciously at the orc.

    That was all Carlough saw before his vision faded to black, the last thought he had was of her smile if he could just see it one more time this would all be worth it.

    Just.

    One.

    More.

    Time.

 Notice

    Alright, this story is dead. I would like to apologise first to all those who liked the story but yes, Warlord is gone. It is for the best probably it wasn''t well written, didn''t have enough plot or character development. Anyway, now that that is out of the way I have an announcement to make. I have started a new story on a different account. It is a dark fantasy like this one but I have tried to add a detailed plot, character development and mystery into it. It also contains gore and killing if you were wondering. Anyway if you want to read a story that is, in my opinion, better written then this was the link for it is below. I hope to see you there </img>The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    http://royalroadl.com/fiction/16368/sins-of-the-fathers-a-dungeon-story