Orcish ways

Malgor and Yara sat underneath the outcropping of a rocky island in the middle of the desert. Day had shifted into night and with it came a cold as unbearable as the heat. There was a small arching of stone that made a small cave that the two could sit in. Yara built a fire from supplies she had carried. Both the flames and their bodies were protected from the strong and now frigid desert winds.

Malgor watched Yara as she roasted a piece of the riding lizard she had hacked to pieces earlier on a stick. She remained fixated on her task and didn’t notice how much Malgor drank her up with his eyes. Her very existence was fascinating to him. She was an orc, a warrior race bred to do his bidding and born from the very essence of the land of shadows. As such, they often reflected its evils. They were strong yet grotesque, intimidating yet ugly. And most importantly, they were all men. There was no need for orc women to fight wars. And yet as he stared at this being, so clearly orcsish in nature, he found her so very beautiful. Such a thing should’ve been a contradiction and yet here it stood before him.

“You’re an orc, yes?” said Malgor.

“That can be clearly seen, can’t it?” said Yara.

“But a female orc?” said Malgor.

“That too can be clearly seen,” said Yara, “Is it not normal?”

“How can it be so?” said Malgor, “Your race is all men, is it not?”

Yara chuckled. “If that were true, we’d find it very hard to reproduce and continue as a people.”

“The orcs have no need for such things,” said Malgor, “They are born from the mud, risen fully grown.”

“What sort of nonsense is that?” said Yara, “I was born from the same thing as all other creatures: my mother’s cunt.”

“Well, you certainly have an orcish tongue,” said Malgor.

“Perhaps,” said Yara, “But you are human. You cannot truly know what is or is not orcish.”

“I am not human,” said Malgor, “And I would know what is orcish more than any. In my world, I created your race.”

“A human creating orcs?” said Yara, “That is rich. We are created by our god Yanum, just as humans were created by their god. One race cannot make another. That is for gods.”

“Or for dark lords,” said Malgor, “Which is what I am.”

“You look like a human to me,” said Yara, “Though I admit you have strength more than most humans I’ve seen. My tribe might’ve liked you, pink skin and all.”

“I may have been born with a human body, but my soul is that of a dark lord,” said Malgor, “It is the most powerful soul in my world, one that did cut swathes through the land, conquering all in sight.”

“Huh,” said Yara, “Perhaps you do know of orcish ways after all. You seem to have one’s heart. But this powerful soul of yours, were you born with that too?”

Malgor hesitated.

“No,” he said.

“Then you were born with human body and human soul?” said Yara, “What changed that then?”

Malgor sat in silence for a moment, his expression growing more sour. He simply and solemnly leaned forward.

“But what of you?” said Malgor, “I haven’t heard anything of you. What are you doing out here in the desert.”

“I have mentioned this already,” said Yara, “I am going to kill the devil queen.”

“Yes, but for what reason?” said Malgor, “Your tribe, did she kill them all? Are you the last Copperblood?”

“No,” said Yara, “The tribe lives. They were attacked by the devil queen’s forces, but the Copperbloods are strong and don’t bend easily to a horned bitch. But their attack was an insult to us, and to me. Such an insult I would not let go unresponded.”

“It would appear this is a matter that concerns the whole tribe,” said Malgor, “Why then are you alone?”

Yara paused. She looked down at the meat she was roasting and let her eyes get lost in the dance of the fire. Malgor waited expectantly for an answer. Yara pulled the meat on the stick off the fire, now fully cooked. She took a big bite out of it and faced Malgor.

“Your turn to answer questions,” said Yara, “Tell me how you lost your human soul.”

“Excuse me?” said Malgor, “Is that how you’re doing things?”

“You dodged the question before,” said Yara, “Now I’d like an answer.”

“You presume to order me?” said Malgor.

“Only fair,” said Yara, “Answer the question and then ask me one of your own.”

Malgor chuckled and sighed, looking into the fire himself. He could see why Yara stared so intently. The flames looked beautiful as they licked at the air.

“There was a dark lord before me,” said Malgor, “There were many, in fact. The one before me made me a protege of sorts. Gave me his soul upon his ****.”

“How did he die?” said Yara.

“In battle,” said Malgor, “The armies of the land united to stop his conquests. The hero of the time slew him with a sword of destiny. They act like those swords are so rare, but one pops up every age or so when the pompous cowards of the land need them most.”

“My father fell to a sword too,” said Yara, “It is a good ****. The weak let **** take them unarmed in their sleep. The strong **** **** to come for them with steel in hand.”

“Huh,” said Malgor, “That makes me feel a bit better about what happened to that particular hero.”

“What happened?” said Yara, “Did you not avenge this dark lord?”

“No,” said Malgor, “The hero died of food poisoning in the safety of a palace before I could slay him myself. After all their accomplishments you forget how fragile humans really are. You wait a century and they just die on their own. I’m glad I don’t have one of their feeble souls anymore.”

“And before that?” said Yara, “When you did have a human soul. What of then?”

Malgor met Yara’s eyes, a serious look on his face. Yara did not falter under his glare, but she felt an intensity that made her heart beat a skip faster. Before she could react, Malgor reached forward and grabbed the roasted meat right out of her hands. He brought it to his mouth and took a bite out of it himself.

“Your turn again,” said Malgor, “Why are you seeking vengeance alone?”

Yara looked down, her harsh expression smoothing over.

“When the tribe was attacked by the devil queen’s slavers, my people held strong and few were hurt,” said Yara, “My family were in the minority of those that suffered from the fight.”

“Your family?” said Malgor, “Was this where your father died?”

“No, he was dead long ago,” said Yara, “I only have my mother. Or I had her.”

“She was slain in the attack?” said Malgor.

“Far worse than that,” said Yara.

Yara stood up and turned around, staring at the rocky walls of the cave. She saw her own shadow waving across the surface surrounded by orange light. She allowed the mesmerizing image to distract her as she spoke.

“My mother was Olga, a warrior of the Copperblood tribe, and strong as all orcs should be,” said Yara, “But motherhood drew her away from the battlefield. Her arms grew weak and her thighs grew plump. Her breasts, once slathered in the blood of enemies, now filled with gentle mother’s milk. Her body, once hardened to embrace a foe with cruelty, was now softened to embrace a child with love. She was more beautiful than ever, but was no longer strong. And so when slavers attacked our tribe, she was the only one who could not defend herself. I could not save her and myself at the same time. Her weakness, her beauty, it only made her more enticing for them. She was **** and humiliated before my eyes. Then she was collared and carted off as a ****. I might’ve been taken myself were I not able to fight long enough for my tribe to come to my aid. For her, it was too late. They had dragged her long out of sight by the time I was free of enemies.”

Yara folded her arms and continued to stare at the wall. Malgor listened, completely engrossed in her tale. He took another bite of the meat before addressing her again.

“Do you seek to free your mother then?” said Malgor.

“She was weak,” said Yara, “If you are so weak that your foe is not **** to kill you, that they may take the luxury of enslaving you instead, then slavery is what you deserve. All I care about is killing the devil queen, the one who sent those men. Once she is dead, I will be rid of this insult to my family.”

Yara stood in silence for some more time, drinking in her own words. Malgor nodded and smiled, continuing to be intrigued by this orc girl.

“This devil queen seems to be quite the nuisance,” said Malgor, “Sending slavers across the desert for so long, and yet with all that power she can’t even conquer one village of orcs. Pathetic.”

Yara turned back to Malgor and smiled.

“Yes, she calls herself a queen as she feeds on the weak, and yet the smallest showing of strength sends her people running,” said Yara, “A pathetic worm like that has no reason to live. I will gladly stamp her out under my boot, showing the world her true cowardice.”

Yara walked over to Malgor and leaned over, beginning to reach her hand out for the meat in his hand.

“Your turn again,” said Yara, “What was…?”

Before she could grab the food, Malgor’s other hand came up and clasped her wrist, stopping her. She was stunned, and Malgor rose to his feet, towering over her as he did to most people. Yara looked up, meeting his eyes and softly struggling against his grip that she found to be totally inescapable.

“One moment,” said Malgor, “Something struck me just now. You just said that if one is beaten into slavery, then one deserves it.”

“Yes, but you may ask questions after I have…” said Yara.

“But I beat you, did I not?” said Malgor.

Yara froze, looking into his eyes and betraying to him her realization of apprehension.

“Circumstances differed,” said Yara, “The fight was false for we did not know we were on the same side. Besides, our battle was interrupted.”

“A fight is a fight, no matter if it starts under false pretenses,” said Malgor, “And if we weren’t interrupted what would you have done? You know as well as I do that you could not escape my grip, just as you can’t escape it now.”

Yara began fighting back more fiercely, grabbing at Malgor’s arm and attempting to pull herself out of his grasp. But Malgor kept a firm hold on her, his knuckles locking like iron into a place where Yara couldn’t possibly drag herself away. She panted from the effort and met his eyes again.

“You are strong, I admit,” said Yara, “But we have not truly finished a fight yet.”

“Then perhaps we should,” said Malgor, “Or can your orcish pride live knowing there might exist a man who could beat you with ease?”

Yara pouted at Malgor who smiled back at her.

“Fine!” said Yara, “We fight here and now! No weapons! No magic! Only raw strength!”

“Fine by me,” said Malgor.

He let go of Yara who tumbled back a bit before catching herself. She rubbed her sore arm, nursing the spot that Malgor’s fingers had tightened around. Malgor walked around Yara, encircling her like a vulture as she started unbuckling her leather gauntlets and dropping them on the ground. She also took the leather bracers off her legs and let them fall. She wanted to take off everything she considered armor, which was apparently only those. She readied a fighting stance towards Malgor clad in only her leather bra and loincloth. Malgor played along and readied a stance as well.

Yara yelled out a battlecry and charged into Malgor. As her body hit his, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gripped tightly. She then grunted as she tried to push him down, using her own weight as ****. Malgor was unmoved, his feet planted firmly on the ground like a tree. Malgor took his own arms, slammed them against Yara’s shoulders, and pushed her off of him. Her body moved easily under his **** and she stumbled backwards, losing grip on his shoulders. She caught herself and glared at Malgor who gave her a confident look, letting her know that he was expecting more from her. The look enraged Yara more who came in for another attack.

This time Yara went for a series of punches. Cocking her fists back with the aptitude of a true warrior, Yara let forth an impressive flurry of blows, each one targeted to parts of the body. Several went to Malgor’s chest, a few to his throat, and many more directly to his head. Malgor didn’t defend himself, instead wanting to see what damage could be done to him. As each impact was made, he couldn’t say that he felt nothing, but he certainly didn’t feel very hurt. His strong body was resisting almost any unarmed attack that couldn’t pierce his skin. Yara soon realized this and backed up from her onslaught, assessing what she could even do in this fight.

“Running out of options?” said Malgor, “You can draw your blade if you want. It’s only fair.”

“No!” said Yara, “We fight on equal ground or not at all! If I can’t beat you fairly, I shouldn’t even try!”

“Taking a blade to me is fair,” said Malgor, “Or do you still underestimate my power as a dark lord?”

“Shut up!” said Yara.

Yara ran up again with a strong kick to Malgor’s knee. Malgor stumbled back a tad but remained unmoved. He smiled, confident in his strength. Yara then screamed and let forth a flying knee directly into Malgor’s crotch. Malgor lurched forward slightly upon contact, but he still barely felt any pain. He merely felt insulted that she would try to attack him there. With a burst of energy, Malgor grabbed Yara by her arms and thrust her forward where her back slammed against the cave wall with a great thud. She winced and cried out in pain. Malgor quickly advanced and grabbed her arms again, lifting them over her head and pinning her against the wall with his body. Yara caught her breath and struggled to no avail. She once again found his hold unrelenting and she could not break free. She looked into his eyes, any determination she might’ve had fallen away as she realized the hopelessness of the fight.

“Break free if you can,” said Malgor, “No slavers are coming to interrupt us now. So break free of your own accord.”

“I… I can’t!” said Yara, “I simply can’t, alright?”

Yara stopped struggling, instead continuing to stare into his eyes. No longer did she have the face of a warrior, but of a **** woman pleading for mercy. Malgor looked back and saw how that face, the face of an orc, enticed him. She looked even more beautiful to him now, the firelight swaying over her green skin. He couldn’t help but push his crotch further into hers. She noticed immediately, responding with a blush and a turn of the head, averting her eyes from his.

“I have beaten you then,” said Malgor, “You are at my mercy.”

“Yes,” said Yara filled with fear.

“And would you say that I have beaten you with enough ease that I would have the luxury of enslaving you instead of killing you?” said Malgor.

“Yes,” said Yara shamefully.

“And… if I were to take you here as a woman, like they did to your mother, would you be absolutely powerless to stop it?” said Maglor.

He rubbed his crotch against her body and leaned his face into hers. Yara breathed heavily as she felt Malgor completely overpower her. She felt him press against her womanhood, which was also at his mercy. She realized how true his words were, how at that moment he could take her like a bitch and fill her body in relentless, passionate sex. She looked back at him, meeting his eyes.

“Yes,” said Yara, a hint of lust in her voice.

Malgor saw her green face begin to contort with pleasure, accepting its defeat both to him and to carnal desires. He too felt himself drawn in by his urges, activated by the strange beauty he could not have imagined until that day. With great fervor, Malgor pushed his head into Yara’s and kissed her deeply. Yara’s lips responded in kind, wrapping themselves around his own with ferocity. He continued to hold her against the wall as they made love against the light of the flames.

Suddenly, a crashing noise could be heard just outside the cave. Malgor turned to the entrance, concerned. He dropped Yara, grabbed his blade, and went to take a look. As he stood at the mouth of the cave he saw out on the dark desert landscape a great serpent slithering across the sands. Yara came up next to Malgor and sat down on the ground.

"A great sand serpent," said Yara, "Do not fear. We are not in its path."

"If we were, I would pull its jaw from its scaly head," said Malgor.

"You get pretty confident after winning one fight, eh?" said Yara.

"I've won far more than this," said Malgor, "In truth I've only ever lost a single battle in my lifetime."

"Which one was that?" said Yara.

Malgor stood silently as he watched the giant snake move across the land in a slithering pattern that sent waves of sand crashing like waves in the ocean with each movement it made. The way it glided forward was as mesmerizing as the fire. Yara looked at him expectantly, but he continued to say nothing for a long while.

"No more questions tonight," said Malgor, "I am eager to continue my search in the morning."

Malgor retired into the cave, preparing himself to go to sleep. Yara watched him, a little disappointed that the night was ending there. She decided to stay up just a bit longer, sitting down and leaning against the side of the cave as she watched the serpent disappear into the womb of the horizon. Yara felt her face. It was warm in a pleasant way that the desert heat of the day was not. She ran a hand down her body, feeling every crevice and protrusion of her body, imagining what it must've felt like for her mother to be so at the mercy of another's touch.