Magra the Mighty - Proud Leader of an Orcish Raiding Party (Medieval Fantasy)

Author's note: My writing generally skews towards the sillier and more lighthearted and tends to avoid darker and more violent themes. I just wanted to put that out there ahead of time so readers have an idea of what to expect.

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Magra the Mighty scowled as she surveyed her latest prize.

She was a tall, physically impressive, and highly imposing figure. At 6' 6" she towered over most of her fellow orcs, let alone those weak and scrawny humans her tribe perpetually fought against.

Her body was the epitome of physical fitness, with impressive, well-toned muscles that made it readily apparent to everyone that she was not a woman to trifle with.

She had long, flowing black hair that hung down to the middle of her shoulder blades when she let it hang free, although it was currently pulled back into a no-nonsense braid.

She wore a patchwork of furs, leather, and metal armor that she had clearly acquired from the vanquished foes of her many previous campaigns.

Warpaint adorned her face, along with the exposed parts of her arms and legs. A necklace containing various rings and other crude and frightful trophies from her conquests adorned her neck. It was all meant to intimidate, and yet one could not argue that it also served to enhance her natural beauty (many an orc both male and female had fought for her affection, yet none had ever successfully won it from her).

In essence, when the humans pictured a savage, wild, cruel, bloodthirsty orc barbarian, Magra was more-or-less what came to their imagination. Especially the ones with dirtier minds.

"Is this all of them?" Magra asked Snuzu, her second in command. The disappointment in her voice was apparent.

Snuzu shrugged and sighed. She was quite cute herself, even if she was not as tall, strong, or otherwise as physically impressive or well endowed as Magra. She did wear an eyepatch though (thanks to Magra) that gave her a certain something all her own...

The two orc women looked over the pitiful rabble in front of them.

"Are you sure?" Magra asked, as if asking that would some how change the answer.

"Yes!" Snuzu snapped.

Hostilities had been ramping up again between the orcs and the neighboring human kingdom again, especially once word got out that gold had been discovered all along the mountainous region that traditionally served as the border between the two societies.

It was as if new human towns suddenly sprung up over night, and, it wasn't long before rumors of unguarded towns and easy plunder started swirling among all the orc tribes.

So when Magra had learned the location of one of these supposed treasure troves, it didn't take her long to round up a party of 20 orcs to raid the place. The fact that all of the orcs happened to be women was just a coincidence. At least that's what Magra had repeatedly claimed whenever Snuzu complained about the lack of men in their party (hey, a girl's got needs).

"Are you challenging me?" Magra growled as she looked her irritated second right in her one good eye.

"No..." Snuzu murmured as she looked away, thoroughly cowed into submission.

"Good," Magra smugly replied as she reveled in her petty victory.

The orc woman looked back over their 'spoils'.

The rumors were partly true. They had found a weak, defenseless human village (well, more of a mining camp, really), but there were no riches to be had.

Instead, all they had found in the ironically named Village of Prosper was a group of around 30-40 men, and only men, mostly humans with a few elves, dwarves and other races too.

Magra wiped the sweat from her brow as she surveyed the prisoners. They were all standing in the village square, flanked by the other orc women of the raiding party.

It was a hot summer day, and the unforgiving midday sun was beating down on them.

All eyes were now on Magra, both orc and human (and other) alike, and none of them seemed pleased to see her.

She was going to have to come up with a plan if she wanted to save her own skin, let alone keep her position as leader of the raiding party.

Orc society is all about control and asserting dominance.

Magra needs to find a way to smooth things over with her fellow orcs over, and keep them happy.

The prisoners also outnumber the orcs, and until their spirits are broken, there's always a chance they could try to get free.

She's made up her mind, she needs to show her people she's strong and still in control, and come up with something to keep the prisoners in line.

Perhaps she needs to make an example out of one of them? But who, and how?

She looks over the gathered men. Most of them avoid eye contact with her, but there is one who is staring at her defiantly, with hatred in his eyes.

He is muscular and well-built, perhaps 6 feet tall, with brown hair.

It could be fun to break him here and now, but the defiant ones can be tricky. Things could backfire for Magra if she doesn't pull it off, but seeing the strongest among them break so publicly would also likely make the rest of them think twice about defying her and the rest of the orcs.

Magra continues to scan the crowd, spotting a particularly small man with dirty blonde hair, perhaps a mere 5'2". He is scrawny, weak, and shaking in fear. The perfect target for bullying.

Someone like him will almost certainly give Magra no trouble, but it could backfire on her if picking on him spurs some annoying do-gooder into action.

Of course, she could also pick someone else from the crowd as well...