The eyes glow in the dark like a cat’s but are far too big and far too high to be any feline I’m familiar with. They are also getting closer.

“Myran!” I yell. “Cyrus!”

Then I hear the sounds. Roar that rise above the rain and for a moment I fear they might really be cats. Like giant mutant space cats from another planet. But then lighting flashes overhead and I get a clear look.

“Orcs,” Eeyore says.

Well, that doesn’t sound good.

They charge. Growling, roaring and sneering, the dark figures charge me. Three sets of eyes. Three separate orcs. And me without a blade.

“Dauntless!” I shout.

The horse is already awake but clearly confused.

Join the club.

“Charge!” I order, pointing at the orcs.

“Sire, I –”

“Do it!” I yell.

Loyal above all else, Dauntless charges. And as he does I shine my light. Right at the orcs’ eyes I target the white light, as full as I can make it. The orcs stumble and Dauntless crashes through, knocking two of them down. The third spins at Dauntless with its battleaxe but the orc is too slow and Dauntless has already passed.

I use the confusion to get to my sword from the tent. I also shout “orc”!, “orcs!” at the top of my lungs in hopes that it will generate some bi-pedal assistance. The orcs are brutes. Taller than either man or elf and far broader. I don’t relish fighting them and even less-so fighting alone.

Cyrus arrives first and is not even dressed. He’s literally naked with his junk just swinging in the wind. I wonder if he sleeps nude at night.

I’m going to have to ask him about that sometime.

Myran comes next, largely dressed, but still missing one critical element as he seems to have forgotten his trousers.

And to be fair I’ve been known to do that even without orcs involved.

I shine my light again so my companions have a better view of our attackers. The cleric’s staff connects across an orc’s chest but the beast is so thick he keeps his feet. What we really need is one of his potions, but those seem to have been forgotten in the crisis. The elf has better luck as he draws blood with the edge of his blade. The orc roars and swings its hammer at the elf who’s shield groans under the blow.

They need my great sword.

I rush toward Myran and close my light just as I arrive, hoping the sudden darkness will confuse the enemies. But the orc deflects my blade and punches me across the back sending me and my blade spinning into the mud. Then I know for sure.

These things can see in the dark.

Dauntless tracks the glowing eyes and slams his hooves into an orc’s face. The beats wails as blood drips and its glow fades. I seize my chance and charge with my greatsword. Harnessing my strength I thrust and impale the teetering orc in the abdomen. The brute grimaces but does not fall. I feel his huge hands around my neck and am pretty damn sure he’s about to crush my windpipe. Desperately I pull my sword across his abandonmen until his hands weaken and fall away amidst a torrent of blood and guts.

Disgusting

“Help!” Cyrus shouts.

I shine my light and see a butt-naked man running around our camp like a mad man, trying to steer clear of two orcs stomping after him. The orcs are big but also clumsy and the nude wonder is dodging around them.

Myran throws his shield. Like Captain America himself he sends the circle spinning at his adversaries. It slides into the first orc’s side and sticks there. The orc belows and turns our way.

“Well, that got his attention at least,” says Myran.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Let’s go for his legs I say,” I say. “Try and cut him down to our size.”

“Good idea.”

I’m on the left and Myran is on the right. I shine my light (whish I swear is growing brighter) and I swing with my sword one-handed. The orc easily deflects it but leaves his ride side undefended. Myran cuts into the orc’s right knee, making the creature stumble sideways.

The orc swings at Myran but I stab him as he does. Then Dauntless adds his own fierce kick in to the face and the creature peels over. Myran yanks his shield from the beast’s side and slams the disk onto its neck. The orc gurgles and falls limp.

I look-up as the final orc catches Cyrus, but as the brute swings he stumbles right into Eeyore. The donkey never left his spot under the bush and now serves as an unintentional land mine. Eeyore squeals and the orc tumbles, its hand reaching out to grasp the donkey. Eeyore’s mouth opens wide showing enormous teeth that clamp down hard on the orc’s hand. The creature tries to toss Eeyore away but the donkey won’t let go.

Myran throws his shield and it lodges firmly in the orc’s back. The beast howls and reaches back, trying to rip the thing away. But the nude warrior returns!. Wheeling his staff faster than I’ve ever seen he batters the orc across the face - once, twice, three, four five, six - again and gain until beats tumble over, unconscious.

“Help me tie him up,” Cyrus calls out.

“How about getting some clothes on first?” Myran responds.

I can’t help but grin.

But Cyrus ties the orc up himself, winding our rope multiple times around both hand and feat.

Myran sighs. “What are we supposed to do with a captured orc?”

I look at Myran’s legs. “You know you’re not wearing pants, right?”

“”I’m not?” He looks down. “Well, what do you know about that? I was feeling a might chilly down there.”

Only now, with the orc secure, does Cyrus actually go to his tent to get dressed. I go to check on Eeyore. He still has orc flesh dangling from his mouth.

“Look at you,” I say, “the hero of the battle.”

The donkey spits out the orc bits. “Ugh. Tastes like sour milk.”

I grimace. “Sour milk? Are you serious?”

“Sure, try it yourself if you like.”

I sit down. “Ugh, that’s ok. I’m just impressed you could hold onto that orc hand. You must have a strong jaw.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I guess it was better than nothing.”

“Than nothing? You saved Cyrus! That orc was going to clobber him.”

“Was he? I was so scared I didn’t notice.”

I give my donkey a slap on the rump. “You can’t fool me,” I say. “I believe you’ve got some courage in there afterall.”

“Well, I was sleeping next to Dauntless so maybe some of it rubbed off on me.”

“Did I hear my name?” Dauntless asks striding-up.

“Yes,” says the donkey. “I was just saying that some of your courage must have rubbed off on me.”

I look at Dauntless. “Don’t you think Eeyore has his own courage, Dauntless.”

Dauntless tosses his mane. “I believe all creatures have courage within them, great or small. It’s just a matter of believing in yourself enough to access it.”

I ruffle Eeyore’s ears. “See. There you go. Find your courage within.”

Eeyore sigh. “I’ll see what I can do. Shouldn’t take too long. I don’t have much going on in there.”

“Wonderful.” I give the donkey another pat before joining my friends in a tent.

Myran has used the candlelight to find himself some pantaloons and Cyrus has donned some loose robes. It’s funny how the dress of the clerics and the mages are so similar even though the bodies underneath are very much not.

“I for one miss your rippling abdominals,” says Myran seriously. “No orc would dare approach such a flat stomach.”

“Hmm,” the cleric rumbles. “Tell that to the ones who were chasing me.”

“Were being the operative word I believe,” says Myran. “I like that staff slapping you did by the way. Reminds me of how my mother used to hit me as a child.”

“Yes, but maybe you should have done more than slap,” I suggest. “I‘m not sure what we’re doing with a captured orc. And I doubt we can use it as a house pet.”

“Especially since we don’t have a house,” says Myran.

Cyrus wipes rain off his bald head. “I captured him because I want to know why there are orcs here. Unless you already have an answer to that question, Myran?”

The elf frowns. “No, I don’t know anything about orcs in the mountains.”

“Neither do I,” says the cleric. “I thought all the orcs were dead, killed by the goblins long ago. Now we’ve seen no goblins and have been attacked by orcs. Something is amiss.”

That’s an understatement.

“You think the orcs killed all the goblins,” I ask.

Cyrus shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t see how that would be possible.”

I remember back to the elven checkpoint. “One of the elf guards told me there were no more merchants from this direction. Is that true?”

Cyrus looks at Myran.

The elf shrugs. “Hells if I know.”

Cyrus looks outside toward the orc.. “I bet I know someone who does.”