Year 1558 MME.
THIRTEEN YEARS had passed since Gronn’gar’s birth, an orc unlike any other in Karrec Village. His diminutive stature sparked whispers and doubts among the villagers. Yet, the memory of his late mother, Astrid, a respected figure in the community, afforded him a tenuous place among his people.
Sadly, not with people around his age. To the other orc children with their robust frames and burgeoning strength, Gronn’gar was an oddity, a target for their cruel games and mocking laughter. In their games of catch, Gronn’gar often found himself replacing the ball, his slight frame tossed carelessly from hand to hand, his protests lost in gales of laughter.
However, the bullying scarcely affected Gronn’gar mentally. Instead, it simply fueled his desire for revenge even more. Recognizing his physical limitations, Gronn’gar turned to cunning and wit as his weapons of choice.
Gronn’gar’s small stature, once a source of shame, became his greatest asset. He scaled trees with ease, raining down stink bugs on unsuspecting bullies below. His nimble fingers put red hot chilis on their meals, transforming simple dinners into mouth-searing ordeals. With patience and ingenuity, he crafted elaborate snare traps, leaving his tormentors dangling helplessly, much to the amusement of the village.
Each successful prank was executed with such finesse that Gronn’gar’s involvement remained a mystery. His victims, blind to the source of their misfortunes, never suspected the small orc they so often underestimated.
As Gronn’gar’s thirteenth year arrived, tradition finally caught up with him. Selected for the hunting expedition as a coming-of-age tradition, he faced a challenge that most orcs encountered at ten. He was allowed to skip three years because his father pleaded with the village chief not to send him early. But now he had to follow the tradition.
His father disapproved of his son being chosen for the expedition because he was considered too small, weak, and lacking the physical strength needed for survival in the wild. So, he approached the village chief once more, pleading for his son not to be selected.
“Chief Ornug,” he said, “Please give my son more time for him to grow bigger. He isn’t yet ready to go.”
“Barsak – husband of the late Astrid. Did you wish to tarnish our tradition?”
“Never, Chief,” Barsak quickly replied. “But look at him. He’s not built for this!”
Gronn’gar stood silently, a frown creasing his brow. His father’s words stung, but he understood the love behind them.
Chief Ornug’s voice softened. “I understand your fear, Barsak. But tradition must endure. Have faith in your son. He carries Astrid's blood, after all.” Turning to Gronn’gar, he added, “Boy, perhaps you have words for your father?”
Gronn’gar stepped forward, his voice steady despite his size. “Father, I will be fine. Thank you for always taking care of me and pleading not to send me early – and now I’m far more than ready because of that. Please set your worries aside.”
Barsak’s eyes widened, a mix of pride and lingering fear. “I… I understand. Don’t do anything rash, okay? Listen to the adults who will accompany you.”
A mischievous glint appeared in Gronn’gar’s eye. “When have I ever been reckless, Father?”
Barsak chuckled, memories flooding back. “Only in your earliest years, my son.”
They both laughed.
Chief Ornug summoned the young orc trainees and their senior guides. As the groups were announced, Gronn’gar’s heart sank. He found himself paired with three of his most persistent bullies.
“Look what we’ve got here,” sneered Marduk, the largest of the three. “A goblin joining the hunt!”
Orgath, his eyes narrowed, spat on the ground. “Why’d we get stuck with this runt?”
“Don’t slow us down, little one,” Grengar added, his voice dripping with mockery.
Gronn’gar felt a familiar anger rising but pushed it down. He knew their words stemmed from their own fears and insecurities. Besides, the presence of their senior guides offered some protection.
One of the senior orcs, a battle-scarred veteran named Urakk, silenced the group with a growl. “Listen up, whelps. This ain’t some game. Out there, your petty squabbles mean nothing. You work together, or you die. Understood?”
The bullies’ bravado crumbled under Urakk’s fierce gaze. They mumbled a subdued, “Y-yes, sir!”
Seizing the moment, Gronn’gar approached the three. With exaggerated politeness that bordered on sarcasm, he bowed slightly. “Marduk, Orgath, Grengar, I look forward to our journey together.”
The three bullies, caught off guard by Gronn’gar’s unexpected civility and unable to detect the subtle mockery, fumbled for a response.
“Whatever,” Marduk finally grunted. “Just don’t drag us down.”
They left the village in the afternoon and took the route to the north because the monsters lurking around there were relatively weak and fit for a beginner to learn to hunt.
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Six hours had passed since leaving the village, and twilight was settling in. The group set up camp, assigning Gronn'gar and Gartan, one of the orc seniors, to the first watch.
After an hour of setting up camp, they sat by the campfire, peering out into the murky woods. Gronn’gar feels weary as the fire gradually dims. Gartan noticed Gronn’gar’s straining eyes and wobbly head as he tried so hard to stay awake.
“Oi,” Gartan called, “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in an hour.”
Gronn’gar startled. “N-no—I can still – I can still guard.” He said while forcing his eyes wide open.
“If you say so.” Gartan shrugged.
Desperate to stay awake, Gronn’gar initiated a conversation. “Gartan—sir, have you ever met—or encountered an elf or… human?”
Gartan turned his head over Gronn’gar with one eyebrow raised and stared at him briefly. “Well… actually, I did. A human. A male one.”
“What were you doing – and what was he like?”
“I was hunting, hiding in the bushes. Then I saw him. He was small… around your size but slightly taller.”
“I mean – what was he doing?”
“Swinging his sword around,” Gartan said, mimicking a swordplay motion. “Must've been training.”
“I-I see…”
The room got silent for a moment, but Gartan asked Gronn’gar, “Hey, you wanna hear a story?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“What story?”
“About humans and us. Lesser races.”
“What do you know about them?”
“This story is from the Chief.”
“Well… sure. To keep me awake, I guess.” Gronn’gar replied, seemed slightly invested.
“Okay,” Gartan cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, orc, kobold, goblin, human, equal. But one day, demons and elves came from the sky. They are so powerful. No one can take them on. Demons ruled us, while elves ruled humans.”
Gronn’gar furrowed his brow and yawned, struggling to follow, but he generally got the idea. “They come from… sky?” he asked, rubbing his weary eyes.
“Yes,” Gartan said, “The chief said so. It was a story from a thousand years ago. We used to be friends. With humans and other lesser races, too. Then war happens. And we are a threat to humans because of demons. And now, we are not equal. Even when demons go—”
He stopped mid-sentence, feeling Gronn’gar’s head slump against his shoulder. The young orc had finally succumbed to sleep.
“Hmm… oh, well,” Gartan murmured, gently draping a blanket over the small orc.
The next morning, they went on to find a hunting spot where farm animals might appear. They went on to search for a couple of hours, exploring the depth of the forest, until finally, the rustling sound of the bushes right ahead of them caught their attention, and they spotted a movement, seeing a glimpse of what seemed to be a stag’s antlers passed their field of view.
As they stepped closer slowly, they saw the stag peacefully eating away the green grass. The young orcs were ordered to observe silently as their seniors demonstrated proper hunting technique. Gartan nocked an arrow, his grip steady on the bow. With a slow, measured breath, he took aim. The arrow flew true, striking the vital spot behind the stag’s shoulder.
“Spot on,” Urakk praised, “as always. Great job, Gartan.”
Awesome! That’s Master Gartan for you.
The disciples were also awed by Gartan skill in archery, praising his skill. Then, Marduk was told to carry the dead stag on his shoulder. Since an orc is twice or could be triple the size of a human, carrying an average-sized stag was no hard task for them, and in this case, Marduk is humongous other than the others.
As the day progressed, the hunt continued. The young orcs received hands-on training with various weapons. They get to fight a bear and learn how to use a sword, hunt an alligator with a spear, and hunt a wild boar with a bow. Gronn’gar bullies make many errors during the hunt, earning harsh reprimands from their instructors. In contrast, Gronn’gar has the best impression out of his bullies since he’s very quick on his feet and handles most weapons like bow and short sword precisely. But regardless of the mistakes that were made, they’re having such fun and good times.
The second night of their expedition was dawning as the sun began to lower itself. Luck had favored them, for they had encountered many creatures but nothing that truly posed a danger. If they could hunt three or four more, their journey would conclude, and they would return to their village with bountiful spoils. They set up camp to rest and prepare for the next day. Gronn’gar and Urakk got to work organizing the camp while the remainder of their group worked on butchering the stag they had managed to capture for their evening meal.
As they worked, a sound in the distance caught Gronn’gar’s ears. At first, it was a dull sound, simply murmuring from across the forest; however, it quickly rose in both volume and pitch with every passing second.
“Do you hear that?” Gronn’gar said, being the first to hear a murmuring sound from the ground.
Urakk started to notice. “Does this…? Gronn’gar! Warn everyone else! there is going to be a stampede!”
Without thinking far, Gronn’gar dashed to the others.
“Everyone! Run from here! There’s a stampede coming our way!”
“A what?” Marduk responded, unaware of the situation. But Gartan swiftly grasped the problem and ordered the other three who were with him.
“Scram!” Gartan exclaimed.
“But what about—”
“Now!”
Everyone quickly left the campsite without doubting Gartan’s order. As time passed, the sound of a herd of animals’ hooves grew louder and louder as it got closer. They ran as fast as they could, away from the sound. They soon see the animals running wildly, rushing toward them, but thankfully, they are able to find a cover.
The butchering group was able to find a gap below a rock slope, Urakk was able to find higher ground, while Gronn’gar climbed the highest tree he could found. They checked on each other to see if they were okay a minute after the stampede.
“Guys!” Gronn’gar hollered from the tree, “Are you okay?”
We are fine! Thanks to you!
“Hold on! Lemme’ see if Urakk is okay!”
Gronn’gar jumped down the tree and dashed toward where Urakk was. He found their campsite in shambles, but right now, what is on his mind is to find out if Urakk is safe.
“Urak!” he yelled. “Where are you?”
I’m fine! Over here!
Gronn’gar turned his head and found Urak standing on high ground. “Goodness! I’m glad you’re safe!”
Urak jumped down, and they went to regroup at their now-ruined campsite. They returned to their camp and managed to retrieve some of their goods. They were left confused and wondered what was causing those animals to run.
“What was that?” Urakk said. “It’s the first time it ever happened.”
“Don’t know,” Gartan replied. “Never happened before.”
“Damn it!” Marduk fumed. “I never knew the luckiest and unluckiest days could be on the same day!”
“What can we do about it? It already happened.”
“Anyway, we need to stay on guard and stay hidden for—”
“Urakk! Behind you!” Gronn’gar chimed in.
Urak turned around just in time to see a creature lunging at him.
“AAAAGH…!” Urakk screamed in agony. “Help me!”
A giant wolf bit Urakk on his neck, strangling and suffocating him to death. Gartan jumped toward Urak, trying to help him, and unsheathed his sword. “Urak!” He yelled and swung his sword at the creature, but strangely, the sword snapped.
It shook him and left him frozen as to why his sword couldn’t hurt the wolf. Suddenly, another giant wolf appeared out of thin air and leaped toward Gartan, biting him on his stomach.
“Everyone…! Run!” he said while coughing up blood and desperately screaming to the young orcs.
The three bullies were shocked and fell silent to the ground, unable to move because of the cold fear they felt. Another wolf suddenly appeared and again, out of thin air, as if they were invisible. The wolf charged toward the young orcs, but Gronn’gar made a quick decision to grab the bow and quiver, and he shot an arrow at the charging wolf. By chance, it hit its left leg, and the charging wolf stumbled.
“Everyone, run!” Gronn’gar roared.
They got up from Gronn’gar’s call and started running along with him. While they were running, Gronn’gar looked back and saw Urakk and Gartan getting devoured brutally by those giant wolves. The horrific scene sent chills down his spine, realizing that he could be in their position if Gartan and Urakk weren’t there.
Suddenly, he saw two wolves again appearing from nowhere, chasing them at swift. They’re so fast that they catch up to them in a short time, except for Gronn’gar. Thanks to his lighter frame allowed him to outpace the other three. He looked behind briefly and screamed at their name one by one, “Marduk! Orgath! Grengar!” His eyes widened, shocked as he witnessed those enormous wolves consuming them while they cried out for their lives. Gronn’gar turned away, focusing solely on survival, his feet pounding against the forest floor.
but another giant wolf appeared again, ambushing him from his left side. He reacted, avoiding the razor-sharp wolf claw strike, but only in time to spare himself some damage. Its rough claws scraped his chest, and he faltered to the ground.
The wolf then, wheeled around for another attack, its eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. In a desperate move, Gronn'gar made an effort to reach for his bow, nocking an arrow with trembling hands. As the wolf lunged, he loosed the shaft, more prayer than aim guiding it.
By some miracle, the arrow found its mark, burying itself deep in the wolf's eye. The beast squealed in pain as it crashed to the ground. Gronn’gar quickly got up to his feet and sprinted as fast as he could, until the sound of pursuit fading behind him.
He ran for almost half an hour and used all his remaining energy to stay conscious. The day started to get darker, and the wound on his chest worsened. He started to run out of breath and doesn’t have enough energy to move a muscle anymore, let alone talk. He struck his head on a tree, gently falling to rest and thinking it was finally over, but he felt an overwhelming pressure from everything that had happened earlier.
Failed to assist his mentors, leaving them to their demise and letting his friends be the wolves’ main course. Though he wasn’t solely to blame, the unnecessary guilt he felt couldn’t be resisted, and then he cried like a child.
A rustle behind the bramble could be heard before him, and he tried to suppress his cries even though he scarcely had the energy to act clearly. He slowed his breathing and released all physical tension, but when he noticed the blood trail he had left on the floor, he realized he was screwed.
He could see an unknown transparent giant approaching him slowly. He gritted his teeth, frustrated by his own negligence, and then the transparent creature gradually revealed itself to be the giant wolf that was chasing him. Unable to move and remain motionless, he struggled to stay conscious, but it was too hard for him to keep his eyes open, and he soon passed out from exhaustion and the cold fear of death.