AN: So, I finished up to the Epilogue stage on my end, which means everyone'll be able to read two chapters a day until we get to the end. Not much else to say, other than the arc will end on Wednesday, and there'll be a separate AMA (Ask Me Anything) type post soon afterwards. Oh, and I'm trying to brainstorm the next plot, prologue, yadda, yadda, yadda.

As always, folks, thank you for reading thus far. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, don't hesitate to speak up. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

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Myself, Brutus, and about a dozen, or so, orcs and monsters left the horde to journey onwards towards New Wair. The journey would not take as long as it did towards the battlefield, so we would be able to make it home in little time. The one I had left in charge of the horde, however, was the she-bear who had been watching Silvanna since she became as she was then. My person wished them all the luck in the world upon their ventures, which caused them to become joyous over my words. No, I did not understand it back then, but would in the future.

The journey itself would last for a few turns of the sun, and in those days, I had gotten to know my subordinates better. Although I do not recall all of those that traveled with my person, those that I do, I cherish.

For instance, one of the orcs, a grizzled and muscled bound fool, would always desire to fight over the smallest of items and ideas. Such as if he did not receive a portion of food that was equal to, or greater than others about him, he would lash out against all. Though, of course, if he tried that towards myself or Brutus, he would have been laid out flat on his back. No, I do not recall his name, but he was one who eased my mind when it became still and hollow.

You are all confused by my words, I see, so allow me to explain something about the race known as Undead. We who have been, or currently are, among the unliving have a hollowed out mind. What I mean is, our minds do not hold the same chaotic thoughts as many others do. If we did, then something within each of us would come and steal it away. Thus, we are all often seen as cold and uncaring, while the truth of the matter is far different than what you may perceive.

Another example would be myself. For you see, although my race is Ageless, and my form is of a male Kitsune, I still retain the same mental state that has claimed the Undead for so long, albeit in a lesser form. I dislike the quiet and stillness this causes within my mind, hence the reason why I am often seen around children. They are quite chaotic, as many well know, and always seem to fill my mind with something akin to peace.

Yes, I still feel emotions, but since I've stepped onto the path of an Ageless, they will never be as strong as others feel. Thus, I, too, am often seen as cold and uncaring at times when pure emotion reigns supreme over the hearts of many. I do hope you understand this, as my mental state will never change, even if I were to journey down a separate path.

Ah, but you are not here to listen to my ramblings. So let us continue, as this part of the story will end soon enough.

There was another orc I had grown fond of, and can still remember something of her name, which was Simara. Yes, this one was a female, and was far more ruthless than the rest of them. As to why she was journeying with my person, well... She heard me speak on about my children, and desired to meet them. For you see, as I would learn fairly early one, female orcs are not able to produce offspring. No. Instead, the males of each clan and hold must journey out to procure other races' females for mating.

As to what these female orcs do in each clan and hold, they are often used as fodder for their arena games. Many become gladiators, and the like, because of this, or are used as something akin to a sex slave. Those who are born female, you see, oftentimes grow up to be beautiful, as this one had become.

Yes, she still had the same green skin and bulging muscles as the male counterparts, but there seemed to be a softness about their faces. Although, many do sport a pair of lower fangs that jut out from their lips, and are sometimes called "tusks", but they still retain some beauty. Ah, but there is one issue about the females of the orcs. They do not have breasts, even though their lower parts are that of a female. In its stead are a pair of hardened, leather plates that seem to grow once they reach adulthood.

These plates are not mounds, mind you, but flat, and once they enter something they call "Agu Ra'aten", which occurs around double their adulthood age, the leather plates duplicate themselves to cover their entire bodies from the neck, down. Hence the reason why many become gladiators, or are part of a great army of some sort.

As to their lower, feminine parts, these tend to disappear after aging past this stage. In some cases, many females lose their ability to urinate and defecate. When this occurs, they become a time bomb, and in most cases, it is meant to be literal. For you see, their leather plates continue to spread, even after it covers their entire body. They would then start covering their organs, veins, muscles, sinew, bone, and arteries.

However, once it settles on everything below the neck, their bodies can no longer move, as these plates begin to journey to the head and brain. Once the brain is covered, they either die, or something else occurs. Energies of the chaotic nature begins to seep into their bodies, transforming their everything into something akin to a virulent bomb. Where, if one were to become punctured by something, it would explode with enough force and magnitude  that all of New Wair would be wiped from the face of Terra.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Which is why many races tend to war against any and all groups of orcs they can find," added Brutus, whose own voice was a deathly chill around a bonfire, which looked similar to a large house, our little group began. The orcs about us nodded in unison, as they snacked on the remains of the farm we had raided early.

Our journey to this point was rather uneventful, to be honest. Sure, there were a few odd farmhouses full of now dead humans, kin, or elves, and way stations that had been hidden and well stocked with dried rations and supplies, but as I said, it was uneventful. Now, the large, burning house in front of us was an odd occurrence. Mainly because it was right in the middle of the road we passed through on our way to the battlefield, and no one remembers there being a house there.

Carefully, we approached the building. Well, I would have called it "carefully", if it weren't for the fact that the orcs were being overly loud with their movements and voices. Even to this day, their race doesn't understand the word "tact".

Anyways, as we approached, the door suddenly burst open to reveal an old, drunk human with more hair than skin shown about its body. The body of the human swayed with a green, glass bottle in one hand, and swung an odd blue handled sword in the other. It was ranting and raving about demons stealing him and his sword away, claiming to be ready to die fighting. Though, of course, it died rather quickly, but not in the way many of you believe.

Instead of our magicks, or iron weapons slaying the human, it simply stumbled forward, dropped the sword, which spun and pointed its blade towards the human just as it fell atop it. This caused the blade itself to pierce through the human's left eye socket, and exited out the back of its skull. What was more, once the human was truly dead, the sword simply vanished into a cloud of golden particles.

"What a strange blade," my voice rumbled softly, as nearly all within the group began their looting of the interior of the house, claiming what they could, before one of them accidentally set fire to it all.

"Any idea what it could have been, my Lord God?" Asked Brutus, whose skull had cocked to the right.

"I'm not sure, Brutus, but it felt familiar somehow."

*

"Why do you desire to see the children, Simara?" My voice awoke the female orc, who was currently staring at the fire with a blank gaze. Her own eyes, a pair of dark orbs, flickered between my own skull and the fire before her for a time, before turning towards my person with a great sigh.

"I want children," her own voice was a guttural bark, which suited her race quite well, "Can't have them. They run when I am near." The orc's eyes were downcast as she spoke the last bit, and kicked at a small rock in frustration.

"Do all females of your race desire children?" My skull cocked itself towards my left shoulder, as I stared at her form with great curiosity.

"No," Simara's head shook quickly, "They fight. I fight, too, but want children more." To this statement, a male laughed at her fantasy, calling her pathetic, and much harsher words. Within moments, the male was lying flat on his back, as the female continuously bludgeoned his head with her fists. Blood, the colour of an expansive ocean, spattered the ground around them, which became a small river once she crushed the other's head in with a large, human head sized rock someone had rolled near their bodies.

I will not say who pushed this rock near the pair, but I was curious as to why she killed him. She shook her blood spattered head slowly, refusing to answer, to which I simply shrugged and tossed her a small shirt. As the female orc used the shirt to remove the excess blood about her face, one of my clawed forefingers tapped against my fanged teeth. "You know," my voice rumbled slowly, shaking the earth beneath everyone's feet, "I do have many unruly children within the castle. If one or two suit your fancy, I am sure they can be persuaded to become your children."

The small shirt fell from her fingertips, as my words sank in, and Simara's eyes grew wide with hope and tears. "Yes, and they will love you, too." Her arms were stretched out, as she ran towards my body, and hugged my left leg. However, she hissed with pain, as the poison that coated my bones found their way into her body.

"Ah, we cannot have you melting before you are given a child," a deep throated chuckle permeated the air, as I intoned a very different spell, "<>."