Chapter XI-I

Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.

While Jeb was dealing with Kobolds and his kin from the hills Morty was dealing with a different problem.

"What do you mean your going on strike!?" He yelled at his fleeing miners.

The Strike Leader turned to Morty with a glare.

"The conditions in this mine are abysmal, dangerous, and not worth the pittance you give us!" He spat at the shorter foreman.

"Its a MINE! What did you think it was gonna be like!? BUCKINGHAM PALACE!?" He spat back.

The Leader made to strike Morty, before realizing who he was.

"Your lucky your family is who they are or it'd be you that's underground!" He seethed before spitting on Morty's very expensive boots and walking away with the rest of the mine's work force.

Morty stood by as over 100 men walked off towards their vehicles.

Morty cursed and kicked at the earth before he went to his own black Denali and made his way to the family home, and no doubt his father's wrath.

-----

SMACK!!!

Morty at least had the strength to stay standing after his father smacked him after being told about the situation at the mine.

His father stood 6'2ft to Morty's 5'7 and glowered down at him like a hawk.

"You're a disappointment Mortimer." His father sneered down at him, a slight accent from when Morty's family lived in Louisiana.

"I put you in charge of the Mine like mon Père did before me so that you can learn to be something better then a fainéant!" Though he didn't shout, every word seemed to strike at Morty harder then his hand did.

"You don't work guiding the ouvriers, you sit around looking at that phone, or gallivanting off to play childish games with that bâtard consanguin!" He spits at that last bit.

Morty was born in Louisiana but they moved north just after he was born, any memory he had of it was foggy if there were any at all. He was raised here in West Virginia in culture anglaise as his grandfather said.

He didn't have an accent like his father did, though he still knew French from his grandfather's and late mother's insistence.

Now he stood as he berated him for his slothfulness, Clive for his mediocre pedigree, and Jeb's lack of one, accent getting thicker before he was just speaking in French.

"Et maintenant j'entends parler d'une grève à la mine sous votre surveillance!"

"And now I hear of a strike at the mine under your watch!"

"Père, ce n'est pas ma faute s'ils pleurnichent comme des femmes-"

"Father, it's not my fault they whine like women-"

Morty didn't finish before he was struck again and fell to the expensive wood floor.

"C'est un pauvre berger qui blâme son troupeau."

"It is a poor shepherd that blames his flock."

Morty sat up, not looking up at his father as he glowered at him.

He straightened his suit.

"I am leaving on business back in La Nouvelle Orléans and wont be back for a week. You will go back to the mine, and you will fix this Mortimer, or you can live in the Hills like a chien with your ami bâtards." His father stated before going to get ready.

Several servants watched the whole thing and would no doubt snicker and laugh at him, Morty thought.

Morty's face was hot with hate and embarrassment as he got up by himself and headed back towards the mine.

-----

As he came up to the gate he faced a line of strike workers blocking his path.

No doubt to keep replacements from taking "their" jobs, Morty thought bitterly.

They gave him little problem as he entered the work yard before the entrance to the coal mine. No matter what their complaints it was still his or at least his FAMILY'S mine.

He parked well always from the strike line and got geared up and made his way to the entrance to the mine proper.

"Worthless fucking péons!" He spat as he made his way down the tunnel to the elevator that would lead him down deeper into the mine lit by electric lamps attached to the walls and held by wooden support frames.

His father tried to modernize by getting steel supports, but his grandfather and the miners themselves refused. Some dumb superstition or other nonsense he couldn't remember the reason.

He got to one of the modern pieces in the mine, the large steel elevator could fit 10 men with ease as it brought them into the bowels of the earth.

And now it would carry Morty down.

Alone.

He stood and seethed as the elevator rumbled and rattled as it made its way down.

"Like he's one to talk! He was worse then I was if what grandfather and mother told me was true! Regular hellion was Dion Duval!"

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Morty's father was in many cases worse then Morty himself was.

Even after he had married his mother and she got pregnant with him, his father would still go out in the middle of the night to God knows where and coming back smelling like a whorehouse, booze, or both.

Even after his mother died he didn't act like he cared, it wasn't till after his grandfather got really sick that his father started acting like the Patriarch of the family.

"Hmph! Acts like grandfather is already in the ground!" Morty fumed as the elevator came to a stop at the bottom of the shaft.

There were supposed to be lights illuminating the tunnel, but the only one lit was the one on the elevator itself.

He walked over to the large light switch and flicked it.

Nothing.

He flicked it again.

Still nothing.

Morty grumbled before turning his headlamp on and making his way, alone, deeper into the tunnels that were large enough to have 4 men walk side by side.

As he went deeper, passing several branching tunnels, he looked around, headlamp being his only light in the dark, he kept an ear out for any cracks or groans in the stone.

Last thing he wanted was to be trapped down here and die alone like some rat.

skitter, scratch

Morty turned towards the sound. Like something crawling around on the stone.

He didn't see anything and resumed down, looking at the cable of the lamps on the wall to figure out why they weren't working.

He got to the end of the shaft.

Or at least where the shaft was supposed to end.

The mine was only cleared to go so far before supports were brought down to reinforce.

So then where did this extra stretch of tunnel come from, Morty thought.

He looked at the end of the lamp line and found the last lamp bashed in.

Damn miners probably did this on their way out, He thought.

"Unsafe conditions my ass! They just went further then they were supposed to!" Morty said loudly into the darkness.

skitter, skitter, scratch

Morty turned towards the new tunnel.

"Who the fucks there?!" He shouted.

"He he he!"

"Gots one!"

"Nab 'im for the Mastah!"

A multitude of voices came from the tunnel.

Morty looked on the ground and grabbed a discarded shovel.

"I don't know who's there but you better show yourself or I'll splatter your brains all over this fucking tunnel!"

"Weapons weapons!"

"'es mad hehehe!"

"Mastah will like 'im!"

The voices said.

Out of the darkness of the tunnel and into his lamps light came 6 small green things.

They barely came past Morty's waist even though they were hunched over.

They were thin, almost starved looking.

Thin greasy hair on their heads, some wore beaten or ratty hats. One even looked like it was wearing a smashed rat on its head.

They wore ragged cloths, if they can even be called that, scraps would be more apt.

Beady yellow eyes, large pointed noses and ears large enough that Morty would make a joke if they didn't look like they wanted to sell his kidneys.

Or eat them.

Even though the light from his lamp made them stay back from him for now Morty didn't want to turn his back to the goblinoid looking things.

They chuckled, Morty seeing their sharp, crooked yellow teeth, and began to backstep towards the elevator, lamp trained on the Goblins and shovel at the ready.

Then he ran into a wall.

Or at least it felt like one.

He turned and was met by a wall of flesh, he looked up past the two MASSIVE mounds of flesh on this things chest and saw something that put his own fathers height to shame.

What he saw was a thing that had thick, matted hair.

A face that looked smashed in like a pugs, small green eyes.

It smiled down at him and Morty saw a mouth large enough to eat a whole melon in one bite, and teeth that could give a tiger a run for its money.

"I like you." The She-thing rumbled at him.

She reached a three fingered hand that was large enough that her fingers almost touched when she picked him up, dropping his shovel in the process.

"Hope Master lets us play with you!" She rumbled.

Morty tried to fight back but the pressure from this THING was so much that he could barely breath let alone fight or talk.

As the Femhemoth lumbered down the tunnel the Goblins came from, said green things poking him in the neck and legs with sharp jagged nails and cackling, his lamp, still fixed to his head by a strap, allowed him to look at the Goblins and saw that they had a fur cloak on their shoulders.

Until one scratched at it and he realized it was just a big bush of hair they had on their shoulders.

He shuddered and tried to look up at the giantess that carried him with ease.

Though that amounted to little as two VERY large orbs of personality blocked his vision.

So he just looked forward, deeper down the tunnel they went.

He wasn't sure how long they carried him for before they entered a large semi-natural cave that held THOUSANDS of the little green buggers.

Torches were lit and they were all cheering and shouting as they made their way towards the other side of the cave.

As they got closer he saw what looked like the Leader of this Tribe, Clan, Posse or what ever you call a group of Goblins.

With the looks on the Goblin's faces a Murder sounded fitting.

The leader was a tower of muscle.

Sharp red eyes that looked at Morty like a hunter looks at a deer.

He sat on a throne cut from the stone of the cave and had hide as a cover.

Beside him was another giant She-thing.

The two of them that he could see were both a pale brown color.

"That's my sister, hehehe we share EVERYTHING!" The giant half-woman rumbled at him.

The Orc, Morty decided to call it, boomed down at them.

"And what has been brought before me slaves!"

The Goblins cowered before the Orc, even the she-beast that carried Morty seemed to shrink at him.

One was pushed forward by the others.

"We founds a Manling for you Mastah!" It called up to the Orc.

The Orc seemed to enjoy the Goblin's terror of him, he leaned forward.

"Beast! Release the Manling so that I might see it properly!" He called to the giant woman holding him.

She hesitated for but a second before dropping Morty onto the cavern's hard floor.

He coughed as he could finally breathe.

His helmet had come undone by the impact and rolled away, it didn't matter as the torches provided enough light for him to see.

The Orc made his way down the steps towards Morty.

As he got closer Morty realized just how fucking BIG he was.

The two giant women still had a good 2-3 feet on him but he made up for that fact in that he was RIPPED! They were a mix of fat and muscle, if he had fat on him Morty couldn't see it.

He had some kind of tribal tattoos on his body, though some of them looked like they were burnt away. He was also missing both pinky fingers Marty noticed curiously.

His head was shaved bald aside from a strip of short hair at the top.

He had tusks jutting up from his lower lip like the Orcs Morty's seen in fantasy games.

His red eyes looked over Morty like he was a trophy.

He barked out a bit of laughter.

"Its just a boy! Probably hasn't even been Blooded yet!" He laughed at Morty.

The Goblins laughed.

The She-Beasts laughed.

Morty could even hear his father laugh.

Morty never really had a temper, not like Jeb anyway, but he was at his limit today.

"You worthless fucks dare to judge me!" He barked at the mountain of muscle.

The whole cave went dead silent.

The Orc looked at Morty.

"What was that little Manling?" He said as he slowly stepped towards him.

"What, you dumb as well as ugly!? I called you a WORTHLESS FU-" Was all Morty got out before the Orc, with a bestial roar, charged Morty.

Morty, remembering his Boxing lessens from University, ducked and dodged the monster.

He ran head-long into the huge woman that had man-handled him.

The impact seemed to daze him long enough for Morty to get 3 quick Jabs on him.

Which he promptly regretted as it felt like hitting concrete.

He picked up his headlamp instead and bashed it into the Orc's face.

His head was so thick that even the dense helmet shattered against the beast.

But at least he drew blood from him, Morty thought.

The Orc staggered back a step from the impact and, wiping his blood from his nose, looked up at Morty with a mixture of murder and respect.

"You want to die like a warrior Manling, fine. You'll die like a warrior."

"But you will DIE!!!" He snarled as he charged once more at Morty.

He tried to duck and dodge again but was instead met with a thick boot to the side and he slid against the rough ground.

The cavern erupted in cheers.

Pretty sure something broke, Morty thought when he sucked in a breath.

He tried to get back his footing before he was wrapped up in the arms of the Orc.

And he squeezed.

Morty felt like he was being hugged by a steel beam.

"You tried your best Manling. That's better then most do." The Orc said strangely sadly to him. But he couldn't focus with his brain losing oxygen.

This was it, Morty Thought.

He'll miss Clive and the fact he always seemed to know everything, and that he always seemed to have a cool head.

His muscles burned.

He'll also miss Jeb, he never did apologize for the stupid game session, guess he never will.

He remembered hanging out with Clive and Jeb at Jeb's family Gathering in the hills. He remembers how they had a brawling ring that Jeb and others would enter and just beat themselves bloody.

Then something popped in Morty's mind.

Or maybe it was a bone or blood vessel.

Something Jeb said stuck in Morty's fading mind.

"Fancy fightin' doesn't mean shit if your dead, if your about to die, no one will fault you for fightin' dirty tryin' to survive."

So Morty threw all that was taught to him in Boxing and Fencing and whatever bullshit honor Uni drilled into him and threw it away.

And right between the Orc's legs.

He gave out a roar that shook the cavern and left Morty's ears ringing but loosened enough for Morty to get a breath and refocus.

Then he threw a kick at his family jewels again.

And again.

And again.

Until he let Morty go enough for him to squirm enough in the monsters steel hug.

As he let his head back to roar again Morty brought his head forward and nailed the Orc right in the throat.

His roar was cut off into strangled coughs and he finally let go of Morty.

As Morty and the Orc both gasped for air, Morty reached over to a nearby shovel that he wasn't sure was the one he had or just one the Goblins used to excavate the cave.

But he didn't care.

He picked it up and went over to the Orc.

"Motherfucker! You think you can kill me!?" Morty barked as he brought the shovel down on his head.

CLANK!

"You think you can mock ME!?"

CLANK!

CRACK!

The wooden shaft of the shovel broke, so he grabbed the shovel blade and continued.

"YOU!"

CLANK!

"WORTHLESS!"

CLANK!

"FUCK!"

SPLAT!

Morty continued to bash in the Orc's head with the shovel blade.

His rage and adrenaline driving him to keep smashing until the blade clanged against the stone floor and flew from his bloodied hands.

Breathing heavily and heart thundering Morty looked down.

And saw that all that was left of the Orc's head was a red smear and bits on the cave floor, his expensive clothes, hands, and face.

Morty looked at his hands.

He started to laugh.

A manic laugh of someone who just survived dying.

Then he started to cry.

A desperate cry of someone that came so close to meeting their maker.

Then he threw up