Paul’s POV

The air reeked of rotting meat and damp earth as Paul and Rikkard neared the ogres' camp. Flies buzzed in chaotic swarms over heaps of discarded bones, and the occasional guttural snarl or grunt echoed through the trees. Paul wrinkled his nose but kept his stride steady. Disgust was a distraction he couldn't afford.

Paul didn’t bother trying to hide his presence from the ogres. Quickly he pulled on his fire and death tethers. The ogres may hear him coming, but if they tried anything he would put the biggest one in the ground as quickly as possible.

As was usual by overconfident people the ogres were lounging about when Paul and Rikkard came into view. As Rikkard had said there were eight adults. Paul couldn’t really tell which ones were male or female.

The ogres were giant ten-foot monstrosities with giant pot bellies. They had to be at least 1,200 pounds each. They had pinkish grey skin and were completely bald. It was hard to tell any of them apart while they lounged on the ground in giant trash and refuse piles.

“Who speaks for you?” Paul yelled out, hoping the leader would be the one to actually answer.

One of the ogres, at least six inches taller than the rest stood up, “I Ogi. This Ogi’s band.”

Paul continued to walk forward and Rikkard stopped.

“I’m no match for an ogre, you’ll have to fight them without me.” Rikkard said.

Paul rolled his eyes and continued. “I am looking for a blacksmith you stole from a goblin village.”

“What?” Ogi said. “Ogi no steal. Ogi take what’s his.”

“Not this time.”

“Ogi no liar!” Ogi screamed at he started running at Paul.

Drawing fire and death mana into his throat, Paul opened his mouth and breath a jet of black flames at Ogi. Faster than what Paul would have thought possible for such a giant creature, Ogi threw himself to the left of the flame.

“Tricky, tricky little human.” Ogi said.

Paul would just have to risk Ogi getting closer before he cast his next spell. Crouching low Paul, began pulling on his air tether. It wasn’t as developed as his fire or death, but he could make it work.

As Ogi got closer Paul could hear the other ogres yelling taunts and threats at him. He ignored them as best as he could and tried to concentrate on his fight with Ogi. He also silently hoped the others wouldn’t feel the need to interfere. If they were as apt to fight as Ogi, he might have trouble with them.

When Ogi got within ten yards of Paul, he thrust his hands forward and cast a blade made of air. The giant ogre, as fast as he was, simply wasn’t ready for an invisible blade of air. The wind blade struck him in the thigh causing him to stumble.

Seizing the moment, Paul ran forward and this time aimed his black flames of death at Ogi’s face. The ogre screamed in pain and tried to block his face with his arms. When the spell finished Paul expected to have fully defeated the ogre.

To his surprise Ogi wasn’t dead. The skin on his forearms slid from his giant arms and the skin on his face was well burnt.

“Surender your troupe and I’ll kill you quickly.” Paul told the giant ogre.

“Ogi die before surrender.” Slowly Ogi rose to stand tall.

The vampire took a moment to gather more fire mana. This time without death mana in the mix, Paul shot fire from his outstretched hands. Ogi screamed as he died.

With Ogi dead, Paul looked at the rest of the troupe. “You serve me now.”

“No.” One of the ogres said. “Kress is leader now.” He kicked another of the Ogres. “Get up, Thug. Kill the human.”

‘Damn.’ Paul thought. “Then you die with Ogi!”

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Both ogres made their way to take Paul out. They weren’t completely stupid, as they stayed on either side of Paul. He needed to get them together so he could get them with a powerful enough spell to kill, or at least injure, them both.

With a speed more to Paul’s liking, Kress started to run at him. Thug kept his distance. Which Paul liked. It seemed one was more invested in winning than the other.

As Kress got closer, Paul decided to run at him in turn. He may have been human once, but now he was a vampire. With his undead state came perks all their own. Paul knew he was much faster than Kress, and in turn Thug.

With razor sharp nails an inch long Paul rand past Kress and scratch this thigh. The cuts weren’t deep enough to kill, but Kress screamed in pain. Thug stopped momentarily. Kress tried to grab Paul as he ran by, but missed by a large margin.

“Stop!” Kress cried out. “I kill you. I swear you dead.”

Using his powerful nails, Paul latched himself on Kress’s back. With his free hand he scratched massive cuts into Kress’s shoulders and the back of his neck. Kress bucked like a wild stallion, trying to dislodge Paul.

Paul was glad for Alaric’s combat training. Before becoming a vampire, Paul had practically no physical combat experience. Thanks to Alaric, he could now concentrate enough, even during combat, to pull on his tethers.

With fire mana and air mana, Paul covered his free hand in a wind and fire blade and ran his hand as far into Kress’s back as he could. He necromancer severed the ogre’s spine and pierced his heart.

“Thug surrender.” Paul heard the other ogre call out from his spot far from Paul.

“Any others?” Paul asked. None of the other ogres said or did anything. They just looked about, as if trying not to focus on Ogi or Kress’s defeats. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Your surrender, means you are mine. There is no questioning me or my orders. You will do as I say or you will die. I will kill you like I did them.”

Paul brought the full weight of his death tether and raised the two dead ogres as zombies.

“You will serve loyally in this life or the next.” Paul walked closer to the ogre troupe, who flinched at his approach. “Do you understand?”

They all eventually confirmed they understood what was expected of them.

“You will come back to my city with me so I can keep a closer eye on you.” Paul heard someone approaching form behind.

He looked back to see Rikkard walking up to him. “When did you learn the ogre’s language?”

“I have a spell that lets me speak and understand all languages.” Paul responded.

“You have a lot of magic. Sounds useful. Certainly, in the fight with them.” Rikkard eyed the undead ogres. “Now I know why so many of my kin try to learn at least a little magic.”

Not wanting to get into a long discussion with Rikkard, Paul instead looked back at the ogres. “Where is the blacksmith?”

“A what?” One of the females asked.

“The human you took from my town.” Paul responded.

“Human dead. Eaten.” Another of the females said.

“You ate my blacksmith!” Paul roared.

Rikkard stepped a little closer. “What happened?”

“They ate my blacksmith.” Paul stated to growl a little.

“He was my blacksmith.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Paul said with venom in his voice.

Rikkard was smart enough not to argue. He didn’t step back though, and maintained his distance, as a show of strength.

Paul turned back to the ogres. “I should disembowel you.” The ogres shuffled around, knowing that they were being threatened, but could actually comprehend the language enough to know what it meant. Sign a little Paul rephrased, “I will cut you open and dig the human out of your guts.”

“No!” the first female said. “We no eat human. Ogi ate human alone.”

“Not me!” One of the small ones cried in distress. “That Ogi, not me.”

Rubbing his eyes in frustration, Paul looked back at Rikkard. “Where can we get another blacksmith?”

“There are small human villages south of the Deepwood. We might find one there, if we go out raiding.” Rikkard said.

“Is that going to bring unwanted attention from Angla?” Paul asked.

Angla was the country south of the Deepwood. It was where Paul was originally from. While not a military powerhouse, they still had an army larger than Paul’s. He didn’t want to force a battle between them if it could be avoided.

“We raid the villages all the time in the winter.” Rikkard said. “Sometimes the kingdom will send troops, but they never follow into the Deepwood.”

Angla probably didn’t send troops into the woods themselves because they couldn’t afford to lose soldiers in a confrontation with ogres, hobgoblin, goblins, or whatever else called the Deepwood home. Angla had a more hostile neighbor to the south called Reinstrowd. Reinstrowd used to be a simple coastal city, but expanded quickly and aggressively.

During Paul’s life in Angla, he was a mage of Angla’s wizard tower, and would therefore have to go to war if needed. In his life he would not have been able to fight a couple of ogres. Alaric had given him true power and eternal life to become even more powerful.

“We shouldn’t let them know we have magic. So, the undead won’t go on the raid.” Paul looked at Rikkard. “You’ll take a force into Angla and get us a blacksmith.” He looked back at the ogres. “Would these idiots help?”

“Yes.” Rikkard said. “We’ll leave in three days. It will take a little to gather a small force to take with us.”

“Thug.” Paul looked up at the cowering ogre. “You will follow Rikkard to the human lands and raid them for slaves.”

“Eat what we kill?” Thug asked. The other ogres perked up at hearing the possibility of a winnable fight and food.

“Yes, sure, but only kill those Rikkard says you can.” Turning back to Rikkard Paul finally said, “Let’s go home.”