Krik scowled as he tried to set the house ablaze, holding his torch against the wooden walls. The wood resisted, however, and the flame did nothing more than lick at it.
“Those trees are fireproof, brother,” Soreg commented.
“Damned humans and dwarves made those things out of the surrounding trees,” Froq added. Krik sighed angrily, throwing the torch into the home. Hopefully, its insides would burn better. Those vern trees had been nothing but a nuisance to the tribe ever since they had arrived here days ago. Fortunately, they had found a couple of other trees that burned nicely to their flame, warming up their camps to the north and east. Still, Krik was annoyed.
“Why can’t that damned Blood-Irk give us Fireball runes? I bet these trees would fall to that spell’s might,” the orc muttered.
“Because we only have two left dunghead! Shaman Isshik isn’t here to give us more, so we cannot waste them like with our food!” Soreg explained. Krik felt his stomach rumble, which sounded out loudly. Froq grimaced, his bigger left eye looking around the burning town as he walked off to the western end of the place. Krik scratched at his skull, his rough fingers brushing against the rusty ax head buried there.
“Speaking of food, I am starving for meat. Are you sure we cannot eat the prisoners? That gnome we caught earlier has his flesh seared, just as I like it.” Krik drooled, his arm wiping away some of his dripping saliva.
Froq nodded in agreement. “Yes… We have only eaten bits of wolf meat and rations since arriving. Those humans we caught would be a much better alternative than what we have.”
Soreg shook his head. “No, absolutely not. Blood-Irk wants them alive. At least until we find the vault.”
“Is he even sure this is the place? I doubt Yorn would place his famous vault here,” Krik commented.
“It’s not here, stupid!” Soreg shouted back. “That vault is somewhere else. This is something else, I think. Something that he didn’t care enough to put ships on guard for invaders. Froq, how old do you think it is?” Soreg asked as he looked around the burning town. “Froq?” The orc asked once more, his hand at his spear’s shaft. Krik followed his motions, reaching for his club, which resembled a hatchet’s handle.
Both orcs walked to where they had last seen their comrade, peeking around the burning homes. Krik felt his nerves on edge as he looked for Froq, forcing his feet to move. His boots suddenly bumped against something, causing him to jump as he pulled out his club. His heart dropped at the sight of Froq’s corpse, the orc’s single eye lifeless. Half of his skull was caved in like an eggshell.
“Soreg!” He called, and the other orc rushed to him, spear drawn.
“Dead.” Soreg scowled, kicking at the body.
“No shit, stupid! I don’t care about Froq! I want to know if it was that…Thing…” Krik muttered that last part, looking around himself like he had uttered a cursed spirit’s name, their souls ready to jump from the shadows.
“What? How many times do I have to explain this to you? It is a myth! A story your birth mother told you to keep ya in check! It isn’t real!” Soreg reprimanded Krik, who decided that the best option was to keep quiet. “Besides, the Butcher mutilates its victims. This is different. Precise. Quiet...” The orc sniffed at the air, scowling. “Humane.” Soreg turned to Krik. “Must be stragglers. Ones we missed.”
“What? I thought we got all of them.”
“Do you even hear a word I’m saying?” Soreg scowled.
Before Krik could say something biting, a rock hit the side of Soreg’s head. It drew some blood but did not injure the orc. Soreg cursed loudly, turning to where the rock had come from.
Krik glimpsed someone’s cloak disappearing behind one of the intact houses, his eyes narrowing as he gestured toward the location. Soreg nodded quietly, moving to the other side of the building while Krik pursued the human from where he had last seen him. Krik held his club, the end of which was wrapped in sharp wire and custom spikes he had put on. He turned the corner of the wooden home, raising his club to end any pathetic weakling in front of him. Instead, he was met with the end of a blunt and bloody hammer, his vision going white as he fell back on his arse.
“Agh! My nose!” The orc gurgled out, blood filling his broken mouth as he felt someone—a bunch of someones—tackle him back to the ground.
“Hold him down!”
“Shut him up!”
“Haggard! A little help?”
The orc barely opened his eyes before the hammer returned, this time making the orc’s vision turn black as he lost consciousness.
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James peeked from his spot behind the unburnt building, which differed from the one Haggard and the others hid by.
“Come out, you coward!” the deformed creature shouted out, kicking over a barrel as he searched the dirt streets of the burning town. James could feel a sense of familiarity in the situation, his heart dropping as the scene changed for an instant. For a split second, the scene flashed back to the burning buildings of Yorktown. It was enough to make James wince, putting his hand on his helmet as he shut his eyes. He could hear his ragged breathing, which seemed to make it worse.
“It’s not that day again… It’s just a memory,” James murmured silently, taking several deep breaths. “Focus on the plan,” he whispered softly, slowly opening his eyes as he turned back to peek around the corner.
The orc was still walking and shouting, searching through the streets as he neared the house where James was hiding.
‘Might be a good time for someone to distract him…’ Faust pointed out.
James nodded in agreement, his hand clenched onto a decent-sized stone as he barely peeked from the corner, doing his best to stay hidden while watching the orc. He focused on another building nearby, watching how Seamus slowly appeared and peeked out from behind the building’s collapsed form. Seamus soon stepped out quickly, his arm extending as he threw his stone at the orc’s back. The projectile struck the armor, making the orc curse as he turned to where Seamus was. Edmund’s rock then hit his shoulder from another direction, making the orc fully turn his back on James.
James stepped out for a quick moment, already moving to take a stance as he stepped forward with his left foot, his right arm cocking back. He pitched the stone as if it were a softball, putting all his strength into it. The rock whizzed through the air like a rocket before it finally made contact with the brute’s face. James watched as the strike sent the orc stumbling, leaving him open as the bloodied stone fell to the dirt, along with the orc’s spear. He wasted no time sprinting to the dazed orc as he shouted.
“Get him! Now!” James tackled the orc, using his weight to take him down. Unfortunately, the orc was much more formidable, his strength outdoing James as he shook out of his dazed state. The young man cursed silently before dodging the orc’s attempted grab. James somehow managed to get behind the orc, his arms coming up under the brute’s arms. James held the orc in a terrible attempt at an underarm hold, his height barely reaching the orc’s own. Still, James kept the behemoth in his grasp.
James could see Edmund emerge from one of the buildings, broadsword in hand, as he rushed to help.
“Edmund! We need him alive!” James managed out, making sure the mercenary knew what their objective was. Edmund nodded and sheathed his sword before he moved to help subdue the struggling orc, who shouted at them incoherently. Seamus soon came out, expression anxious as he noticed the situation.
“Stay back, Seamus! We got it!” James shouted before he felt the orc try to kick at him and Edmund, shaking around as if he were a dog.
“Get the fuck off of me!” The orc growled, spittle flying out of his mouth as he shook violently. James could feel his grasp slipping, his eyes moving to look for the orc’s weapon. He spotted it, a sharp-looking spear on the ground.
“Seamus! The spear!” James shouted, knowing the orc would go for the weapon once he broke free.
Seamus obliged and moved to grab the weapon as James and Edmund struggled to bring the orc down. James watched as the orc kicked Edmund away before suddenly throwing him back. James gritted his teeth and moved to unsheathe his sword.
“Carapa–”
An armored boot striking at his chest interrupted James. He flew to the ground, more out of surprise than pain. He caught his breath and looked up to see Edmund try to grab at his sword before the orc’s enormous fist struck him. The punch sent the mercenary to the ground, the strike hard enough to send his helmet flying off. Seamus tried to help, but the orc kicked him away, sending him into the dirt a few meters away.
“Dammit!” James cursed. He fully unsheathed his sword and tried to slash at the orc but failed, his sword’s edge missing before the behemoth kicked at his wrist, sending his sword flying out of reach. James felt the orc’s boot hit his side, sending him to the ground. He groaned, grabbing at his side as he tried to get up. He just needed his sword and maybe…
James saw the orc’s shadow tower over him, his eyes moving to look up at the greenish creature, a shit-eating grin on the brute’s bloodied lips as he cracked his knuckles.
‘Shit…’ James mentally groaned.
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“I’m going to break you slowly…” The orc chuckled as he stepped closer to James, whose hand grabbed a fistful of the ground beneath him. “You will regret trying to get the jump on me,” the dumbass continued, monologuing like some idiot. Just as James was about to interrupt, Faust’s voice came into his mind.
‘James, grab at his head when you can. I got an idea I want to try out.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Just trust me…’
James mentally nodded at Faust, hoping the spirit knew what he was doing. He looked up at the behemoth before him, still droning about crushing James’ bones into a powder.
“Are you just going to keep talking? Cause it’s only going to make this hurt a lot more,” James retorted at the brute, grinning back as the orc’s face twisted in confusion. James didn’t allow the bastard to get smart, his hand bringing up the fistful of dirt he had been collecting. He threw it at the orc’s eyes, blindsiding him and giving himself a chance to retaliate. The brute cursed loudly, covering his face as James sprang into action, his hands grabbing both sides of the orc’s head.
There was a sudden feeling of piercing and burning pain, his eyes flaring in heat as the world went white. James felt his mind clash with the orcs, an unbearable pain coming over him for a moment before a surge of energy overcame his body, making it explode in heat. James felt his lungs involuntarily gasp, his hands quickly recoiling as the world returned to normal.
James felt sweat dampen his blond hair, a sudden influx of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he panted heavily. He looked down at his hands, which felt like they were burning hot despite being unscathed. He looked up at the orc, who was staring at James. There was fear in his eyes as he tried to keep his balance, his feet stumbling around like a drunk.
“Wh-What are—?” The orc’s words were cut off when a spear pierced his throat. The sudden action made James jump in surprise and horror. He watched as the orc’s single eye widened, his hand going over his bleeding throat as he dropped.
James looked down at the dying orc, shock overcoming him before he looked up at the attacker. Seamus was standing there, his body tensed and heaving. His eyes glinted with a strange and dangerous look, something James never expected to see in the young man. Seamus blinked, his green eyes widening as the crazed look in them winked away as if it was never there. He dropped the bloodied spear, staring at the corpse as his hands slightly shook.
“I… I… He was going to…” Seamus didn’t find the words, his voice shaking as he tried to explain himself.
James swallowed, slowly getting up as he wiped his hands despite no blood on them. “It’s fine, Seamus,” he assured the young man, who went silent. James looked down at the dead orc one more time, frowning. Despite Seamus killing the creature, James didn’t focus on that.
‘Faust. What the hell did we do?’ he asked the spirit, his eyes focusing on the fading blue glow in the orc’s eyes, mimicking James’ own.
‘Not sure,’ Faust answered back, his voice sounding like how James felt. Elated, surprised, and full of energy. ‘But it felt good.’
James shuddered a little, unsure of what to make of the situation. He noticed Edmund walking up to the scene, rubbing the bruise on the right side of his face. James could see the young mercenary’s helmet in his right hand, dented and dirtied.
“Ugh… I thought we weren’t supposed to kill him?” Edmund asked, scratching at his brownish hair as he looked down at the dead orc.
“It got out of hand,” James answered, sighing as he stared at the corpse. He felt more than a little disturbed and shook at the sight, the memory of the orc’s bleeding throat being forever burned into his mind. “Let’s get out of here. Maybe the others had better luck subduing one.”
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James raised an eyebrow at the unconscious orc tied up at the edge of the snowy forest, his face looking as if someone had caved it in.
“He looks dead,” James commented.
“Nah, that’s how his face is,” Bjorn replied.
“I meant the mashed nose and bloody jaw,” James pointed out. “Haggard, are you sure you held back?” James turned to look at the hammer-wielding man, who was cleaning his weapon.
“Believe me, I held back. I gave him the equivalent of two love taps to make sure he stayed down.” Haggard looked at his hammer, which was now blood-free. He grinned as he holstered it, making sure it was on the right.
“What about the first orc?” Seamus asked. “You caved in half his skull.”
“I overestimated how tough orcs are. That was an accident. Just like with that poor bastard you killed,” Haggard shot back.
“Hey, let’s all focus on what’s important.” James interrupted, nipping any conflict right in the bud. “From what we know, the orcs are keeping prisoners. People we need to focus on saving right now. This guy here might know where they’re taking them. We just need him to wake up…”
“I got it covered,” Archibald said, unsheathing his rapier. Before James could stop the elf, Archibald stabbed at the orc’s knee, causing the prisoner to shout in pain.
“Agh! Fuck!”
James looked at the elf, who had a smug look. “He was faking being unconscious. I saw his eyes slightly open and close a couple minutes back,” Archibald explained, cleaning and sheathing his rapier. The elf tapped at the side of his head. “Can’t fool my eyes, foul creature.” He grinned at the orc, who scowled.
‘Are you going to interrogate him?’ Faust suddenly asked.
‘You mean your way of interrogation? I doubt you questioned prisoners humanely during your time in Cyrus’ legion,’ James asked Faust.
‘Perceptive, aren’t you? How else are you going to get the answers you need? Cut off a few fingers. That should get him spilling,’ Faust suggested.
‘I’ll come up with something else, thank you very much,’ James answered, knowing he’d rather approach this civilly.
“Fucking knife-ears,” the orc commented before he spat blood at the mercenary. Archibald dodged it, and the spit landed on Bjorn’s clothes and armor. That was enough to make the dwarf angrily come at the orc before Haggard held him back.
“Let me at him!” Bjorn shouted angrily, trying to break from Haggard’s grasp.
James looked at the sight and got a simple idea. “If you don’t cooperate, my friend here will let the dwarf do what he wants to you,” James spoke to the orc, giving him a small smile. The orc’s look of defiance soon dropped as he realized his situation.
“What?” the creature asked, looking at James, who shrugged.
“I mean, if you don’t want to help us, I’ll just let Bjorn here express that built-up anger he’s been harboring these last few days… Right, Edmund?” James turned to Edmund, who wasn’t among those holding the dwarf back. Edmund had a confused look for a second before he caught on.
“Right. Bjorn here has been itching to let loose on something for these last few days. You would be a nice opponent for him to, uh… Ahem, express his anger,” Edmund said, going along with James. James felt himself grin as he watched the orc squirm in his bindings. All the while, Bjorn was shouting incoherently about gutting the prisoner like a silverhead.
“Fine! Fine! I’ll tell you what I know! Just please don’t let him near me,” the orc begged.
“Smart,” James congratulated the orc, patting him on the shoulder as he looked at Haggard. “You should probably take Bjorn far from here. Get him to cool down,” he muttered to Haggard, who nodded as he dragged Bjorn off to the nearby forest, followed by Seamus and Miles.
James sighed as he looked back at the orc, who was looking more relieved as Bjorn was taken away.
‘Civilly, you said?’ The spirit asked.
‘Ah, quit complaining. My idea worked.’ James shut Faust up before taking a seat on a nearby stump.
“Alright, let’s start with a simple question. Where are your friends taking the prisoners?” James questioned, leaning in. The orc licked some of the blood from his lips and exposed teeth. His eyes concentrated as he looked at James.
“Do you have a death wish, human?” The orc asked, scowling.
“Just tell me, or else I’m bringing the dwarf back,” James answered curtly, furrowing his brow.
“Camp is not far from here. We set up a small outpost. We usually take the prisoners there,” the orc explained with clear hesitance. After that, they’re taken to the main camp.”
“Where’s the main camp?” James asked, arms crossed. “Can you take us there?”
The orc shook his head, cursing in another language. He spat out a glob of crimson spit before he looked back at James. “Look, I don’t know where the main camp is. I’m just a grunt. You see, Soreg was our leader. He should know…”
James set his jaw at that, hands clenching into fists as he stared at the orc. The orc was clearly holding back information, judging from the amused way he explained himself. Just a grunt. A convenient excuse. This orc wasn’t fond of sharing vital information. For some reason, James felt as if threats weren’t going to work on him.
‘You should cleave that misshapen head of his,’ Faust growled, the spirit’s anger flooding James’ body. It felt as if someone injected strong liquor into his veins, heat spreading across him like a wave.
‘Calm yourself,’ James hissed internally. ‘I’m not going to cut his fucking head off! Not when he knows where the prisoners are held!’
‘Like I care for that!’ Faust said with reprieve. ‘They’re probably already dead! Kill the bastard!’
Red tinted his vision as the spirit’s anger grew, heat emanating from James’ eyes. James immediately covered his gaze, his head turning away from the orc as he breathed puffs of steam that rose into the air like clouds. He had no clue that the Centurion’s anger would bring out so much heat.
“I need a break,” James muttered in a breath. He stepped away from it all, pulling off his wool hat. He felt beads of sweat roll down his forehead, which felt like it was almost steaming.
‘Faust, I need you to shut the fuck up and CALM down. The last thing I need is to lose my cool. Especially when there are LIVES at stake. Understand?’
The spirit did not answer. Yet the anger slowly began to dissipate, his body heat no longer increasing. He supposed that would do for now.
“Alright,” James finally said, releasing his irritation as he reined in his emotions. It seemed Faust’s spirit still affected him, causing his anger to flare up without warning.
“What happened there?” Edmund asked as he stepped up to James, clear confusion in his expression.
“Remember what I told you back at the cave about that spirit? Sometimes it messes with my emotions, making them flare up,” James explained. “I guess the situation must’ve triggered something. I’m not sure.”
“Well, when you’re ready, we should come up with a plan to help those imprisoned,” Edmund suggested, looking back at the orc, who was being watched by Archibald. James took a second to think, feeling the chilly breeze of the forest cool his head and mind down enough to think straight.
“I have an idea, but you might not like it.” James looked at Edmund, who grimaced.
“Please tell me it’s a better plan than the one you had back in that cave.”
“No promises.”