At the cusp of dawn in dark of his bedroom, Dornmit groggily woke up to another day. But when the Orchish boy leaned out of his bed after having swinged his legs over the edge, the pained echoes of the fight from yesterday reverberated their aching call. With the back of his hip thrumming like broken and soundless drum and the worst of it was the pain coming from his neck. For it was giving off discordant and angry pulses of agony where Chopeck had landed the finishing kick on him.
Divine-Kissed Chitpulka… I’m never going to live that defeat down if master hears of this, he thought with a sigh. He then rubbed a calloused hand over his neck and eliciting more pain from discolored bruise that sat there, before getting up. The Orc then slowly got dressed in a loose brown shirt and a pair of old threadbare knee-length trousers before heading out.
In the hallway he was able to hear the loud snoring from his parent’s bedroom, with the distinctive and loud falsetto snoring being the hallmark of his mother having had too much to drink the night before.
Dornmit chuckled to himself softly even as he tiptoed past their bedroom to the kitchen. For the boy was reminded of how last night he had witnessed his mother challenge a Homarian Shellwurm to a drinking contest and how she had resoundingly lost afterwards. Even now he was still amazed at the memory of his mother knocking back the intense Swampfire-whiskey and matching the Shellwurm shot for shot, before they subsequently finished the bottle and raided Lem’s stash in his house to continue the contest.
Dornmit’s mind then wandered as he wondered why adults like drinking so much as he helped himself to some old tack jerky and leftover soup in the kitchen. Then when the boy was finished with his breakfast, he headed out the back of the house and brushed his teeth using the special tooth-medicine before gargling it out using their family’s rain barrel. With his morning ministrations completed, he fetched his shield that sat beside the kitchen door before tying on his sandals and heading out for his morning jog.
His personal mono-winged shield was of the same design as the one he had played with yesterday at the Brownwhisker’s Ranch, having both been made by his father. But the difference between his and the toy was that his was much, much heavier. This was because his shield was made wholly out of his father’s special alloy compared to how the toy was made of leather and then reinforced with iron. But even with it’s bulky weight, the boy carried it with familiar ease in his right hand as he twisted his hips whilst walking as he stretched before his morning exercise.
The Orc boy then walked from the house and towards his father’s outdoor smithy even as the village was beginning to wake up from its morning slumber with Paek and its twin creeping up at the edge of the horizon. The Orc paid particular care to gentle lean down into his left leg even as he stretched it by propping it up on his father’s grinding wheel. He then pulled himself up to his full height before rolling his neck, then his shoulders before jogging on the spot as he waited.
How long’s he gonna be? he wondered even as tall figure rounded the back of the Scimitar at a jog. It was the Horse-headed reverse-centaur Timothy that was jogging towards him. The newcomer was dressed in a loose and similar fashion as he was, but the reverse-Centaur also had a wooden two-handed training sword slung over his shoulder as he ran towards him.
He’s looking pretty grouchy this morning, Dornmit noted even as his friend and fellow rookie approached him.
“Morning Dorn,” greeted Timothy with a slightly downturned frown that was barely perceptible on his equine head and heavy eyelids as he came to a stop before the Orc.
“Morning Tim,” Dornmit greeted back in reply. “What’s the matter?” He then asked as he got straight to the matter.
“Working late last night,” replied Timothy as he threw a nod over his shoulder at the pub he had just jogged past and releasing a annoyed whinny.
“Oh.. I’m sorry to hear that,” Dornmit replied awkwardly before asking, “Shall we?”
“After you,” Timothy replied with a slight nod of his large head down at Dornmit, who was already quite tall amongst the villagers.
Taking his cue, Dornmit began to jog away from his home as the two begun their usual morning jog routine. The reverse-Centaur was right behind him as the pair begun to control their breathing as they settled into their normal pace.
But before long, Timothy was able to spot the angry and dark green welt that peeked out form above the collar of Dornmit’s neck which caused him to let out a startled whinny and speeding up to align next to his partner.
“Dornmit what the Realms is that on your neck?” he asked in alarm with the whites of his eyes showing.
Damn didn’t want him to see that, Dormnit thought as he was reminded how his new friend easily panicked. What am going to say to him? He wondered even as the two continued to run through town and past the headman’s house.
“It’s nothing, I got it playing at the Brownwhiskers yesterday,” he answered as he tried to downplay the events.
“You call that nothing?! *whinny* We don’t even get bruises like that after sparring with Crag or Fellclaw!” replied the still worried Timothy, even as the pair ran past the bakery and it’s fragrant morning smells of freshly baked goods.
As Dornmit tried to think up excuses and jog at the same time, he started to lose his breathing rhythm. The two continued past the Firefly before spotting the small figure of Canaltia Fem, the young Desert-Kobold girl who was presumably heading to her Clerk apprenticeship at the aforementioned Firefly.
Seeing his chance to buy some time, Dornmit greeted the girl as he attempted to steer the conversation away.
“Morning Caanaltia!” he shouted before coming to a stop in front of the brown and white striped girl who wore a plain black dress.
“Morning Dornmit, morning Timothy,” replied the Kobold girl even as she began to nervously shift about at the sight of the reverse-Centaur.
“Morning to you too today Canaltia,” Timothy greeted as he too, also came to a stop before he gestured with a nod towards Dornmit to continue. He then shot off once more as he was feeling annoyed at having being stopped so early in their run.
“Bye Calanatia,” spoke Dornmit lamely before he chased off after his friend.
The girl who was left behind kept staring at the back of Timothy’s white head before the pair rounded the corner as they headed towards the Gneeple’s farm. She was left to her own thoughts with a small creeping blush coming up her neck in the soft glow of the morning for a while. But before long, she twirled around and headed back towards the Firefly.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“So what’s this bruise then?” Timothy asked once more as they sped past the forest of fruit trees that demarcated the Gneeple’s Orchard.
Broken tusks! I thought I had him… wait I can just say it was the Garuda! Dornmit quickly thought in panic as an awkward silence stretched between them, during which Timothy waited upon his answer.
Dornmit slowly came to a slow stop as the pair neared the edge of the large orchard. The yeasty and pungent smell that hung in the air here was a sure sign that the pair was about to approach upon the Fem’s brewery.
Seeing that his partner had come to a stop next to him and that he had his full attention, Dornmit attempted to compose himself before he spun his lie.
“Well you see, there was this crazy thing that happened yesterday… You know how I wanted you to come yesterday?” Dornmit asked before sucking in some air through the sides of his immature tusks.
“Yes,” answered the reverse-Centaur before casting a sad look downwards and shifting his training sword to the other shoulder, for he had looked forwards to making more friends who was close this his age with the Brownwhiskers boys.
“Well I’m sorry about that.. It was very a personal matter to Mister Lem you see…maybe next time,” Dornmit quickly shot out as he started to feel bad for his new friend. A small ache shot through his heart at the idea that he was about to lie to Timothy, but this was easily quashed by the shame of admitting he was beaten by a Chitpulka. Even if it was a freak of nature he added to himself as he gripped onto the strap of his shield even harder.
“Well you see.. we were playing the fruit game as usual, the one I told you about,” he continued before nodding his chin up towards his friend.
Timothy slowly nodded back with a slow blink to assure his partner that he was aware of the game that he spoke off before waiting for him to continue.
“Well you see…” Dornmit continued before turning towards the village and presenting his back to Timothy. “We were attacked by a WHOA-TEN GARUDA! And I had to fight tooth and nail to protect my friends Kona and Nosal…. Before I was able to finish off the foul creature!” shouted Dornmit before lifting his shield up dramatically as he finished his story.
“Whoaaa,” was what he heard from his friend behind him, and Dornmit smiled knowing that he had caught him with his lie.
“What’s… a Whoa-ten Garuda?” Timothy eagerly asked with his right hand placed on Dornmit’s left shoulder.
The Orc boy quickly rounded with grin before saying, “It’s a foul creature my friend… but let us continue our morning exercise!” Then the Orc shout off towards the brewery with his friend hot on his heels.
“Tell me more Dronmit! What was it like!” asked the reverse-Centaur eagerly as he easily caught up to the young Orc with his lanky legs.
“Well… It’s this mighty, mighty, BIG green bird that shoots explosive balls from it’s chest,” Dornmit calmly stated with sly grin on right corner of his mouth and out of Timothy’s sight as he tried to underplay the situation.
“Whoa…” replied the reverse-Centaur once more.
The pair then continued along their morning jog with Dornmit continuing to spin an elaborate tale of heroism and daring before the two finally headed towards their workplace. The pair slowly jogged into the walled compound behind the Direclaw’s home that served as the barracks for the Village Guard.
Inside the middle of the compound was a fenced sandy ring that served as the sparring ring along with a few wooden pells situated around its edge. To the left was the squat stone barracks where the Guard would assemble and receive orders from their chief, Master Shade Direclaw. To the right of the compound was another smaller stone building that was the armory where most of the gear was to be kept outside of service, with Dornmit’s personal shield being a special exception.
The back of this whole compound was built right into the rear of the Direclaw’s home and sitting in a chair beside the door to this house and still in her azure blue dress from last night, was the Quartermaster and Master to all Defenders in the Guard. In the chair was the Leonid, Gazzelle Direclaw.
The blonde-furred Leonid woman with her closely cropped hair was sitting there with small smile on her feral and beautiful face that sent shivers up the boys spins as they jogged into the courtyard. Dornmit was absolutely shocked to see his master in anything other than her usual leather padding and hauberk. But even as a uncontrollable and unknown teenage feeling stirred inside him, at unnatural sight of his master sporting womanly curves in her dress, it was quickly crushed as training kicked in.
The two jogged into the courtyard before aligning in front of the seated lady before flourishing a crisp salute and shouting “Recruit reporting for duty!”
“At ease,” purred the Leonid before a spark twinkled in her eye.
“What happened to you Dornmit? You are aware that fights in town for any Guard could result in pay dock?” Gazzele inquired before crossing one fine leg over the other, that slightly peeked out from the slit of her dress.
“It was from a fight with a creature at the Brownwhisker Ranch yesterday Mam!” Dornmit shouted even as sweat began to trickle down his neck.
“What manner of Beast or Monster was it to leave you in such a state even after all the training I have giving you? Did it outrank you?” the Leonid continued in her inquiry even as she inspected the beautiful and glossy nail-paint on her formidably sharp claws of her hand.
“Yes Mam! It was a Garuda Mam!” Dornmit lied nervously even as he stared straight ahead at the wall of the Direcalw house.
“Timothy you are dismissed for now, you can go find my son in the Barracks to help you train for today, My husband is a little…. indisposed after last night,” purred the Leonid. Timothy then saluted the woman once more before swiveling and jogging away towards the barracks and leaving a sweating Dornmit standing to attention alone.
As soon as the reverse-Centaur was out of sight, the Leonid shot up to her full height as she towered above the already tall Orcish boy.
“Do not lie to me Dornmit-Tars, you know the consequences,” she whispered as she leaned down into his ear. The Orc boy started to sweat even more profusely, that glistened in a beautifully green glow as the morning light reflected off it. He also swallowed a large gulp of saliva down his throat as he nervously hoped that the future before him would not include days of armor polishing or grueling exercises.
“Now I’ve fought a Garuda before, and I assure you that you would be dead if you were to do the same…… So even if it was a lesser-Garuda, which has an explosive attack if I were to recall correctly, and still at odds to these blunt attack bruising that you sport. So… in light of how I just showed you mercy by having saved you the embarrassment of having to confess in front of the impressionable Timothy, whom you would of no doubt have told a very fetching tale…. I will ask you once more, and this time I would like the truth…. What happened?” asked the Leonid as she stalked around the Lime-green Orc who was close to soiling his pants.
“I… *inhales* I fought a Chitpulka master,” blurted out Dornmit even as shame filled him. I’m never going to live this down.
“Say that again,” commanded the Leonid woman who had come to a stop behind the boy and out of his sight.
“I fought a Chitpulak master,” Dornmit spoke once more even as tears rimmed his eyes.
As she was in quite the good mood from last night and remembering that she was long longer in the army, it resulted in Gazzele inhaling a sharp breath through her nose instead of giving a cruel retort to the poor boy.
He’s just a child…. and there’s bound to be some fine story behind this, she thought to herself with amusement even as the Orc boy trembled in fear.
“At ease and explain,” she commanded.
Dornmit visibly deflated before turning around to look at his master with a quivering mouth and tear rimmed eyes.
“I’m sorry master, I thought we were just playing… *sniffs* but, but the Mood was just too strong! That I had… I had lost and shamed you,” Dronmit gave his apology before casting his gaze downwards.
What the fuck?! Gazelle thought to herself even as she trained her face with an impassioned mask that gave nothing away.
“You shall not speak of this failure ever again! Now give me another five laps around the village and you shall come back here later to do some polishing!” she barked automatically and sending the boy scampering out of the courtyard.
I trained him myself! How did a bronze ranked Guard loss to rankless Divine-kissed Chitpulka! She thought to herself with a mixture of amusement and anger.
Looks like I’ll have to pay Lem a visit and ask him what the Realms is he feeding his pets, she thought to herself before sitting in her chair once more as she waited to punish Crag for being late who was still without a doubt hungover from yesterday.