Skirmish (Fangdarr): Freedom
Follow along each week for Skirmishes of characters of the Orcblood Legacy Series. These are real events that take place during the story’s timeline but are not detailed in the book.
Fangdarr stepped easily toward his friend, no longer bothered by the sight of the half-eaten woman in Gub’s hands—nor the gory mess the ogre was making of himself. The orc planted his bloodied greataxe into the earth next to the fire pit and took a seat. As he pulled another hunk of meat from the roasted venison, Fangdarr let out a sigh of content. The weather was pleasant, the breeze gentle, and—save for the crunching of Gub’s meal—the forest was silent.
With each passing moment, Fangdarr grew more and more accepting of his choice to leave the confines of his family’s home. He had been outside in the forest many times before, but it felt different now. Untethered and free to do as he pleased, Fangdarr enjoyed the prospect of having none to command him but himself. His eyes glanced back to Gub, whom had just finished the last of his meal and was picking shreds of cloth from his teeth. Despite the sense of liberty, the orc was glad to at least have one friend—even one so dumb as this one.
That night, they slept by the fire, taking advantage of the preparations their human victims had made for themselves. And why should it go to waste? This was Fangdarr’s life now. To salvage, to raid, to hunt. To survive. His mother had raised him to be respectful of other’s belongings. But that was not the orcish way, he knew. And his mother was gone.
For the next moon cycle, Fangdarr and Gub strolled through the surrounding wood with no destination in mind. They stayed together and became close as they hunted, joked, and continued to raid unfortunate humans in their secluded cabins. Fangdarr loved every moment of it, relishing in the freedom and the bloodshed. Not a shred of guilt was felt for those they had murdered in their exploits. Not for humans. Never for humans.
One morning, the pair were lazing around by a stream and simply enjoying the lush beauty of the forest and all it had to offer. They splashed around joyously, scaring away the nearby birds and other critters who had resided too close. “This fun, Faydar!” Gub exclaimed with his almost child-like giggle as he dipped the tips of his fingers into the water’s surface and flicked the liquid toward the orc.
Fangdarr, barely avoiding the torrent of water, kicked back his own series of splashes in response, dousing the sluggish ogre and drawing another laugh. For many moments they continued their light-hearted antics without any care. But it all stopped once Fangdarr heard the shuffling of brush not far off. He quickly shushed his friend and received a confused and blank stare in reply.
Slowly, Fangdarr patted the air and drew his weapon, waiting for their stalker. It was big. Enormous, even. Even the trees groaned in protest as the foreign creature came closer, threatening to rip their roots from the earth. Gub continued his empty expression. It was obvious the ogre could not gauge the severity of the threat that seemed to be approaching. Fangdarr, on the other hand, tensed his body in anticipation.
Finally, their intruder broke through the thick vegetation, pushing aside the dense brush. Not just one intruder, but many.