Skirmish (Fangdarr): Gub

Skirmish (Fangdarr): Gub

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.

The creature walked through the wood with grace. It slowly patted at the ground, exposing the more exquisite and rare plants tucked beneath the fallen leaves. As it grazed ignorantly, Fangdarr waited patiently behind a tree with his bow in hand.

Suddenly, the orc heard a twig snap at his rear, followed by the loud swishing of brush being pushed aside. Immediately he turned to see the simple and brutish ogre he had befriended the day prior.

“Gub! Shh!” Fangdarr urged, motioning desperately with his hands to the senseless beast. Before Gub even had a chance to flash his toothy smile, the orc was already staring wide-eyed at his prize as it dashed in the opposite direction.

“OH! Faydar, look! Deer!” Gub shouted at the top of his lungs in uncontainable excitement. If the creature had not already rushed off, it certainly would have by the ogre’s subsequent pounding on the forest floor with his eager hops.

All the orc could do was shake his head in frustration. How does this creature survive out here? It scares away all the food! Choosing to force himself back to tranquility, Fangdarr let his simmering rage dissipate and instead walked over to Gub—still flailing in wild joy.

“Gub, we need food,” the orc begged, bringing an end to the ogre’s smile. “Where you find food?” Already Fangdarr was starting to regret befriending the massive oaf. He watched Gub’s face turn from confusion, to glee, to perplexion, then fear, and finally denial all in a short span of time. How he wished he could hear the jumbled and slow thoughts of this creature.

Finally, Gub’s eyes lit up. “Food! I know where,” he responded in his usual slumped and sluggish tone. Without hesitation, the ogre took off running to the east. His long legs accelerated him quickly, though his awkward form and excessive gut slowed him to Fangdarr’s speed, allowing the orc to catch up quickly.

Together they ran, dashing through the woods for what seemed half the day. Finally, Gub skidded to a halt abruptly nearly causing Fangdarr to crash into him. Breathing heavily from such an extended trek, the orc scanned the area. He expected to see some sort of indicator that their meal was nearby—a trail of smoke, a fresh carcass, anything. But all Fangdarr could see was exactly what had surrounded them before they even left. There was naught but trees, stones, and brush.

“Where food, Gub?” Fangdarr asked after catching his breath. The burning in his legs was intense, though his stubbornness refused to allow him to sit.

The ogre turned to him and gave a yelp of surprise as if he had no idea who Fangdarr was or how he had appeared behind him. “Who you?!” Gub yelled, tripping over himself and crawling away desperately.

Fangdarr stood completely confounded at the ogre’s reaction. “Gub . . . It’s Fangdarr. You remember?” No matter his words, no recognition came from the poor disturbed creature. The orc could see the same fear staining the gray orbs of his newfound friend as their first encounter, renewing the pity that was felt. As Fangdarr took a step closer, Gub whimpered and continued to crawl backwards before backing into a large tree. His profound fear only grew upon the realization that he was seemingly trapped against this advancing demon.

How can he not remember me? We just spent half the day racing through the forest to find food! The orc rubbed his temple in thought, frustrated at the inconvenience of dealing with such an imbecilic creature. Quickly, Fangdarr fell on an idea. “Gub, lift your stomach.”

Afraid and confusion only continuing to grow, the ogre stared at Fangdarr with concern. Though, after the orc made a motion to lift his own stomach Gub followed suit. With his enormous gut free from its sticky seal against his waist, the round stone tucked inside fell to the ground. Gub immediately picked it up and inspected it with a smile, thinking he had just found a king’s crown in the muck.

Fangdarr waited for the realization to strike. Yet, many moments passed before the orc came to his own awareness that the ogre may never make the connection. He sighed at the hopelessness of his ploy and started to consider his options. Too tired and hungry to make the return journey back to their cave, there was little choice remaining. Fangdarr eyed his surroundings and knew he was unfamiliar with his location. Gub’s aimless path through the forest seemed to lead them to parts unknown, with no landmarks in sight.

“Faydar!” the orc heard a moment before he saw Gub scrambling to his feet and charging over.

Preparing for the inevitable assault of mass that he knew would be pressed around him, Fangdarr flexed his muscles as the ogre lifted him into the air in joy. Despite his efforts, the air in his lungs was pressed free as Gub gripped him tightly in his embrace. “G-Gub . . . down . . .” he could barely force out.

With luck, the ogre dropped him to the ground and smiled as Fangdarr crashed to the ground gasping for air. “Friend!” Gub held the small stone up for the orc to see, finally making the connection between the two, before tucking it safely beneath the fold of his stomach once more. “Friend,” he repeated and nodded to himself, that stupid smile on his face not diminishing in the slightest.

As if remembering their purpose for coming this way, Gub started walking off and leaving Fangdarr in the dirt to collect himself. The orc rose to his feet with a groan, regretting more and more his decision to befriend such a mindless brute. Nevertheless, he followed Gub through the wood—what choice did he have? After a few hundred paces, Fangdarr could see smell it. That succulent smell flooded his nostrils and replenished his hope. Meat.

Posted on: January 8, 2019Bernard Bertram