Skirmish (Fangdarr): Injustice

Skirmish (Fangdarr): Injustice

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.

Home, Fangdarr thought again, padding through the gate with a grin on his face. His gaze flicked hungrily across the landscape, taking in the sight of the community. The crudely built abodes, the bustling orcs going about their day. Children, even. Fangdarr’s heart skipped a beat as he realized he had never really seen his own people before. A swelling sense of pride filled within him. 

It had never occurred to the orc just how many others of his kind there may be. Hundreds were outside their homes, brawling, lounging, or cooking large, succulent hunks of meat over the many fire pits within the village. As he watched his people, he noticed almost immediately that only the females seemed to be doing work. Every male just lazed around watching their mate work or playfully challenged other males to fights.

To Fangdarr, such an unfair division of labor seemed absurd and out of the ordinary. His mother had never told him of such practices. Instead, he and Bitrayuul—and even Tormag—had always aided Vrutnag with the work to be done. The prideful smile on the orc’s face faded, replaced with a scowl of disappointment. He let out a low growl as he watched one male down the path get up from the patch of grass in which he had rested just to scold and beat his mate. Fangdarr eyed all of the couple’s surrounding neighbors, hoping someone would step in. But his disappointment grew as not a single orc even batted an eye. 

Fangdarr sighed and began walking toward the center of the village again, no longer frozen in his tracks by the sights around him. Instead, he was reminded of his purpose to be there—to become chieftain. 

He knew he needed to tread carefully, however. Already he would be seen as an outsider. Upon taking his rightful title, Fangdarr knew that pushing instant reform would bring him nothing more than a knife in his skull while he slept. Stomping down the path, he passed the orc that had beaten and scolded the female. Holding back his urge to beat the orc to death, Fangdarr offered naught but a hateful glare as he walked past. 

As he made his way to the large tent in the center of the village that could only belong to the current chieftain, Fangdarr couldn’t get his mind off of the suffering. He had been raised differently, better. Females were nothing less than equals in his mind, and he hated knowing half of his clan was suffering in silence. And for how long? He could only assume such was their way, and always had been. Had his father truly seen no fault in such practice? Fangdarr found himself baring his teeth as new truths came to light.

Blinded by his frustration, Fangdarr nearly bumped into a large statue outside the chieftain’s tent. The startlement only made him angrier and he turned toward the tent, nostrils flared. As he turned, he realized that he had been followed by a few curious onlookers. It was clear they knew his marvelous weapon, but not the orc who now wielded it.

It was now or never. “I come to challenge chieftain!” Fangdarr howled at the top of his lungs, loud enough for every orc within a hundred paces to hear.