Skirmish (Fangdarr): Relentless

Skirmish (Fangdarr): Relentless

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 doubts he had felt before we gone, replaced by the intense lust for bloodshed. Fangdarr’s roaring swipes carried out over his victim’s terrified screams and blinded him to their pain. There was only the kill. The thrill of the hunt.

Fury and rage drove his axe faster and faster as he chased down the townspeople. He paid no attention to their feeble attempts at defense—or even the lack thereof by the women and children. There was no time for thoughts, no morality. Only the insatiable need for more. More. It didn’t matter how deep his axe cleaved or how much of his vitality it had restored, Fangdarr always felt an unquenchable thirst.

From the other end of the village, Raz’ja too relished in his sport. Though he maintained the clarity to keep an eye on his feral companion and watched with glee. The troll smiled wide in self-appreciation. He knew his wisdom in aligning himself with Fangdarr would pay off, but witnessing the orc in his element put to shame even his high expectations.

Fangdarr charged onward. The trail of bodies left in his wake formed a bloody path from the town’s entrance through to the center. It did not take long for even the guards to abandon their courage and take flight with the citizens. Yet the orc followed.

A man donned in his proud guard’s uniform tripped in front of the rampaging orc and screamed in fear. He quickly returned to his feet and frantically sprinted away toward a nearby building, the invader close behind. Opening the door, the guard rushed inside to seek a hiding place in his desperation. His eyes grew wide as he saw a frightened woman or child behind every corner. The shocked expression on his face was no match for their own, however, as he ran up to the nearest child hiding behind a piece of furniture and pushed her out of the way to take her place.

Fangdarr entered the room just as the man had shoved the young girl into the open. A thousand warnings raised in his mind to stop. His conscious begged him in his mother’s voice. This is wrong, Fangdarr. Stop. Do not hurt them.

But he couldn’t listen. There was only the hunt. Without hesitation, the orc swung his axe through the child that stared up at him in fear and confusion. Her face never changed even as his weapon cleaved it in half.

Fangdarr bent down to tear the ears off the girl’s severed halves and tucked them into his nearly bursting pouch.

Not a single moment of hesitation was given by the orc before he turned his axe toward the man whimpering behind the piece of furniture. Whether he cried out of fear for himself or in remorse for the fate he had imposed on the child, it mattered naught. He pressed his face against the wooden floor and knew his life was forfeit. He could run no longer. He waited for what seemed an eternity for the blinding light of death to take him with the orc’s axe.

Just as the orc was about to paint the floor with the guard’s blood, a woman charged out from her hiding place. Fangdarr turned his attention toward her, thinking to intercept her lunging attack. But it was not he the woman was after. He halted his swing mid-air to see the woman, tears streaming down her face, wielding a small pronged utensil. She dove toward the man on the ground and began stabbing into his skull relentlessly, crying out in rage and pain. After the cowardly man beneath her was gurgling his own lifeblood, she rose to her feet and charged Fangdarr.