Skirmish (Fangdarr): Trinkets
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.
Its breathing disrupted with the sound of loose stone cracking beneath Fangdarr’s feet. He cursed his carelessness and held impossibly still, waiting for the beast to stir. The orc’s heart pounded within his chest. Every instinct begged him to flee. To run away and find a new dwelling. But Fangdarr did not. He could not. Too stubborn was his pride. Too great his need to prove himself, though no spectators were present to witness. This was his challenge. The true test of strength that he must undergo to know he is fit for this world. At least, that’s what Fangdarr tried to convince himself.
With bravery—or blind arrogance—the orc stepped closer, raising Driktarr high in the air. He disregarded the sounds beneath his feet, thinking only to cull his opponent with surprise his advantage. The stone shards crunched loudly beneath his weight, breaking the enchantment of slumber on the enormous being. As Fangdarr’s axe came down, the monster began to uncurl its limbs.
He did not know what had possessed him in that moment, but his weapon halted a moment before crashing through his victim’s thick skull. The creature looked up at him, concern and surprise in its eyes, wondering at the random appearance of the ferocious orc that sought to bring its end. Fangdarr, despite his self-imagined test for glory and validation, could not bring himself to squelch the life from those dark, gray eyes. For though they belonged to a monstrous creature, he did not feel malice nor hatred toward it, only pity.
Fangdarr lowered Driktarr’s blade to the ground and stared at the creature, as it stared at him. The terrified expression on its face slowly dwindled, replaced by rage. It rose to its full height within the tight confines of the cave, its head nearly scraping the stone above, and eyed the intruder with a harsh scowl. Even at Fangdarr’s impressive size, especially having only seen sixteen winters, the creature dwarfed him. It stood twice his height, with arms as thick as his muscled torso, and a gut doubling his girth. By now, Fangdarr had concluded that an ogre stood before him, as its heavy foot stomped forward, pressing its rage into the rocky floor beneath to show its discontent.
Uncertainty and regret swirled Fangdarr’s mind. Should he have slain the beast as it slept, or face it head on now? The ogre continued to stare at him, as if questioning his presence, though made no move to attack. Fangdarr pondered every action he could take. It seemed unlikely he could best the creature now that it was awake—not within the cave, at the least. He made eye contact with the gray eyes of the ogre. The same eyes that had previously halted his culling strike due to the raw fear that had been present within. Those orbs bore into him with all the demand they could muster.
Fangdarr could not decide the best course of action and time was fleeting with the ogre’s patience. Finally, before his mind could finish the thought, the orc’s mouth blurted, “Hello,” awkwardly. Fangdarr nearly covered his mouth in shock as the words passed his lips. It was too late. In the face of the giant, foul-smelling beast, the only action the orc had taken—after contemplating taking its life—was to greet it.
He watched as the ogre’s eyes continued to see red for many moments. Then, they slowly turned soft and a smile spread beneath, revealing a handful of missing teeth. “Hello!” came the ecstatic reply, much to Fangdarr’s surprise. He had never heard an ogre speak before, but the word came out slowly and somewhat odd, as if the creature’s mind needed time to rummage through its memories on how to speak. The orc wondered if all ogres spoke in such a manner, or if this one was perhaps feeble-minded.
The ogre extended a large hand forward, catching Fangdarr by surprise and forcing him into a defensive position. Its hand remained extended, though its face contorted with confusion, not understanding the seemingly random movement of its guest. “I’m Gub,” it spoke, still smiling, “what’s your name?”
Fangdarr was baffled. Did the creature not realize he had nearly claimed its life? After closer inspection, he believed the answer was obvious. Taking a step forward, he slid Driktarr back into its resting place on his back. His black-skinned hand disappeared beneath the ogre’s as it wrapped entirely around his hand and forearm and shook it roughly. “Fangdarr,” he replied.
Gub clapped his meaty hands together happily and bounced up and down, hitting his head against the low ceiling. After the third impact, the ogre finally looked up, wondering what had fallen on its head and rubbing his skull tenderly. As the ludicrous beast’s gaze fell on Fangdarr once more, it seemed to have forgotten he had ever existed. Its gray eyes lit up with pure joy at the sight of a visitor. Quickly, Gub turned around and started scraping through the small pile of junk it had collected.
“Here go!” Gub exclaimed with excitement, turning back to Fangdarr with what remained of a deer’s skull, though most of the bone had been broken or fragmented.
The orc looked at the ‘trinket’ curiously, then back to Gub’s waiting face, full of childish eagerness. Slowly, he extended his hand and grabbed the mutilated skull and smiled awkwardly to the ogre. He grunted in thanks, as he could not form the words, too lost in confusion at this entire endeavor. Never did he expect to find himself in the company of an ogre—on friendly terms—trading . . . trinkets.
Gub sat and watched Fangdarr hold his new gift with delight etched into every part of his face. Now, he waited patiently, a look of expectation replacing the happiness. Fangdarr caught on eventually—though it took a few moments to discern the odd beast’s desires—and rummaged through the small pouch at his waist. From within, the orc produced a dense, round rock that he had picked up the previous day to throw at birds and knock them from branches. Fangdarr showed the ‘trinket’ to Gub and held it out for the ogre, who’s eyes had once more lit up like the happiest being in Crein.
Fangdarr watched as Gub hugged the small stone tightly against his body, cherishing it as much as a loved one, and gently tucked it beneath the fold of its stomach for safekeeping. With a yelp of surprise, Fangdarr was lifted into the air and pressed against Gub’s chest, who wished to show his newfound friend the extent of his delight. The orc struggled to breath beneath the too-tight squeeze of his ally and gasped for air after being dropped to the ground carelessly.
Breathing heavily, Fangdarr rose to his feet and stared at Gub. “Friend,” he said calmly. One final check to be sure his safety was secured.
Gub flashed his smile once more and breathed a sigh of happiness, blowing gruesome breath into Fangdarr’s face that forced a few blinks. “Friend.”