Disclaimer- This is all complete fiction. NONE of it is true. It has elements of fantasy violence ( explicit at times ), relations between a boy and a man, and sexual themes. If this is illegal for you to read or not to your tastes, DON'T READ! Otherwise, please look on down and if you have an opinion, let me know. I am more then willing to listen and reply.
I retain all copyrights and it is my property, If you want to host it or post it somewhere, just ask. I will most probably give permission.
This is a new turn of events for me, my first all complete fiction. It is based on a roleplaying character of mine, and with that, I move ahead with this new story.
Chapter-1
He woke to pain. Throbbing Pain! His head ached and he was almost driven back to the blackness that he had been awakened from, but he was able to fight it off with much effort. The coursing pain was shooting from his head to his toes, and all before he was opening his eyes. He took a shallow breath, as he now felt an agony from his left side as he tried to breath deeper.
Able now to make the attempt to look around and see where he was and what had brought on his ordeal, the battered man very slowly allowed his eyes to open. Dullish light shone through the smoke and fog of the field that he saw about him. Allowing his eyes to drift some, without turning his head or lifting it, he next saw that a large yellow skinned head, its eyes glazed open in death laying not too far from him. It had been cut off with some sort of weapon, ax most likely.
Memory started to come to him as he raised his head some to get a better idea of what was about, and if there was any danger. His name flowed from the back of his brain, the pain starting to lessen a little. Zert. That was his name. He was a warrior, a mercenary who had fought and clawed his way to freedom and a life from the pits of his birth.
Zert took in the battlefield, for that was where he lay. Many bodies, of Humans, Goblins, Orcs, and others. The Hobgoblin head that he first saw was only the closet of the dead and dismembered. On his right side, slightly downhill, was a huge Urok, an Orcish chief. Zert's sword was deep in the dead body. It must have been pulled from his hand when he fell into the blackness of unconsciousness.
Zert took inventory of his own injuries. Blood was caked on his right temple, where he must have taken the blow that had felled him. He also had a gash in his left side that was the source of the ache there. There were other cuts, bruises, and scrapes, but nothing was broken. Thank the Gods for that. He gave a silent prayer to Rawndalla, Mistress of Battle, for his survival.
Zert took the time to check out the wound on his side, and he saw that a sword, possibly from the Urok, had made its way pass his chain shirt and its leather padding. The links were parted and while not as deep as he feared, it was still a source of worry and possible infection. The cut on his temple was from where his helm had been pressed deep down, and the blood had coagulated after flowing as only head wounds can bleed. He saw the stain of his blood on his overcoat and mail on his shoulder.
He saw no one else moving. " Guess they took me for dead and left me. " he thought, though why he had not been stripped of his gear he was not sure. Had the battle been carried away from where he fell and no one had yet had time to come back? No answer was available, so all he could do was to take inventory of what he could and seek some help or habitation.
Of the dead about him, he saw many friends and companions of the Golden Company, his outfit, as well as Orcs of the Broken Hand Tribe. Damn if the Urok his sword was in was no less then Gaznark, chief of the Shattered Thigh clan. Good riddance of that sewage scum was Zert's thought. Orcs, ALL Orcs, were his enemy, for he had sworn vengeance for what that shit eaters had done to his mother and himself.
Not withstanding Zert being a Half Orc himself. He may have the biological heritage, but his bearing and mindset was completely human. He was his Mother's son, a member of Clan Braggin, and the enemy of all Orcs and their Goblin kin. The circumstances of his birth was a shame that Zert stood up to, never backing away from someone that would dare to insult his mother or call him an Orc. That insult was sure to bring pain or death on any that would dare.
Zert took in the sight of 20 of his downed companions. The company was never large, numbering 30 at last muster, so at least 9 still lived or had after this part of the battle. Zirak cut in half , his Dwarven beard still pleated with the rings he was so proud of. Anglique, her eyes never to sparkle in the firelight as she sung her tunes and told her tales. Too many fallen, friends and drinking companions. Men and women who had accepted Zert and protected his back as he did theirs. The company was shattered, if not completely destroyed. Would it be that none of the others would survive or be seen again?
Zert carefully shook these thoughts from his mind, focusing on the here and now. " I have to get myself together, and leave this place. Scavengers and worse will be here soon if I tarry. "
He stood up and felt his wounds hold together and not bleed any further, The pain was still there, and he had to pause as he came to a full stand. " Lady Rawndalla, damn it hurts. " He felt his holy symbol hanging from his neck, on the inside of his armor. he pulled the leather thong holding it and gripped it tightly. He was a skilled warrior, and a minor priest who had been taught the ways of the Mistress of Storms by his mother from a young age. He felt he now had to call on the prayers and plea's if he was to be able to move on from here.
He closed his eyes and he began his prayer. " Most Holy Mother, Lady who I worship and serve. I call on you to aid your servant so that I may continue to do your will and show my foes that you are indeed the Goddess whom I chose to devote myself to. Send your holy healing to my hand, so I may continue on my mission against my sworn enemy. Allow me to have vengeance on Orcs and protect the innocent. "
Finishing with some gestures that brought forth the spell that he had made his prayer, the energy started to come from and through his hand. He felt his wounds on his head and side close up and draw tight, and the pain lessened and grew dim. It was not complete healing, but enough that he felt like the man and warrior he was. As the spell finished its work, he smiled and nodded. He looked to the sky, saying, "My thanks Lady Rawndalla. Once more you have seen fit to keep me in your service. I stay at your side, and I am your sworn Battle Priest/Warrior. Once more Corporal Zert of Clan Braggin is able to do his duty. "
This done with, Zert went to the body of Gaznark and pulled Nimlas, his sword free. He wiped it clean of the blood and entrails that clung to her on the cloak of the Urok Chief, and sheathed it. He checked his daggers and the warhammer that were hung from his weapon belt and saw that they were still there and at the ready. Checking among the dead, he retrieved a short bow and a couple of quivers of arrows, as well as enough rations and water to last him at least a week, maybe two.
Though it was not pleasant, he also searched and tucked away all the gems and gold he could handle, as he would need it to buy a horse and other gear. Most of the armor and weapons around and on the dead was broken or not worth the trouble. He had an assortment of about 20 gems, and enough coin to carry him through to Port Nayr, the home-base of the Golden Company. They had been serving the Baron of High Hollow in protecting his outlying villages from raids from orcs, but with what had happened, that contract was over.
Zert had never liked the deal with the Baron and with Captain Vorn dead, it was null. No need to go back to the Baron's manor, where Zert would find himself delayed and even pressed into more service, If any of the company was alive, they could locate him back at the Lion's Pride Inn, the main home=base of the Company when it was in Port Nayr.
Changing his clothes from spares in his pack, and tightening up the broken links at his side, Zert gathered his gear and shield, slung the bow on his back and started on his journey to the southwest. The light had started to lessen when he had finally begun his start and ravens and crows were among the dead, He regretted not being able to bury his friends, but there were too many, and there was too much of a risk of returning Orcs or their allies. He said a silent prayer to Durgon, God of Death and Sleep, for their passing to their rewards.
For 4 more hours Zert walked on his way, scanning the rolling hills and scrub woods for any sign of raiders or humanoids. The darkening light did not detour him from seeing his way, for one benefit of what he was the ability to see in the absence of light, though it was limited. He decided to make for a small cliff that he saw just beyond a grove of pines. It was close to dusk and though he had healed himself, he was still sore from the blood loss and the bruising that stayed with a man even after the magical healing. Not even the Gods could take that away. Rawndalla especially felt that it was good to have the reminder of what has come from battle, if only to keep you on your toes and parry better.
As he came to the edge of the grove, he pulled up short. Something on the breeze got his attention. VOICES! Orcish ones at that. He knew their language, to better battle them and know their ways as he fought them in a war of no mercy. His knowledge of Orcish had helped to earn him his corporal stripes, as well as his skill with sword and spell.
Zert carefully shifted his shield up on his left arm and drew his sword silently. Thus prepared, he moved closer. Two Orcs he could make out and now close enough to hear them but not seeing them, he could understand what was being said.
" Grrr, the boy is a still whining Kask! Damn his pitiful carrying on. I say we just eat him and be done with it. " Said the first Orc.
" Shut up Sanhok! " Called back the second.
" Your just a bootlicker and a kobold Kask. We can tell the chief the brat died of fever, and he would never know. Me hungry and want fresh meat. "
The second Orc retorted. " You kill brat and Chief know. He kill YOU and eat you shit for brians. Boy is valuable. Shaman Yillo say so. You want to cross Yillo? "
Silence greeted this last, and by this time Zert had made his way to an opening in the woods. There he saw in the dusk light two regular orcs, armed with curved short swords and spears. At their feet was a small huddled bundle that Zert assumed was the boy they were talking about.
He could not leave the child do these scum, but how to do it without leaving the boy to be killed by one of the Orcs? Then a smile came to Zert's much scarred face. 'Yeah, that should work. ' A nice little directness might just work and with a charge, the Orcs might just be too distracted to even slice at the boy, Especially as they had been instructed to keep him alive by their chief and shaman.
Gathering up his remaining energy and the reserves of his anger and bloodlust against the Enemy, Zert raised his sword at the ready, and his shield was in position to parry the first blow. Right down the middle he flashed in his mind.
" ARGGGH! " he roared out. " Death to you Elf Lover!!" This was a deadly insult to any self loving Orc ( or as much as any Orc could love anything.) Zert quickly ran at a trot, his sword shifting in his hand to either parry or go for a stroke. He would go after the one on the right he decided, It was the larger of the two, as well as the one he thought might react quicker.
The two Orcs , taken by surprise, saw the huge shape coming from the shadows of the woods. Kask grabbed for his spear to meet this charge, while Sanhok tried to draw his sword as his stood up. Zert was indeed a large being, and with his cloak flowing behind him, it was hard to make out exactly how big he was. The sight of the gleaming sword and the helmeted and armored man was enough to keep their focus on the battle to come.
Zert got to Sanhok before the Orc fully had his sword drawn and first punching out with his shield to knock away the sword, he cut across the belly of the Orc. The slice went completely through the hardened leather of Sanhok's jerkin and disemboweled the Goblinoid. Sanhok screamed in pain as he dropped his blade, but Zert stepped through his stroke to ready himself for the spear of the companion Orc.
Kask was a better fighter then his dying battle mate. His spear, Dwarf made and used in many a fight, was punched out at Zert, Kask hoping to take the warrior as he cut down Sanhok. Zert barely got his shield up in time and with a trained flow of his hand, the spearhead skipped off the metal rimmed wood. Zert made a slash, but the Orc stepped back from his own thrust and the point pissed him by a few inches.
Back and forth the battle went, Zert maneuvering the orc away from his downed friend and the boy., The screams of the mortally wounded Sanhok quieted as the blood flowed out from the severed artery, but Zert paid it no mind. His sole purpose now was to keep Kask from the boy and to kill the raider and slaver.
After 2 minutes, during which Zert was able to get in a few small cuts on the spearman and suffering one thrust that bruised his still ore left side, Zert saw a chance to end the battle for once and all. Using a method taught to him by his former Captain, Zert spun close to Kask, trapping the spear between his body and shield. This gave him the chance he needed and with a back stroke of his sword, Nimlas cleaved Kask's head from brow to ear. The orc dropped immediately, his eyes still wide by the suddenness of his death.
Zert took in a breath to get in fresh air and ease the ache of his bones and muscles. Kask had been a much better warrior then he had thought in a raider. Must have been one of the sub leaders of his clan, Zert surmised. Not that it mattered now, as both Orcs were dead. getting his energy back and seeing that the boy stirred in his bonds, Zert smiled. The job of the rescue was successful. Now to see who the child was and what he could do for the lad.
Thus ends Chapter 1. More to come if no one objects too much. I am working on this still and have much more to reveal if there is interest. I also recommend my other story, Monterey Delights, in the Gay Young Friends section.
Praise me, flame me, or just tell me where I may improve or screwed up. I am more then willing to reply and we can see what the future holds. Email me at cezmail1@yahoo.com.
Thanks
Charlie