Chapter 1: Lexx needs a new battle-axe
The pine forest was stained an angry red as the sun rose above it, the boughs and trunks creaking gently in the summer breeze. It would have been a beautiful sight if it were being viewed by the type of being who appreciated that type of beauty. However the rough camp at the forest's edge was not filled with that type of being. The camp's construction had already required the clearing of a large portion of the wood; trees felled, trunks formed into a crude perimeter wall, branches and boughs used to make shelters, stumps becoming seats around campfires. The smell of pine mingled with smoke and pine pitch. It was not beautiful, it was utilitarian, hastily built and obviously intended for war. It was an Orc camp.
Lexx stretched and arched her back as she roused on her bed of pine needles and skins. She crawled, still half naked, out of the shelter hoping for the warming rays of the sun and possibly a hot beverage at the cook-hut. Standing and stretching again, she enjoyed the sun on her sea green skin. Her chestnut colored hair was tinged with red, rare for an Orc, shaved down to the skin on the sides of her scalp and pulled into a pair of tight braids that hung halfway down her back. Like all Orc females, Lexx had a good mix of lean muscle and just a bit of softness to her figure. Powerful shoulders and biceps, pectoral muscles suited to swinging an axe were paired with some level of femininity. Medium sized breasts were capped with darker green nipples, each pierced with a silver bar, a steel arrowhead dangled from the left bar. Her back curved downward to an exceptionally ample backside covered by a slim loincloth.
Lexx caught the eye of another Orc warrior and raised her chin, displaying her tusks in a shared cultural greeting. The warrior returned the greeting, letting his eyes linger on her curves. Lexx simply enjoyed the appreciative eye. Deciding to get on with her day, she reached into her pine bough lean-to and pulled out the small bag of her personal effects. Orcs, being a practical, nomadic people, tended towards few personal belongings, and Lexx was no different. Her bag was small, made of deer skin and decorated with the skulls of birds and small mammals, much like her loincloth. Among it's contents were a pair of rough sandals, small trophies from her few past battles, a comb made from antler spikes, an iron knife and fork and a whet stone.
The cords holding the bag closed were wrapped around the handle of her weapon. A single handed ax with a well worn handle and slightly rusting head, it was an impromptu choice. The warband had been assembled quickly from several tribes, the ceremonial combat trials to choose an overall leader had only lasted a night. Lexx had chosen the hatchet from a pile of the losers' weapons, not wanting to be left behind or be forced to wield a sharp rock in battle. On the long trek from their homeland to their current encampment, Lexx had become very attached to the blade, dreaming of the day she would finally wield it in battle and bring honor to her tribe. She set the ax back inside her shelter and pulled her sandals out of her bag, wrapping the leather thongs around and up to her calves. It was time to eat.
The cook-hut was at the center of camp. Every Orc was expected to contribute to the camp's collective food stores, bringing whatever they had gathered, trapped or scavenged on the march. Any small villages or settlements along the way were inevitably raided for supplies and prisoners. Once a location was chosen for camp, the cook-hut was among the first structures to be built, dedicated hunters would take up sling and spear to secure a more significant food source. Meanwhile prisoners, taken on the path to war, would be herded to nearby streams and ponds to supply fresh water. Today smoke billowed from the hut, wafting smells of venison and wild fowl across camp.
Lexx tested the air with her nose and sighed her appreciation, "Ahhh, fresh meat."
Taking a place in line, Lexx grabbed a bowl from a particularly large pine stump doubling as a table. The line moved rapidly and Lexx soon found her bowl filled with a steaming stew of various meats and wild tubers. A clay cup filled with a dark, hot beverage, brewed from local flora, was pushed into her free hand and she was told to keep moving. She greedily gobbled down the stew, no spoon needed and guzzled the brew, some of each spilling onto her still bare chest. The slight hot sting to her breasts actually brought a smile to her face as it reminded her of a particularly rough coupling she had shared with another warrior at the warband's last camp.
As soon as the last piece of timber in their previous encampment had been placed Lexx had found a willing and quite able partner and they rutted in the dirt like animals. Working off the stress and boredom of the long march had left her with a few bruises that were still visible. Her partner had been very enthusiastic, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her head down as he speared his cock into her pussy over and over. Her eyes crossed as she moaned and her new mate grunted along with most of the camp. His cock had spread and stretched her delightfully and she pushed herself up onto all fours as he pounded her pussy. Lexx had felt her orgasm building and could tell by his increasing pace that her mate was drawing close as well. The Orc warrior grabbed her hips and slammed into her pussy one final time, grunting appreciatively at her tightness.
He roared out and buried his cock deep inside Lexx, spilling his seed. The feeling of his cock filling her up and seed spilling out past her lips pushed Lexx over the edge. Her pussy clenched and flooded, her arms gave out and her face hit the ground, ass in the air. Her partner collapsed on top of her before they both rolled to the side. The two Orcs had lain, basking in their orgasms, Lexx eventually rousing to find something to eat. It was a very pleasant memory, though she had failed to learn the warrior's name before, during or after their union, Orcs rarely having permanent or even long term sexual partners. Still it had been very enjoyable and Lexx made a note to seek him out again.
By now Lexx had worked the stiffness of sleep out of her body while wandering through camp. She soon found herself in the section of the camp occupied by the Iron Bears, an Orc tribe renowned for it's skill in metalwork. Their banners flew everywhere displaying a bear's head swallowing a bar of iron, almost half of the huts and lean-tos were occupied by anvils of varying sizes and fronted by weapon and armor racks. Lexx was stopped dead in her tracks as she came to a particular hut, front and center in it's collection of weaponry was a beautiful battle-axe. It had a long two-handed grip topped by a broad, double-bitted head, a proper Orc weapon. Her little, single-handed hatchet back in her lean-to already seemed a distant memory as she gazed at the weapon. Looking around, she saw the weapons were unattended and decided to see how the axe felt in her hands. Hefting the two-handed weapon, Lexx flexed her shoulders and gave a few test swings, soon performing sweeping arcs through the air.
"Do you approve of my craft?", a gravelly voice at her back said. "The iron in this land is of poor quality, it takes more effort to make a decent blade."
Lexx turned to see the voice's owner, a male Orc, a full head taller than her, with the Iron Bear symbol tattooed across his chest and a bowl of stew in his hand. He was of a slightly slimmer build than the average Orc, the burn scars on his arms and the hammer hanging from his belt clearly marked him as a smith. His black hair formed a single narrow braid down the center of his head.
Lexx responded, still holding the axe and gazing at its gleaming head, "It's wonderful, I've always wanted a proper war blade."
The smith stepped past her, taking a gulp of his breakfast before setting the bowl down on his anvil and taking a seat beside it. He took up a half finished blade and examined it with a tired look in his eyes, obviously having spent the night working at his forge. He continued speaking to Lexx as he eyed his work.
"Arhak, my name's Arhak. Iron Bear."
As though she hadn't figured that out for herself.
"If you really like the axe I'm open to a trade." This he said with an upward glance, the slightest note of exasperation in his voice.
