Orc

Note: Welcome to the wonderful topsy-turvy world of erotica where violence is a greater taboo than sexy sex! (Which is kind of how it should be in real life. Yay, politics!) At this point in the story some plot needs to happen in order to change Misty's circumstances and hopefully keep things fresh. As is customary in the fantasy genre, this often happens via the form of peril. I have a tendency to write my violence as gratuitous as I do my sex, so consider yourself fairly warned.

*****

The cold blade pressed firmly against Misty's throat brought forth an excess of goose-bumps on her flesh making the girl dumbly wonder whether it was the fear or the temperature that was the main culprit. She doubted that the dispassionate dwarf who was seizing her by the hair in order to bend her backwards far enough to place the steel against her cared either way.

There were three of them. Dwarf Blood Hunters dressed in leather armor and unnerving confidence. The largest, though still a foot shorter than the human girl, was the one that held her with an uncompromising grip and was armed to the teeth.

The other two were conversing hurriedly in their own tongue, occasionally shooting her hard glances. One was well groomed and wore an extravagant sash over his armor which denoted him as the ambassador. The last of them was the shortest and slightest of the three and looked at Misty like she was already dead. She noticed, from the higher lilt in her gruff voice a firm bust and despite the beard, that she was a woman. Judging by the occult effects she carried she was also the tracker.

That meant the dwarf holding her was the executioner.

They had caught her without any difficulty outside the Bard and Bell, the tavern in which Misty had just barely managed to wrangle a job from. The sun had been setting extravagantly and in the brief moment before she spotted them she had been feeling a melancholic pride in herself for her determination. She had come from a final magical rut with the orc who she now knew as Roaji, yet instead of moping she had returned home for a brief clean up before getting the fuck on with her life. A life that was almost certain to be over before the sun rose again.

She had seen Blood Hunters pass through the town before and had always done her best to stay well clear and avoid their piercing accusatory gazes. Orcs were not meant to ever be spoken of, however when they were it would usually be in the same sentence as the hunters. Blood Hunters always operated in threes and their sole purpose was to hunt and kill orcs and all humans that had dealings with them that were not provably hostile. It was doubtful that fucking an orc roughly counted as hostile enough.

Misty had not screamed, though she instantly knew that they were there for her, to do so would have been more likely to draw a bloodthirsty, self-righteous mob than garner her any aid. Instead she had attempted to calmly flee only to be apprehended in an alley not a block away.

Struggling had immediately proved useless and only served to get a long curved dagger pressed against her neck.

So here she was, captive and guilty as merciless Blood Hunters argued over how to kill her. Misty was numb with terror and helplessness, and far too emotionally exhausted to begin sobbing. She had heard that dwarfs set up public trials and executions for their prisoners and decided she would rather be cut down on the spot than endure the public pleasure at her pain. The girl was pondered how to make enough nuisance of herself to stoke the Hunters' ire when unwanted thoughts came to her.

Roaji. It struck her with more relief than she expected that the orc was probably packing up his makeshift lair to leave and that the dwarfs would likely miss him. Unless she did something stupid like get herself killed and allow the dwarfs to immediately begin their pursuit. Misty bloody mindedly battled the dread fueled stupor within her and tried to think.

Guiltily she first thought of Kentin. He may have been able to wheedle some deal for, yet she had no idea where he might be or even if he would be willing to help after she had sexually cornered him yesterday. Hen on the other hand, though he was a dwarf, might be able to do something. He had made no secret of his disdain of his brethren's policies and she knew he was fond enough of her not to stand idle were she in trouble.

Misty was in middle of gathering enough courage to speak up when she realized that the ambassador was already talking to her, "Calm down girly and tell us your name," he spoke in perfect kingish.

Unprepared, she stammered when she said, "Take me to Hen."

The dwarf furrowed his thick waxed eyebrows in confusion, "Hen? I think you mistake the severity of your situation. You are in a great deal of trouble and we are certainly not going to a farm."

"What? No, Hen. The liaison," she added with an authority she did not feel, "I demand to be taken to him."

The dwarf holding her snorted in laughter and bit out a handful of words in dwarfish. Misty was really getting tired of being mono-lingual.

"Kingish please, Hidriht, for the benefit of the young lady."

The executioner grumbled some more words in his own tongue and gave her hair a sharp painful tug to no doubt accentuate his point.

The ambassador responded calmly in dwarfish before returning his attention to the human, "I apologize. My companions are somewhat lacking in the social graces. What my colleague was saying was that unfortunately your town's liaison has been relieved of his duties."

Misty's blood went cold, "What did you do to him?"

"Now, girly. You have yet to answer my question. Before we discuss your situation in depth we must observe some civilized niceties. My name is Yenix, would you be so kind as to grace us with your own?"

For a couple of heartbeats Misty considered lying, but she had plenty of experience of being asked trick questions by those wanting to lord their power over her and this question had the smell of a bluff to her. Besides she desperately wanted to know what had happened with Hen and playing games with her captors was unlikely to gain her any favors, "My name is Misty."

"Good," Yenix smiled a mouthful of bright white teeth through his dark beard, "Now. Do you understand who we are and why we are here?"

"You're orc hunters," she said slowly.

"More or less. And would you be so kind as to enlighten us as to why we came to you?"

She swallowed, "I want to speak to Hen."

The tracker who had been preparing a torch, lit it and stood behind Yenix casting his face into an artificial shadow, "Alas," he spoke calmly, "your liaison is detained and in leave of his consciousness. He unwisely met our inquiry with hostility and so we were forced to relieve him of his position."

A sole tear ran down Misty's cheek and she had to choke back a sob as neither her numbness nor resolve were enough to dull the pain of the dagger in her heart. Hen had fought for her and she had been completely ignorant of the struggle that had taken place on her behalf. Now he had lost everything and the responsibility she felt crushed her like a physical weight. She actually slumped a little and the executioner, Hidriht, had to push her back up.

Yenix resumed speaking in his calm, assured voice, "I understand that this is a lot-"

"Fuck you!" Misty surprised even herself at her rage fuelled outburst as she pushed towards the ambassador.

The dwarf holding her reacted quickly, pressing the knife against her neck with enough pressure to break skin and send a light flow of blood down her throat. He yanked her backwards and growled threateningly into her ear, the bristles of his beard scratching her cheek. Misty stilled, but glared venom. She had managed to fluster Yenix and the tracker quirked a cruel smile.

"Well... quite," the diplomat sighed, "As I was saying; I can empathize with the difficulty of your situation. We are aware that you have been ah... sexually intimate with an orc which is a very serious crime. However, we do not know whether or not your encounter was consensual or not and that could make all the difference for you." Misty knew what was coming even as he continued, "Were you to aid in locating the rogue, I am sure we could be convinced of the latter and the severity of your punishment could be lessened significantly."

She very almost told the dwarf to go fuck himself again when a bleak inspiration struck her. If the Blood Hunters did indeed need her help she might be able to mislead or at least slow them down and give Roaji a better chance of escaping. Though she was no expert she knew well enough that any human caught in Blood Hunter business would end up dead. Hen himself had told her that their main weapon was fear and that they would foster it above all other sentiments.

So she told Yenix what he wanted to hear, "I don't want to die."

He patted her shoulder and Misty forced herself not to flinch away, "And you will not, young lady. Under the provision that, with your assistance, we catch the orc."

The girl nodded and allowed herself to be led from the alley and into the night. She wondered what was wrong with her that she was now risking her life for a creature that was more beast than man. No, that was not fair; he had proved to be sensitive and thoughtful. And just as confusing and aggravating as any other man. If she was going to die, she supposed she wanted to do so for a reason.

The roads leading out of the town were thankfully mostly quiet; the lamps were being lit and some were going about their final business of the day, but most were indoors, either at home or at tavern. Misty kept her head down regardless, making sure not to meet anyone's eyes lest her resolve crack. The tracker set about preparing and lighting a torch before unceremoniously shoving it into Yenix's hands.

"Many thanks, Verity," he said drolly.

The hunter grumbled before stalking to the front of their funereal procession. They quickly arrived at the town's muddy trade gate whereupon the lone guard there hurriedly brought himself to attention at their approach. Misty recognized him as one of her lad's father; an affable and laid back man who had never given her any trouble and on occasion even covered for her when she came calling on his son. She liked him and having him see her like this roused an awkward shame within her.

"Uh... greetings," he spoke as they formed a line in front of him, then upon recognizing the captive, "Misty? Misty is that you?"

She could only meet his gaze for half a second before having to look away, the urge to plead for help being too great. If he did try, he would only implicate himself and end up sharing her fate, yet she irrationally hoped that he would.

The ambassador spoke up before the guard could make a decision, "Ho! We wish to make passage. Kindly open yonder portal so that we may make haste!"

There was a long pause before he replied, "Sorry, but the Trade Gate is closed after sundown."

That was a lie. Misty risked a glance at the father to receive a conflicted and frightened face. Was he actually trying to stall them?

Yenix fished a large silver coin from a pocket and made a show of carefully examining it, "Alas, such a delay would be highly undesirable as our business is urgent. Perhaps an understanding could be reached?" he flicked the coin at the guard who fumbled, failing to catch it.

He stared dumbly at the coin as it sank lazily into the mud, Misty recognized it as dwarf metal with value enough to feed a family for a month. The guard visibly and audibly swallowed. She could sympathize with his conundrum and the futility of it and was surprised when he began backing towards his post wherein his weapons lay.

It was only a single stride away, however the tracker was on him before he was in arm's length and he was stopped cold by a wicked knife pressed to his gut. The height difference between them was comical, almost two feet, but no one was laughing. The guard let out a choking cry as she shoved him into the wall behind then flung the blade. Misty turned away sharply before the sickening thud.

All was still except the dreadful pounding of her heart, then Verity roared in kingish, "Open!"

The knife was embedded in the stone wall less than an inch from the father's head. He was not dead! Misty exhaled shakily and tried to think of a way not to make the situation worse. She did not get the chance though as the guard scrambled for the pulley, opening the gate as quick as he was able. Hidriht gave her a rough nudge and all but the tracker moved through.

"Many thanks," Yenix said cheerfully, "Come along, Verity. We shall revisit this instance upon our return."

The hunter, keeping her eyes fixed on the trembling guard all the while, stomped over to the wall where the blade was still stuck just above her reach. Sparing only an instance to gauge the position of the knife, before returning her steady glare on the father, she slapped the brickwork with one palm causing a jagged crack to shoot up to the dagger pushing it out and depositing it into her other. Then, without a backwards glance she marched out to join her companions and captive.

As the group trudged down the road towards a fork, Misty heard the heavy gate slam shut behind them. Though she tried not to begrudge the guard his cowardice it was hard to ignore the pain of having someone she had respected turning his back on when she needed help the most. Besides his probably dead son, he also had a wife and younger daughter he was responsible for, did that make his betrayal ok? Was it even a betrayal when they were merely friendly acquaintances?

"Which way to the orc?" the ambassador cut off her train of thought.

To the left lay a track that would lead past the Meadow of Bloody Tears from where a winding trail could be picked up towards the lone dwarf hole where Roaji had made residence. Misty pointed right, "That way."

"Lie," Verity snarled in kingish.

The executioner growled and placed his dagger against her rapidly pulsing artery and Misty went even whiter than she was before, "No," she whispered.

Yenix barked at Hidriht and all three dwarfs began a heated discussion in their own tongue. How had the tracker known? Surely Roaji would not have used the human roads to get around? Was Verity, psychic? Could she smell a lie? Whatever it was, the question had almost certainly been a test, which she had failed and lost any trust she could have used as leverage. Misty quietly cursed, she was now well and truly fucked.

****

Surprisingly, three hours later, with the moons high and the dwarfs' torch burning low, Misty was still alive. Verity had picked up a trail that had led into the Meadow of Bloody Tears, then back out and then back in again in a horrendous pattern of zig-zags and criss-crosses. With the exception of the ambassador the dwarfs' tempers were growing increasingly short, to the point where Hidriht had very almost thrown the human at Yenix and deigned speak kingish to threaten her with death if she tried to run.

For her part, Misty had stayed completely silent after being caught in her lie; she had figured that it was her best defence as she had no way of knowing how much they actually knew. Where the orc actually was, was thankfully still within the ignorant category and the girl wanted to keep it that way. Misty was impressed that Roaji seemed to have that part covered by himself though. One of her boys, his father a trapper, had taught her some basic woodsman's knowledge and she understood enough to realize that the orc had at some point been busy with making a maze of his tracks.

Unfortunately she knew that if the dwarfs found where she and Roaji had original met, and fucked, that the tracker would almost certainly spot where the orc had picked her up and carried her off. So Misty kept her eyes down and her mouth shut, and bided her time. She did not know for what; running and or hiding would be futile with the dwarfs' legendary stamina and skill. Perhaps that big lizard monster would show up and gobble them up, the thought brought a hopeless smile to her lips.

"You find this predicament amusing, girl?" Yenix asked, catching her unawares.

The girl stifled her crazy and went back to her best rock impersonation, ignoring the question. The ambassador huffed for a moment, clearly growing as impatient as his companions, before adopting a tone Misty recognized from her beleaguered childhood teachers, "Tell me Misty. Do you understand the import of our, and by 'our' I mean all of dwarfkind and its representative hunters, task?"

Yenix cleared his throat importantly before continuing, "We are who maintain the law, the balance and above all, the peace. Treaties were formed long before you or I were born. Treaties signed by both the dwarfs and by the orcs in order to bring order and to protect you humans, young and innocent as you were. You see; the gods, in their boundless avarice set the three noble races against each other in a contest of schemes and wars over who would control humankind."

As the dwarf went on Misty was growing increasingly torn between telling him to shove the sanctimonious crap back down his throat or talking with him to stave off the fatalistic thoughts that were thundering through her mind. It was a close fought conflict, but she chose the latter; her temporary vow of silence was growing old anyway and she really, really wanted to stop thinking about how she would probably never see the next sunrise.

"And you won," she finished the dwarfs tale for him.

The ambassador's expression was a mix of glee, no doubt from the fact he was not talking to himself anymore, and surprise, "What? No, no, you misunderstand. The dwarfs did not win, they chose not to play."

"But..." that did not make sense, "dwarfs have all the power."

"I can certainly see from your perspective how it might seem that way," Yenix paused for a moment, "Many things have happened since the gods began their sport of mortal suffering. We dwarfs now find ourselves in the position of stewardship over the known world, yet it was not always that way. For almost a - Forgive me, let me give you a brief and sadly inadequate abbreviation of the last four hundred years. When the noble races were first set against each other, only the elves decided to accept the challenge. The dwarfs and orcs formed an alliance and after too much bloodshed, defeated them."

The girl had been taught as much at school, though no mention had been made of the orcs' involvement; only that the dwarfs had fought in defence of the human kingdoms and crushed the elven aggressors, "You fought with the orcs?"

"Oh yes. Back when the orcs could have been considered a singular 'the'. As yonder then, the orcs were a great culture and their cities were incomparable in their beauty."

Misty found herself genuinely curious, "What happened then?"

"The Curse happened, young lady. The gods, as well as setting the noble races against each other, gave each a unique affliction. The dwarfs were able to and still do weather their geas, however the orcs have not been so fortunate. Following the war, over the period of a hundred years, their curse poisoned their society; destroying it and eventually leaving the orcs as the disparate nomadic race they are now. A shadow of their former selves, unable to take their rightful place as partners in our stewardship."

The girl found this all to be a lot to take in; she had never heard of this 'curse'. Her first selfish feeling was panic over whether or not it was contagious. She wanted to know how such events had been allowed to happen, what these curses were and whether or not the dwarf was even telling her the truth. However, with a sinking feeling, even in the thick darkness she realized her surroundings had become scarily familiar and that the party was barely a hundred paces away from where she and Roaji had first met. She had to swallow a fresh surge of panic in order to think, thus it was not too much of a stretch to decide on distraction in the form of hysterics.