Aurion Ch. 01

"I'm here to see my Grandfather," she said, unimpressed by the two heavyweights.

"Of course, my lady." They echoed, their eyes both flashing to Michael in warning before parting to allow them passage.

The entered the Chief's tent as some sort of council meeting was already underway, most of the tribal leaders, advisors and clan heads being present. Upon their entrance, all eyes flicked to them and every action and conversation ceased quoted suddenly.

"Hello Grandfather." Talasa said after a moment, breaking the awkward silence. She spoke to an older looking Orc who was large, but not the largest Orc in the room. However, unlike some Orcs, his eyes contained the spark of wary intelligence as his eyes quickly roamed over Michael. He sat on a large throne chair made from the carved bones of various Greatbeasts and obviously very old. To his left was another old Orc dressed in dark blue and grey ceremonial robes with a leopard pelt hanging from his shoulders and Obsidian and Silver jewelry on his fingers and neck giving Michael a shocked but disapproving glare. On his right was a large warrior with customized armor and an enormous broadsword, he looked at Michael with a measuring stare.

"Hello dear, it is good to have you back with us. I see you bring company with you. I assume this is a human you took as a slave?" He responded.

"No, Grandfather. I happened upon this human in my travels. His name is Michael. I challenged him with the intention of capturing him but he bested me honestly, in unarmed combat, multiple times. It is I who am his slave." She stated without shame.

There was immediately a huge outburst of protesting voices that were almost immediately cut off by the Chief bellowing, "Leave us!". All the Orcs in the room immediately complied, leaving Michael, Talasa and

the Chief alone in his grand yurt.

The chief looked to Michael and said, "What do you have to say about this?".

"I don't understand," Michael said with a puzzled look. "everything she said truly happened."

"I don't doubt that" said the chief, "I simply thought you might have something to add."

"I did not seek to capture Talasa, it simply occurred. I am not from this land and I found myself in her path purely by chance." Michael responded.

"You do not hail from the Human lands to the

South? Where are you from then?" Asked the chief.

"A land far from here. It has yet to be discovered by the people of this land. I do not even know how I ended up in this land. I suspect I was wounded and lost in the course of a battle, as I awoke wearing battle armor with a blank spot in my memory."

"Interesting. There hasn't been a human in this land in something like fifty years. You are sure to cause quite the stir. I'm afraid you may be met with more than a lite suspicion as your timing is less than ideal. We have been suffering increasing raids from the dark Orcs to the Northeast. Our Wisemen are sure that the raids are just preparation for a whole scale invasion by the dark Orcs and their Demonic masters. There has also been an increase in Demonic beast and monster sightings. As such, you may not be greeted with the warmest welcome." The chief warned.

"Thank you, Chief." Michael answered.

"Koran. If my granddaughter is going to be bound to you, I would have you call me Koran." The chief insisted.

"Koran, then. I am Michael, it is an honor to meet you."

"Indeed, I would say the same, mysterious warrior. I would let you get settled. If there is anything you need, I am sure my granddaughter or her maid will fetch it for you. Will you be staying in Talasa's yurt or establishing one of your own?" Koran asked.

"For now, I think we will just stay in Talasa's furs. At least until we know what we plan to do."

"Very well. Also, I should warn you, you are likely to receive a few challenges. My granddaughter is very desired among Orc men and she has easily beaten all who have challenged her in the hopes of winning her. Many will have a hard time accepting the fact that she has a Human master. What is more, my eyes and my nose tell me that she is obviously more than happy with your arrangement. Frankly, it's hard for even me to believe. I never thought I would see her so blissfully content and clearly impressed with any male."

Using the opportunity to speak up, Talasa said, "It's true, Grandfather. I can scarcely believe it myself but he is everything and more that I could ever want in a male. I already count myself fortunate."

"It us a rare thing, such a quick connection, but I can see the worship in your eyes. As such, I am inclined to believe you. Either way, you must rest. You are free to go."

The two of them bowed respectfully and walked out of the chief's yurt. The crowd gathered outside stared at the pair in a mix of disbelief and suspicion as they worked their way over to Talasa's yurt, which wasn't far from the chief's.

They quickly ducked into her yurt before they any could engage them in conversation, so neither of them noticed they cold blue eyes that monitored their progress and had done so since before they even entered camp.

Talasa's maid, Rea, was startled as the pair entered but quickly rose to embrace her mistress. "Rea, it's good to see you!" Talasa said, stepping back. "This is Michael, he is our master now. You should be as proud to serve him as I am."

Rea's eyes quickly ran over Michael's sculpted form, her breath catching in her throat, she quickly bowed and scurried back. "Master." She quietly said in a deferential tone.

"Why don't the two of you help me with my armor?" Michael suggested.

"Of course, my lord."

"Yes, master."

They replied as they started to search for the release latches and buckles. Michael unsnapped his sword belt and removed his bow and arrows on his own, setting them down next to the pile of furs used as a bed.

"I'm sure we are both quite tired and you are probably quite sore, so we will probably refrain from having too much fun tonight." He said.

"Yes, my lord, I am indeed very sore. However, Rea here would be happy to be at your service." Talasa said, Rea meanwhile simply blushed furiously and gave a terribly cute smile as the two of them sank down to remove the greaves that protected his shins.

"I'll have to keep that in mind, my lovely Orc lass." quipped Michael with a silent wink at Rea, who was herself quite shapely and curvaceous. The fact that she was much shorter than most Orc females only enhanced the look. Her short black hair framed a deceptively innocent face, though there was certainly a hint of the devil in those eyes.

As the the two She-Orcs finished removing his armor, Michael plopped down on the furs with a sigh, "At ease, ladies." He said, when they simply looked at his lounging form with expecting expressions.

Talasa and Rea both quickly payed down on both sides of Michael, eagerly snuggling into his sides only to realize that he was already lightly dosing. They both simply shrugged to each other and closed their eyes, resting their heads against their new master.

It was only a couple hours later when Michael awoke suddenly, fully rested. As he extricated himself from the pile of limbs, breasts and fur he couldn't put his finger on the sensation that woke him.

He quietly exited the tent, careful to not wake Talasa or Rea. The night sky was full of stars yet the moon was notably absent. He made his way through the subdued camp as to the outer wagons that ringed the encampment. It was barely a minute later when he said, "Can't sleep?", startling the figure silently approaching his hear.

"No. Sleeplessness is an old man's prerogative." Koran answered, crossing the remaining distance without the attempted stealth with which he had been previously attempting. "What is your excuse?"

"Sleep actually found me quickly, it simply wasn't long in its grip." Michael responded. "I do not know what woke me."

"I do sense evil doings this night. Perhaps it was the same sense that disturbs your slumber?"

"Do you speak in generalities, or do you particularly mention the dark Orcs?" Michael questioned.

"A bit of both, I suppose. What do you know of the dark Orcs?" the chief asked.

"I know they are slaves to Demonic overlords. I know they Harry your borders, raid your lands and you fear they prepare for an invasion. As you mentioned. Beyond that, I know little of the politics of this land."

"I suppose you already possess the relevant information. I have not voiced my concern that we may not have the strength to beat this threat. My generation, in the past, believed isolation to be our greatest defense. Now, however, I fear it may be our downfall. It will likely only be our destruction that makes the rest of Aurion sit up and realize that the entire continent, indeed the world, is at risk. Even if they realized sooner, few would be inclined to help the Orcs defend our lands from the invaders. Indeed, they would probably even welcome the time our slaughter would buy them." Lamented Koran, as they both gazed out over the forest surrounding the perimeter of wagons.

"I feared as much. However, I have been pondering the situation since I learned of it. I have sworn an oath to fight darkness and purge evil where I find it, it is one of the few things I know at the moment. The fact that these dark Orcs are being led by Demonic masters puts them right in my domain. I begin to consider the possibility that I was sent here for a reason, one which may involve my inevitable confrontation with the evil invading this world." Said Michael.

"So, you would help us? I'm grateful for the gesture and I'm sure you are very skilled but I don't see how your sword will make much difference." Worried Koran.

"I have a feeling a may suppose you yet, old man." Michael responded with a wry smile, "but even if I don't, I intend to raise an army. Do not fret, I will not leave your lands barren of strong fighting men, even if they would follow me. No, I will gather men. Men and any other races that wish to defend their homelands by our sides."

"I wish you luck but I fear that such a thing will not be easily accomplished." Koran said.

"I expect not." Was Michael's simple reply.

They both sat silently for a while, simply staring out into the darkness. Suddenly, Michael tensed, "Alert the Warriors, there's going to be an attack, now! Quietly, go,

they won't listen to me!" Michael urged, at Koran's puzzled expression.

"Are you sure...?" He hesitated.

"Yes, there is darkness descending on this camp in but a moment. Go!" Michael insisted, and the chief was off to silently raise the alarm.

Michael himself quickly made his way back to the Talasa's yurt. He stepped in and quickly woke the girls as he swiftly strapped on his armor and weapons.

"What is it, my lord?"

Talasa asked.

"The camp is about to be attacked. There isn't time to explain. Just get your weapons and prepare yourselves for battle." He urged.

Talasa nodded and quickly strapped on a belt holding two shortswords and a quiver stuffed full of arrows, after sliding on a long sleeve chainmail coat that was lined with thick black fur. Rea promptly secured a tunic made from thick, boiled leather covered in overlapping steel scales styled to look like a snake's scales. The garment left her arms completely exposed with the exception of a bracer on her left arm, in favor of her primary weapon. She smoothly brandished a beautiful longbow, made from smooth blue wood and taller than Rea's body, thin steel blades protruding past the nocks, mounted on the ears of the bow. Such a prize would be doubly valuable amongst the Mountain Orcs, as the blue Ironwood only grows far to the north, as well as rare, for the fact that Orcs in general favor thick crossbows, requiring less time to train and finesse to operate. A large quiver was strapped to her back, filled with several colors of fletched arrows. When Michael turned back to Talasa, she had picked up a large crossbow in addition to the composite recurve bow slung over her shoulder.

"You ladies ready? Make sure you bring any silver or silver painted arrows, if you have any. Always helpful to have on hand when going against Daemon forces." Michael said.

"I have some silver painted broadheads and a couple solid silver bodkins in my quiver." Rea answered.

"Half dozen silver painted barbed broadheads." Responded Talasa.

"That'll have to work. Talasa, I want you to send some people to carry any oil and pitch you guys have in camp to the outer wagons. Rea, I want you to guard Talasa and make sure she doesn't get herself killed." Michael said.

"But... What about your safety, master?" Rea said, finally speaking up.

"I'll be fine, love. I fully intend to get aquatinted with you... Much more thoroughly." He said with a wink, causing her to blush a severe purple despite the impending threat.

Michael quickly ran to find the chief near where they had sat earlier in conversation. He noticed not a few dirty looks from Orcs who surely didn't trust his warning and obviously thought their chief in fault for listening to him.

"Chief, I think it would be a good idea to tip these wagons in their sides. It would offer more of a barricade to the dark Orcs and whatever else they throw at us."

The chief hesitated but eventually turned and issued the orders, to the chagrin of all those in earshot. Within moments, all down the line, wagons were turned on their sides as large baskets of the thick crossbow bolts favored by the Orcs were brought up along with piles of long thrusting spears to be used defending the make shift barricades. Most of the Orc warriors were already armed with longswords and battle axes. The women and noncombatants carried hatchets, hunting bows or extra crossbows.

Talasa approached a moment later and informed them that the large vats of oil had been carried up to the outer wagon ring. "Good. On my signal, make sure they know to dump the vats over the wagons, but not light them until I say."

She nodded and moved off, shadowed by Rea, who looked strangely confident for a maid in the middle of battle preparations. Michael was turning to speak to Koran when a warrior a few wagons down sprouted an arrow from the front of his throat, quickly followed by several more to silently fall to the arrows before the officers realized what was happening and ordered the fighters to take cover behind wagons and shields.

Michael drew his bow and nocked an incendiary arrow before quickly standing up and loosing into the darkness. There was a visible burst of flame and shower of sparks as several small fires were started and the Orcs got a look at the enemy creeping through the forest around their position. On Koran's instructions, several arrows wrapped in oiled cloth were distributed before being lit and shot in a volley. The flaming arrows rained down amongst the trees, lighting branches, sticking in trunks, and striking exposed enemy fighters, many of whom burst into flames with an unexpected swiftness. The flames lit up the forest surrounding the wagon laager, allowing the first good look at their enemy.

As expected, there were dark Orcs, but surprisingly there was also humans mixed amongst the enemy lines. However, the majority were tall, lean, thinly furred beasts on two legs with clawed hands and high ankles feet. Their general strong canine appearance was betrayed by the piteous whines and yelps that came from their thick fanged snouts. Most of them carried clubs or hatchet, though a few were armed with bows or spears. They were covered by nothing but loin clothes, the majority of their mangy, oily fur exposed. They were the Han. Foul, hated Hyena-Men. Faster, stronger and fiercer than men, with a sense of smell rivaling a Boar's. They were fairly simple beasts though, and in daylight their eyesight was poor. The Han were not demons themselves but rather fiercely loyal slaves to several Demon Lords. They gave an inhuman shriek and charged forward with a clamor.

Koran yelled, "Archers! Prepare to fire on my command. Aim at head level and reload as soon as you fire. Now, ready... Loose!"

The archers and crossbow men loosed their projectiles, their slightly elevated position allowing for a better field of fire. The first few lines of charging enemies were cut down by the wall of projectiles, though more took their places. Three more times Koran ordered volleys that slammed into the enemy before he gave the order to lower spears in defense of the barricade. Michael continued to fire arrows at an amazing pace long after the others had abandoned their bows to man the barricades against the Han who were suicidally throwing themselves into the spears and swords of the Orcs. Oddly, the enemy dark Orcs stood at the rear of the lines using crossbows to fire bolts at anyone who attempted to rally the defending troops, instead of their normal mad rush to melee. The humans allied with the dark Orcs were nowhere to be seen.

Michael quickly ran down the line until he found Talasa directing the defense of her part of the wagon line. "Talasa! Send the order for the oil vats to be dumped." He yelled.

Moments later thick oil and Pine pitch was running, splashing and puddling across the solid rock ground as it's tide advanced down the slight slope into and amongst the enemy ranks, unnoticed. It was just then that humans approached the battle through the enemy lines, carrying large crates like litters. Inhuman snarls and powerful snaps emanated from each crate and several men struggled under the burden of each crate. Once they neared the lines, the men set the crates down, quickly retrieving their weapons from the tops of the covered crates. These men's faces and heads were covered in black wraps and their bodies covered in thick black leather armor with bronze torques covering the torsos and long, wrist mounted blades protruding like huge curbed claws. These blades prevented the men from wielding a bow or successfully using sword and shield. As a result, they fought with pole arms, their poleaxes long and heavy. Thrust like spears or swung like an axe, these weapons had the reach and power to carve even a shield wall apart. On their backs they carried a harness with a bundle of short javelins, equipped more like assassins than warriors. While each group of men quickly passed around a bundle of green plants, rubbing it into their clothes and armor, one of their number stepped up besides each crate before hefting his poleaxes over a shoulder and swinging it down onto the bronze chain securing the gate of each crate.

The crate doors dropped and out of each box walked a nightmare unseen by all but one of the defending force. "Cerberus.", whispered Michael. "Rea! Quickly, you must go to the healers or herbalists and see if there is any Monkshood in camp. If there is, squeeze as much juice as you can out of the roots and use it to coat the heads of as many arrows as possible. Go no!" He instructed. She quickly was off towards the center of the camp.

Talasa looked aghast at the beasts slinking forward from each crate. Even on all-fours, their heads had to be at least five feet off the ground. They were larger than a Direwolf but they had gleaming, curved black claws on their feet, intelligence in their eyes and movements more reminiscent of a large Feline than those of an oversized, jet-black wolf. However, the most terrifying aspect of their appearance was the fact that each of the horrible beasts had three snarling heads growing from their large, thick necked bodies. As they quickly moved to jump forward, Michael had Talasa give the signal and thrown torches ignited the oil and pitch that had worked its way among the feet of the enemy as well as being splashed, wiped and rubbed around other areas of their body as they unknowingly fought amongst it in the dark. With a huge "woosh" the flames jumped to life, immediately engulfing most of the enemy line and, more urgently, stopping the Cerberus' advance. More than half of th were consumed by the fire and most of the rest pulled back out of instinct just far enough not to burn. However, three of the three headed beasts made it through the flames and over the barricade to fall on the defending Orcs from within their line. They were all quickly surrounded and many fell, especially the youths and Champions who sought to gain fame and respect from the slaying of such fearsome, and better yet unknown, beast. There were many who landed blows but the skin of the Cerberus was much harder than a normal Wolf and their muscles much denser. As a result, the three intruding and surrounded monsters were often cut but seldom truly wounded. Michael put a silver painted, barbed three-bladed arrow through all three heads of the Cerberus about to rip the left arm off of Koran's Warchief that he had seen beside the chief earlier. As Michael moved away from the outer ring and further into the camp, he chances a quick look at the situation.