Ranger Chronicles Ep. 02

Since then Drugi had grown tall and strong -- strong enough for the Nimiri family to dub him Warchief. Since then he'd plotting in silence and with patience. He'd been playing dumb to these dishonorable, psychotic Drow for years, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill every Drow he could find in the damned mountain.

Thankfully, Drugi's mother, a Warmaiden of quick mind, had burned the Mammoth's Tusk, the Giant's Penis, and Crow's Feet on the Altar to Balthazar to ensure Drugi was to be born with quick mind. Drugi was not dumb like the other Orcs. He could think, apply reasoning, and sustain focus. He'd mastered the skills the Drow called 'mathematics' and 'Alchemy.' He'd done what they'd asked, whether that be fucking Elves and Humans or subduing a rowdy tribe. He'd put down slave rebellions he was sure wouldn't succeed, acquiring a degree of trust with the Clans. The preparations were now complete: he'd rallied the other tribes to his call and they'd agreed to a plan. The Black-Bloods, Rock-Beasts, and Wolf-Teeth accepted Drugi's leadership, and thus Anger-Beast hegemony, on the condition of freedom once back on the Plains. The battles with the Rangers had stopped, so most of the Orcs were in Garthrand itself. Drugi estimated there was at least 2 Orcs for every Drow in Garthrand. It was the perfect time to begin the carnage. His hands tightened further. He began to grow erect just thinking of carnage.

Be patient, Drugi. Wait for the signal.

Yet he knew a poorly-timed revolt would be put down by mercilessly by the Ghosts. He needed an ally. A small group to distract the Ghosts and prevent them from attacking their rear while he rallied the Tribes. He'd considered arming some of the Human and Elf slaves for the job but realized that would never work. The Drow had beat the will out of them years ago. They were nothing but soulless husks now. He'd resolved to send a small group of Anger-Beasts to do the job but stopped when the Nimiri clan had brought his attention to the new slave, Kalan.

The human had demonstrated his ability on the battlefield and his will by subduing the two Warmaidens in the arena, something Drugi himself would have trouble doing. Even while using magic, it was impressive for a human to match a Warmaiden on the battlefield. He and his men would make fine allies. The Nimiri Clan had taken him to their chamber near the Arena, yet he knew it just a matter of time before he broke out. Just in case he needed help, Drugi had sent Mazi and Gami, the two Warmaidens he'd broken. Now all he needed was a signal to confirm Kalan had begun his part. A crackle of magic, a clang of blades, anything.

"The captured Humans are dangerous!" Said a Drow across the table. "Have your daughter kill the thing before it kills us."

"Are you mad?!" Asked another. "Interrogate him first -- then kill him. I'm sure the Rangers have plots upon plots for us just waiting to be discovered."

Jhulstra Nimiri replied:

"My daughter seems to be entranced with him I'm afraid. She has always liked dangerous men -- Drow or otherwise." These Drow were so idiotic sometimes. Why wouldn't the Warmaiden be attracted to the Warchief? It would be strange if she wasn't. "Yet you exaggerate. His men certainly would stand no chance at killing us with the Ghosts, Orcs, and all of Garthrand in the way. The Blood of the Ancients is strong in him. If we breed him well with our strongest, we could make significant advances in our mission of regaining our strength and creating a new army. The children sired from that union would be legendary in both magic and blade! In a generation we could turn Skywatch to dust and end the ways of Tyr!"

A sudden crackle sounded in his ears. The Drow across the table looked across the room for something. Drugi couldn't sense it but knew they'd felt an uptick in mana. The Battle-Human had begun his escape -- it was time for the Drugi to play role.

It has begun.

Xun the Elder spoke:

"Was that a surge of mana?! You s--" Drugi's hammer smashed against the Drow's head and through the stone table. The table shattered, forming a large hole of cracked stone dotted with blood and guts as the Drow's head squished against rock. He reminded himself to eat that later; one could never let good guts go to waste. The Orcs across the table took his signal and did likewise, killing the slavers with any weapons they had on them. Shinzar was impaled through the chest with the tusks of a Rock-Beast -- no healer would mend that; another was decapitated in an instant with a battle-axe; another was punched to death. Drugi laughed as the head of the head of the Shinzar clan was caved in by fists of all things. In a few moments the room became an orgy of blood and gore as the Orcs butchered their former slavers.

Jhulstra jumped back with a shriek. She fell to the ground panicked and nervous as she crawled to the wall, desperate for safety. She looked around at the carnagea around her. She was desperate, frantic. Her eyes darted right and left. Her limbs jittered. Drugi could hear her heartbeat flutter. She smelled of fear. Delicious, pungent, fear.

"Why Drugi?! What is this? Why now? Why this?" He found himself growing erect. Her weakness was enticing.

He laughed -- a sound he was certain sounded menacing to the Drow. Everything he did was menacing to these people. How sad! The slaver now a coward in the face of her own death! Drugi wished he could bury her face in the graves of the endless Anger-Beasts that had died fighting her useless wars. He wanted to drag her across the plains and make her know the glory that was Throk Anger-Beast before her clan ended him. He wanted to unleash a generation's worth of pain and suffering upon her and her people. He wanted to tell her thus: I am Drugi of the Anger-Beasts, son of Throk, whose glory you snuffed out without honor and this is my vengeance. She and her daughter Jhannel were the ones who'd overseen the enslavement of the Anger-Beasts. He had something special prepared for both.

Her hands began to grow purple with the Void-Energy. He brought his hammer against them and smashed them into the ground, making sure they'd be useless for a long time. She cried in pain. She opened her mouth to scream louder, likely for the Ghosts. He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall, halting her yell. It'd be troublesome to have the Ghosts interfere this early.

"No. More. Slaves." He said in the Drow tongue. It was hard to pronounce and came out rough, yet it got the point across. He threw her on the table. She was decades older than her daughter yet had a body that seemed just a few years older. The Drow aged slowly, and Drugi had heard them talk of how an increased magical potential would further slow that aging. He couldn't see what the Drow found so attractive in the thin, curvy frame. How could any mate survive the winter? Her bones seemed so fragile and her frame so small that a wolf could kill her with a swipe of its paw. He ripped her clothes off and threw them to the side. Her look was of panic and fear. There was no need for her to fear death -- he wouldn't kill the Nimiri family. Instead, he'd do to them what they'd done to the Anger-Beasts: he'd enslave every member of that despicable family just as they'd enslaved the Anger-Beasts. They'd all be his Cock-Sleeves by the end of the day. Even that pompous fool Xavin.

"You tight cock-sleeve! You make good fuck-slave. I fuck you now." He grew angry and red with passion. The excitement of the situation had pushed him into the warrior state.

He grabbed her by the waist and pushed into her hot pussy. He began pounding relentlessly. She cried, likely with pain from his member. The Drow women were so weak. How did such a weak people capture the Anger-Beasts? Moreover, why had Balthazar made such a weak people?

To be conquered. Balthazar made the weak to be conquered. This is their rightful place.

The sounds of flesh smacking against flesh echoed throughout the room. She still cried in pain, speaking gibberish as he fucked her half to death. If she didn't shut-up soon the Ghosts would become aware.

"Crag son of Cruck of Wolf-Teeth! Assist in the silence of the Priest-Maiden!" Crag Wolf-Teeth climbed across the table and stuck his green cock in her mouth, silencing her. He began pounding her mouth. The sounds of glurg, glurg, glurg, sounded across the room. It was quieter at least. Soon Crag came deep down her throat with his fuck-stick, launching globs of sticky semen straight into her stomach. Jhulstra began gagging uncontrollably. Drugi shook his head. Both were pathetic. Could he not last more than a few moments?

"Stupid youngling!" Yelled Drugi. "Let her breathe. You kill my cock-sleeve I kill you!" Crag withdrew, his green cock drenched with saliva and cum. Jhulstra took a deep breath. Crag pushed back into her. Drugi laughed.

The other Orcs in Garthrand had heard what he'd done now. There was no going back. In every room, cavern, and hallway the Orcs were killing any Drow they could lay eyes on. The thought filled him with pride.

He looked to the rest of the room. Orcs with red-eyes stared back. He roared, and they roared back. Today Garthrand would fall. Today they would gain their freedom or die trying.

Chapter 2:

Drugi brought his hammer against the shimmer of air. His hammer struck something solid. A Ghost popped out of the air and fell to the ground, lungs flattened. Drugi left his hammer on the Ghost's chest and swerved near his head. He brought his heel down on the Drow's skull, caving it in and ending his suffering. Farther down the hallway was another Ghost in their distinct black leathers. He'd obviously run out of whatever power they'd used to go invisible. His ragged breath was audible. He was tired and perfect for killing. The Warrior-State recognized prey. A wave of rage washed over him. Drugi let out out a fierce roar and lifted his hammer. He dashed towards the Ghost.

The Ghost stepped back, surprised by Drugi's speed. In a flash Drugi closed the distance between them. He smashed his hammer into the Ghost's abdomnen. The Ghost lay crushed against the wall. Drugi then lift the Ghost by his neck and crushed it. Drugi lifted his hammer and wiped the guts off it. Fool. One never challenged an Orc to a test of speed. That made four Ghosts he'd killed. Crag Rock-Beast grunted in approval at his work.

These Ghosts were troublesome, that was certain. Yet they were at a disadvantage in Garthrand, where the tight halls and caverns restricted their troublesome their invisibility and rapid movement.

Drugi, Crag, and the Orcs from the Priest's meeting were in the halls near the Arena now, where the Drow had forced them to fuck Elves and Humans daily. To what end, he didn't know. After the massacre at the Priest's meeting, Orcs around Garthrand had heard their signal and had done likewise. Drugi heard a cacophony of carnage erupt in every floor as Orcs fought their way down to Drugi's floor, the fifth level. Here they would regroup and fight the Drow as a unified army. Below him he heard the sounds of battle as Kalan and his group fought their way down to the lower floors. Hopefully the Human wouldn't end up a cumbucket for an enraged Orc. He needed the Humans to be successful to watch his rear.

Drugi was on the fifth level, where their rampage had started at the Priests' Meeting. The Mountain had ten main levels, so the Human and his men would have to clear the levels below. If the Human managed to get past those slaves and Ghosts in the deepest level, then his Orcs would join them in taking the upper levels and the massacre of the Drow would really begin. If not, they'd kill as many as they could and run for the lives back to the Plains. It was cowardly, but Drugi would not waste the lives of the Orcs in a fruitless endeavor like the Drow had. He was a better leader than that.

The smell of semen drifted into his nose. It was coming from the door ahead.

"Ahead," said Crag of Wolf-Teeth, stating the obvious, "Gazi and Nami are ahead!" Even for an Orc he was dull. The whole group could smell the pungent odor of a Warmaiden in heat. Drugi wanted to rip his throat out and eat it in front of him for saying such a stupid, obvious thing. He reminded himself to be patient with the youngling. Eating their allies wouldn't be good for the effort.

"Yes, Crag who-says-truth. Be silent now." They reached the door. Drugi kicked and it flew off its hinges, crashing into to the other side of the room with a boom. He never understood why the Drow built such weak fortifications. Even their mages would have no issue breaking the doors with their purple balls of death. It was likely another sign of their weakness.

The room had two tables and was light by two torches and a gemstone. Gami and Mazi stood on the far side eating the remains of a Ghost whose corpse was shackled to the table. One Ghost had already been eaten, his bloody remains sitting in a corner. They'd left nothing of that one but half-chewed limb-bones and a broken skull.

Drugi couldn't help but admire Gami and Mazi's forms. They were thick, with large bones and strong faces. Their curves were in all the right places. They would last many winters on the Plains. These were strongest, smartest Warmaidens the Anger-Beasts had to offer. On the plains, countless Orcs would have butchered themselves for chance to get between those thighs. They were of good breeding and ancestry, and their children would be as well.

A trail of the Human's seed dripped down their lips and across their thighs. The Human had been successful in dominating, just as he'd predicted. Their hunger was a good sign. A hungry Warmaiden was always the sign of a successful mating. He noticed Nadia and Xavin shackled to the table across the room. A look of terror was etched into their faces.

"Gami, Mazi, how was the mating?" He asked.

"Fulfilling. The Human dominates." said Gami while sucking the meat off a femur. Mazi nodded in agreement, a bit of blood dripping down her chin.

"The need to join him grows," said Mazi, sad. They longed to join their chief and mate. He understood their pain, yet it would be necessary for the good of the Anger-Beats.

"The battle has begun. You leave."

"What are you doing Drugi?! What language are you speaking in, fool? Is that the Drow tongue I hear?" Exclaimed Xavin from the opposite side of the room. "First the Human and now you? Ahh, why has the Darkness pitied us so? Balthazar will not let you get away with..." He stopped as Gami's form towered over him. He was an ant before her and he knew it. One twist of those meaty thighs and his pathetic little head would pop off. Drugi loved seeing the Drow exposed for the weak creatures they really were. "I married into the Nimiri family!" He exclaimed, defiant. Drugi heard his heart run like prey on the hunt and knew he was feigning confidence. A pool of wetness grew under his groin. A bitter scent filled the room. Pathetic Drow. "Touch me and the Ghosts will turn you to ash!" He began to stutter. "I-I have the Clans on my side! I'll have the Trolls use you as a cumbucket, whore! If only I had my staff--" Gami gave his head a complete turn, rotating it like a rock on a sling. He knew the cracks were audible even without Orc hearing, as Nadia gave the loudest, most ear-piercing shriek he'd ever heard. Drugi rushed across the room and smacked her across the face, silencing her.

"Silence!" He said in the Drow tongue. "You make bad cock-sleeve!" He yearned to unleash his battle-formed aggression on her but reminded himself he needed to join his brethren. Orcs tended to choose their own leaders when none were available -- that was the last thing he needed. Besides, there would be plenty of cock-sleeves on the upper levels. "Go to Plains, Mazi, Gami. Take Cock-Sleeve for me and dead Drow for food. Anger-Beasts stand by a secret exit in Arena."

"We want fight!" Yelled Gami.

"No. You go now. Orcs of plains need hope if we fail. Go! Take Cock-Sleeve!" He gestured to Nadia. Mazi sling Nadia over her shoulder and they exited the room. Their silence told him they understood the gravity of the situation. They exited the room with Nadia slung across Mazi's shoulder, her hands bound to prevent any use of magic.

Drugi exited the room and went to join his brethren.

***

Kalan ran through the halls of Garthrand with Cleitus on his back and Jhannel at his right. At his left was Ralph. Behind them was the Elf woman, whose loud panting made it clear she was having difficulty keeping up. He'd no idea why or how she'd straggled along. Meanwhile, Jhannel jogged beside him at a steady pace, her breathing steady. Kalan was surprised at Her fitness. She seemed to keep up fine with them despite having seemingly little training. That was no small feat given that He, Ralph and Cleitus were experience soldiers.

They kept on, running past walls of carved stone lit by torch and gemstone. The artificial light only increased his need to feel the sun's warm, bright embrace. Freedom. They all yearned for it.

A deep roar washed over them. Its anger, the pure rage it carried was palpable. Kalan tensed, preparing himself for a charge that wouldn't come. He knew that sound all too well. That was the war cry of the Orcs in Berserker State.

"In Balthazar's name, what now?" muttered Jhannel. She looked about, searching for the source of the sound.

Kalan couldn't resist a smirk. That cry meant only one thing: The Orcs were causing trouble. Praise the Gardener, praise Tyr. He'd no idea to what extent the Orcs would rampage, but any dividing of the Ghosts attention was a Blessing from Tyr. Yet there was a sliver of doubt in him. Orcs in the Berserker State tended to kill anything that didn't smell like an Orc. In that case, they'd have to fight their way through Orcs and Ghosts. That wouldn't be good. He turned to Jhannel.

"I take it this isn't common?" He asked between breaths. She said nothing.

"What does that mean?" Asked Ralph.

"We could have implicit allies, or enemies if we get too far."

Two pairs of footsteps echoed ahead. Kalan halted, almost sliding on the smooth stone. Jhannel stopped with a graceful slide. Her athleticism continued to surprise him. Ralph and the Elf woman almost tripped before coming to a stop and grasping the wall.

"Hey! What happened?" Asked Cleitus. Kalan nodded forward.

"Ahead. Ralph, help me out with Cleitus." Kalan tilted and Cleitus slid onto Ralph's back. "Stay back for a bit." He drew his borrowed blade.

A Drow emerged from the Darkness. He was of average height, a bit shorter than Kalan. His white hair reached to his shoulders and a similarly bleached beard covered his face. His eyes were like two dark purple beads. He wore a dress which reminded Kalan of the Imperial toga, but darker. His expression was curious. His demeanor was confident. He stared at them, unsure of the situation.

Kalan readied his blade. He was about to dash forward and end the Drow but stopped when a second figure emerged from the Darkness.

An instant later the tallest Orc Kalan had ever seen emerged next to the Drow. His muscular legs were as wide as Kalan. His only clothing was a loincloth wrapped over his groin. His arms were fearsome clubs that seemed to be able to break steel. His head scraped the ceiling. His tusks and mouth dripped red. In his right he dragged the limp remains of an Elf. The Elf's arms and ribs were missing -- likely ripped from his body and eaten.