Thread: On a Mission (Razgriz x Lagertha)

Move it, slut! Ow! Oi, don'tcha be hoggin' the pussy! No...please...no more.... Hehe, come'ere, ya humie sow! I got an itch to scratch! Filthy brutes! These were some of the sounds that were commonplace in most Orc villages unlike humans who lived in the plains and Elves who took to the sanctity of the forests, the Orcs - or 'Greenskins', as both liked to call them - used their superior strength and knowledge of stone-and-metalwork to create homes within and around the bases of tall mountains. Aside from the obvious proximity to deposits of ore, it also provided safety from attack Attacking one Greenskin, let alone a group, from the front was suicidal for most. Even with the humans' mastery of war and the Elves' proficiency in the arcane, few could say they stood up to a Greenskin and won. Even worse, most clans decided to raid nearby settlements and with their natural endowments, most forces did not stand a ghost of a chance at victory when they came knocking. And they did not just take their riches...No, more often than not, they stole their women and whatever food they could find. Why should weaklings get to have it, after all? Orcs were bigger, meaner, and far more adept at survival than the humans or Elves. Nature demanded survival of the strongest. Whenever they completed a raid, any women were often sent here to be used as pleasure slaves...Or for exceptionally strong ones, they were used as breeding slaves. Humans were tighter by and large, that much was certain...But Elves were more prized because any children born would have higher magic resistance, which would ensure a higher likelihood of remaining strong. Of course, there were Orc females as well Less bulky than the males, they were still quite sturdy. But more often than not they were ignored and because of this, many simply left the clans to form their own bands whilst others stayed behind to serve as caretakers for their newly captured toys. It wasn't because they were unattractive by Orc - or even human standards - but because the females were nearly as strong as the males, they were more choosy about who to accept as mates. The only reason there weren't more attacks was due to the self-destructive nature of their relations One Greenskin clan would always engage another if they crossed paths, and the resulting battle was always bloody. The survivors would then be bound to join the victor, their population getting larger and larger until a more powerful clan leader took them down. And while they were scattered...It did not mean they would not travel if they were seeking. Such was the case for one Orc settlement in particular Under the rule of Garekk the Unbroken, it was one of the more well-stocked villages. And he had the good sense to set it next to a mountain that resided near a wide, well-flowing river. They had storehouses galore for their armory and food, as well as 'plowhouses' for whenever they were feeling feisty. And the villagers were enjoying themselves everywhere after a particular successful raid Groups sat around roaring fires roasting enormous boars and deer, each drinking enough ale to fatally poison ten men. Their large bellies hung freely, jiggling as they laughed despite the fact that they really had no real body fat to speak of. And by the sides of the logs they sat on, human and Elven women were chained up in iron shackles. Prizes taken from the weeks-long travel to where they currently resided. Huuu...We gots quite a haul, don't we, lads? Look at the knockers on this one! said one Orc, his flat nose letting out a snort of humid breath, grasping the left breast of a brunette dressed in the shredded dirtied remains of her wedding gown, the heavy manacles already having marked her wrists and ankles. They had ransacked her town and killed her husband as he tried to no avail to aid her escape. Evidence of her futile struggle, even as she cringed and turned her head, feeling the rough thick digits sink into her supple mound and his atrocious scent wash through her nostrils. Bettin' if she gits fat with a kid, she'll make some tasty milk with those utters! This statement made the group laugh, and tears roll down the woman's face. But that's when the good times stopped. A loud guttural roar echoed throughout the village, followed by howls of terror and the familiar sound of bone being broken and flesh rended by something sharp. It came from the forest, where they usually had sentries stationed. Followed by several more, each one further around the treeline until the last come from near where the first one sounded. What the hell.... asked one of the Orcs, his beady eyes squinting as he stood up, only to jump back as the head of another one of his clan suddenly crashed into the fire, scattering the ash and snuffing the flame after it cracked the spit they were using to roast their meat. And then came a battle cry, the voice sonorous and powerful as it echoed across the now silent plains. One that no one but other Orcs would know. GARREK! I! HAVE! COME! And from the treeline came another Orc, wielding eight skulls - their severed necks dripping with green liquid - gripped in his left hand like his brethren, he was enormous. Standing well over seven feet tall, he wore almost no armor save for a three-strap battle harness that held a pauldron on his left shoulder, his pride covered in a large ragged cloth that partially concealed the thick trunks of his thighs, the feet covered in simple deerskin boots. Resembling his kin, he was entirely bald, his nose flat and his lower jaw jutting forward, the lower canines that signature shade of yellow as they poked out from his lips. In his right hand, he held a wicked-looking blade that stood nearly as tall as him the way it gleamed dully suggested it was not made of iron. Its edge was covered in dried emerald fluid, suggesting extensive use. Orc blood, and each one knew exactly who it was. It's 'im... sneered one Orc, grabbing his own iron sword, his compatriots following suit to stand against this invader. The newcomer seemed not to care, if anything, he seemed even angrier, his heavy-set brow narrowing as the beady black eyes - bloodshot from what seemed like lack of sleep - stared toward those approaching him. One of the captive woman screamed, Please, help us! which earned her a smack and her assailant shouting Shut it, whore! The invader's grip on his blade, as well as his jaw, tightened anyone privy to the flow of energy would sense a howling darkness enshroud him and shiver from the pure negativity of it. Ye think ye can take us all? We gotcha outnumbered forty tah one! shouted one Orc, to which another responded, Forty-one if ye count me. Each of their gazes then turned behind them, to see an even larger Orc making his way through the camp. It was none other than Garrek himself he was by far the largest and most aggressive of this settlement, his muscular form dressed in thick battle plate. He was one of the few to have any hair on his head, even if it was only a ponytail growing from the top of his head. Not surprisin' ye would show yerself here...Is it, Urgok? Garrek asked rhetorically. Ye think bein' 'ere changes anythin'? I'm dee Unbroken yer just a lowly grunt! Garrek shouted when the newcomer - apparently named Urgok - said nothing. You talk too much growled Urgok, raising the hefty blade before him, If you were real Orcs, you would have come at me by now. Garrek snorted, replying with Yer funeral...Git 'em, lads! No mercy! All Orcs which were ready charged without question, thinking that they could overwhelm him with sheer numbers. They were wrong. Urgok took the skulls and with a mighty toss flung them at the charging attackers several Orcs fell over, causing others who were in mid-stride to have to break pace to avoid causing a potential collision. This left them wide open for his own attack, his voice bellowing as he rushed right in with abandon. The first would feel the massive sword cut right through his midsection, his upper half traveling in an arc as he was disemboweled. The next would try to strike, missing and receiving punishment for his error, the weapon cleaving through the side of his skull. And then they all descended on Urgok, unleashing a spectacle of slaughter like few could witness. Particularly aggressive Orcs would often fall into a trance in battle, and no amount of pain would seem capable of stopping them. Urgok seemed to be in this trance almost constantly, for even as their weapons beat and slashed him, he continued to kill. Split skulls and ruptured abdomens spilled great quantities of blood and organs across the already-filthy campsite, the bodies of the Orcs serving as ample sustenance for the carrion feeders. And as the battle raged on, the women squealed and ran as fast as they could, dragging some of their slower fellow captives in an attempt to avoid the carnage whenever it drew near. And in what seemed like moments, this fight was over Urgok held a barely-alive Orc by his chest plate in his free hand, his body badly cut and bruised. The blood of his foes streamed into his wounds, bits of his own flesh hanging off where he was cut and where his attackers tried to bite him and claw at him. To say that he was even still alive was nothing short of a miracle, to be even standing was more so. But even with how he looked, he could still fight. Garrek's eyes traveled over his opponent, seeming unfazed that he killed every one of his men. Instead, the gargantuan warrior chuckled and clapped, Well done, well done, Urgok...Yer reputation as fierce is underwhelmin'. Tell ya what... Garrek pulled out his own sword, a three hundred pound hunk of raw iron. I'll let ye live, ifin' ye join me. We can make an even larga Orc city. March on a humie city and take it for ourselves. Urgok snorted, What Orc would join you? Negotiating with the one who killed your people? You'll be laughed out of power. Besides... He then trailed off and lumbered towards the massive warrior, lazily throwing his captive onto a still-roaring fire, the Orc weakly gurgling and flailing as the flames cooked him alive. The captive women could only watch with fearful eyes as this murderous Orc approached the bandit leader just what kind of monster was he? For anyone, even another Greenskin, to take on so many was unheard of. They'd only heard whispers from their captors of a psychotic monster that went to Orc settlements and wiped out everyone there. And of course, their prideful nature let them loose words about being able to take the beast down single-handedly, which often led to drinking contests to prove who was the stronger one. But now, here this creature was before them some were excited that he might be their savior, others feared that he only wanted to take them for himself. Regardless, they sat rooted where they were lest they incur this monster's wrath. ...It's not your praise I want. I would never join a Greenskin like you. The only use you have is to be food for the vultures. continued Urgok in that same growling, to which Garrek replied, Ah figured as such. Shame, really...Goin' to miss ya. Really I am. And with that, the two remaining Orcs rushed each other, weapons raised for combat before they clashed and the fighting resumed.