The Emerald King

Rogg road as fast as he could to where the battle would be taking place. The warm late summer air billowed past him as his boar ran ferociously. The sun was coming down and close to setting, and he felt more rushed than he had hoped. Things hadn’t gone exactly as planned on their way to the battle.

They had just happened upon a group of pigs, which the savages couldn’t resist tearing limb from limb. Luckily, if you could call accidentally running into a fight lucky, there was a good number of them. They should prove to keep the savages busy for at least a little while. He was leaving it up to Briga to clean things up when the battle was over.

He had been riding for well over an hour at this point, but through boar’s power, he could sense that he was close. A large hill stood before him and as he climbed, his mount began to lose vigor. The incline was taking its toll on the beast’s already worn body. Rogg kicked in the ribs, forcing it to keep going.

I’m sorry about this old girl but we’re short on time.

The boar’s hooves slipped several times, tripping up and forcing Rogg to hold onto his reigns with all his might. Once they made it to the top, the sight he beheld startled him. The crude fortress below was swarming with tigers and orcs alike. There were none of the mice in sight. What he did see, however, were green-skinned orcs cornered behind the walls.

The battlefield was a mess of blood and burnt grass with bodies and entrails littering the ground. If Rogg hadn’t been accustomed to such gore already he may have been sick. Outside the wall, there were many corpses of the pigs. Inside, a littering of orc, pig and tiger alike.

Rogg kicked again and the boar slid down the hill and stumbled into a full sprint when it reached the bottom. It squealed in discomfort both from kicks and from the landing, but it did not let up. With haste Rogg made it to the battlefield, avoiding tigers and orcs that attempted to stop him. Several arrows were launched but he was able to avoid the volley by a hair’s breadth.

Once Rogg emerged from the rubble of the gate, he put on his best savage voice and roared at the top of his lungs.

“ORCS OF WEAK LANDS, YOU FACE ROGG! FEEL MY AXE BIG CUT!”

Before he could reach them, he saw a green orc in black robes, eyes glowing and hand outstretched. The next thing he knew another green orc jumped in front of the crowd before a blinding light filled his vision. Rogg fell from his mount as the boar squealed again in fear. For a time there was a huge commotion as voices screamed and yelled. Rogg braced himself in case anyone attacked him while blinded, but nothing came.

He rubbed his eyes attempting to retrieve his sight. At first, everything was a blur with colorful spots clouding his vision. When he finally could see, he saw most of the orcs in the area had been knocked out cold, save for a handful. Rogg stood up and looked around more, trying to take in what was going on. The cloaked orc was gone, along with all the other green skins he saw on his way in.

“Father!” the thick voice of a female cried behind him. Turning around he saw two purple skins, the orc who cried out just before and another male, only a little larger than the female. He walked toward them slowly, making sure he was ready in case they went to attack him. While most were unconscious, he was still technically surrounded by potential enemies. He couldn’t risk dying now, he had to make it back to Briga in one piece.

“It’s okay, Ilmar.” The male said, struggling to gain his footing while the female helped him up. The male looked up at Rogg, at first surprised and looking as if he were readying for a fight, but he made no move to attack.

“And who’re you?” the male asked, staring Rogg down.

“I…” Rogg hesitated, he wasn’t sure if he should keep up the façade or show the orc his true colors. At this point, it was probably his only chance to prove his good faith.

“I am Rogg,” he said, his rocky voice slightly shaken.

“Rogg huh? Why are you here?”

“I…need help. I’m looking for one named, Gulmar.”

“Speaking,” the male said warily. “Now what the hell do you want?”

“I came to seek aid against the pigs that invade our lands… although now I’m aware of a bigger threat.”

“Yer sure as shit got that right. The humans weren’t much of a threat like we thought.”

“No… even I managed to slaughter a large group of them by myself.”

“I see. You sure talk proper for a savage from the deep south.”

“I don’t get that as much as you might think. Can we talk?”

The female gave Rogg a look of disgust and clear distrust. He couldn’t really blame her, seeing as their clans were always at odds. Some savages wandering off north to the Riverlands, killing travelers and those unarmed, while others attempted to attack the great wall put in place to keep Rogg’s kin at bay.

It was still a miracle that these two even let him speak, or at least Rogg felt like it was a miracle. He didn’t exactly have much contact with anyone who wasn’t a savage or he wasn’t killing. Briga, and especially Jorf, were a rare commodity.

With the help of the female, Gulmar limped over to Rogg and placed a meaty hand on his bare shoulder.

“First things first,” Gulmar said, exhausted. “introductions, and a drink are in order. I’m Gulmar Gron, chieftain of the Riverlands. This here’s my daughter, Ilmar.

“I’m Rogg,” he replied awkwardly l, never having an interaction like this before.

“Rogg, what?”

“Just, Rogg. My people don’t have last names, and I never bothered to make one up. Pretty fucking pointless it seems.”

Gulmar chuckled, wincing in pain and grabbing at his ribs.

“Fair enough. Let’s get this lot up and out of this damned fortress. It’s damn near night time.”

Rogg helped with carrying the wounded and unconscious out of the fortress and dropping them off at the large camp they had set up a ways outside. He received many suspicious looks, some even disgusted by his presence. One thing that gave Rogg a funny look on his own face was a tiny orc, larger than the invaders, yet smaller than even the shortest orc you would see. Her tusk were almost nonexistent and her skin, while still brown like the other mountain dwellers, was a fair shade lighter.

He has seen her earlier, helping the only green skin that remained. She had taken her to near where the hooded orc had been standing. They stared at a burnt husk of something for a time, and the green one had broke down crying. Rogg could only imagine who that husk was to her. It made him think of Briga, forming a pit in his stomach at the thought of losing her in battle.

Once the survivors were helped back to camp, a brown-skinned orc that Rogg came to know as Grall, laid the dead within the fortress and set it ablaze. By now all the tigers that had participated in the battle had left, save for an older looking one with lighter fur than the rest. The mood in the camp was grim, and he couldn’t help but think about what was going on with his Warband right now.

“Gulmar,” Rogg said, trying to hide the sleepiness in his voice. “Can we talk now?”

“I s’pose so,” he said, his speech slurred from several mugs of ale.

“Will you help me? I know you’ve just gotten out of a battle, but if we work together I think our chances are better.”

“I’m not gonna lie t’ ye, I’m still not sure what we’re up against. The Zruhk are the enemy now and there’s still them humans wandering ‘bout. Why don’t you stay with us fer a couple o’ days, so we can figure it out?”

“I don’t have that long,” Rogg said, frustrated. I’ve got a band of savages seven thousand strong waiting for me. They get restless if I’m not there to keep the fuckers in check.”

“Bring ’em here,” another voice said from behind him. Rogg turned to see Grall standing behind him, his own mug of ale in his hand. “we’ll be here for a few days anyway. We need time to recover before we can go anywhere. By the time you come back, we’ll be at full strength and can handle your savages no problem.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rogg said, skeptically. “You best keep your females away from them, the only thing they like almost as much as killing, is fucking.”

“Ha!” Grall exclaimed, “don’t worry about that, we can handle ourselves. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you got much of an option.”

He had to admit it, as much as it annoyed him, but Grall was right.

“Alright, alright. Give me four days, I’ll leave after I get some rest.”

“Now thas’ a good idea,” Gulmar slurred.

With that, Rogg got up and walk to the edge of camp in the direction he had come from. He laid down and gazed up at the stars above him, little twinkles lighting up the night sky.

I hope I don’t come to regret this, Rogg thought as his eyes grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.