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Burningarrow
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Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« on: 02/04/03 at 18:52:27 » |
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In the middle of her life, Gally Smith found herself on a lonely path in the midst of a dark wood, with someone following her. Who? Cautiously, she drew her handgun -- her tried and tested Beretta -- and prepared to do battle. Round a corner came a white rabbit.
"Hold it right there," said Gally. "Who are you and what are you doing?"
"Rabbits don't talk," said the white rabbit.
"No?" said Gally. "Then what are you doing right now?"
"Gee," said the rabbit, abashed. "I guess I must be drunk."
"Maybe you need counselling for substance abuse," said Gally. "What do you think?"
But she never got a response, because that was when she was ambushed by orcs. They carried her off to their cave as an "honored guest", which she took to be a euphemism for "someone we will shortly eat alive". It was surprising, therefore, that they did not disarm her, and she remained in possession of her ice axe and Beretta.
"You do know about nuclear weapons, don't you?" said the Head Teacher, who interviewed Gally shortly after her arrival.
"No," said Gally.
"Exactly what we thought!" said the Head Teacher. "Excellent! You will begin work tomorrow! Teaching the orclets!"
"The orclets?"
"The little orcs. They are all very, very keen on learning how to make nuclear bang-bombs."
"Well, I can't teach them," said Gally.
But, the very next day, she found herself at the blackboard, trying to remember anything she might conceivably have learnt about the manufacture of weapons grade uranium, with a host of orclets watching her attentively.
After a couple of weeks in the caves, Gally -- as yet uneaten -- was beginning to settle in. And, one evening, after all the orclets had been tucked up in bed, Gally accepted an invitation to sample a little mulled wine in the cave belonging to Makamok, the boss orc. She was most impressed by this cave, for it had carpets, tapestries on the walls, comfortable armchairs, and a massive bed with proper sheets, proper blankets and an inner-sprung mattress.
There they had a long and leisurely conversation. Makamok was shocked to learn that Gally was sleeping on a heap of straw.
"We have half a thousand mattresses in our storerooms," said he. "Most of our people find them too soft, but the caretakers of your cave should have had wit sufficient to offer you the option."
"Never mind," said Gally. "I don't want to be any trouble."
"You're no trouble at all," said Makamok. "Rather, we see in you an inestimable asset."
"How so?" said Gally cautiously, hoping the evening would not be marred by talk on the rather depressing topic of nuclear bombs and the orclets' progress (or lack of it) in their course of military-industrial education.
"Great are the gifts you will bring to my people," said Makamok, pouring a little wine for Gally. "But the greatest of all these gifts will be the gift of happiness for our orclets. Thus it has been prophecied."
Gally put no faith in prophecy. But, six months later, after she had taught the orclets about birthdays, and Christmas, and hide and seek, and treasure hunts, and had organised a major party for them, the prophecy seemed to be coming true.
"You are the most excellent of women," said Makamok, pouring her a glass of Purple Death, a wine with the most peculiar purple color which the orcs apparently imported from some unimaginably distant place known as New Zealand.
"I only put on a party," said Gally, sipping her Purple Death cautiously.
"You gave them your love," said Makamok. "Which is more than I could do. For I am an orc. Love was always the province of the orcesses, and when they perished I thought that love had perished with them."
Then he paused.
And Gally said:
"Love ... "
Dare she suggest ... ?
"Shall we beech tree?" said Makamok, suggesting for her.
Beech tree they did, passionately yet elegantly. Gally had feared that Makamok might prove rough and violent on his home ground. Instead, he was far more tender, and more relaxed by an order of magnitude.
At last, both Gally and Makamok were sated and exhausted. Then they lay together making the warm and relaxed smalltalk of satisfied lovers. Tonight, Makamok was not a lumpy bumpy orc whom Gally wished to repudiate now that lust was spent; instead, he was her comfort, her companion, an ally who would help her face a future which till now had looked increasingly lonely and uncertain.
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Burningarrow
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 2
« Reply #1 on: 02/04/03 at 18:53:54 » |
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The smalltalk began to die away as Makamok began to sink toward langorous sleep.
At last the two lovers kissed for one last time, then swooned away to the world of dreams. Their night's sleep should have been long, languid and blissful. But it was not, for shortly after midnight they were awoken by grim warrior-orcs bearing lanterns, and bearing also news -- news of the worst kind.
"The mirror reveals elves and dwarves in alliance," said one. "Armed for aggression they come."
The mirror in question was produced. It was a cheap and nasty oval mirror with a horrid gilt frame all flossied up with a multiplicity of curlicues. Yet the orcs handled it with surpassing reverence, treating this gimcrack curio as if it were a holy relic.
"Valaspor," murmered Makamok, taking the mirror into his hands.
The mirror brightened. Then smoke drifted across its surface, writhed in turbulence then consolidated to show a picture of an army marching by moonlight.
"What's this?" said Gally. "A prophetic mirror?"
"No," said Makamok. "This is something which is happening now. Long have we feared this onslaught, yet never did we think it would come so soon."
"Where are they?" said Gally. "These soldiers and people, I mean."
Even as Gally spoke, she dragged herself out of bed and began to haul herself into her clothes, careless of what the bystanding orcs might see. Makamok studied the moonlit geography then said:
"They are but a league from Hill Haven. We cannot stand and fight. Not against these. We must flee. We must run down the Long Burrow. Great are the perils of that passage, and the enemy will be loathe to follow us."
"If it's so dangerous," said Gally, lacing up her combat boots, "should we be going there in the first place?"
"We have no choice," said Makamok.
Yet he made no move to bestir himself to action. Instead, he stared at the mirror as if hypnotised by the sight on that marching army. Greatest of that alien host were the elven lords. Tall they were, and beautiful, mounted upon lordly horses. Their Teflon assumed an eerie hue by moonlight, so it seemed as if sheets of living phosphorescence clad their flesh as they marched to war. With the elves were the dwarves, dwarves in their hundreds, low stumping creatures, swarthy and red-eyed, capped with steel helmets and lugging with them a great weight of flamethrowers, machine guns and bazookas.
"The dwarves," said Makamok, with a sibilant hiss of fear and hatred.
"What is so bad about the dwarves?" said Gally.
"Do you not see their armaments?" said Makamok. "We have no weapons which make a match for theirs. Worse, the dwarves are ruthless. As their bodies are shrunken, so too are their souls. They are pitiless killers, deformed murderers, bestial drinkers of blood, followers of a fiendish cult of bloodlust."
Gally had never heard him speak so vehemently before. Then he relinquished the mirror and began hunting in his wardrobe. Other orcs hastened to help him as he put on padded underclothing then loaded himself up with hauberk and battle-helm, greaves and gauntlets, battle-belt and sword, shield and spear. A fire-snarling dragon adorned his black-rimmed shield, and a grinning skull sat atop his battle-helm.
"Go!" said Makamok to Gally. "Go! Gather your possessions and your people. For we must flee at once."
So Gally grabbed a lantern and fled through the caves and tunnels of Hill Haven, only to find that orcs had already roused Wayne and Stick. Gally grabbed her purse and the ice axe Trotsky. Did she have her sidearm? Yes, Cinderella was safe in the holster at her side. Though the Beretta was of little use now that only a single round of ammunition remained.
Then Gally and her companions joined the orcs and orclets for the long march. Gally was moved to tears when she saw the orclets had brought the most precious of their possessions with them. These treasures were nothing more than the frippery ornamentations of their happy birthday party. Little E had a party hat and was clutching a yellow balloon. Gog had a whistle from a cracker which he had strung around his neck on a bit of string. Some of the girl orclets had adorned themselves with pieces of party streamers. And Strop had four balloons, two streamers, a whistle, and two paper hats which had slipped down around his neck. Naturally this abundance of wealth aroused Gally's worst suspicions, but she judged that this was not the appropriate time to interrogate him, for the expedition was already leaving.
Soon all the inhabitants of Hill Haven were daring their way down the Long Burrow. A horrible place it was, a place of doom and of nightmare. Cold, high-singing winds blew along that ever-twisting tunnel. In many places there were holes and pits and clefts and chasms, some falling away into abysmal gulfs of fire, others disappearing into echoing darkness. Icy black water dripped persistently from the overhead rock of the Long Barrow.
First went Makamok, leading the way since he had dared this passage before. Behind him came a dozen iron-shod orcs, tramping along in their battle-gear. After these came the twenty pattering orclets. Sometimes the orclets whimpered and sometimes little sobs of fear escaped them. Gally knew they must be terrified, and wished they could stop now and then so she could comfort them. But Makamok led the expedition at a relentless pace, for the great orc feared the perils of the Long Burrow greatly.
At last, after a long and wearying march, they exited from the Long Burrow, emerging into the moonlight of a clear night which had now grown very cold. The wind had got up, and blew into their faces as they climbed to a steep ridge by way of a narrow path which led through a great crowding of oleander bushes. At the top of the ridge the orcs paused. Behind them, in the distance, they heard sullen explosions deep underground followed by shattering screams.
"What is it?" said Gally in alarm.
"We will see," said Makamok. "The mirror!"
One of his aides produced the magic mirror. Again Makamok commanded it with a word. This time, it showed a confused underground scene. A huge beast was running amok in one of the more cavernous parts of the Long Burrow.
"The dwarves have stirred up one of the elder beasts of the earth," said Makamok. "A lympatic auditor, perhaps, or a fire dragon. That may delay them, but not for long."
Even as he spoke, a tongue of fire lunged from a flamethrower, and the beast cringed and fled. Little detail was visible amidst the murk and smoke, but Gally thought she could see dwarves manning machine guns and firing on the retreating creature, though the mirror's lack of audio effects made it difficult for her to be sure.
"So they're following us," said Gally.
"Yes," said Makamok sadly. "Even through the Long Burrow. Truly, I did not think they would dare."
"But," said Gally, "We've time to run. Haven't we?"
"You have time to run," said Makamok. He handed Gally a map. "Look. This is where we are. Take the orclets along this path. It leads north through the forest of Gaia. Ten leagues on foot will bring you to a subway station."
"Ten leagues," said Gally numbly.
"Yes," said Makamok. "A long march. Go with care! When elves and dwarves go to war, they net the lands with lone scouts and hunting packs. If you meet with such, then you must deal with them as best you can."
"But where will you be?" said Gally.
"Here," said Makamok.
Then he explained.
While Gally and her Zelanian companions led the twenty orclets to safety, the adult orcs would stand and fight. Some were already singing a blood-curdling fighting chant. Silhouetted against the moonlight, they made fantastical, barbaric figures, particularly with the spikes and horns uprising from their armor and battle-helms. Grim in their gear of war they stood, fingering bloodstained axes or whispering promises of death and vengeance to swords of ancient iron. But could they triumph against flamethrowers and machine guns? Gally did not think so.
"Go!" said Makamok.
"And you?" said Gally, though she knew the answer already.
"Upon me is the doom of weapons," said Makamok. "This is our last stand. I feel it in my bones."
"You mean," said Gally, who was heartbroken by now, "you mean you're really ... "
"We fight to the death," said Makamok. "Time is all we hope to win. Go! Go now, and quickly! Or our sacrifice is in vain."
"I go," said Gally.
Yet went not.
"Take care of my son," said Makamok gruffly.
"I will," said Gally.
"And remember," said Makamok. "Remember that I ... I love you."
"I love you too," said Gally.
Then they kissed once, by moonlight, and the moonlight shone bright upon the tears which glistened in the eyes of the fair Gally Smith. And thereafter their ways were sundered, for, while Gally fled to the north, the great orc Makamok held his ground upon the ridge where he would meet his enemy. Red fire was kindled upon that ridge, for orcs are ever heartened by the red-tongued wonder, whereas elves are known to fear the uproarious and untramelled energies of fire. Then the sullen wardrums of the orc-lords began to boom, hammering out a message of death and defiance.
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Burningarrow
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 3
« Reply #2 on: 02/04/03 at 18:56:37 » |
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Gally heard those drums as she hastened through the night, driving the stumbling orclets before her, and she wept for the hopeless valor of the doomed orcs who must surely die upon that ridge.
Behind Gally came Wayne and Stick, who were soon proving their worth as beasts of burden. For little E collapsed, then Gog went down on his knees, and then even the mighty and obstreperous Strop yielded to fatigue and foundered. By dawn, they had reached the forest of Gaia, famous for its silver-leaved trees. By that time, the much-burdened Zelanian athletes were close to collapse themselves, and all those orclets who were still on their feet were stumbling badly.
"Right," said Gally, consulting Makamok's map. "We'll halt here. We'll sleep for a bit, then we'll go on."
Nobody needed any further invitation. Wayne and Stick dropped armfuls of orclets to the ground, and the orclets promptly crawled in amongst the bracken. Wayne and Stick followed them. Soon everyone was lost to sight, covered by bracken and cushioned by silver leaves which had fallen from the silver trees.
"Sleep well, everyone," said Gally.
Then wondered where she should sleep herself. At her very feet was a bit of a pit with some leaves in the bottom. She laid herself down in this open grave and found it surpassingly comfortable, for it sheltered her from the wind and the leaves afforded her all the protection she could have wished for. All around, the leaves of the forest of Gaia lulled in lullaby, and Gally was soon deep in sleep beneath the open sky.
Gally dreamt that she was back in Balham, safe in bed in her townhouse with her teddy bear Biggles. But she was not safe at all. She lay, exposed and terribly vulnerable, in a glade in the forest of Gaia. And while she lay thus, she was discovered by an elven lord who was scouting through that forest. Makamok had warned her of such scouts, but grief, despair and exhaustion had made her forget. Hence she had set no sentries. Nor had she concealed herself, though all others in her party had taken this simplest of precautions.
Now she was to suffer the consequences of her dereliction of duty.
The elven lord sat astride a tall and noble horse. A sword was at his side and a spear was seated in the spear-holder attached to his saddle. As he looked down upon Gally, his horse nickered softly, and Gally awoke. She blinked away dreams, rubbed her eyes in puzzlement, then slowly got to her feet, gathering up her purse and her ice axe as she did so. She decided she was probably in a great deal of trouble and might quite possibly have to fight her way out of it. So, as a first step to improving the odds, she clambered out of her open grave.
"Greetings, Gally," said the elven lord.
"And to you, greetings," said Gally, wondering who he was and how he knew her name.
"A puzzlement is upon your brow," said the elven lord. "Yet have we not met?"
"I -- I don't know," said Gally.
"We met within the woods of Elvenland," said the elven lord. "I am Alvin Euro, a servant of the great lord Quick Rich the Lesser. When we met, you were in Teflon clad."
"So I was," said Gally.
"You were going to see Paquin," said Alvin Euro. "Strange it is, but Paquin was thereafter not to be found in our realm."
"My!" said Gally. "What a strange coincidence!"
She began to sweat. She would really be in trouble if the elven lord searched her purse. For within that purse was Paquin himself, shrunken to fingerlength size and encubed in plastic.
"A strange coincidence indeed," said Alvin Euro. "Strange indeed when all our searches since have failed to find our missing guest."
"Tell me where you've looked so far," said Gally. "Maybe I can think of somewhere you haven't looked."
So the elven lord began to speak of his long and fruitless search for the missing couturier. Then he broke off abruptly and said: "What is that?"
Gally looked where he was pointing and to her horror saw little Gog peeping from the bushes.
"It's an orc!" cried Alvin Euro, hefting his spear.
"No! No!" screamed Gally, throwing herself between the spear and her child.
Gog broke from the bushes and, dropping her ice axe, Gally snatched him up into her arms.
"Unhand that monster!" said the elven lord, shocked. "It pollutes your virgin beauty."
"This is my -- my child."
"If orcs with humans have been mating," said Alvin, "then that indeed is a monstrous thing."
"He's not an orc," said Gally, holding Gog close while he wept with fear. "He's mine. My Thalidomide baby."
The elven lord seated his spear in the spear-holder then drew his sword.
"It is an orc," said Alvin. "My sword tells me as much."
That sword blazed blue-white with righteous hate and blood-lust anger. The sword knew itself to be in the presence of an enemy. And the sword lusted for slaughter.
"All right," said Gally defiantly. "So it is an orc. But you can't have it. It's mine!"
"Yours! Gally Smith, I see you plain! Once a woman, perhaps, but now befouled and besmirched beyond redemption. A witch-very *friendly* person annoying person who devils with darkness, who traffics with orc-filth in gross obscenity. A fiend in female form, a hag depraved, a bleeding gash which floods the earth with vile pollutions."
So spoke Alvin Euro, working himself into a killing rage.
Then he leapt from his horse and charged upon Gally, meaning to kill both the woman and her orclet on the spot. Gally dropped little Gog and reached for her sidearm.
There was an explosion. Cinderella kicked in Gally's hand. Alvin halted. His sword fell from his hand. The elven lord swayed on his feet. He looked puzzled. There was a neat red hole in the centre of his forehead. His lips moved as if he was trying to speak.
"I've shot you," said Gally carefully. "You're dead."
"Oh," said Alvin. "Oh, so that's what it is."
Then he toppled and fell.
Alvin Euro's horse screamed, reared up, flailed at the air with its hooves, then galloped away. And Gally dropped her Beretta and stumbled to the nearest bushes and vomitted violently. Meantime, the other members of her party of refugees came scrambling out of the undergrowth.
By the time Gally had recovered some of her composure, all the orclets were wailing. They were frightened and upset, traumatised by the loud noise of the single gunshot, by Gally's sudden sickness, and by the sight of the bleeding corpse which lay on the grass in such dreadful silence.
"Wow!" said Wayne, looking on the dead elven lord.
"You killed him!" said Stick in an accusing voice.
"Of course I killed him you -- you idiot," said Gally.
Then flung her Beretta at the tactless thugby player and turned away and wept, sobbing her heart out. Little E and Gog came to her side and touched her tentatively, as if seeking to reassure her. Strop recovered the Beretta and began to experiment with the trigger.
"It's all right," said Gally to the orclets who had come to comfort her. "It's all right."
Then she broke down and wept all the more. Meantime Wayne confiscated the Beretta from Strop, took it to pieces and hurled the various components into the forest. Strop was about to protest when the look on Wayne's face convinced him that any such indulgence would be most unwise.
At last Gally's tears eased, and she fumbled in her purse for a tissue. But found no tissue there. Just junk, really. Some diamonds she had pillages from some place (when you're busy having adventures it's easy to lose track), and a drunken rabbit.
"Out, you!" said Gally crossly, expelling the rabbit. "What were you doing in my purse?"
"Being a rabbit means never having to say you're sorry," said the rabbit.
And hopped away, bumped drunkenly into a tree, recovered itself, then vanished out of sight in the undergrowth.
"Well," said Gally, zipping up her purse and wiping her eyes on her sleeve, "I suppose we'd better get on with it then."
And she marshalled her orclets into marching formation and led the way north, with Wayne and Stick tagging alone in the rear. She realised she was still in the middle passage of her life, and still in a dark wood, but now, unexpectedly (and this is how these things tend to happen) she had a family, responsibilities and, therefore (implicitly) a future.
THE END
MADE BY BLASTER
InGame Name:Burningarrow
Real Name: Jonas Eriksson
Hotmail: Granliden13@hotmail.com
Country: Sweden
I hope U liked It
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Pandilex
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« Reply #3 on: 02/04/03 at 23:30:07 » |
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This is no place for plagerism.
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Every good writer has much idiom. --Landor
'If your dumb enough to share, we're not dumb enough to care' -Deval
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PopTart
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« Reply #4 on: 02/04/03 at 23:55:45 » |
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/nod
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Every decade there is one newbie,One newbie with the uncanny skill to ask so many easily answered questions he can drive all Nightmist elders to retirement.That one chosen man is declared King Newbie!
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Burningarrow
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« Reply #5 on: 02/05/03 at 20:52:13 » |
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what do u mean
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Pandilex
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« Reply #6 on: 02/06/03 at 12:45:42 » |
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It means don't take credit for a story that someone else wrote.
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Blade
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« Reply #7 on: 02/06/03 at 17:28:31 » |
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Who did write it then?
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Pandilex
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« Reply #8 on: 02/22/03 at 20:03:35 » |
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Hugh Cook
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Bishop
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Re: Massacre of the Orcs part 1
« Reply #9 on: 02/22/03 at 20:08:50 » |
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Then how about it be removed?
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"What you fear in the night in the day comes to call anyway."
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