Page 2 of Orc's Pride
Dark elves, while magic users, have short reserves to rely on while in battle. They’re only as good as they’re magic as far as I’m concerned, and once that’s been exhausted, they’re as tough as humans.
Which makes taking them out once they reach that point so easy. It’s the getting there that’s a hassle. They put up quite the fight—which if it were any other species, I’d admire as a valiant effort.
“How long ago?” My hand is already reaching for the machete strapped to my hip.
“Few hours. Before sunrise.”
Barely a week out and they’re already looking to get slaughtered again. It makes me grin at the thought. Excellent. I can’t wait to crush them beneath my boot.
“Gather the troops, we’ll head out in twenty minutes.”
We head into The Dark Forest on mounts that carry us deep into the forest.
Gor’s intel is good, leading us on a trail that is ripe with dark elf energy. It surprises me at first that they’ve been able to get this far without any of us noticing beforehand, but then again, their magic can be powerful if left in the right hands.
Their abilities are beyond my scope of understanding, but that doesn’t make taking them out any less satisfying. I welcome the challenge, as do the rest of my troop.
Once this world is finally rid of those disgusting bastards, that’s the day I’ll put my machete to rest and consider finding myself a nice place to retire to. Until then, I relish the feeling of blood coursing through my veins and the energy that fuels me from cutting them all down.
I slow us to a stop as the forest grows denser and harder to navigate with our mounts. The trail still forges ahead of us, through the thicket and the curling vines that wrap around trees that block our way.
“We’ll track on foot from here. They shouldn’t be too far out—”
Movement catches my eyes, halting my tongue. My hand fists around the hilt of my machete, my leg coming over and swinging my body down to the ground. Behind me, my troop quiets, readying themselves as well.
It wouldn’t be the first time a dark elf has thought himself bold and approached us like this. If anything, it would give us a clean cut through to capture and press him for information on where the rest of his hoard is.
Despite their tough exteriors, dark elves crack quite easily when it comes to torture.
Unsheathing my machete, I hold it down to my side with a firm grip. Off to the left of me, I see a bush move slightly. It’s a movement that would be lost if I hadn’t been focusing on it so intently.
I raise my weapon, moving as quietly as I can. The bush moves again, this time much more obvious. Slicing through it in a single hook of my wrist, I catch whatever is on the other side of it.
A garbled noise fills my ears, a grin stretching over my face. “Got you, you bastard.”
Pulling the bush apart, a mountain lion growls back at me. My machete is buried deep in its side, my hold of it forcing it down onto the ground.
“What…?”
There is a rumbling laugh that filters through my troop.
“Pitha’s caught himself a pet.”
I turn, glaring at Gor. “Funny.”
He flashes me a grin. “I am, yes.”
I rip my blade out of the mountain lion’s side and hook it around the animal’s throat, slashing it to put it out of its misery. There wouldn’t be a way for it to have survived my initial cut through its hind anyway.
“Well, at least we know our Chieftain can track animals. Might be good if one of the cooks runs out of meat for our stew.”
Another rumble of laughter from the troop.
Rolling my eyes, I head back over to my mount, wiping my blade on my leg. If I’m an immovable mountain, Gor is certainly a rolling wind.
“You have a lot to say for someone who, just last week, almost pissed himself over a bat flying overhead.”
Gor frowns at me. “That… was different. We were in a cave.”