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Wolf Amongst Sheep
With more than a little effort, he maintained his composure, nodding and replying woodenly to the armoured man standing next to him. The two had exchanged names earlier, and the human was called Blake if he remembered correctly, and claimed to be an initiate of the Legion. The man continued with his speech, telling of his aspirations to ascend the ranks of the Legion, but Altherion found it hard to concentrate. The lightly armoured warrior to his left was unknown to him, remaining silent as Blake spoke, with merely the occasional nod.
His ears twitched slightly, as if pained, and he held back a grimace as a pause in the man’s speech was answered by the guttural sound of the creature’s reply. Looking over at it, he could feel nothing but disgust. It stood head and shoulders above the three of them, with arms and legs resembling tree trunks. No portion of its body seemed devoid of a weapon of some sort, all hung in brazen display.
“...the founder of my tribe was a great Orc, who singlehandedly slew his entire tribe” the Orc said in a tone which implied great respect, even reverence. What utter nonsense! In his head, he scoffed at the ridiculousness of the Orcs lies. He knew what Orcs were. His people had fought against them for millennia, and despite the magic and swordcraft of the People, many brave warriors had died at the hands of the brutes.
It was only a matter of time before the beast revealed its true colours. It had admitted itself to already having killed a young Elven girl. In ‘self-defence’ so it claimed, but who could trust the words of such a creature? Perhaps it had been hungry, or merely savored the sound and feel of its blades rending flesh. It could easily have knocked her unconscious, or even fled, rather than killing her. After all, what could such a brute fear from one girl?
His gaze drifted to the Emiliana Blackwell, standing some distance away conversing with another woman. She tolerated its presence, perhaps even welcomed it...who could know her mind? The Legion soldiers and Blackwood guards let it walk freely, even so far as within their own encampment it seemed. He knew not whether they did so wholeheartedly or grudgingly under orders. No doubt some of them had lost family and comrades to the Orcs, how then could they not harbor ill-will? Fools, all of them. They would find out the truth sooner or later...
Until then, he would wait and watch. When the time came, perhaps he would even be the one to send the creature back to arms of its wretched one-eyed God. As this thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but smile a little in satisfaction.
With more than a little effort, he maintained his composure, nodding and replying woodenly to the armoured man standing next to him. The two had exchanged names earlier, and the human was called Blake if he remembered correctly, and claimed to be an initiate of the Legion. The man continued with his speech, telling of his aspirations to ascend the ranks of the Legion, but Altherion found it hard to concentrate. The lightly armoured warrior to his left was unknown to him, remaining silent as Blake spoke, with merely the occasional nod.
His ears twitched slightly, as if pained, and he held back a grimace as a pause in the man’s speech was answered by the guttural sound of the creature’s reply. Looking over at it, he could feel nothing but disgust. It stood head and shoulders above the three of them, with arms and legs resembling tree trunks. No portion of its body seemed devoid of a weapon of some sort, all hung in brazen display.
“...the founder of my tribe was a great Orc, who singlehandedly slew his entire tribe” the Orc said in a tone which implied great respect, even reverence. What utter nonsense! In his head, he scoffed at the ridiculousness of the Orcs lies. He knew what Orcs were. His people had fought against them for millennia, and despite the magic and swordcraft of the People, many brave warriors had died at the hands of the brutes.
It was only a matter of time before the beast revealed its true colours. It had admitted itself to already having killed a young Elven girl. In ‘self-defence’ so it claimed, but who could trust the words of such a creature? Perhaps it had been hungry, or merely savored the sound and feel of its blades rending flesh. It could easily have knocked her unconscious, or even fled, rather than killing her. After all, what could such a brute fear from one girl?
His gaze drifted to the Emiliana Blackwell, standing some distance away conversing with another woman. She tolerated its presence, perhaps even welcomed it...who could know her mind? The Legion soldiers and Blackwood guards let it walk freely, even so far as within their own encampment it seemed. He knew not whether they did so wholeheartedly or grudgingly under orders. No doubt some of them had lost family and comrades to the Orcs, how then could they not harbor ill-will? Fools, all of them. They would find out the truth sooner or later...
Until then, he would wait and watch. When the time came, perhaps he would even be the one to send the creature back to arms of its wretched one-eyed God. As this thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but smile a little in satisfaction.
