Orcii.

Something I've been writing over the past day, and still working on.

This story revolves around two Orcish brothers who were abandoned at birth, after their mother's home and town was ruthlessly burned to the ground by an Elven army. It involves their struggle to survive and get work.

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2. Hardship.

 

The harsh blizzard blinded the two Orc brothers as they walked aimlessly through the frozen tundra. Not much inhabited the Frozen North, except a small town, which the brothers happened to be heading too.

‘This blizzard is far too thick, I can’t see a thing!’ Marog shouted trying to talk over the howling gale. Marog was the huge, lumbering type, not smart nor stupid, but very well built. He was trained in swordsmanship when younger, much unlike his twin, Huygen, who was trained in the ways of magic. Huygen was much taller than Marog. He wore a draped cloak that covered most of his distinguished face. He towered over his much smaller brother, who wore very distinct Mithril armor, however, they shared the same facial features; they were twins after all.

‘This is exactly why I brought along protective eyewear,’ said Huygen. ‘You knew we would be walking through these parts, yet you refuse to take my advice as usual.’

Marog grunted. He would always grunt when put in his place. They carried on walking through the snow, both in complete unison as they always would: something they loved doing when they were younger. They were Orcs, and as time went on, their harshness began shining through, a certain personality trait of all Orcs. There was still warmth in their relationship, although. Huygen had excellent vision, something that came in quite handy in all situations. He also had a keen knack of pointing out the obvious, something that greatly annoyed Marog. In the distance, Huygen spotted a small cave, and with night drawing closer as well as the ever-growing blizzard becoming harsher, it served as an adequate place to stay the night.

‘Marog, look!’ said Huygen pointing to the cave in the distance. ‘Quite a perfect place to stay the night, don’t you think?’ Marog shuffled nervously.

‘Well, I don’t know, this place is notorious for snow trolls and wolves, and I’ll be damned if I’ll stay there tonight.’  He replied. Huygen slammed his hand down on Marog’s head with great force, making him snarl.

‘What the hell was that for!?’ Marog exclaimed. He squinted and rubbed the tender lump on his head from Huygen’s sudden strike.

‘I’m becoming frustrated with your whining,’ he replied. ‘Unless you want to stay out here and become food for wild animals, I suggest you comply.’ Marog groaned.

‘Look, I’ll even put up a ward spell, okay?’ Huygen’s bartering looked as if it had worked, as Marog began making his way toward the cave even quicker than before. Huygen chuckled to himself.

Upon reaching the cave, Marog threw everything he was carrying into the corner and immediately began working on making a fire with some wood he gathered earlier. Huygen caught him doing so and intervened.

‘No need for that,’ he said, clicking his fingers and summoning a flame. He waved his hand and released the flame, aiming for the bundle of wood that Marog had assembled. It caught alight and lit every nook and cranny in the freezing cave.

‘Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a cheat.’ said Marog referring to Huygen’s magical abilities.

‘Not a cheat, just productive.’ Huygen replied. He laughed heartily to himself alongside Marog.

Throughout all the arguments, they were still brothers, but they were bonded by something more relevant than that-They had to survive. Not only were they homeless, but finding work was incredibly difficult. People really didn’t find much use for two Orcs, one a brute, the other a tall, skinny know-it-all. They weren't particularly efficient, nor dependable, but they worked fiercely, until they had to wipe the sweat from their brows. They did of course, have each other, and that was more than enough to get by, especially when gathering food to cook. Hunting for dear was Marog’s favourite - It involved Huygen throwing a stunning spell at the poor creature, then of course, Marog would run in screaming, sword aloft ready to hack at it. This is where the brothers’ brutality would shine through; they were stone cold killers, they did what they could to survive like many others, whether that involved killing wildlife or not. Orcs were actually a cursed race-Somewhere along the evolutionary chain, something went terribly wrong resulting in pale or dark green skin, huge bottom teeth, almost like fangs, increased muscular growth(in most Orcs anyway), and small brains(also in most Orcs). The two brothers only shared a few of these traits, both very intelligent, Huygen more so than Marog, and muscular, Marog more so than Huygen. Everything in the two Orcs’ cave seemed to be in order. Huygen walked towards the entrance, and without looking back raised his long, pointed fingers at the arched entrance and began muttering strings of magical words.

Barut, khazard barut.’ – Translated, this means, “Protection, bountiful protection.” A very powerful ward spell that Huygen had perfected at just the age of 10-It actually made the cave entrance looked closed off to passers-by outside, when in reality, it was just an illusion. Huygen was an incredibly gifted Sorcerer, he was taught all he knew by the revered Sorcerer, Archmage Gurile. Well, most of what he knew, from an early age he was rather mischievous and practically unteachable, so instead, after learning the basic spells of course, he was given a spell book in which he was to learn the more advanced spells from over the course of his life. He is still only half way through, but progress is steady.

‘Here, I’ve put up that ward spell you wanted, so hopefully now you won’t cry,’ said Huygen, in a mocking tone. He loved to wind his brother up. It usually resulted in a fist fight, but this time, Marog stayed surprisingly calm.

‘Okay, I’ll be able to sleep now, knowing I won’t be getting my face gnawed off by a snow wolf-They’re sneaky bastards!’ replied Marog, chuckling. Huygen raised an eyebrow in suspicion, why was Marog not retaliating as usual?

Perhaps he’s just tired!’ Huygen thought to himself. He hated the thought of his brother turning soft on him. In his mind, Marog was a warrior, someone who was born to be ruthless and show no mercy-Someone who has a lot of anger to release. He was of course, wrong. Huygen was the one who had a lot of anger to release-Ever since finding out that his mother’s death was caused by an Elven army, something ferocious ticked in his head. He hasn’t been right since. Marog, on the other hand, just tends to accept what has happened in his past life. They way of peace means a lot to him, but when asked to do something, he will happily oblige, even if it means killing.  Huygen turned round at the sound of Marog’s low, rumbling snores as he slept peacefully. He looked tranquil when he slept.

‘Goodnight, Marog,’ Huygen said softly. ‘May Ghurmani watch over you.’ Ghurmani was the god that all Orcii placed their undying faith in. It gave them hope, peace and the strength required to carry on when needed. All these combined replenished all Orcs’ very souls.

 

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