Orc Calamity

Phillip would wake up when a heavy bump in the road caused his bucketed head to slam against the floor of the wagon. He would lift his head, and survey. Seeing nothing changed, he would go back to sleep. Though hearing his stomach protest, he simply didn't have the mood to look for rations. It wasn't his first time going without eating... He still hurt from head to toe, so he wanted to continue sleeping. A cheap trick he learned when he was younger... Sleep heals. He remembered that he slept for almost two months with only waking a few times when his sister roused him to eat or to relieve himself...

"...Sis..." Phillip twitched in his sleep, and every so often and would mumble something about his teeth and sister.

Three days later, it was battle cries and screams of servants that jolted him awake. Feeling much better in his body, but a bit of weakness due to lack of food, he got to his feet, and jumped out the back of the wagon, when he found that Simon was already missing.

"Orcs?!" Phillip shouted shocked, through his teeth it sounded funny when he raised his voice now with the absence of his bottom two canines.

In that brief look over the wagon train, Phillip could see the broad shoulder, tall, and muscle packed greenskins... Those greenskins was the common name, he also saw Orcs with tan skin, some with a reddish hue. They wielded mighty axes and were mostly bear on their upper bodies. It was amazing that the few guards hired by Lord Godalming were slashing them with their swords, and other than getting a roar out of them, it seemed not to stop them!

He looked to his lord fighting with the Orc, as best he could. He was swift in his actions and was expertly piercing the vitals of each order than charged him. He didn't slash at his enemies, as much as he fenced with his swordplay. Simon was to the side dancing around with an Orc until another Orc slammed him in the back sending the small armored brat flying through the air, as the Orcs laughed at his misery.

To Phillips horror, Lord Godalming was finally rushed by a mob of Orcs as they drowned him in brawn. As a massive double-bladed ax lifted into the air, Phillip knew that his lord was going to be killed, and his only chance to be a Knight was going to die with him.

Finally, back in his frame of mind, he sat out to save that god-awful lord, not for him, but for himself.

With his nerves taut, Phillip finally gave himself permission to use all of his strength. Never in his life had he ever brought his full strength to bear against any living creature, but today, with his 150kg weight behind him, he charged.

Slamming into the back of the nearest Orc knocking him over, as he continued to get to Lord Godalming.

It seemed that double-bladed ax paused in mid-air, as the Orc looked over to a half armored unstoppable force coming.

Two Orcs gathered to the side jumped to intercede, but with the dull practice sword draw, Phillip wacked the head of one Orc causing him to become slack-jawed and fall to the ground with brains spilling from his cranium.

The second Orc dodged the hit and brought his mace to bear on the c.h.e.s.t of Phillip, knocking him down with a caved c.h.e.s.t piece of armor.

The Orc brought his axe down, and with the sharp sound of splitting steel, and that sickly-sweet sound of juicy flesh splitting. Lord Godalming died with his eyes still open in disbelief... With one question in mind... The marauding Orc reports were supposed to be forecasted to be low... why...?

Phillip rolled over to his stomach to get over, at the time another mace blow met his back slamming him into the ground.

With a low grunt and a mouth of blood, Phillip spat and grabbed the leg of the Orc that came next to him.

With his large pudgy hand, he pulled on that leg sending the Orc toppling.

Phillip crawled on hands and knees, and got both his hands on that Orcs leg, as he shouted to vent his anger.

"CRACK!!!!"

The Orc's leg now bent to an odd angle, as the bone ruptured the skin sending dark red blood spraying.

Phillip got to his feet, with the help of the Orcs Mace, as he used the mace to pound his own c.h.e.s.t, as he yelled, "COME ON! COME ON! AH AH AH!"

The grinning Orc looked to the half-armored fighter, and a strange smile crossed his lips over his tusks.

[...Sis... I... come....]

*******

Soon light flooded into his field of vision, as his stomach would no longer allow him to stay unconscious. Phillip roused himself, as he rolled to his b.u.t.t to sit up.

"Oh ho! You're awake little fellow?"

Phillip heard a gruff older voice, as he peered through the slits on his helmet. As he couldn't turn his neck, he moved his body to see where the voice came from, and then discovered he was in a cage.

Being jostled, he looked through the bars and found the scenery moving.

"You've been out for a few days... Thought you were dead. Glad you're not... The others refuse to talk to me, so I hope that you will."

With his body twisting, Phillip saw an old skinny Orc sitting in another cage right next to his.

He was a brownish red-skinned orc. So skinny and unusual to how Orcs were betrayed he looked like death with his bones barely covered by skin. Phillip could tell that at one time he must have been a massive warrior as his bracers and belt were large... Now hung off of his arms and waist as if to threaten to fall off.

"Is there anything to eat?" Phillip asked as he fumbled around.

"Well, they don't feed passed out and dead, but take mine... It's not like I have much appetite, but I don't know how a human will feel about Orc rations." The old Orc threw the harden nut bread through the two cages. It landed in front of Phillip with a small bang. Phillip picked it up and gave it a glance. It looked like bread, but it was lots of nuts mashed together and cut into a bar.

Not caring and just wanting to eat it, Phillip went to take off his helmet. Phillip tried to twist the helmet off... Take it off directly, but try as he might... It would not detach from his c.h.e.s.t armor.

[Hell! AHHHH] Phillip put in his bit of strength and only managed to press in the sides of his helmet, but, even though dented, it would not release.

"Calm down there. If you can't take it off, that's fine. Just break the bar up and put it through the slits on the mask. Even an old Orc like me can tell you're too weak to get that off your head." Though the old Orc said that, he marveled at the amount of strength this human displayed even though he knew for a fact he hadn't eaten in days, as he had witnessed this firsthand.

Phillip grabbed the bar up again and crumbled it. He leaned back and shoved it through the slits of his helmet until the pieces fell into his waiting maw.

Like this, he was able to consume this dry ration.

"You'll have to wait until later for more."

Phillip attempted to nod but do to his helmet and armor he grunted a few times to acknowledge.

"Let's introduce ourselves. My name is Jukzuk Blacktongue the Trader..."

Phillip could hear the sorrow in the voice of the old Orc when he said his name, as Phillip said his own, "My name is Phillip."

"..." The old Orc gave a strange look.

"What?"

"Last name? Title?" The old Orc pushed.

Phillip laughed a few times, "I have neither a last name or a title... Hahaha, why would I have those!"

The old Orc thought for a moment then realized, "Human, no... Phillip. Phillip, you come from a poor background, but... How haven't you made a title with your strength?"