Entry Point 14 - by Wayne Borean
The Ebulonite sergeant gawked at the blue-green whirlpool that had formed above the battlements. He quickly sent a recruit running to find a superior officer. A few moments later a senior captain huffed his way up the stairs. He stopped, and stared bright eyed at the apparition.
“What,” he started to ask when a dark skinned, short, heavily muscled man dressed in a white silk toga trimmed with red stripes, burst from the centre of the whirlpool, grabbed him by the front of his armor, and lifted him one handed into the air.
The sergeant shocked, hesitated, and was lost. A shapely leg appeared, followed by a blue eyed red haired head, wearing a rather thin green silk dress, with her left breast bare. The nipple that winked at him mesmerized him. “Men,” she commented sadly. “Husband, put him down. Now. Before you embarrass us.”
The short, heavily muscled man did so, with ease. The captain guessed that he was no more than five feet tall, but must weigh close to one hundred and eighty pounds, looking more like a dark skinned, black haired, heroic statue than a real person. In fact with his tanned leather colored skin he was darker skinned than most of the Orcs…
No. No Orc was that handsome, scars or not. And the man had scars. He couldn’t be all that old, maybe twenty at the outside, but you could see where he’d been wounded a few times. Minor wounds, but wounds.
Another leg appeared, followed by another blue eyed red haired head. Identical woman, identical dress except yellow, identical nipple. The sergeant shuddered, and drew his gaze up to her eyes. They were cool, amused. She reached behind, and helped through a third woman, this one no taller than the man, wearing the same style of dress in red, but as dark skinned, and black haired as he was.
Another delightful nipple to avoid looking at, this one purple from pregnancy. Just great. Staring at the woman he almost missed seeing the tawny head, with dark tipped ears, till a snarl drew his eyes down to about her waist, where a large cat like creature strode. Cat like. Large blue-green eyes stared up at him, a thick tawny, dark tipped tail lashed in impatience.
The red head in green continued, “You called for help. The Goddess asked us to come. We are here. You should be honored that she was willing to spare her Beloved,” and bowed to the short man she’d indicated as her husband, her uncovered breast bobbing hypnotically. “And where the Beloved of the Goddess goes, so go his wives, the priestesses of the Goddess.”
Continusing, “You were lucky. The Imperator was free currently.” She looked at the blank look the captain gave her. “Strange. The Goddess gave us the ability to be understood, that word must not be in your language. Supreme War Leader? Does that make sense?”
The captain nodded. Still stunned, it was all he could do.
“He’s also our greatest warrior, as well as junior member of the Imperial Senate from our family,” she continued. “And Beloved of the Goddess for his services to her.”
A look over her shoulder at the pregnant woman with the incredible creature, now sitting at her feet. “We must rush. Kanerva is near her time. I am Pirjo, please tell us what needs doing.”
“So,” continued the woman in green, “Facing this gate is the Eagle Horde, made up of a number of tribes. Brrck is the leader because they couldn’t agree on anyone else, but he isn’t a warrior. The previous leader, Grg wasn’t a warrior either. The tribes wouldn’t name a warrior as Horde leader, for fear a popular warrior might gain too much power. The tribes don’t really agree on anything, though there are two general factions, and several smaller ones, correct?”
The captain very carefully looked her in the eye. When his gaze had wandered downwards towards the delightfully tanned breast earlier there had been a worrying growling noise from her husband, who she continued to refer to as ‘Beloved of the Goddess’ and nothing else.
“Yes. We can’t drive them away, we don’t have enough troops left, and if we don’t drive them away, they’ll come over the wall before long and masacare us. Or eat us. I’m not sure which would be worse.”
He paused. “How do you stand the cold?”
“The Goddess provides,” she replied simply.
Then she looked at her husband. Their husband. One man with three wives? Preposterous. But the two red heads stood beside him, while he massaged the pregnant wive’s bare feet, the beast curled beside him. He looked up at the one in green, made a sign with one hand, and nodded yes.
She nodded back, and said, “In that case, we need a place where we can make an announcement to the Orcs.”
The dark skinned man strode out onto the balcony like he owned it. No, like he owned the entire city. The Orcs didn’t notice. They continued their usual affairs, mending armor, tending wounded from the last attack, cooking, eating, readying scaling ladders.
The man took a place at the front of the balcony, the beast standing on its hind legs, muscled front legs on the balcony railing. It let out a most horrible sounding noise. It might have been a roar.
That got the Orcs attention. Everything stopped as they looked up at the balcony. The small dark man raised a well used, well kept long sword above his head, then lowered it towards them.
Pirjo, the priestess in green took a position to his right, Reeta the priestess in yellow took the other side. Kanerva, the very pregnant priestess in red stood where she could be seen for a minute, and then sat on a chair supplied by the sergeant with a ladylike grunt, the cat-beast curled up beside her.
Pirjo spoke, in what appeared to be a conversational tone to those on the balcony, but it was apparent that the Orcs heard her clearly. Apparently the Goddess had made sure the Orcs could understand her too.
“Orcs of the Eagle Horde, we are priestesses of the Goddess. Our husband, who is Beloved of the Goddess will fight your chosen representative in single combat for possession of this gate. Choose your representative.”
The ‘Beloved of the Goddess’ sheathed his sword, crossed his arms on his chest, and waited.
A buzz came from the assembled tribes. On the hilltop where the Eagle Horde leaders were standing a disagreement became evident. The one identified as Brrck shouted back at them, “This is no trick? We get the gate if our warrior wins?”
The ‘Beloved of the Goddess’ raised his sword again. Pirjo said, “Yes, you get the gate. But you will not win.”
That caused an even bigger stir. The evident confidence of the man on the balcony was an insult to all Orcs.
But not all Orcs were stupid. Brrck was holding forth at length and with great volume. He was convinced that this was a trap of some sort. Then a spear point tore through his back and out from his chest in a shower of gore. This upset the other Orc leaders, and the hilltop dissolved into a melee, as Orcish politics beget Orcish violence.
Pirjo breathed, “You were right husband.”
The ‘Beloved of the Goddess’ winked.
Several Orcs fled the fighting on the hilltop towards their tribes. The Cardinal Tribe, from which Brrck came, had been watching the hilltop. They were furious that one of theirs, even if he wasn’t a great warrior, had been killed. All of the tribe’s warriors, over three thousand strong, rushed the hilltop, weapons drawn.
Their traditional enemies, the Pelicans, were slow to react. By the time that the Pelicans realized what was happening, the Cardinals were slaughtering everyone on the hilltop. Fifteen hundred Pelicans rushed the Cardinals. The neighboring Panther and Turkey tribes, another three thousand warriors, reacted to the Pelican advance by following them into the fray.