An Adventuring Orc - Chapter 2

  • Chapter 2 - Trouble at Helgen

    “Malacath's teeth!” swore Kraltorrik under his breath. Turning to the blonde Nord directly across from him, he asked, “What are you called, Nord?”

    “I'm Ralof, of Riverwood,” replied the man, with just a hint of a smile crossing his lips. “That thief over there is Lokir of Rorikstead, and the man sitting next to you is Ulfric Stormcloak, the High King of Skryim.”

    Hearing that struck Kraltorrik as odd, seeing as how the High King of Skyrim was bound and gagged in the same wagon as the rest of them. He turned to his right and studied Ulfric for a second. Ulfric had the typical shoulder length blonde hair of most inhabitants of the northern regions, as well as a beard. He was strangely solemn, and definitely had the bearing of one who was born to lead. While he was gagged and bound, he seemed like the type of man to just break free of all his bonds should he have the inclination.

    Ralof interrupted Kraltorrik's assessment of Ulfric, pointing out a small town in the distance. “That's Helgen. I used to be sweet on a lass from there.”

    Helgen? The name was unfamiliar to him. Why were they stopping in some Malacath-forsaken village? What did they plan on doing with their new prisoners? These questions and more flooded through the mind of the young orc as they entered the town of Helgen. They passed a man in Imperial armor flanked on both sides by Thalmor agents. With a start, Kraltorrik recognized the man: General Tulius. He had seen him a few times back in Cyrodiil, during his wanderings across Tamriel, before his fortunes took him to Morrowind. The old, leather skinned man was in his late forties, perhaps, and had the looks of a man who had fought many wars, and lost few.

    The presence of General Tullius here changed everything. If the Imperial legion had captured Jarl Ulfric, the head of the Stormcloaks, as the prisoners were called, then that could only mean one thing. Tullius meant to end the rebellion right here! With a start, Kraltorrik realized that his head would probably also be one of the ones to roll today.

    The wagons carrying the prisoners lumbered through Helgen. It was a typical Nord village, comprised of a gate and a wall surrounding a few houses, an inn, and a blacksmith's forge. Kraltorrik watched as people peered out from their windows, some coming out onto their porches to jeer at the prisoners.

    “Death to the Stormcloaks!”

    “Justice!”

    It was clear that the prevalent sentiment in Helgen was in favor of the Imperials. Kraltorrik wished he had known a little bit more of the cause that he was apparently going to die for, as the prisoners were shoved out of the wagons and called by name to the chopping block. He missed the comforting steadiness of his axe. He was also hungry. The cool morning air had worked up quite the appetite in him.

    One of the lieutenants, a tall blonde man, strikingly similar to most of the Stormcloaks that Kraltorrik had met, was calling out names on a list, when he noticed the orc and gave a start. Kraltorrik was confused by his reaction. Even though he was of an average size among the orcs, he still was only a few inches taller and broader than the man staring at him now. His horned brows were not nearly as aggressive as some orcs he had seen, and Kralorrik's only tattoo was a single red line adorning the left side of his face. In other words, Kraltorrik was a formidable warrior, but not nearly as intimidating as to receive that particular reaction out of the legionnaire. Kraltorrik could not discern the cause of the man's consternation, and so he waited for the legionnaire's questions.

    “Who are you?” the legionnaire asked, confused.

    With a jolt, Kraltorrik realized what had surprised the man so much! He was not on the list to be beheaded! Perhaps Malacath would spare him yet. Then all hope was lost as the captain of the guard overheard the legionnaire and glanced over.

    “Hadvar, he goes to the block as well. Not taking any chances this time.”

    Hadvar looked at Kraltorrik, a sad expression crossing his face. “Sorry, Orc, orders are orders. We'll make sure your remains are sent to one of the Orc strongholds for a proper burial.” He turned away, calling out the name of the next captive on the list.

    The first man to go was one of the Stormcloaks who had been in the other wagon. To his credit, he was courageous to the last moment, even smiling at the executioner before the giant hooded man's huge double axe severed his head from his shoulders. Kraltorrik shuddered when he realized that his head would soon follow.

    Of course he did not realize how soon. The captain's voice rang out, “Next, the orc!” Kraltorrik squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and moved forward. At least he would die strong, just as Malacath wanted all his children to die. He barely noticed the unearthly screech that rent the skies, causing a slight panic in all the soldiers around him. All he could see was the chopping block, and all he could feel was the harsh wood of the chopping block pressed against his face, and the boot of one of the Imperial soldiers keeping him in place. In a final act of defiance, he turned his face upward to cast a smirk at the hooded executioner.

    What Kraltorrik saw at that moment would change his life, and the fate of the world, forever.  

    (endnote: hey guys if you're all the way at the bottom here then thanks for reading! Any comments about what you thought or if you liked it are really appreciated. They also help me grow as a writer  so any constructive criticism is welcomed. thanks! )

Comments

2 Comments
  • Casey Bui
    Casey Bui   ·  September 9, 2014
    @Laurie
    Thanks! I'm so glad you liked it. Im still working on forming an overall personality for Kraltorrik so im glad he's even a little interesting at this point :) 
  • Laurie Bear
    Laurie Bear   ·  September 9, 2014
    I am no professor of literature but I like your story, your main character is believe able to me and I like that, You gave enough to make me want to know more about him