The Orc
Continuing the adventures of the Adventurer, this time our fellow protagonist has stumbled onto an ancient room. However, what he finds is something rather surprising and soothing.
(Please, if you enjoy the work, please take the time to get some ko-fi, https://ko-fi.com/A7781HRT. As much as the author likes to be paid in belly scritches, they don't pay for food.)
The adventurer ran as quickly as he could. The sun was coming down. Dusk would soon set. His feet could not stop. Each door way seemed like an accursed omen. He then stopped at one room in particular. Somehow, his gut instinct told him that this was would lead to safety. He budged the door until it sprang open. The door was shut behind him. He stepped back, drawing his sword from its sheath.
Silence.
He turned around as he got familiar with his surrounds. Peculiar, didn't even describe it. The walls seemed to be naturally formed, with rocks jutting and jagged edges. While it seemed to be the least architecturally impossible, there happened to be more queer sights. Paintings crudely fitted. Some rocks painted with colors. Tapestries hung slant.
Strings.
An array of strings could be heard down the corridor. Each one playing their own symphony it seemed. The adventurer stepped closer into the corridor. Closer to the strings. The closer he gotten, the more lavished the lair seemed. Silken folds encompassed most of the main room. As he passed through the sheets, the louder the playing got. Until he lifted one of the curtains.
“Salutations-,"
He laid upon the pillows. An Orc about twice the size of the adventurer. His tusks, reaching to the tip of his nose. His hair was wrapped in a traditional ponytail. He seemed a lot more…'pudgier' than the average ominous beast. And his clothes were a bit different. Rather than leathers or armor, he only wore a loincloth with a vest, which was intricately decorated.
“Salutations."
The adventurer drew out his sword, his blade an inch away from the Orc's neck.
“Fiend! You either aid my quest or be cut by my blade."
The orc, drew in closer, the tip almost piercing.
“Do it. After all, how shall an orc like I aid you when the only craft I know of is the craft of song."
The adventurer sheathed his sword. So, this was where the music was coming from he thought.
“So you're a bard."
The orc nodded.
“Aye, and not a good one either. I can only do so much with my strings. Can only do so much with my voice. Alas! Not even the strength I was given by my forbearers could even lift the meekest of men!"
A tear stroked down the orc's face.
Silence.
The adventurer gave to solemn glance to the somber orc. He sheathed his sword and kneeled, stroking the tear from the eye.
“Maybe. But maybe strength has not been used to your potential."
The Orc looked up to the adventurer. “What say you? Knave who would strike me down."
The adventurer looked away. “Yes. But what if I told you that strength doesn't have to be based on your arms. But your heart."
The Orc looked deep into the adventurer's eyes. Time almost stood still as they both stood in silence.
Then the Orc laughed. “Ha! 'Heart'! I haven't heard such dreck in a long while!"
The adventurer gave a slight chuckle. “Now, don't get me wrong. I mean something more than kindness. Much more."
The Orc scratched the stubble on his chin. “Hmmm. I'll take your word for it. What say you and your tale?"
The adventurer cleared his throat and began his tale.
“Once upon a time, there was a dragon far North from the Castle. It had terrorized almost every corner and every inch of the kingdom's domain. The King sent forth his noblest and bravest knights he could find. And one by one did they perish. Their savagery marked their fate within the flame. However, amidst all of this, there came upon the foot a throne, a rather peculiar character. Firstly, no half-orc had ever set foot near the kingdom, much less the throne. The Half-Orcs usually preferred to stay within the West. But more importantly, in his hand laid a lyre, lavished in oak and golden strings. The King stood from his chair, 'What has my aide bring me?' The Half Orc smirked at the King. 'It is but I, for I will slay your beast.' 'And with what shall you slay it with?' The Half Orc raised his lyre proudly 'With this, my lord.'"
“And so the King, with much hesitancy, sent the Half Orc to the illustrious caverns of the beast. With lyre in his hand he treaded the cave where the dragon lay. He stepped forth, hands trembling but the smirk still on his face."
“'Greetings my lord.' Spoke the Half Orc. The Dragon awoke from his slumber, his bedding made out of the finest platinum.
'You!' Shouted the Dragon as he drifted through the priceless gems and scrolls. 'What brings you to trench my treacherous depths?'
The smirk grew wider. The Half Orc knew he won his prize. 'I have come a long ways,' said the Half Orc. 'To bring to you some fellow entertainment. I have heard certain boastful rumors throughout the Plains and wanted to see if you lend an ear on my tales.'
The Dragon, boisterous and vain, accepted his offer. And so the Half Orc played, his strings humming through the beast's ear. The melody soothed his scales and massaged his inner mind. He went limp. Well, most of him. His cock however, was harder than a rock. What was now so might and strong was meek and weak.
The Half Orc stopped playing. He dropped his lyre and unbuckled his trousers. The tool between his legs was pulsating by the second. The next few hours were nothing but primal, carnal delight. Both took pleasure in each other's warmth and company. The desire radiated throughout the cavern, as fluids were spread and shared. The Half Orc had done it. He seduced the beast."
The Adventurer looked over the Orc. His hand was stroking his shaft.
“And then what?" asked the Orc.
“'And then what' what?"
The Orc groaned, putting his mast back into his pants.
“If you're plan was to get one off, I got one advice for you: details."
The Orc went back to tuning the lyre when he heard the Adventurer laughed.
“No friend! Don't you get it."
He bent over and clasped the Orc's shoulder.
“You're lyre. It means more than just an instrument. It can be a useful tool. More so than you ever can believe. Only you can unlock that potential."
The Orc stood up and sighed.
“While I think you're story is hodgepodge, it's been a while since I've left this room. I'll accompany you."
The Adventurer grabbed the Orc's hand and pulled him off of the pillows.
“Well my friend. It's great that you can join my aid. Now, onwards?"
The Orc nodded.
“Onwards. I would rather see the end of this castle then rot in my misery."