FSE

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Thokgrim marched ahead of the group, his large body clad in a worn brown cloak. The orc's black eyes set on the vast plains ahead, searching for any sign of trouble. It had been three days since they had departed from the safety of the city's wall and besides meeting a few travelers on the road, the journey so far had been peaceful. Even so the orc stubbornly kept up his guard, the rumors of ambushes on this road circling his mind like a fly. He didn't like being so exposed, their ox-driven wagon a clear target for any bandit that dared approach. There were no covers in sight besides the odd tree or rock, and years of experience told Thokgrim that wouldn't be enough if it came to an ambush.

Guffaws came from behind him and the orc's hands flew to his knifes. The snickers that followed made his hand tighten around the pommel of his trusty hand, a few select curses leaving his mouth. Thorngrik looked over his shoulder and glared at the group of kobolds behind him, his latest clients. The small lizard men barely reached the olive orc's waist and yet their voices boomed all over the plains. Their limbs were all long and thin like tree branches, awful for holding a weapon, and their eyes shone with the zeal of life common to youth. Thokgrim hadn't stood a chance when they approached him in the tavern, heavy coin purses in their clawed hands. He had choked on his ale they asked him, a lone mercenary, if they had enough to hire his services. There had been no talk, no initial trade of pleasantries or brokering. The orc couldn't have taken them faster into a private room and given them a quick run down of how things worked on the surface. He may as well have been talking to stone for all it was worth, they trio of excited lizards hadn't stopped talking since they broke camp that morning.

The olive orc traded a glance with the rear guard mercenary, a stocky human wearing leather armor. The young woman just shrugged and went back to her watch, clearly resigned about their charges. Thokgrim shook his head and wished he could wash the sour taste of his mouth with some ale. The orc didn't get much time to grumble under his breath, before a cold weight settled on his gut. His body went rigid, his hands closing around his knives. Cracks appeared on the earth before him, shooting straight towards him.

“Get back" Thokgrim shouted before he jumped to the side. The ground collapsed beneath his feet and a piercing screech came from the darkness.

The orc rolled on the earth, rocks digging into his back. Screams and sobs reached his ears as he jumped back to his feet. A large snow white shape stood in front of him, rising 3 meters into the air and with a dozen thin squirming legs. Sharp fangs flashed on its wide mouth, a green slime falling from the border while pure black eyes reflected the orc's form. The monster let out another screech and threw its body towards him.

Thokgrim jumped to the side, a resounding crash reaching his ears. He dashed forward, the wriggling form of the beast at the edges of his vision. Another screech reached his ears, followed by a choking sound. Thokgrim leaped to the side, trusting his instincts. A sizzling came from the side, an acrid scent burned his nose. The beast lost no time, jumping towards the helpless kobolds with acid falling from his mouth.

“Thalia, get them out of here!" Thokgrim yelled, his legs beating the ground.

His blades flashed from under his cloak, a sickly green glow coming from its edges. The orc launched himself towards the worm, the large beast's body an easy target for his knives. Red liquid burst from the long wounds, a high pitched screech drowning all sound. Coal like eyes fell upon the orc, the host of fangs yearning for his blood.

Thokgrim didn't have a chance to check on his clients before the worm sent him flying with a swing from its tail. Thokgrim rolled over the ground, pain shooting from his chest and back. He grunted as he jumped back to his feet, the ferrous taste of blood invading his mouth.

Orc and worm fought with might, their bodies dancing around each other, death waiting for one to fall. The worm's acid flew without mercy where their fangs couldn't reach. The orc for his part, took every chance to leave thin red lines over the worm's pale skin, his tusk bared in defiance.

Thokgrim's world was reduced to the fight. The pumping of his blood, the burn of his lungs, the shortness of his breath, the tension on his limbs, It became all that filled his mind. He lived for every cut, for every jump, every hit his body took. Every move brought him closer to death, he could taste it in his mouth, but he didn't know whose it would be.

The beast reared back with a loud screech, its mouth opening wider than a cave. Thokgrim saw his chance as the beast jumped forward, the darkness of its inside growing before the old orc. Olive hands gripped the knives harder, his legs growing tense as he counted the seconds. The olive orc jumped back at the last moment, his body moving like a flash. A roar left his lips, an acrid stench hit his nose and his body was sent flying through the air. The crash left him breathless, the subsequent rolls cut at his skin and by the time he came to a stop the world was swirling around him.

A torturous screech made the orc roll on his side, a moan of pain coming from his lips. Far away from him, the worm was trashing all around, its large body hitting the ground with titanic strength. A glint of metal shone of its head and made the orc smile to himself. The worm fell to its side moments later, a final desperate screech leaving its horrid mouth before it grew silent.

The orc's body ached all over as he got up, his clothes torn and olive skin covered in burning scratches. Black eyes scanned the field with worry, a relieved sigh leaving his mouth when he spotted the wagon far in the distance.

“That should teach them." Thokgrim muttered to himself, the tone lacking any of its usual snark. His tusks framed the proud smile on his face as he limped towards the worm's body, intent on recovering his knives.