Mercenary Tales 58.

Vexil. 

Dorc da Orc hears voices, and for once they're not his own. Those numerous voices in his head that always annoy him. These voices he does not recognize. 

Then the large ork realizes that he's been knocked out, and that he's coming out of unconsciousness. 

And for pretty much one of the few times in his life. The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world. 

Doesn't wake up kicking and screaming, or to be exact growling and grumbling as he normally does after being knocked out. 

This time the ork warleader decides to stay completely still, and listen to these strange voices. 

So that he can try to figure out what's happening. For all that he remembers, is that he fought some people on a street to the east of the center of the city of Vexil. 

The ork general in the Armies of Farque who feels like he's sitting on a floor, propped up against a wall. 

Refrains from moving or making any sounds, even though he's certain that he has numerous wounds across his large body. 

Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name hears a fit of coughing first, followed by a female voice say "Damn that hurts". That voice is strained and croaky to the ears of the ork weaponsmith, not to mention human. 

"I told you not to drink any water, and let it rest" says another voice, this one male, human, and older. 

"You could of done a better job" loudly mutters the female, which gets a response from the second voice of "I told you I'm not that great at healing". 

"Tell me about it" dryly says a third voice, also male, and human to the enhanced hearing of the warleader of the ork race. 

"Well you're alive" says the second voice, who Dorc is pretty certain is a spellcaster by the scent of him. 

"That's more can be said about Brynn, Sorna, Gillomōnt and Fessum" says the spellcaster, who continues with "And who knows when Salinéll and Jarkellé will gain consciousness". A grunt comes from the third voice, and from the female too. 

The practitioner of magic after a moments pause, adds "Bloody lucky I realized that was poison it spat" followed by "I barely got a wind spell off to blow it away before it killed more of us". 

The third voice says "The guard will be looking for us now" followed by "Especially since we left the other's bodies behind". 

"I know" says the spellcaster, who then sourly says "Well at least we got the ork I guess" he continues with "Salinéll will be happy with that". 

"Whenever she wakes up" dryly says the third voice, which earns a muttered "Not worth four of us dying for" from the practitioner of magic. 

Dorc da Orc who maybe a little slow at times working things out. Especially after being knocked out, and slowly regaining consciousness. 

But he figures these are some of the people who attacked him, those he along with Lord Farque and Beldane the cleric have been after. 

The large ork also realizes that he killed some of them from what he's heard. The ork who is a general in the Armies of Farque suddenly remembers he killed one of the elves with a hit to the head with one of his throwing axes. 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world is pretty certain he killed another. A younger human, with a gut shot by one of his throwing knives. 

The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks also recalls the first one he killed, by biting the man's face off. 

So that leaves one other, who must of succumbed to the poison that Dorkindle spat after taking a glass vial of it, which turned gaseous once it mixed with air. 

The ork warleader was hoping to kill more of them with the poison. But by magical means the rest of them survived. 

Though by the sounds of things they took damage from it. And that two of them, elves by their names, are still unconscious, even though they've been healed. 

Dorc da Orc hears a door open, and he takes a quick, and quiet sniff to try and figure out where he is. The large ork immediately realizes that he's under ground somewhere. 

The door closes, and a new voice says "They're definitely not happy" followed by "They want to either kill it, or leave". 

The fourth voice, the new one, also human and male, continues with "I told them they're getting paid too damn much to leave" followed by "And if anyone is going to kill it, it's going to be us, not those two". 

The spellcaster asks the new voice "And the other mercenaries?". "They're still up for it" is the response from the fourth voice, who continues on with "The up in the town as well, looking out for any trouble". 

Dorkindle who is trying not to move, as his broken right leg is itchy as hell at the moment. Is pretty certain he caught a scent in the distance, when the door briefly opened. 

The ork weaponsmith refrains from sneering and scowling, as he's sure he caught the scent of a couple of trolls in the distance. 

Trolls being only second behind dwarves in hate from the ork warleader. Though the hate for trolls that Dorc da Orc has towards them. Is actually personal more than anything else. 

Because some trolls in the northern mountains of the southern polar region, captured and cut off the legs of one of Dorkindle's best friends, No Legs Munga. Who was just Munga at the time. Running into the trolls is how Munga got his full name. 

"I see you've been at it Kynil" says the fourth voice, who continues with "It's starting to look like a bloody pin cushion over there". 

"It's what it deserves" says the female voice, who continues on with "I'd be at more, but it stinks so damn much I don't want to get close to it that often". 

The third voice grunts in agreement, then sourly says "Bloody ugly thing smells like a pile of wet shit" followed by "It's worse than a midden heap during the height of summer". 

Dorc da Orc slightly frowns at that, wondering what the hell a midden heap is, especially what one smells like during summer. 

That slight frown is noticed by the fourth voice, who says "I think it's waking up" followed by "Pretty sure I saw it's face move". 

Margin the wizard looks at the prisoner, then at Mercer who nods and tells him "I'm sure of it" which earns a grunt from the spellcasters in the dark red robes. 

Then the practitioner of magic, who is essentially in charge with Salinéll the elven maiden unconscious at the moment. 

Looks over at Kynil and mimes something. The sword mistress grimaces, then nods her head in reply. 

Kynil, with a hand covering her nose and mouth makes her way over to the large ork who they've captured. 

And with her blade in hand, the sword mistress uses it to whack the broken bone sticking out of the ork's right thigh. 

Dorc da Orc hisses in pain, and his eyes open wide, before he growls at the sword mistress Kynil, who is backing away from him. 

The ork warleader looks down and finds that he's tied up with a heavy chain, that's pinned into the floor and wall, holding him secure. 

The large ork figures he could easily break out of them, even with how injured he is at the moment. But he can barely move, and he knows why. 

The heavy chain absolutely reeks of magic to the sense of smell of the ork weaponsmith. 

Dorkindle glares at his captors in the lamp lit underground chamber. From the sounds of it to his enhanced hearing, one of a number of underground chambers rooms and passages, where ever here is. 

"Cunts" growls Dorc da Orc, who after a brief pause, grins then continues with "Me gonna fucken kill ya cunts just like your other cunt friends". 

No replies come from the four of them. Then Margin the wizard finally breaks the silence and says "Dorc da Orc". 

"How these cunts know me name?" mutters the ork warleader in his native language as he looks at four of his captors who are in the chamber with him. 

"You're probably wondering why we've captured you" continues the practitioner of magic in the dark red robes. The large ork is wondering exactly that, but he's not going to voice it. 

"It's because of what you did during the war" says Margin answering his own question, as all four of them watch the ork who is tied securely to the wall and floor by a magically enhanced chain. 

"Which war?" asks the ork weaponsmith in the common language, who continues in a dry tone with "Dorc been in a lot of them you dumb fucken cunt". 

"The Battle of Vexil" says the spellcaster who finds himself in charge as Salinéll the elven maiden is unconscious, still to wake up after being caught up in some of the poison sprayed by the large ork. 

And is only alive, along with Jarkellé because Margin hurriedly healed the two elves from the principality of Alínlae. 

Dorkindle grins, then chuckles, then he says "Me 'member that one" followed by "That was a good fucken one". 

The big burly ork from the southern polar region of the world then murmurs in his native tongue "That's when we meet that cunt Killer". Referring to Mira Reinholt the mage. 

The others are all silent as they watch the large ork, and Margin the wizard says "You and that undead cohort of yours ruined a lot of people's lives that day". 

Fucken who? the ork general in the Armies of Farque thinks to himself, who then silently adds, Me know no cunt calleds Cohorse. 

"Including a number of us" continues the practitioner of magic in the dark red coloured robes. 

It's Marcus who finally speaks up, as he out of the four of them has the most grievance against the large ork. 

"I know Salinéll wants to draw this out because of what he did to her father" says Marcus who follows that with "But she's out of it at the moment, and I'm here". 

He looks from Mercer to Kynil and then Margin, and finally back at the large ork that they captured on the streets of Vexil. 

"So I get to take my revenge" says Mercer, who then tells Margin "Give me one of it's axes" followed by "Smaller ones, probably can't lift the others". 

They left Dorc's weapon harness and weapons on him, for the simple reason it they were too heavy to take off him. 

And Margin didn't want to waste time and energy doing so as he was too busy healing all of those who survived the fight with the large ork. 

One of the ork warleader's hand axes comes off his weapon harness, and floats over to Mercer who grabs it with both hands. 

Mercer who is aching from healing spells to his shoulder and leg that Dorc da Orc broke during the street fight. 

Walks over to the chained up ork general, trying not to gag at the smell coming off it. There's a determined look upon his face as he approaches their captive "For my brother" says Mercer. 

Then as the others watch on in silence, Mercer swings the axe which is large in his hands. He swings at the left arm of ork weaponsmith. 

Dorkindle hisses in both anger and pain as Mercer chops at his arm, over and over again, until one last final swing, and a grunt of effort. 

Mercer cuts off the large ork's left arm just above the elbow with blood spraying everywhere. 

Hissing in pain, Dorc da Orc looks down at his arm that's been chopped off and is lying next to him in ever increasing puddle of blood. 

He briefly pauses before saying "Huh, just like fucken Killer". Then he promptly faints . . . . . .