The Missing Dragon Ch. 04

"Thanks, Jan."

She yawned again and waved her acceptance of his thanks before walking along out of the camp towards the proving grounds.

Gregory lifted up one of the products of their productive evening, looked it over, and grinned.

* * * * *

The Runts had been persuaded by Janette to break away from their daily training with varying degrees of reluctance. Nullik was overjoyed that he wasn't going to get the tar beaten out of him for a change and Frelki was also somewhat relieved by the summons. Frun and Wrut were both quietly curious about the change of plans. Ulla and Ulf had taken the most convincing. Ulla didn't like to be summoned anywhere and Ulf thought that their place was on the proving grounds. He was quite the dutiful type.

Janette managed to convince them all that it would probably be worth their while, and Gregory had earned some respect amongst the group as he was often one of the last to go down in the pits despite his unfortunate lack of tusks.

When he emerged onto the open glade in the jungle and saw the pack standing around, he decided to start as he meant to go on.

"Alright you lot! Form a line!" he bellowed.

The sudden commanding tone got all the runts forming a single line before they realised that neither Ulf nor Ulag had ordered it. Ulf himself only seemed to realise that he'd been thus commanded a few seconds after standing at the head of the line and straightening up for inspection.

Everyone of them except Ulla, who turned to Gregory as if he'd just openly challenged her.

"We answer to Ulf. Not you," she growled.

"Gregory, it is not your place to-" Ulf began in a more diplomatic tone.

"I don't give a shit!" Gregory quickly put down both arguments whilst setting his shoulders and calmly holding his arms behind his back. "I don't know if any of you have noticed, but what we're doing right now is not working. It's not a matter of practicing. It's not a matter of trying harder. We are simply not built for this kind of battle."

"You would say this to us? After we accepted you?" Ulf might have been reasonable as far as orcs went, but Gregory's words certainly seemed to bring out his primal side.

Good.

"It's not frustrated criticism, alpha. It is cold, hard fact. Do you want to know what I see when we take the field?" He turned to Frun and addressed the stout young orc directly. "I see a slow, unimaginative warrior who follows his elder and his alpha expecting them to pave the way." As Frun bared his teeth at the human, Gregory wasted no time in continuing on to the massive form of Wrut. "And you, with all your experience you should be the most dangerous of all of us out there on the field. I don't know what the hell happened to you that you've been cast back into the provings and I don't give a damn. Right now you're a liability. You can't wield a two handed weapon with one arm. So, I'd suggest you learn how to grow a fucking arm before dawn tomorrow or you start to use the one you've got left a whole lot better."

He could see the look of bloody murder he'd brought into Wrut's gaze, but he paid the old orc no heed and casually dismissed him to move on between Frelki and Nullik.

"Then there's you two. Did it ever occur to you that getting into a close-up grappling match with an opponent twice your size might be a stupid idea? I'm just suggesting it because you both charge right at the other orcs like you think they're made of feathers rather than muscle and bone."

"We do as we are commanded!" Nullik stepped forwards and Gregory rudely shoved him back into line the moment he saw the orc was off his balance.

"And that brings us to the last, and why we are here tod-" Gregory was quickly interrupted by Ulla's fist swinging over his head.

It was going to connect with his jaw, but the human had long been keeping the unstable female orc in his peripheral vision and saw the attack coming. She predictably put too much power into the lunge and he wasted no time in slamming his shoulder into her belly to crush the air from her lungs before uprooting her completely. He lifted her into the air and cast her over his shoulder without a second thought to land with a heavy thud on the dirt at his feet. Without a moment's hesitation, he jammed his boot on her throat to make damn sure she couldn't get back up again.

"Yeah, I didn't forget about you." He said as he looked down upon her. "You're the worst of all of us, Ulla. The provings aren't about fighting on your own. They're about fighting together. I might be challenging Ulf today, but I'd never ignore him. I don't know who made you so damn pissed off all the time, but you lose control way too easy. We always start with one of our pack down because of you. Now you just tried to strike me like a damn coward because you couldn't hold it in. So get up, get in line, or get the hell out of here." He lifted his boot and stepped back from the struggling orc. She quickly hoisted herself up and looked for support amongst her pack mates.

Orcs might have been a harsh people, but they prized honour above all things. Attacking a single opponent without an open challenge would have been considered poor form. Trying to lay into them from behind would probably have gotten Ulla a beating if she'd done it in public. As it was, the shock of her actions had taken quite a bit of the outrage from the others, and instead they just stood and watched her in silence.

She stood up and looked between them all, and finally to Ulf who made no move to intercede on her behalf. Then she turned and fled into the jungle, back towards the camp.

Gregory watched her go, then turned back to Ulf and gestured to the pack before them.

"This isn't working." The words came out steady and solid.

"What would you have us do? Flee to the human lands?" Ulf wasn't angry any longer, he was desperate.

"Fuck no." Gregory turned towards the jungle and nodded towards the foliage.

At his signal, Torren emerged with Talina and Algra. The big smith carried a large, heavy sack over his shoulder and brought it up to Gregory. With a quiet gesture of his master's hand, Torren spilled the contents of the sack on the ground before the Runts. The pack looked over the items, somewhat baffled.

"If we can't win on their terms, then we change the way the battle is fought. Nullik and Frelki? Step forward."

Curiosity outweighed anger for the two orcs, who took a step forwards to get a closer look at the items on display. Gregory reached down and picked up two long wooden staffs.

"These are called quarterstaves." He cast them through the air and each orc snagged one to look over. "They're your new weapons."

Nullik actually laughed at that and grabbed the staff at one end before giving the long weapon a playful twirl. "This? You complain that we pick opponents too big for us and then give us a weapon that would snap in half on the first parry?"

"Ok, first off, it's not designed to be used like a club. It's light, balanced and very effective in keeping enemies at a distance. It can also be used for more precise attacks. The point isn't to charge in with it, it's to . . ." Gregory shook his head and opened his hand to take the staff back. "Let me show you. Pick up the club and attack."

Nullik looked over the small armoury that Gregory had provided them and saw the traditional training club he was used to. He snagged it up and took a position before the human. After letting out a traditional war cry, he charged without hesitation. Then, just as he was about to reach Gregory, the world went suddenly very dark and a raw pain shot up his nose. It felt like everything got twisted upside down in the darkness, and then he opened his eyes to the slightly blurry sight of his legs splayed out on the grass. The realisation that he'd gone from a familiar attacking charge to sitting on his ass in the grass with a bloody nose didn't quite hit him until he saw Gregory standing over him, casually leaning on the staff and offering him a hand to get up.

Nullik took the hand and then looked over the weapon a little more cautiously.

Frelki, who had seen the entire move stood with her eyes wide open and her lips parted in shock. Gregory looked between them as he handed Nullik back the staff.

"It's got a core of mountain metal. Thin but very strong. The outer wood is made for flexibility and extra strength. It's light, balanced and in the right hands it can be very dangerous. The truth is that you and Frelki are both much faster and more agile than any other orc on the proving grounds. So let's use that. You won't be charging in head first anymore, but use this properly and you'll be doing a hell of a lot of damage all the same."

"The provings have rules about the weapons we are given, Gregory." Ulf folded his thick arms across his chest.

"I know. I checked them. Ulag looked over the designs and, well, he laughed a lot and told Torren he'd definitely love to see us in the provings with them. I know that's not exactly a rousing commendation, but at least we get what we need."

Ulf was silent for a moment, after which he unfolded his arms and looked over the other weapons.

"Very well. Explain the rest of your idea."

"Great." Gregory felt some of the tension in his shoulders relax. He really didn't want to have to go one on one with Ulf. "Ok, well next up is Frun. I figured you could use this."

He lifted a much larger weapon up before the stout orc.

"It's a modified poleaxe. Instead of a typical point at the top, I had Torren cap it with a smooth mace head. Below that you've got a blunt hook and a shallow hammer. This thing is designed to keep opponents away from you, and it can do some serious damage when it's wielded by a guy with your strength. It's also pretty versatile, which I'm hoping might make you consider some more options than just head-smashing."

"But head smashing works," Frun argued, although he took the weapon with a contemplative expression.

"Yeah, but if your enemy knows that's all you do then you're an easy mark."

Ulf turned to look at Frun with no small amount of sympathy. Gregory caught the look and confirmed what he'd suspected. Ulf had known exactly what Frun's issue was, but hadn't brought it up in the hopes his friend would figure it out for himself. Perhaps he just didn't want to hurt his feelings, especially with morale already at a consistent low.

Gregory didn't exactly have the time to wait. More time not winning out there meant more time to get himself killed. Better to dish out some tough love than receive some tougher grievous bodily harm.

To Ulf's surprise, Frun didn't seem bothered by the comment at all. He just frowned at the new weapon for a moment before giving a small nod.

"And that brings me to you." Gregory shifted his gaze to Wrut. "This is going to be a tough one to swallow."

"You wish me to eat something?" Wrut glowered at him.

"Huh? Um. No. I just mean that your weapon isn't going to be something you'll like." Gregory turned back to lift it from the pile.

Wrut's jaw fell open. He hadn't quite noticed the weapon that Gregory had brought for him because he'd thought it was some sort of shallow bowl in which to store the weapons whilst they practiced. As it turned out, the young human hoisted it up to reveal a perfectly round shield.

"I will not fight with that," Wrut growled.

"Ok, well that's fine. Can I just ask you something though? Because I think I might be the only one here that's noticed. When you get up in the morning do you feel a little off balance? Like you're a little lighter on one side than the other?"

Wrut let out a low warning growl at the human, which was pretty fucking terrifying since he stood at a height that was almost two feet clear of the top of Gregory's head.

"I mean, I'm just putting this as nicely as I possibly can." The human continued, apparently not intimidated. "It's just that before we go into battle again, you really have to understand that you only have one fucking arm!"

Wrut let out a bellowing roar and launched himself at Gregory. At his back he carried a weapon of his own. It was not from the training grounds, but a true weapon of war. An orc-forged warhammer that was black as the night and thunderously powerful. It came crushing down where the wiseass had been only a moment before. Except instead of pulling back, Gregory danced off to Wrut's unprotected flank. Just as he'd seen the packs do a thousand times before, he easily clobbered the big orc across the jaw with the blunt edge of the shield and sent him sprawling back into the dirt. The warhammer remained stuck in the ground.

Gregory stood beside the massive weapon and looked down over it.

"I know that a weapon can mean a lot to a warrior. This one is finely made." Gregory set the shield down and reached over with two hands to hoist the warhammer out of the dirt. He walked over and handed it back to Wrut who snatched it away almost protectively. "But you can't wield it anymore. You can't defend yourself. With the shield, you can. It won't get stuck in the dirt. It won't unbalance you. I think you might be able to do a lot of damage with it. Put the hammer where it belongs, Wrut. Give it a place of honour in your home and fight with something that will give you a chance."

Wrut looked at the hammer. The anger in him had faded away and only a deep and silent sadness remained as he looked over the runes etched into the heavy weapon.

"Torren told me that orc weapons are passed on from parent to child. He said that the old weapons often help the wielder in battle, for they hold in their hands the memory of all the ancestors that have come before them." Gregory crouched down to look at Wrut eye-to-eye. "I didn't know your ancestors, but I do know that they would want their memory to help you. They wouldn't want you to carry something that could get you killed."

Wrut was quiet for a long moment. Then he walked over to the sack and cleaned the dirt from the hammer before slowly setting it down on the cloth and turning to take up the shield. Without saying a word, he walked back into line and gave Gregory a small nod before looking over the tops of everyone's heads.

"Thank you." Gregory gave Wrut a little bow of gratitude before turning to Ulf. "That leaves us."

He then lifted up the three slender clubs that remained.

"Back home, we call this weapon a baseball bat. It has hit many an honourable home run throughout the decades, and many pretzel-fuelled, drunken crowds have cheered its honour. I figured it'd be the closest thing we could get to a sword. Torren balanced it at the pommel for us. I know it's a lot slimmer than what you're used to, but it's been reinforced like the staves. You get two." He threw a pair of the improvised weapons through the air. "I'll use one with my shield."

Ulf caught the bats out of the air easily enough. His were slightly smaller than Gregory's, and meant to be used together. The Alpha tested them and swept them through the air one at a time to feel their potential impact.

"If we fight with these, we'll need to change everything." Ulf calmly observed.

"Exactly." Gregory agreed with a little nod. He took a step back and looked over them all. "We're not going to be the strongest ones out there, but you know what? We don't need to be. We can be the fastest. We can be the smartest. And I know this will work, because ever since I stepped out on that field with you all I've known you were the bravest ones out there."

"I'm not sure that bravery is going to get us very far. Let's concentrate on the speed and the brains," Nullik suggested.

"If you don't think bravery is going to get us anywhere then you don't know what it is." Gregory crouched down to pick up his shield before turning back to look at them all. "I've seen orcs talk about it. Bravery is about glory in battle. It's about honour. It leads to victory. I don't think it's about any of those things. I don't think you have to be very brave to win a battle. To take the field, knowing you're probably going to lose, but to fight on anyway? That's bravery. You guys all know that when we go back out there, we're probably not going to win. It doesn't matter. You still show up. You still train harder than any of the other packs I've seen. When we're out there and the tide turns on us—and let's face it, we've had a lot of tides turn on us—I don't see anyone running away or giving up. You're not afraid of loss, you don't give a crap what the others think of you, and that makes you stronger than them. I can't promise anything, other than that we'll show them all something they've never seen before, and that it'll be an honour to fight beside each of you."

"Huzzah!" Nullik yelled, lofting his stave victoriously into the air.

Everyone slowly turned to look at him.

"Not a huzzah moment? Really?" He looked sheepishly around for support. "Come on, guys. We don't get a lot of huzzah-worthy moments. Let's enjoy it while it's still warm."

Frun grunted, shrugged and lifted his new poleaxe into the air. "Huzzah!"

That got a laugh from Frelki and Ulf. Even Wrut cracked a smile. Then, one by one, they each lifted their new weapons up toward the skies and roared a battle cry.

When they finished, Gregory took a deep breath and looked over to Ulf.

"Ok, enough!" The orc alpha brought them all to silence with those words and a simple gesture. "Let's get to work."