A Knight and Squire

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

 

A sketch of Ser Leopold and his squire wearing a "safety bandana" to prevent lung cancer from the Orcish Jungle, Rakim Yar.

 

Vines creep among the abandoned huts and tents that make up the old capital of the War Uzg. The ‘Orcish Jungles’ as Ser Leopold referred to them as were not for the common man, standing testament to the adaptiveness of the Krug’s children. While such a trait would come off as admirable to most, it struck nothing in the knight and his accompanying squire as they roamed the empty city.

 

“We cannot keep stopping every half hour, Rakim. Abram and Jossepi are waiting back at camp.” Ser Leopold protests as the young Qalasheen plops down on to the filth-ridden road. A flock of birds fly overhead squawking from the disturbance of the newcomers.

 

“Jossepi’s got the shits, it’s not like they’ll be goin’ anywhere.” Rakim groans as he wrestles off his plated boot and turns it over allowing several pebbles to roll out back on to the ground. Behind him, a deep grumble coming from a decrepit hut responds to his own complaints. “All be damned..” Rakim mumbles to himself as he makes the sign of the Lorraine Cross on his chest.

 

“Come on, get up boy. No lollygagging down here.” Ser Leopold hisses at Rakim with a forceful tug on the latter’s arm to bring him to his feet. The knight unsheathes his blade as he creeps towards the moss covered door to the hut. “Get ready.”

 

“Alrighty, sir.” As he was trained, Rakim grabs ahold of his arbalest. He nervously grabs ahold of a bolt before being interrupted.

 

“TST.” Ser Leopold scowls at Rakim. “Focus.”

 

Rakim nods to the knight before putting the bolt back into his quiver. He lowers the arbalest on to the ground and secures it under his foot before retaking the bolt and putting it into the firing chamber.

 

Ser Leopold extends his free hand out and bangs on the door twice. Rakim raises his arbalest over his shoulder as he takes aim for the door.

 

“WUB DA SKAH? WAAAGH!”

 

Thuds are heard from the hut as whatever goliath lurked behind the door was awoken. Ser Leopold looks over cautiously to Rakim, a bead of sweat running down the latter’s face as he takes a shakey aim for the door.

 

Bzzzzzzzzzzz.

 

“****…” Rakim swats at his brow as he feels a mosquito land upon him. As the door opens, revealing the swamp colored goliath that dwelled within the hut, Rakim quickly fires the arbalest without proper aim and the bolt whizzes passed the orc and into the door frame. The uruk turns towards the bolt as it vibrated in place embedded in the acacia wood and then back to Rakim.

 

“WAAAAAAARGH!” The Krugite charges forward towards Rakim as the Qalasheen drops his arbalest. As the beast ran passed Ser Leopold, the knight swings his blade at its back, creating a large gash. The orc howls in pain and turns around now that the knight gained the orc’s attention.

 

“Come on.” Ser Leopold takes a deep breath, bringing his right foot out as he got into his fighting stance before the orc with his blade held up. “DIRK IN THE ABOUT.”

 

The four words were vague but Rakim knew them well. In reflex, he unsheathes his own blade and runs forward, thrusting it into the orc’s back. In return, the orc swings his elbow back and nails Rakim in the face knocking the Qali back. As Ser Leopold lunges forward, the orc grabs ahold of the knight’s arms and sends a balled fist to the knight’s metal visage before dropping him on to the ground. The orc then turns around to face Rakim who was sprawled out on to the ground.

 

“Euugh…” The dazed Qali squire struggles to open his right eye along with his left. Delicate, delicate. He cups his hand over the swollen eye as he rises up, only to be pushed back down. The towering monstrosity wraps his green hands around Rakim’s neck and grins.

 

“Hurhurhurhur..-”

 

Rakim reaches up in distress, smushing his hands on to the orc’s face trying to push him back. Alas, it was to no avail. His head begins to throb as he struggles to breathe. In a last ditch effort, Rakim presses his thumbs into the eyes of the orc.

 

“ARRRRGH!” The Krugite yells in agony as Rakim wiggles his thumbs inside of its eye sockets. The creature was strong however and endures the struggling Qali’s attempts at combating it. Rakim pulls his hands away from the orc to grab a hold of its hands as he tried to release the latter’s grip around his neck. Rakim shuts his eyes as the pressure builds up from behind.

 

“Remember to just sneak towards the back when you’re out there fighting, Rakim.”

 

One of the last pieces of advice he got from his sister Almas. What good that would have done in this situation, he thinks to himself as the world around him goes black.

 

“HurhurhurACCK!”

 

The grip around Rakim’s neck is released and the Qali opens his eyes, taking deep breaths in relief. He rises from the ground seeing Ser Leopold with rope in hand strangle the orc from behind.

 

“GET IT, RAKIM!”

 

Rakim spots his fallen blade on the ground and rushes over to pick it up. He looks back to the orc who appeared to be in a panic after being caught from behind by the knight.

 

“Die, you mutant!” Rakim rushes forward before swinging his blade down upon the orc’s cranium. The Krugite stops struggling and begins to slump. Ser Leopold lets go of the rope allowing the beast to hit the ground with a thud.

 

“Remember the knightly vows, Rakim.” Ser Leopold says as he brushes off his tabard. “Never turn back upon a foe. Not only does it show cowardice, but it also gets you killed.” He gestures to the orc on the ground. “Now, come. We should not keep our battle brothers waiting any longer.”

“Yes sir.” Rakim sheathes his blade and runs over to Ser Leopold’s side. It would probably be awhile before they find another orc, the young Qali thought to himself. In the meantime he decides it best to pray he and all of his comrades make it back to Oren without becoming an orc’s snaga.

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

"F-**** me." Croaker wheezed, having moments before hurled the contents of what had once been military rations from his mouth, onto the jungle floor. He was paler than usual.  He adjusted his sword belt and brushed his way through the jungle thicket back to the 3rd batallion camp, hoping he didn't catch another case of the runs.

[Wendigo 786]

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