"Gorbag part 2" by Erik Jensen

Gorbag had noticed the elven woman some time ago. The birds had informed him while he was making his second round of the day that a 'good biggie' had entered the forest. He had changed his course and picked up her scent. He had expected it to be one of the villagers, but instead he found the unmistakable scent of an elf. Feeling much more at ease at that, he had dropped the subject and returned to his chores.

When he returned to the clearing, he went through a few combat routines. He made it a point to take five routines a day at the least. Once done, he walked to the barrel of water and filled his iron canteen. He poured some of the water over his head and he drank the rest. Then he put his bow and arrows down by the target and went to sit down at his favourite spot in the middle of the clearing. Bumping to the ground he pulled his legs up until they were crossed. Then he let his head drop and seemed to fall asleep.

Actually, he was wondering. He had recently noticed two shadow elves poking about his little forest. They had left without finding his clearing, which had put him back at ease. But yesterday evening they had returned, this time searching more thoroughly. They must have found some of his tracks by now, he reasoned with himself. He shook his head slowly. Where there was one, there was bound to be more he lectured himself, and shadow elves had never liked orcs. Nor any other race or species for that matter. He tried to remember what kind of language shadow elves spoke, but it had slipped his mind. Well, he would try and talk with them if they came back. He had to be sure they were mean before he killed them. Yes. He patted his red piece of cloth reassuringly. He would be nice to them.

At this point the elven woman re-entered his thoughts. A few of the small birds landed on his head and shoulders and began chirping about the good biggie watching him. He mumbled his thanks to them with his rumbling voice and started thinking about what he should do about her.

Darenya had never seen anything like this. The birds landed on the orc with no fear at all, and unless she was mistaken, they were communicating! She had seen elves who could speak with plants and animals before, but never an orc. She gathered he must be some sort of shaman, and he had used his black magic to bind the birds to his will. She suddenly became anxious. If he controlled the birds, he might already know she was there. And if that was the case, maybe that peculiar way he was sitting was part of his preparations to cast a spell on her… She frowned, and prepared to move without giving away her position. She had to find somewhere to shoot from.

Gorbag's thoughts revolved around the elf. He knew most elves were not mean, but he also knew that most elves would consider him a foe, since he was an orc. He was afraid he couldn't really talk to her and explain that he was not mean himself, since he only spoke Orcish well, and only a smidgen of the common tongue. Most elves, he gathered, spoke Elvish. He considered that for a moment, and ended up reassuring himself that elves would speak Elvish. Whatever the case, he would have to find her before he could find out if she spoke Elvish. Yes. Or was that common? Well, no matter. To speak with her, he would have to be near her. Otherwise he'd have to shout. He considered shouting for her, but realized he didn't know what to shout. If she didn't know Orcish, how would she know what he shouted? All that thinking made his head spin. He decided to go look for her and let things happen however the may. He opened his eyes and got on his feet by lifting himself up effortlessly with his arms, placing his boots solidly on the ground and getting up. He always enjoyed doing that, it demonstrated that all four limbs were still working. He took a wild guess at where to find the elf and lumbered off to find her.

Darenya was a little relieved when the orc ran off without his bow and arrows. She decided to get a better look at it while she had the opportunity. She sneaked closer and examined the bow. It was apparently two bows attached by a single hilt. One bow was made of strong ash, a typical orcish bow. The other bow was made of steel and had a steel string. She wondered what kind of arrows the orc fired from that. The hilt was large enough to accommodate both bows, which would make the bow impractical to use for people with shorter fingers than orcs. She also noticed that the strings for the normal bow had steel reinforcements at the middle. She reasoned that this was to keep the claws from cutting the string on release. She crept back into the safety of the woods and started looking for a good spot to shoot from when the orc came back. If he sat the same way again, he would be exposing his neck. If she was lucky, the chain mail would be low enough in the back of the neck for her to shoot at something else than the thickly muscled and highly damage-resistant neck. Time would tell, and patience was a virtue she possessed. She had to make sure she did not make haste, since this orc would probably prove to be too much for her in an open fight.