Known World |
| Previous | Up | Next |
"Where aaare the orc women?" exclaimed Butt Ugly, hideous muscle-bound strength fighter, strong of arm and weak of mind.
Katrina, Malechai priestess, looked up from her clip board. She was writing down the names of the adventurer party for their impending expedition. This was to escort a Malechai priest from Noah to Gazebo. (The shrine in Gazebo was being upgraded to a temple and they needed permanent staff). Because Malechai was the God of Hate, his supporters tended to attact the attention of do-gooders and other trouble-making malcontented goody-two-shoes. Thus a sizable escort was required in most cases. In this case, the party was: Helen Back, gorgeous assassin (Malechai temple fighter) and party leader; Metro Gnome, homely gnome wizard of ill-manners and repute; Ron Davue, deformed priest of Nuke; and Connie Chi-Wa, priestess of IMAG.
"What did you say?" the priestess asked Butt.
"Where aaare the orc women?" repeated Butt. This was Butt's cliched catch-phrase, almost akin to a nervous tick. He seriously never ever expected a sane answer from it, let alone this kind of response.
"Why," she said, "we have one in our temple cells."
Butt's jaw dropped visibly. Drool began to pool. His mind engaged, but before the Cogs of Reason could be put into first gear, out came: "I waaant to maaarry herrrr."
The priestess smiled. It was not a nice smile, made even worse by the creased scar running vertically from her nose to chin.
"But, of course," she giggled, eyes flashing.
Five minutes later, the female orc was brought forth. She was naked but for a thick iron collar with two D-bolts. Attached to each bolt was a solid chain held by two burly Malechai thugs, well out of her clawed reach. The Malechais had been beating her: the signs quite evident on her grey leathery back and her four enormous breasts. (Or maybe this was how orcs looked all the time; not many saw live orcs up close, and lived). Her hideous, snaggle-toothed, porcine face was swollen, and two feral eyes glared rage from the greasy folds. Her prehensile ears twisted and rotated independently, framing her short-haired tufted head.
Butt swallowed back his saliva.
"I waaant her," he said.
Katrina motioned for Butt to stand next to the orc.
Immediately, the orc clawed at him, vicious and deep, raking cuts down his face. He punched her savagely. She slammed her calloused knee into his groin. Butt twisted away and rammed his armoured elbow into her lantern jaw. This stunned her long enough for the two thugs to yank her neck down onto the table, where they held her by the chains. Butt grinned.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of Malechai, to join ..." Katrina began.
Butt snapped "I do!"
Katrina paused, shrugged, then uttered "By the power of Hatred vested in me by Malechai, I pronounce you man and wife. What Malechai hast brought together in hatred, let no man cleave assunder. Unless he do it delicately with a scalpel."
Katrina gestured to the thugs and pointed at one of the meeting rooms off the temple's foyer, and she spoke to Butt with a leer.
"Malechai does not recognize marriage unless it is consumated. You may use our meeting room as a nuptual suite."
The thugs hauled the orc in, quickly followed by Butt. Then they hurriedly left the room, and slammed the door, leaving Butt and his new bride.
There was shouting within, a growling roar a cross between a wolf howl and a pig sticking, and the smashing of timbers. Something heavy hit the door several times. Butt's voice could be heard shouting raucously within "Gresh poohah!". Then there was more thumping and crashing. Then the squealing pig noise again.
An acolyte arrived into the foyer carrying something white. It was a bridal gown.
The noises had temporarily abated, so Katrina motioned to one of the thugs. He gingerly tossed the gown into the bridal suite, and slammed the door, almost losing his fingers in the process. This only seemed to reignite the noises within.
There were more bangs against the door, so much so the frame buckled. Then the pig squeal noise again, higher pitched and frantic this time, overlaid with a wet meaty slapping noise, like someone smacking a fresh steak onto a marble benchtop, then a laboured grunting noise. Butt yelled within "Yaa-aarrrr!!!!".
Then all went quiet.
The door opened and Butt emerged, his massive 200 kg bride unconscious and slumped over his shoulder. She had been squeezed bodily into the wedding gown.
Butt was somewhat the worst for wear too. His face was badly raked, ear hanging by a thread, one eye bruised, puffy and closed. The skin of his scalp was flapping like an ill-fitting toupe, and blood poured down his face. He limped noticeably, but he beamed past broken teeth.
"My wife goooood."
The room behind him was utterly trashed. It had contained a table and six chairs, but these had all been smashed to matchwood. There were draperies showing mythical scenes of Malechai triumphant in battle, tearing out the hearts of the fallen, but these were torn to ribbons, or hopelessly spattered with blood and a frothy febrile mucous-type sludge. And the whole place reeked like a pig abbatoir, some rancid anchovies, and a brothel slop bucket.
| Previous | Up | Next |