The Realm of Order and Chaos

Disclaimer: All characters depicted are 18 or older, even if specified otherwise.

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Chapter 1

Aravaris felt safe once she left the high stone walls of Meadowlands, past the magical warding that protected the city from foreign invaders, through the dark oak trees that towered beyond view, into the grassy clearing that signaled nature and mystery. Her father insisted that she should never leave the city walls, and a party of the most boring elves in the realm escorted her to and fro. Her father was the king, after all, he had to protect his precious daughter from any thugs or vagrants that dared approach.

But in the surrounding forest, there was no escort, no party of buffoons to plead forgiveness for, no risk of every micro-action being woven into political jaw-smacking. Aravaris had her silver dagger, bow and quiver of thirty steel arrows to solve potential problems, with no moral grandstanding to force her to do otherwise. The Elvish realm of politics and war were grey and liveless to Arvi, but she was no stranger to conflict. Raised with strict tutors and schedules, she knew the lineage of Elvish rulers for ten thousand years, and the ancient words to summon a magical firestorm, with the neighboring lands for a dozen leagues in her mind like a photograph.

She made her way off the beaten path, into the foliage and away from any possible people traversing the unforgiving forest. Most travelers hurried into the nearby Elvish city, gleefully hiding behind its walls with warm taverns and cold ale. Orcs and Humans liked to pretend Elves didn’t exist, with the wild and dangerous forests surrounding their cities. But the Humans came frequently to trade, the brave ones at least, while the Orcs were almost never seen in Elvish lands, with no easy targets to raid and a vast magical forest to repel them they would have no business being here.

Her padded leather armor was clearly Elvish, with strong green dyes and intricate weavings of golden thread forming the sigil of her house on her left shoulder, a watchful owl resting on a tree branch. Her platinum blonde hair, finely brushed by her handmaidens, was tied up into a tight, straight, long ponytail of silk bouncing behind her head. Arvi inhaled the crisp morning air, tickling her small nostrils with pollen. Her dark, royal blue eyes revealed nothing with an empty stare while her stance told of confidence and strength, her right hand gripping her carved bow tightly. Arvi kept an arrow in her left hand, resting her fingers on the bowstring, ready to notch and loose an arrow in an instant should a target come into view.

This was not the first time she’d wander the giant, empty green wonderland of her people, and even if it was, the local creatures were well documented in her lessons. A minotaur in heat would take her down in an instant if she allowed him the correct positioning, and a pack of direwolves would make short work of her supple elf flesh, both regularly sighted and dealt with by Elf rangers. When Arvi was a little girl, she admired their service and remembered begging her father to join them. Thus began her father’s favorite past-time; reminding Aravaris that she is the princess of all Elvish people and above such work.

Arvi halted, hiding her small frame behind the trunk of a massive, mossy oak tree. Her pointy ears perked and twitched while she craned her neck around the bark of the tree to better see the source of audible disturbance.

Two hulk-like figures stood in a shrouded, thickly forested area just a few dozen meters from her, clearly armored and armed, with the bigger of the two carrying a claymore on his back. That eliminated a lot of possibilities, as both of them were too big to be Elvish or Human, and a simple race won’t wear armor or carry weapons. Even with those options eliminated, she could scantily believe Orcs dared to enter so deeply into Elvish land. Arvi notched her bow with an arrow and crouched into a low position as she walked out from behind the tree she was previously hiding behind. With a slightly better look, she could tell they were moving away from her with their backs turned. She moved closer to her targets, gleaming what information she could as the distance was closed.

The bigger Orc was a few steps ahead of the smaller one, his hair a dark black color, tied back in a short ponytail one would see on a tribal warrior. His facial hair was thick, she could tell just from the side profile of his face, and covered the lower half of his face in a straight black-haired grove. His skin was a darker green, darker than Aravaris’s elven tunic, meaning he was more Orc than anything else, and the sword on his back was as tall as her. His armor was a mixture of patched chainmail, scale mail, and small bits of rusted platemail, various tools and smaller weapons on his belt as well as a purse. Most Orc refused to openly carry currency or use it, rather they horde it and use it collectively as a way to get slaves, gear, food, tools, whatever the Orc tribes need to survive the northern winters.

Aravaris turned her attention to the second Orc, a smaller male with wavy, thick black hair that was longer than most and more human than Orc. His skin was a light green, almost pale like human skin, and his entire body frame was thinner, shorter, and lighter. He was wearing light leather clothing, not even quite armor, with an Elvish made shortsword on his hip and a simple bow on his back, only five arrows in his small quiver. His head kept staring forward, rarely looking at his surroundings, while Arvi noticed the bigger Orc slowly tilt his head over time. She wasn’t sure what either of them wanted, or if she could kill both while alone. Arvi wasn’t even sure if she should kill them; practically none of the rangers she knew reported Orc sightings, and they weren’t interested in the nearby city as they moved further away from it, toward the northern mountains. She did know of Orc tribes living there; perhaps they were lost and heading home.

The ever-optimist, Arvi scolded herself. The Elf women loosened the arrow in her bow and began to follow them, putting herself behind foliage while they moved gracelessly through her home. She was impressed watching the larger Orc spot and avoid a minotaur cave, a-typical Orc behavior as well as displaying a level of knowledge no one thought Orcs capable of, according to Elvish lore at least. The two wasted no time searching for roads or cabins, and left behind a relatively small footprint if someone were to try and track them through normal means. They walked and walked, crossing streams and navigating sections of poisonous plants, and soon Arvi lost herself in the silent pursuit through the green forest. The sun was barely out when she started, orange beams blasting through the giant trees and branches, and by the time the pair stopped to hunt a particularly impressive deer, they had crossed several leagues toward the northern mountains, and the sun was beginning its descend in the sky. Aravaris knew her father would ask questions when she returned home, but that was better than allowing these Orcs to do harm in Elvish land, or murdering two people for returning home. If she was a true ranger, she would have been honor-bound to attack them the moment she saw them; being princess had a perk or two.

The two Orcs began splitting off from each other, the smaller one pursuing the deer and the larger moving toward a sizable hill within eyeshot. Arvi felt a pang of fear as she contemplated whether or not this was her time to strike. It would be easiest to follow the hunter and kill him first, then the bigger Orc, perhaps after he nods off tonight. Her desire for a clean, riskless kill was interfering with her better judgement, she realized, as the trip back would not be simple in the dark.

Her thoughts were swept away when she realized how much distance both of them had made away from her; Arvi was paralyzed with choice, and eventually realized her only choice now was to follow the larger Orc, as his pace was much more relaxed. He made his way to the sizable hill surrounded by larger-than-life oaks and pines, the beginning of the rocky formations that would eventually become mountains in the nearby incline. What seemed like just around the corner, practically, was a small cave opening empty of bears or minotaurs. The large Orc began gathering tinder and fuel for a fire, and in no time flat was sitting in front of an inferno just inside the slightly dark cave. Arvi settled into a perch in one of the larger trees, probably closer to the Orc than she should be, but with a perfect view to further examine him.

Now that she could see his face, she noticed the maroon red war paint on his left eye, and the scar trailing down his right, his facial hair seemed brushed and trimmed as well. The Orc was now sharpening his large sword, resting it in his lap and running a sharpening stone along the edge. It took no time at all for the second Orc to arrive with a deer on his shoulders, which he wordlessly dropped next to the fire, and took a dagger to dress. When pieces of meat came out of the animal, the larger Orc began cooking the meat on a stone next to the fire, the smell wafting up to Arvi’s nose. She could hear the sizzling from here, and the golden charred texture on the meat was plain to see.

The Elf princess took the opportunity to get a ration from her satchel, and silently chewed on her bread. The second Orc only ceased cutting at the deer when it was a carcass, and between the two men they had begun devouring the deer. Arvi couldn’t tell if there was a power dynamic between the two, as there always is in Orc culture, but it did seem like the hunter was letting the bigger Orc eat first, and a larger share of the kill at that. But the smaller Orc didn’t seem afraid, or angry. In fact both of them seemed… peaceful? If Orcs could be described as such.

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For a moment the world was unbelievably calm to Kilroy, his aching legs finally getting a break while his stomach was filled with sweet venison, a luxury even in the best of times. After he had his fill, he continued sharpening his great sword with an eye trained on the surrounding forest. Elves were very territorial, even to traveling Orcs whereas most Orcs are in their mystical forests for more nefarious reasons. He knew the risks and had no other choice despite his best intentions. Roads were more likely to lead to conflict with a force they couldn’t overcome, but stomping around the Elf rangers’ backyard put them on a huge disadvantage as well. Kilroy’s brain wouldn’t let his mind rest, playing back every mistake he made to put himself in this situation, cataloguing the missteps and itemizing every poor judgement into a room inside of his head, one he locked himself into and ate the key.

He glanced at Colborn while the lad was busy stripping skin off of his kill, folding it into his pack for clothes or bartering. Kilroy wasn’t sure it was time to stop for the day, they were still within half a days walk to the Elvish capital city they narrowly avoided. Odds are if they pushed another half days march they’d be well out of range of any wandering rangers. Then they’d only have minotaurs and wolves to deal with, even magical predators would recognize the threat two armed Orcs posed. Or perhaps Kilroy was deceiving himself with optimism again.

It was Colborn that broke the silence; it was always Colborn that broke the silence. “Kilroy, are we staying for the night?”

The larger Orc continued brooding for a moment. “Haven’t decided.”

“Well, we made good time, and avoided the elves. I’d call today a win.” Colborn took his tunic off, revealing his hairless, lime green chest. Despite being smaller, he was still fit, with clearly defined muscle. Kilroy barely noticed.

“And you’d be right up until the moment you closed your eyes to sleep. Then your head’d be some frilly elf boy’s war trophy.” Kilroy sheathed his great sword.

Colborn rolled his eyes, but Kilroy wasn’t paying attention. “Paranoia isn’t very attractive.”

“Good thing your opinion is worth less than shit.” Kilroy seemed calm and unphased by the conversation. “If it wasn’t you’d be dead by now.”

“That’s why you’re my warrior.” Colborn unbuckled Kilroy’s sword from his back and laid it gently on the stone ground beside the fire.

“And what’s this about?” Kilroy asked.

“It’s been a time since either of us preformed our sacred duty.” Colborn started with the rusted plate, unbuckling and stripping various layers of armor until Kilroy was in leather garments not unlike his own.

“It can’t be our duty if we live outside of the tribe.” Kilroy remained by the fire, next to his arms and armor while Colborn unfurled his bedroll on the stone floor.

“Hm, I suppose. Does that mean you have no interest beyond duty?” Colborn found himself taking off his own weapons next to his pack beside his bedroll.

“I am a warrior. My life is my duty.” Kilroy said.

“And yet you find yourself with no duty.” Colborn said, as Kilroy turned to his companion once he sat down next to the fire.

“Aye.”

Colborn rested his hand on Kilroy’s thigh. “Do you think I followed you in exile because of duty? Or because you are my warrior?”

Kilroy scanned his brown eyes, as if he would find the answer inside of them. “What is the difference? You are here, and you can’t go back. I am humbled by your loyalty.”

Colborn brushed his own hair behind his ear, before pulling the entirety of it behind his head in a ponytail that was more feminine than tribal, black fabric tied in a knot to keep it so. “I’m glad. When will I see the fruits of my labor?”

“You’d have to be more specific.” Kilroy turned to the open flame, noticing the sun begin to change the color of the sky as dusk settled into the Elven forest.

“You really did just do it for duty, then. Did we share no real moment? Did you enjoy none of it?”

“I enjoyed my duty, as did you as I remember. Are you so unsure of yourself?” Kilroy seemed to show some concern in his tone.

“I’m unsure of many things. But you are top of the list.” Colborn pulled his knees into his bare chest, wrapping his arms around them.

“In all these years you’ve never seemed to want, and yet, you act as if I wronged you.” Kilroy rested his open palms to the flame, soaking in the warmth.

The two remained silent as the sun slowly disappeared, and the wolves began howling. Kilroy fed the fire with his pile of tinder and fuel, keeping it strong and fostering a bed of embers to keep it burning throughout the night. After the fire was settled he had a hard time taking his eyes away from the caves mouth that they were so close to. The smoke would fill the cave otherwise.

“You must know what I ask; don’t act as if you lack imagination.”

Kilroy gave his companion a look. “You don’t have to do that anymore, you know. It’s not as if we have anything to lose.”

Colborn slid into Kilroy’s side, eliminating the distance between them. “You are my warrior.” He gazed back at the painted and scarred eyes, Kilroy’s orange pupils contrasting and lacking emotion.

Kilroy placed a hand on Colborn’s chest, before forcing him down onto his back and flipping his body like a ragdoll. There Colborn laid on his bare stomach before his hips were pulled upwards and backwards, his knees instinctively supporting his new dog-like position while his arms rested against the cool ground.

Kilroy yanked Colborn’s leather trousers down to his knees, immobilizing him and revealing his plumb green ass to the forest. “I picked a good bottom.” He removed a waterskin from his own trousers before pulling them down to his knees. Colborn could feel the blazing warmth from the fire, and the heat emanating from Kilroy’s thick cock while it hovered near his butt. And without warning a cold dribble of oil poured over his back door, with a thick Orc finger not far behind, pushing the slick liquid inside of his hole with a purpose. Kilroy wasted no time forcing more lube in with a second finger, that pushed its way inside and massaged his sensitive hole inside out, making his asshole slick enough to fuck.

Colborn turned his head toward his warrior, his ponytail keeping his hair out of the way while he watched Kilroy prepare his hole for an accommodating evening. His own erection was squeezed between his glued legs and bare stomach, but his balls impossible to hide received a good molesting with Kilroy’s other hand, while it wasn’t stroking his own Orc cock with lube or squeezing Colborn’s ass.

“Keep it down.” Kilroy said this as his thick, green and pink cock pushed into his ass, and both of his large hands took his lime green butt cheeks in a firm grip. Colborn’s fingers dug into the floor of the cave as he closed his eyes and moaned softly, trying to listen to his warrior.

The first thrust was slow, tantalizing to them both, but they’d experienced what happened when the warrior went too fast. Kilroy had his back to the cave entrance, but his hearing was acute; and it was dark, so the worry in his mind subsided as he entered his bottom. His warm hole was the only home he had now, squeezing his ass with tender pressure. Kilroy felt his cock getting squeezed tighter and tighter as he made progress, burning hot and slick inside. He was always surprised at the amount his bottom could take, even despite the size differences.

“Mm, maybe we could stay like this.” Colborn remarked, lowering his head toward the ground, relieving pressure as he squeezed his ass around his thick cock. His own cock was throbbing hard, leaking like it always does.

Kilroy pulled his hips back, as his bottom rung out every micro-drop of pre-cum out of his dick, and pushed forward, feeling less resistance this time. His dark green hands dug into his ass, turning the skin a light hue of red, and he started digging out his bottom’s insides with long, slow thrusts. Colborn’s tiny mewls were cute to him, as cute as his smaller cock and balls were. He began to fixate on his ponytail, as it bounced around while his dark green and pink cock speared his asshole. Kilroy’s balls began to rhythmically slap against his ass and taint, as he dived deep into his warm, slippery insides. The oil always made it so much easier, but he wasn’t above tonguing enough saliva inside there to get the ball rolling.

Once his cock began effortlessly sliding in and out of his hole, Kilroy’s hands began to wander. They traveled up the entire length of his smooth, toned back, running over his shoulders and briefly using them as leverage to plunge into his bottom, his girthy cock making itself a home. Colborn kept his hands on the ground for leverage, but as the assault on his ass began to tickle his special spot, he couldn’t help but slowly allow his chest to rest against the cool stone cave floor. Kilroy’s hands slipped off his shoulders, and one grabbed his ponytail in a firm, firm grip. The top Orc stayed balls deep inside of him for a moment, as he adjusted to the new form.

Kilroy’s firm grip on his ponytail pulled Colborn close towards him, his entire backside and thighs resting against Kilroys. Their bodies shared warmth, and the pressure on Colborn’s spot forced pre to openly drip out of his rock hard cock like a runny faucet. Kilroy kept his grip and this made Colborn taunt like a rope to his top’s figure, allowing the top to simply begin pounding away at his hole. The sound of flesh filled the cave, and the smell of sex was strong.

Kilroy roasted his ass with a swift fucking, as hard and as fast as he could muster, Colborn practically had to whimper as he tried to keep it down. His hands were unnecessary now that Kilroy had him by the hair so one hand found his warrior’s hips and the other began stroking his own aching cock, if only for a few moments of relief. The pre smeared on his hand and over the length of his lime green shaft, a line of liquid dripping into a small puddle below him.

Colborn knew he could be here for awhile if Kilroy wanted to, some evenings they’d stay like this until the sun came up. But they were vulnerable, and needed sleep for the march tomorrow. He didn’t suspect this was going to be a marathon, so he started pleasuring himself, stroking his wet cock with vigor, hoping to coax out the orgasm building from his top’s cock massaging his happy spot with speed and force. Normal masturbation never felt as good as when he could get his warrior’s cock eight inches inside of him.

Since Kilroy refused to let up on his bottom, his arousal built quickly. They had been traveling for weeks since being exiled, this is the first time the two have exchanged more than a few words with each other. It didn’t take long for the top Orc to plunge into his bottom’s guts, his cock spasming while it pumped Colborn full of cum. The Orc warrior kept his cock buried to the tip inside of his bottom while he shot his seed inside, giving a sigh of relief while his sperm began to spill out, as his cock retracted out of Colborn’s stretched hole.

Colburn had erupted a moment after his top began filling his hole with his thick, warm seed, his own cum spurting over the cave floor and his tummy, as well as his hands and his cock while he stroked his shaft out of its sensitivity. He felt a gaping emptiness as Kilroy’s cock left, his asshole squeezing at something long gone.

Kilroy rubbed his wet cock up and down the crack of Colborn’s ass, trying to remove as much oil and cum as he could, knowing that Colborn would find a nearby creek or stream in the morning to wash off their passion.

Colborn felt Kilroy’s hand loosen on his hair and his thick cock rub up and down his ass, which gave his mind a jolt before he flipped his position around and got an eyeful of Kilroy’s dark green cock, his full swinging balls, and his ripped physique. Colborn couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his pink lips around the crown of Kilroy’s cock, and slowly swallowing the entire shaft all the way to the thick, black bush that warmed Colborn’s face as he sucked and swallowed all the oil and cum off of his top’s slowly softening cock.

By the time his penis was clean, Colborn had covered it in his saliva, and Kilroy felt his cock throb back to full erection inside of his bottom’s warm, tight mouth. Kilroy grabbed his ponytail again and ‘guided’ his head up and down his veiny cock, his emerald balls slapping against his chin. Kilroy’s head began to grow ultra-sensitive, and that’s when he pulled Colborn’s mouth away and let the poor lad catch his breath.

“That was quite nice.” Kilroy remarked, his erection an inch away from Colborn’s lips.

Colborn greedily licked the last bit of pre-cum dripping out of Kilroy’s cock. “Uh huh.”

“Come sleep my boy, tomorrow will be tedious.” The two crumpled onto the bedroll, Kilroy making Colborn the little spoon as their naked bodies fused together. The nearby fire kept their naked bodies warm, both of their weapons a foot away or less. But they seemed to care not for the danger around them, but rather the love they shared together.

Chapter 2

Aravaris had a hard time comprehending the erotic display before her. So many things were running through her mind, while her private parts leaked liquid all throughout her panties, and blood rushed through her mind. She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her lower lips out of agony of arousal, and her fingers meant for archery finessed themselves inside of her body, covered in her own juices. She was too well-mannered to wipe it away on the tree she was on, or the clothes she wore, so she sucked her fingers dry, tasting her own insides.

As much as she felt confused, she felt the world reorient itself to this new act she discovered; sexual interaction. After eighteen years of study of the world, she was never told of the wonderous act of sex or masturbation and what it entailed. She felt an awakening, watching the masculine Orc roast his bottom Orc into submission, his cock seemed delicious and so far away. Yet, she still fantasized about his dark green member inside of her, stretching her feminine parts orgasmically.

Aravaris continued fingering herself, intent on being quiet as she did so. The Orcs fucked for a decent amount of time, and she had a perfect view from her royal oak tree. Soon, her greedy little snatch desired something thicker than her fingers, and she desperately looked for something to fill the role, and before she really thought about it she was sticking the handle of her dagger inside of her snatch, filling her insides with the finely crafted hilt. The intricate design hit all of the right places, and nothing in her entire life felt so good. She covered her mouth with her other hand, and pleasured herself while watching the Orcs fuck. The Elf princess lasted longer than both of them, her insides still unfamiliar with the stimuli. Her orgasm came while they cuddled to sleep, her entire body shuttering and spasming while her pussy squeezed tight the hot, wet metal hilt.

She didn’t have much energy after her body was done controlling her, and as the Orcs fell into a silent slumber, hugging one another, she too reholsted her dagger and got comfortable for the night ahead of them.

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Kilroy was the first up; he was always the first up. At least an hour before dawn, he was redressed in his armor and feeding the fire before trodding out into the forest with Colborn’s bow and arrows. His Orc companion was still naked next to the fire as he shot several rabbits and birds, collecting eggs from their nests as well. Colborn awoke to the smell of meat and eggs, and a hint of Orcish spices. Some small specs of red hot spice, salt and bits of leafy green spices made the food that much better when Colborn shared the meal with his warrior.

They made quick work of the food and packed up camp in a similar fashion, back on the ‘road’ before an hour had elapsed since Kilroy awoke.

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When Aravaris finally awoke, only the faint aroma of food was still in the cave, she was aghast to find the Orcs were gone. The sun was shining brightly, as if closer to midday than dawn, and when she tried to find the tracks to where they had gone off to, she was extremely unsuccessful.

Then her mind snapped to more important things; her father would have noticed her absence by now, and sent the rangers to find her at least, if not the army. She shook away the concerns in her mind, and climbed gracefully down to the forest floor, seeking out the nearby stream and doing her best to clean off her dagger hilt.

She had never felt like that before, and wondered what the hell had come over her, but remembered how good it felt. Aravaris had no good answer for herself, especially when her body sent a rush of blood to her insides. She adjusted her gear back into a comfortable and presentable form, and began making her way home, even more befuddled by her decision to sleep in the forest instead of returning to the safety of the walls. Anything could have plucked her out of that tree and gotten away with a prize worth an empire of wealth. If the Orcs had saw her, perhaps they would have taken her for a wife, if they managed to wrestle every weapon out of her grasp.

“Girl…” The deep, booming voice behind Aravaris made her heart skip a beat.

She turned and drew her sword in one swift motion, as both Orcs she was following faced her with weapons drawn. Colborn’s bow was trained on her heart with an arrow notched, and Kilroy’s greatsword in both of hands and in a combat stance, the blade extending a foot above the giant Orc’s head. Aravaris focused her mind and spoke ancient Elvish, forming a flame in her left hand and holding the energy in a sphere, ready to lob it at either target. “Stay back!” She warned, ready to torch either poor sob.

“Why do you follow, and not attack?” Kilroy locked eyes with the fierce woman.

The question was unexpected, Aravaris couldn’t think of a good response before Kilroy continued.

“We have never seen an Elf follow us and not attack. So, do you hope we will lead you to our home so you can slaughter us?” Kilroy seemed quite calm, despite the meaning behind his words.

She never expected a logical argument from an Orc. In a strange way it would have been easier for her if he had just attacked her. “I have no ill intent toward you or your people. I was concerned that you might have some for my people, so I followed you. It seems you do not, but I suggest you leave all the same, most Elves are not as gracious as I.”

Colborn spoke up this time. “I know how gracious the average Elf is, pale-skin. Your people slaughter mine on sight.”

Aravaris’s brow furrowed, the flame in her hand turned to a darker red, parts of it turning black as well. “I’ve heard plenty of stories of Orcs raiding, enslaving, and raping my people. What response do you expect, a hug?”

Colborn moved toward the Elf princess, and Aravaris lifted her flaming hand in response, before Kilroy put his sword in front of the smaller Orc.

“Enough.” Kilroy spoke. “This conversation grants us nothing.” He let his sword return to his back sheath, and Colborn had no more fire in his eyes. “My name is Kilroy, this is Colborn.”

Aravaris was animated with emotion, and starting to lose patience. “And what the hell do you want?”

“To leave to the northern mountains, unthreatened.” Kilroy spoke plainly.

“Right, well, on your way then.” She motioned her sword vaguely toward the north.

Both Orcs weren’t expecting that answer, but Colborn wordlessly dropped his weapon and loosened the arrow, while Kilroy turned away from the young woman and began moving vaguely north.

Aravaris’s stance loosened, her hand falling back to her side as the flame disappeared. It took several steps from the Orcs, before her sword began to return to her side, in its sheath. She watched as they continued on, out of her line of sight, through the tall dark pines and green-covered branches. She could scarcely believe that it was that simple. Her first instinct was to follow, but she already knew she couldn’t.

The elf princess turned south and began her journey home, making much better time than the stumbling Orcs made yesterday, taking advantage of her knowledge of the forest and superior grace. When she was but a few thousand steps away from the gate, her father’s’ Rangers spotted and confronted her.

Three elven rangers approached in a trot, and Aravaris slowed as the distance was closed. She knew one of the men as Garrik, a fierce warrior, but not the other two. One of the men she did not know was leading the other two, her family’s symbol on their armored shoulders. “Aravaris, your Lord father thought you were kidnapped.”

“That’s because he’s a melodramatic fool.” Aravaris walked through the rangers, and they parted to make way.

“He’s instructed us to escort you back to him.” Garrik said with a solemn tone.

Aravaris spared the man her reply, and wordlessly slowed herself so they would not have to strain themselves following her.

As they made their way through the shiny steel gates and into the glowering town square, it did not take long for the princess to catch the attention of the entire market square with her escort, and for the more noble of the crowd to snide and sneer. The city itself made of bright white brick and golden fountains, with royally dressed peasant elves shopping through the trolleys and shops, taverns strewn about.

The princess had long ago been taught to ignore the nobility, lest it snowball out of her control as it always seemed to in her culture. Garrik broke the formation of their escort, walking closer to the princess’s side, blocking her view of the more obnoxious nobles. “Did you enjoy your stroll, your Highness?”

Aravaris tightened her jaw a moment, realizing how much she did enjoy her stroll. “It was… nice I suppose. The time seemed to float away from me.” That was as much of an explanation she would be willing to offer.

“Well, I hope it was worth it. Your Lord father was absolutely furious when he informed the Rangers you were missing again.” Garrik seemed worried for his princess. “And the Wolfhunter family is already scheming concessions out of your family for your absence in the marriage selection ceremony.”

Of course they would… The Elf princess should have known that nothing good would have come from her little expedition. “Well, I guess I’ll have to work some magic to correct my mistakes.”

The convoy fell silent as they marched through the marketplace, the silver brick road paved the way toward the keep in the heart of the city, guarded by massively tall and thick walls, with impressive guard towers at every important chokepoint. The gates themselves guarded by a dozen plate-armored soldiers, each with pikes, glaves, spears and greatswords. Their beautifully carved, artisan armor each adorned with minor house sigils. Each bowed their heads to the true heir to their kingdom, Aravaris.

She was not an attention-seeking person, but even she could not ignore the respect her people paid her. They knew that she was a capable warrior, someone with the backbone her father lacked. They ushered her and her party in with not a word, the steel gate rolling up before she was a dozen meters away. And once she crossed into the courtyard of the keep, it came crashing down behind the last member of her party, threatening to end them if their pace didn’t keep up with their princess.

From the lavish, golden and silver walkways to the platinum fountains and iron anvils littering the keeps’ courtyard, the Rangers and princess move swiftly and purposely toward the entrance to the keep itself, a massive structure built of shining stone. The gate that led into the keep itself made of lavishly built elven wood and steel, reinforced with magical wards that no man or orc could defeat with simple arms. They walked right through the door with open arms, welcoming Aravaris home.

Once they reached the hall itself, a long golden hallway stretched out before them, reaching a hundred meters into the air with dozens of silver pillars on each side, adorned with golden and platinum accents. The attitude of the guards shifted once their princess approached; instead of looking upon the princess with awe and respect, they stood stiffly and curtly acknowledged their future queen. Aravaris paid little mind, but her party was noticeably on edge. Half of the guards consisted of Wolfhunter-loyal Elves, and the other half loyal to Aravaris’s family.

It did not take long for the princess to approach King Callon, her father, and the Wolfhunter royalty surrounding him. The patriarch, Logan Wolfhunter, had an especially scornful look upon his face, and his son, Rohan Wolfhunter seemed pleased with himself in a uniquely smarmy way.

Before Aravaris even approached her father in the customary distance to begin a conversation, he stood out of his wonderfully carved throne and threw his finger toward his daughter. “How dare you disrespect your family in this time of great need!”

Aravaris and her entire party halted upon the King speaking, and each took a knee as he spoke. The Elf princess grit her teeth for but a moment before rising, and responding to her father. “I apologize profusely, to my King and the court, but I found myself upon a savage party of Orcs while patrolling our sacred forest. I felt it my responsibility, as a citizen above all else, to pursue these neanderthals and slaughter them before they could rape and pillage our homelands.”

The court fell silent, it was if no one could have predicted this ‘excuse’. A few lower-class elves murmured about Orcs this close to the capital city, but they quickly silenced themselves once Logan Wolfhunter began to speak. “I find this information surprising, considering how diligent our scouts and Rangers normally are…”

Aravaris looked to her father, King Callon Lightbringer, as his expression turned from sour to smug. The Elven princess replied to her King first. “I would have never missed the selection ceremony otherwise, my King.”

Before her father could reply, Rohan spoke and commanded the attention of the noble Elves in the Hall of Kings. “Normally this task, below your station, would be handled by our Rangers. Why were you past the walls to begin with?”

King Callon stood straight out of the throne, trying to appear authoritative but instead revealing his age in the process, as his body struggled to meet his intensity. “I will not have my daughter interrogated by someone below her station, after serving her people and actually getting her hands dirty with filthy Orc blood. Aravaris, return to your quarters and clean yourself. The selection ceremony will be tonight, so keep your weapons sheathed.”

Aravaris curtised to her father, and exited the Hall of Kings toward her quarters, as the rest of the court began to murmur and speculate, and the Wolfhunters began extracting whatever political capital they could out of her father for the inconvenience.

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Kilroy and Colborn found themselves finally exiting the Elvish forest, into the cold, wintery forest surrounding it. In this land, more savage wildlife and lesser races roamed, scrapping whatever they could out of the harsher landscape. Even further north were the icy mountains, consisting little more than spiders and goblins, with the occasional Dwarf city, buried deep in the mountains, rejecting any other race from entering their homes. Once in a great while, the dwarves would lead a caravan to the Elvish capital to trade, otherwise they were almost never seen. Once in a lifetime, one might see a dragon fly over the freezing sky, hunting the larger deer and moose frequently found.

The two Orcs exchanged glances, and knew they were outclassed by this more dangerous climate. Little to no Orc tribes existed here, and yet, this was the only land that they could occupy without having to fight with stronger, more established Orc tribes. Orcs were the strongest beings in their world, but even an Orc could be killed by two Elves or Dwarves, and an Elf could be killed by three or four humans.

In contrast, it would take six goblins to kill one of them. Still, they were outclassed, outgunned, no matter what direction they took. The road that led to Elvish territory, and further on human cities, ended as the tundra began. There were no more Elvish city-states, or Human towns or cities to raid or trade with. If they were to survive in this area, they had to build everything from scratch and survive off of the land. Maybe, if they were extremely lucky, they’d run into another tiny Orc clan to trade with. Otherwise, they were entirely on their own.

Kilroy led Colborn to a giant hill that had a small cave carved into it, and left their supplies there as they set up a more permanent camp. Kilroy used a fire axe he had in his pack to begin to cut down the deeply brown pine trees, creating a pile of logs just next to the cave. Colborn used his bow and hunting skills to track a decent sized deer, closing in on the animal and nailing it through the heart with one perfect shot. His heart was pounding the entire time, realizing how catastrophic it would be to go hungry tonight of all nights, when Kilroy and himself had expended everything they had just to get here.

Colborn returned with the deer slung over his taunt shoulders, grinning from ear to ear, oblivious to Kilroy and his tasks. This time the fire was a few feet away from the entrance to the cave, and he tossed the deer carcass next to the roaring flame, dressing the animal to be butchered and cooked.