Feral, A Half-Orc's Story: Chapter One

The story follows a half-orc named Char, who lives in a world where hybrids are hated and orcs are the devils of the wastelands. He's raised in a city by a blacksmith who has taught him everything he has known, until, when he is just becoming a teen, a wizard researching the difference between people born from interspecies relationships begins studying him. The Wizard, named Hasha, takes in interest in Char, and begins teaching him. Using the knowledge, Char begins creating weapons, armor, and tools from the lessons he is taught.

Basically, Char is the half-orc equivalent of Tony Stark. An inventor who begins building fantastic things the world has never seen.

My idea was based a lot on the way armor in many fantasy stories work (See Skyrim), with my conclusions being built from the universe itself.

See, this universe is not stuck in the Medieval stasis of other high fantasy world. The word science doesn't exist, because magic is science, aka the study of the natural world and how it works. People are studying the migration patterns of animals and making breakthroughs in the study or hereditary genetics as they study alchemy to make aspirins and summon spirits to discuss their findings with contemporaries.

Char is the natural result of that world. Trained by Hasha, he uses modern (for his era) 'magic' to apply concepts like gunpower, runes, electricity, and more into his creations. It's hard for him, as he has no skill for magic, but it's something he can do that the racism around him can't touch.

And then, because he's a protagonist, something happens. Not saying what.

(Spoiler Ended)

Anyways, you've had enough of my rambling. Please let me know what you think, give me any comments, corrections, or questions you have, and I hope you have a good time with this brief introduction 
------
They caught me in an alley on my way home. My fault. I took a new route, trying to hurry, and ended up alone.

The fist slammed into my face with a crack of sound. I almost sighed at the feel of it, long used to such abuse. While the blow was weak, it did force my head to turn and look over at the window next to me. It was dusty, smudged with finger markings. But I could still see my face.

Long hair pulled back into a ponytail. Dark black eyes, slightly sunken in. Dark green skin, and two small tusks jutting upwards from my lower lip. I was massive, a product of my heritage and lifestyle. I cracked my neck, then turned to my attackers.

The alley we stood in was filthy, the tall buildings on either side of me giving it shade, and the smell making it hard to stand in. I’d hoped to simply cut through. My sense of smell was strong, but I decided it was worth the brief smell of rotting food and human refuse dumped on the cobblestone if I could simply get home sooner.

I was regretting that now. Three men barred my path. The smell of alcohol was thick around them, the cheap stuff they sold in local taverns that was just short of drinking piss. The one in the middle had thrown the punch. He was fat, but his arms were well-muscled. It was most likely my heritage that allowed me to take his punch so well. The left one was skinny, and had a gold tooth that hung between dirty lips. The right one was a dwarf, short and thickly muscled, a large beard with bits of food in it hanging from his face.

“Gentlemen,” I said slowly, making sure my dagger was in its sheath at my hip. I tried to keep calm, but my voice came out as more of a growl than the low rumble I usually tried for. “What can I do for you?”

“Ohhh, classy ain’t ya!” The skinny one leered.

“‘Gentlemen’, he says!” The fat one barked out a laugh. “Didn’t know animals had manners!”

“Animals don’t,” The dwarf’s voice had a low, dangerous tone to it. “Monsters can fake it.”

I looked over at him. He wasn’t drunk. He was angry. He was staring at me as though I’d killed his family.

“Ah, right!” The fat one laughed, looking over at his dwarf friend. “You lived in Banfarse didn’t you!?”

Oh. Well. That explained the dwarf’s anger. Banfarse had been a small city on the outskirts of the civilized nations. It had been raided. Twenty thousand men, women, and children, killed, raped, or enslaved. A tragedy that reverberated to this day.

All because of Orcs, the long running holder of the title ‘Worst Race of People’, due entirely to popular opinion. Which made me, as a Half-Orc, an honorary member.

“I did.” The dwarf reached behind himself and took out a blade. The dagger was as long as my forearm, with a nasty serrated edge. “How about it, demon spawn?” The hate in his eyes was tinged with the familiar edge of an old pain. “Did your people fell any remorse as they killed and raped my family?”

Of course, it was at this point I decided to open my big mouth.

“What is the nearest Dwarven King doing right now?”

All three stared at me uncomprehendingly for a moment.

“… what?” The skinny one said dumbly.

“Well if we’re going assume we have insight into the minds of random members of our species we have never met, I’d like to sate my curiousity as well,” I wiped my mouth. “I was a child when Banfarse was attacked. I have never even met an orc before. There is literally no possible way I could know anything about the attack.”

If I’d been smart, I would have apologized. Maybe curled into a ball and let them beat me for a bit. I could take it.

Instead, from the way their eyes narrowed, they’d decided to escalate from ‘beat severely’, to ‘murder immediately’. This was immediately confirmed once the skinny one leaped forward to attack me.

He screamed, his bony fist impacting on my chest as his other hand went for a dagger. I took the blow with a grunt, then reacted with my own punch. It was a clumsy blow. I had no training as a fighter, and tended to simply lash out.

But that’s the thing about Half-Orcs. I have a lot of muscle to back up my unskilled blows.

The loud smack of flesh on flesh when I hit his chest was followed by the skinny man flying back down the alley. He didn’t make a sound, but the way his eyes widened as he took off like a cannon made it clear he was in pain.

The dwarf surprised when he barely reacted to the sudden flight of his ally. He dodged around his friend, stepping forward. That was when I got nervous. The way he held his blade, spinning it around, his steps moving into obviously well-practiced motions, all spoke of training.

This was confirmed when he stepped past my second punch and slashed at my stomach. My shirt parted easily, and my tough skin only gave a bit more resistance. If I hadn’t instinctively stepped back, I probably would have been disemboweled, instead of feeling the white heat following the slash before blood came out of the wound.

The dwarf smirked as he stepped away from another of my blows. I growled, anger beginning to come forth. I didn’t lose control, but I could feel that sweet rage burning within me at his smirk. If there is anything I hate more than being prosecuted, it’s when someone is becoming an absolute smug bastard.

I pulled out my dagger, spinning around to point at the dwarf. The fat man had run over to help, only to come to a stop at the sight of the dagger in my hand. He licked his lips nervously. The dwarf’s eyes narrowed into little slits.

“I just want to go home,” My chest rumbled as I spoke. Both men flinched at the way anger turned the sound of my voice into something horrific.

Then the dwarf shook his head. “My wife is dead because of you,” The pain in his voice was enough to make me feel for him. Then he glared. “I’m going to kill you Orc. You and all your kind.”

“Heehee!” The fat man said stupidly. I ignored him, because the dwarf was coming at me again, his beard flying.

Panicking, I barely blocked his dagger with my own. Because of his height, it was hard to fight him. I had to stoop slightly, and my lack of training made that harder. Still, my dagger met his.

My dagger was a simply thing. A straight-edged blade with only a small symbol engrave near the hilt. I’d made the dagger myself, as an experiment.

So when lightning flowed from my blade to enter the dwarf’s, I was ready for it.

The bearded man yelped, hand spasming at the electricity hitting his skin. There was a slight backlash for me, and I gritted my tusks at the shocking sensation. But since I was ready, I was able to fight through the agony and kick out at the dwarf.

My foot sank into his barrel chest, pushing back the heavy man a step. The fat man, who’d been circling around us, leaped to try and punch me in the face. I took the blow, and stabbed my dagger into his arm, into the fleshy part above his wrist.

“AIEEE!” He screamed at the burst of electricity that came with the attack, his voice keening horribly in my ear. I reflexively smacked him in the face, putting a little too much strength into the blow and smashing his nose into mush. He screamed again, this time with blood pouring into his mouth from the pile of flesh that had been his nose. His double chins turned crimson.

The dwarf chose then to stab me in the thigh.

“Hn,” I mumbled at the sensation of steel once again parting flesh. My skin and muscle, being extremely tough, was able to take the blow well, but it shook me enough that the dwarf was able to stab me again in the stomach, right on top of the slash mark he’d made there.

“WAAAGH!” The roar that came out of me then was nothing like the sound a sentient being can make. My anger came out in a sudden blaze, and nothing could stop it.

I ripped my dagger out of the fat man and grabbed the dwarf by the beard with my other hand. The dwarf, who had just been ready to pull his dagger out of my stomach, had enough time to squawk before I threw him to the ground. I stabbed at him with my dagger, but he kicked it out of my hands and rolled to his feet.

“WAAAAUUGH!!!” I didn’t think. I just lashed out, punching the dwarf in the face. He grunted, rock hard skull weathering the blow. He punched me in the stomach, right next to where his dagger was still sticking into me. Pain and anger, like acid carving its way through my veins, took over me. I grabbed his head in both hands. We both roared in each other’s faces. I knew how I must have looked then. Black eyes turning into a golden amber. Small tusks fully revealed in my mouth as I snarled like an animal.

I pushed him back, ignoring the feel of iron hard fist slamming into my bloody stomach as red liquid poured onto the dirt. He released a loud ‘oomph’ when I pushed him into the building behind him. Still holding him in my hands, I began to smash the dwarfs head against the brick wall behind him. He roared, in pain, anger, and fear. I roared back. Blood began to smear the wall behind him. I felt his skull under my hands, and knew it would crack soon. The anger inside me burned.

And then a slim pair of arms came around to wrap around my chest. Cool hands pressed against my skin, like a balm for my anger. They pressed against me, pulling me back slightly, but gently.

“Now, Char,” A voice whispered in my ear, like silk against my skin. “As hot and bothered seeing you all blood rage gets me, you really shouldn’t kill the idiot.”

I stared at the dwarf, not looking back at the person behind me. His massive head was still in my hands. Blood soaked his hair. He looked up at me, glassy eyed.

The anger left, replaced by a sickening pain. I’d lost control again. And someone had almost died for it.

I let go of the dwarf, letting him fall.

“There you are,” The hands on my chest moved, pressing to turn me. Even on my worst day, the hands wouldn’t have been able to force me to move. There was no ‘real’ strength to them. Still, I let myself get turned around.

The woman who stood there when I turned was stunning. Red hair flowed down her shoulders like fire pouring across soft silk. Her green eyes glittered like jade pools. Her face had an odd combination of sensuality, maturity, and strength. While she was well-formed, her body’s incredible curves were clearly built for more savory activities than the one I’d just engaged in. She was shorter than me, but then I tended to tower over most people. She was wearing a very short slip that revealed the curve of her breasts and the long inches of her smooth legs and arms.

“Jennifer,” I said softly. I did my best anyways, as the recent fight had still turned my voice into something demonic. She shuddered at the sound of voice, biting her lip as she eyed me. “This isn’t your section of the city.”

“The other girls said they saw you being followed,” She looked over her shoulder. “Ladies.”

From the shadows, a veritable army of women came forth. Humans like Jennifer, slim and beautiful elves, curvy dwarves, and short halflings.

Whores. The Whores of Allgowlden City.

Well, working girls, as Jennifer called them. She said that the word whore had too many negatives to it. Jennifer was the madam of  Allgowlden City, a brothel famed all over. She took care of her girls, protecting them from anyone who would harm them.

I could see it in the way they acted around her. As the women gathered around us, they gave Jennifer respectful nods and awed smiles she got. Truly, among her girls, Jennifer was mother, teacher, employer, and friend. She’d been kind to me as a child, and I sometimes thought of her as the closest thing to a mother that I had.

She was also, as I was reminded when she panned her eyes over to the men I had beaten, someone who had long since gained a reputation for ruthlessness that had become legendary. She smiled, slowly, at the skinny one.

The man was rising to his feet, legs and arms quaking. He spat blood from his mouth, pathetically whimpering. He looked up, eyes widening at the sight of fourteen woman dressed in evening wear surrounding Jennifer and I in a circle.

“I must admit however, that you aren’t the only reason I came, Char,” She walked forward, red heels clicking on the cobblestones. Rather than looking out of place in the grimy alley, she somehow gave the place a beauty that was somehow dangerous. Like silk sliding across a sharp blade, she walked towards the skinny man.

Her girls stepped away from me to join her. I watched, not moving my body. There was a ceremony to the movement of the girls. Slowly, one by one, each smiled. They mirrored their madam in every motion. The skinny man stared at the group of women stalking towards him, beautiful smiles gazing upon.

“You see, Char,” Jennifer came to a stop, kneeling down to look the skinny man in the eye. “This young man is new to the city. Like many sailors, he decided to take some time in the most well-known brothel in town,” She chuckled, eyes sparkling. “I cannot blame him. I make a living off the natural urges of all species. To not indulge such things from time to time is to be inhuman.” She reached out a gentle hand to stroke the man’s chin, uncaring of the blood pouring from his nose and mouth. “But then, he did something,” Her fingers traced the countours of his jaw. He shuddered, eyes bright with some unknown emotion. “One of my girls apparently didn’t satisfy him as he wished. She was a new girl, just a bright babe who wanted to save up money to protect her family.”

Her fingers suddenly gripped the skinny mans jaw. He yelped, eyes widening. Still smiling, her voice like air on the wind, she continued. “He beat her. Took her roughly, angrily. That poor girl can’t even speak now. I promised I would protect her. It is a promise I give to all my girls.”

A chill rose in the air. Jennifer stopped smiling.

“I do not break promises. And I do not let anyone hurt my family.” She leaned forward, whispering into his ear as tears fell down his cheeks, terror in his eyes.

The chill increased to the point that even my tough skin began to feel uncomfortable, yet none of the scantily-clad women so much as shuddered. They simply watched and smiled. That eerie, loving, uncaring smile.

“And now, you’ve come after Char. One of my girls, and now one of my boys. That is twice you tried to hurt what is mine,” The blade, my blade sliced deeply into his throat. He screamed.

Electricity came out of the blade, slamming deep into his body. I’d long since studied what happens when a body is hit directly by electricity. In preparation for that, my dagger had been designed for only brief shocks. It would hurt, as I’d proven, but all it did was send jolts into people for a few seconds.

His screams of agony as the electricity poured into him was the first indication something was wrong. The second was the lightning that began to surround Jennifer and her victim. Soon, bright arcs of power lit the alley like a thousand candles, turning into an orb of power. I shaded my eyes from the light with my arm, trying to watch. The white wall of power surrounded the two of them, obscuring them from view. Thunder echoed in the small space.

The man’s screams… I had never heard anything like it. So full of fear, pain, and sadness. They echoed, over and over. Until finally, they petered out.

In a burst of light, the electricity faded. I lowered my arm, staring at Jennifer.

The man’s body was charred meat now, his clothes ash. The dagger at his waist had melted into his hipbones. His eyes had popped from the lightning pumping through him, leaving his blackened face to stare eternally with empty sockets.

Jennifer rose to her feet. My dagger was gone. “Apologies, Char. Your dagger seems to have disappeared,” She turned to smile. “It was very well made. I’ll have to recommend your shop for such things.”

I kept my face still. My dagger, though magical, wasn’t capable of holding that much energy. However the horror I’d just seen occurred, only Jennifer could be responsible for it. “It is no problem,” I looked over at the dwarf and the fat man. “And them?”

“Hmm,” She stepped forward, leaving the smoking carcass of the skinny man behind her. Her girls followed her with their eyes, unmoving as she passed them to come up to me. “Well, you did a good job beating them. Still, if you would prefer for me to finish them as well…”

“No thank you,” I held back a wince as pain from the blade impaled within me filled my body.

“You’re hurt,” Jennifer nodded to one of her girls, an elf girl. “Heal him, please. It wouldn’t do for me to come all this way and simply let him die.”

“Yes, miss,” The elf girl, a tall young woman with beautiful black hair, stepped towards me. I stood still as she took the dagger by the handle with her right hand, placing her left hand against my stomach. She pulled the dagger out slowly. As she did, her left hand began to glow, green and soothing. With every inch that came out, I could feel my flesh slowly knit together. I growled, trying to control myself. She flinched at the noise, but continued working, slim features screwed up in concentration.

At last, the final bit of the dagger was out. I watched the hole it had left slowly melt away. Not even a scar was left. My thigh, the stab wound, the slash mark, my bruised knuckles, it was all gone.

The elf girl wasn’t even winded. Her bright blue eyes stared at me icily, long pointed ears twitching as she stood there with all the imperiousness of a queen, hands clasped in front of her.

“Well done, Myrandra,” Jennifer stepped toward me. I didn’t flinch, but she must have seen something. She frowned sadly. “Still scared of me, Char?”

I almost laughed. Here I was, a massive half-orc, terrified of a brothel’s madam.

But then, I’d just seen her vaporize a man using the magic I’d wanted for self-defense. She had more power in her pinkie than I did my whole body. She was a killer, a blackmailer, and someone more terrifying than the demons of the netherealm.

She was still the closest thing I had to a mother. But yes. She scared me. After this… and after all that I had seen, knowing the full truth of her? I would be insane not to be scared of this woman.

Jennifer noticed too. She sighed sadly. “Very well. I suppose I’ll leave you for now. Just know I’m here whenever you need me,” She turned around. “We’ll call the watch. I assume Arthur will want you home soon. Tell him the girls miss him.”

I stared at her back. I wanted to reach for her. Damn it, I cared for her. I wanted her to know that, that in this city that hated me so much she was one of the people I cared for with all my heart. But I couldn’t. Not after seeing, once more, the monster hidden beneath her kindness.

Feeling like the worst hypocrite in the world, I turned and walked away.