The Keep

It was spring and food was bountiful. Berries and fresh meat were available for the catching. A small pig roasted over the spit as Kali watched it intently, patting the small animal next to her. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was tiny and furry and cute, and Lae seemed to like it well enough. They all had to admit it was nice to have something else to visit them. They called the little critter Oshu, hoping that it would keep them connected to the orcs… to their history.

Spring wasn’t always as bountiful as it was this year, and the three orcs grew, their bodies becoming firm and healthy, their skin losing some of its sallow hue as they ate, living the best they could on what they could find. Kali and Grot were becoming adults, their bodies changing and growing, their tattered wardrobe no longer fitting them properly. Kali began to teach Lae to sew, and though the leather was difficult to work with and of poor quality, they were able to do all they needed.

Life wasn’t perfect, though. Though the three of them lived in relative comfort out in the wilds, living off the land, their brethren weren’t so fortunate. The Dragonmaw had all but disappeared from the area, small camps emerging here and there, and then gone the next week: moved or caught. The battle at Blackrock was long lost, the orcs pushed back into its walls, or worse.

Kali had overheard about the camps from the Dragonmaw months earlier. Kali, Grot and Lae picked up and moved often, again, every few weeks moving further along the lake, trying to keep their distance between them and the alliance, fearful of being caught or seen.

~~

Lae’s short legs pumped as she ran, her heart pounding against her chest. She, too, was growing and was now the same age as Kali when they first left the orcs, and certainly no child. Kali trained her hard with her axe, testing her strength, endurance and reflexes, and the very same had just paid off.

She nearly collapsed as she came to their camp, looking around desperately for Grot and Kali. She spotted them in the distance, and, throwing a few things into her knapsack, ran to them, hissing loudly in their ears, “they’re coming!”, her lower lip quivering as she spoke. Kali immediately jumped up, running and grabbing what she could, putting out the fire and tearing down the tent.

Grot looked down at Lae, trying to make his face not register his panic. “Are you sure, Lae?” he spoke, his voice now low and deep, no longer that of a child. She nodded eagerly, sprinting back to help Kali finish packing.

The three of them moved out quickly, their detris still on the ground near their camp, moving north as fast as they could. Oshu was squeezed tightly in Lae’s arms, his long brown ears hitting her chin as she ran, his nose sniffing at the unfamiliar smells.

For weeks they moved, terrified to stop, even as they passed through darker and danker forests, staying close to the rocky hills. They slept for three hours at a time, moving the best they could through the darkness of night, until they could no longer run. The dwarves, if they had ever found their settlement, had probably long given up the chase, but it was the only thing they could do in order to keep their minds at ease.