Avara the Orc Ch. 02

Kira woke with a jolt, and momentarily forgot where she was. Her hand instinctively went for a dagger, but she stopped herself at the last second.

Oh yeah, she thought. We've been traveling all day.

"Did you nudge me?" asked Kira.

"We're here. Time to wake up," said Talla from behind.

Three travelers and two horses made for tricky travel. That morning they had decided—or rather, Avara decided—that Avara would ride her horse Greyfor, while Kira and Talla would ride together on the sorceress' horse. Kira was a bit put off at having to share at first, but she had to admit, it was quite comfortable. She sat in front of Talla, and eventually realized—being the much smaller individual—she could simply lean back into the woman, and she eventually fell asleep. Her head rested between the hanging bits of wolf fur, not to mention the woman's teats, so it was surprisingly comfortable.

She had slept most of the way to Yotul, but now they had arrived.

"Ah," she said, smiling. "Civilization. Ancient and wicked. My kind of place."

The city had a defensive wall around it made of stone, and buildings within were all clay or stone, with flat roofs and balconies up top. People sat atop these roofs as if they were simply another room in the building. There were no proper guards at the entrance, but some armed burly men and women did look like they kept an eye on the comings and goings.

The dead bodies hanging in the gibbets at the city entrance were impossible to miss.

"Probably thieves," said Kira. "Not like us, right?" Her humor was lost on her party.

Once they entered the city, Kira was overwhelmed with sounds and smells. The noise of the crowd at midday filled her ears. Somewhere people hit drums and blew flutes. Camels groaned and spat and goats bleated. All manner of scents filled her nostrils. Some pleasant, some not so pleasant. Meats cooking at the fires of street vendors. Incense pouring from homes. A resident throwing a bucket's contents out his window and into the street. A man and woman fucking up on a roof, the woman's hands against the edge. It was all so overwhelming.

They passed through a cloud of smoke, and Avara coughed. "Such chaos," she said with a scowl.

"I know," said Kira. "Isn't it great?"

The people wore slight clothing, and most of it was browns or greys. Nobody in this area looked especially wealthy. Many of the men went shirtless, and some women wore clothing that exposed a single breast. Very rarely, a woman with both breasts out passed by, their only clothing the skirts about their hips.

"When they've got both breasts exposed," said Kira to Talla, "that means they're available. So keep that wolf pelt on if you don't want to get groped."

"Shouldn't you be concerned with your own clothing, then?" asked Talla.

Kira looked down at her bared torso and open vest. "What, me? Not at all, this is a completely respectable vest." She tugged at her vest and pulled it together a bit, effectively covering her small breasts for the moment. "Not my fault I can't stand restraining clothing."

They passed by an area dotted with a few naked people locked in stocks, their heads and hands stuck within the three holes in a board. Public humiliation for crimes, no doubt. It seemed Queen Siggy dealt out justice, whether fair or not remained to be seen. They were mostly men, with plenty of filth and garbage thrown onto their bare bodies, but one older women at the end was currently getting mounted from behind by some rowdy young townsmen.

Most everyone stared at the three newcomers wherever they went. Kira and Talla got looks, certainly, the interesting pair riding together atop a rare horse in town. But Avara most of all. Orcs were most certainly a strange sight to them.

They steered clear and wide of her, but didn't mind passing close by Kira and Talla. One of the men looked up at them and smiled, and brushed his hand against Kira's exposed thigh. "Hey there, lovelies. Fancy a rest in the shade?"

Talla immediately slapped his face with a riding crop and they moved onward. "Such rude manners," she said.

"Talla, you can't just go around slapping people in the face with a whip," said Kira, looking over her shoulder up at her. "That's how you get knifed in a town like this."

"Touching us without permission is how you get knifed in a town like this."

They continued on. Kira directed where to go, and together the three winded their way through the busy and bustling streets of Yotul. Eventually they made it to a low and wide building with a garden of vines off to one side where some young people sat and drank date wine. Hookah smoke came trailing out the windows, and no less than three prostitutes loitered about near the entrance. Goats rummaged about in an alley around the corner.

"Ah, home sweet home," said Kira. "This is the Goat's Milk. A fine establishment if there ever was one."

They dismounted and stabled the horses, which cost a bit more than it should have, but found it cool and calm inside the inn and wine house. Kira saw a few familiar faces.

"Bofur! How long as it been, you old dog, you? Samsa, good to see you haven't lost the other eye yet."

There were still plenty of faces she didn't know, though, and was always aware of who was behind her, where her twin daggers rested at her hips.

The building was mostly made up of a large common room filled with rugs, pillows, furs, and low tables. Hookahs and fires dotted the place. People sprawled about, either drinking, eating, smoking, sleeping, or fucking. Some threw dice. There were a few private rooms along the back, but this was an inn where you slept wherever you pleased, more or less. A man led a pair of goats straight through the common room from one end to the other.

Kira approached the bar, her two partners awkwardly hanging back. She leaned an elbow on the counter. "Bralor, my old friend! Good to see you still standing upright."

A stout, older, angry looking man frowned at Kira. "So you still live too, eh? I lost a bet, it seems. There is to be no fighting here this time. No blood on the furs like last time."

"Blood on the furs? Me? Bralor, Bralor, you paint a poor picture of your good friend. I would never. Here, meet my partners. Talla here with the pet wolf around her shoulders, and the big green lady is Avara. An orc."

"I can see that. I'll give you a room. To avoid the inevitable fight. You'll owe me, I assume?"

Kira counted the few dinars left in her coin purse. "Er, yes, Bralor."

"Huh. Turns out I do know you, don't I? Very well. You will pay tab, or you will die trying, yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now drink up." He shoved forward three mugs of date wine, and they drank up.

**

Avara was wary.

She was already missing the wide open plains and the fresh air. The walls in the city were too closed in, too many narrow little pathways, and more than anything, too many people. Making their way through the streets was bad, with every set of human eyes staring down the orc, but inside the Goat's Milk she found some small refuge.

Their party settled on some pillows and rugs around a low table in the corner of the common room. Avara drank her date wine. It was good, if rather weak. Most likely watered down.

"So anyway, as I was sayin'," said Kira. "We've got to come up with the plan. Tonight is still too early. We need to scope things out, get a good look at the queen's palace. I know a contact who supposedly knows a secret entrance into the place. I'll sniff him out today and get the goods. And then tomorrow night, that's the night."

"We still need to find our fourth member," said Avara, her glowing green eyes never stopping in their scanning of the room. "Our whore."

"Oh, sure, sure, yeah. You're in the right place for it. They're everywhere around here."

The girl-woman was correct. There were indeed many women who looked as if they were willing to sell their bodies for money. They wore silk skirts or loincloths around their hips, but their breasts were bared, giving truth to Kira's earlier words about bared breasts meaning a woman was available. There were short ones, tall ones, thin ones, voluptuous ones, small-breasted, large-breasted, light skin, brown skin, black skin, short hair, long hair. All types.

"So as I was saying'—" Kira was cut off by a sudden commotion coming from outside. It sounded as if some kind of crowd was forming.

"What's that?" asked Talla, arching a black eyebrow.

"Trouble of some kind?" asked Avara.

"Or fun. Come on, let's get a look," said Kira.

Avara found herself following along once again after the little woman, and when they emerged from the Goat's Milk they saw a flow of a great many people snaking down the street.

"Let's follow them," said Kira, and the group moved on until they arrived at one of Yotul's larger streets. "Look, there!"

She pointed at a massive palanquin. The transport was gilded with gold and the inside was completely hidden by silk curtains that surrounded the entire square. She counted maybe twenty big, burly, shirtless men carrying the structure, each bearing one of the four great poles. Armed guards followed along on foot, a mix of men and women in black, spike-adorned leather gear.

"It's Queen Siggy and King Bofod, it's got to be," said Kira, following along with the crowd as the palanquin was carried down the street. "Looks like she's meeting with the people today. Apparently she does that sometimes."

The city's reaction was split. Many people cheered, waving their hands out, wanting to get close to the palanquin. But many others jeered and booed and even threw a handful of filth in the queen's direction.

"The crowd," said Talla, looking concerned at all the noise and commotion. "They both love and hate her."

"That's right," said Kira. "It's all pretty divisive here. The ones who are into reveling all day and night are fans of the queen because she encourages that. A lot of them are demon-worshipers like her and want to join her cult. But then many others hate the woman, call her a usurper, evil, wicked. Want her out of the city, along with all of her demon-worship."

"Hmm," said Talla. "Which demon does she worship?"

"How would I know?" asked Kira. "Maybe a cousin of yours or something."

Avara froze and the blood in her veins went cold. There, walking foremost among the guards, she spotted two other orcs. They were armed with heavy steel, and wore black leather skirts and brassieres. They were roughly the same size as Avara with similar frames, although one was shaved bald and another had close-cut hair that spiked up, shaved on the sides. They swaggered, and Avara spotted the sway of their large penises beneath their skirts.

"You didn't say anything about the queen having orcs," said Avara.

"Oh yeah, well she does," said Kira. "What? It's no big problem, is it? I mean we'll be stealing from her, not taking on her whole army."

"It is a problem," growled Avara. "Humans pose no threat to me. Other orcs, however, complicate things greatly."

Someone managed to hit the palanquin's curtains with some dung, and the orc with spiky hair nodded in the direction the shit flew from, sending several armed men and women guards that way. Avara expected a dead body soon.

Eventually, they reached an open square and the slaves carrying the palanquin stopped and set it down gently. The crowd waited, tense and quieting.

The curtain slid open, moved by a third orc who had been inside the palanquin the whole time. This one was taller than the others, with the sides of her head shaved, but her hair was long, done up in a high mohawk.

She stepped aside, revealing Queen Siggy.

Avara was transfixed.

Siggy reclined on her side facing the crowd with a great big smile on her face. She was naked. Completely. The only things she wore were some jewels, sandals, and—curiously—a collar around her neck with a fine chain leash hanging from it.

She was built like no other woman Avara had ever seen. Tall. Voluptuous. To an extreme degree. She was thick, with wide hips, and an enormous butt. Her buttocks were large and round, sitting high up.

Kira had previously mentioned her having the biggest teats in the land, and Avara had simply assumed the bandit had been jesting as she always did. She was not jesting. Avara had never seen a pair of tits as large as this before, on a human, orc, or anything other creature or monster of the land. In her current position lying on her side, it was hard to get a gauge, but they looked as if they hung past her bellybutton, such was their great size and weight. Currently, they pooled on a pillow in front of her in two big heaps. The areolas were wide and brown, the nipples long and thick.

She smiled brilliantly, white teeth flashing. Her eyes were gemstone green. Her hair was blonde. She was beautiful.

Avara wanted to mount her, and her twitching cock agreed.

There, almost hidden behind her in the back of the palanquin, reclined a young man in a purple robe with black hair and a smooth face. He was handsome, but had a timid look about him.

"People of Yotul!" she shouted into the square, her strong voice carrying. "Rejoice and celebrate!"

Many people cheered, some even on their knees in adoration. Other booed and hissed and threw garbage, much of it pelting the grounds in front of the palanquin.

"Know that I see you all!" shouted Siggy. "I do not sit in my palace idly, but I come down to provide, to discourage, to sabotage in the name of our shared deity!"

"You are to provide?" shouted an older man in a turban who had pushed forward. "We are starving. The city is starving. The crops along the river grow weak, the cattle and livestock grow sickly. Provide food for us then!"

"I'll do even better," said Siggy. "I give you wealth!" She then threw her hand up and out, flinging a handful of coins into the crowd. The crowd surged into a froth, all trying to catch what they could, or pick up coins from the ground.

"Hmm," said Kira, squinting across the expanse. "I know my coinage. Those aren't dinars. They're just bits. Basically worthless."

"But the crowd enjoys it so," said Talla.

Some of the queen's guards went into action, carrying out large pots. "I provide wine!" The wine pots were awkwardly taken by the surging crowd. Some of them were opened right then and there, much of the contents spilled onto the street.

"I provide doom! Rejoice and perish!" The guards then threw little pouches out into the crowd. Doom. An intense mix of plants that kept the head happy and subdued when smoked. Highly addicting. Avara generally avoided the stuff.

The cheers grew louder, as did the jeers. Those who loved her loved her even more. Those who hated her hated her even more.

"All praise Guulshura!" cried out Siggy, hand in the air. "Give worship and praise to our demon!"

Avara noticed a look in Talla's face. "Guulshura," she repeated.

"You know of this demon?"

"Yes. She's a powerful one. Very powerful. And very dangerous. On a higher tier than the lower demon of lust I've enslaved. She is a mistress of ruin. She delights in destruction."

Avara grunted. "We must be cautious in this city, then. This queen is indeed a great evil."

They continued to watch as the queen threw out more coins, shouting her religion at the crowd. "We are none long for this world! Tomorrow we all perish, so celebrate today! Celebrate the present! Wallow in pleasure and debauchery and sacrifice our tomorrows! Make Guulshura joyful! Revel in wickedness!"

At length, she ran out of coins. The curtain closed, and the palanquin was hauled up and carried on its way.

***

"I just so love being a woman of the people," said Queen Siggy as she reclined back into her pillows insider her palanquin. "I was born to rule, wasn't I?"

"Yes dear, you were," said King Bofod.

Siggy felt warm and good all over. It was like a gift to exist in her own body. Always aroused at every waking hour, always primed for pleasure.

She shifted about, enjoying the sensation of her skin against the silk pillows and fur rug. Her fingers ran up her forearms, and then cupped her enormous breasts, palming her nipples and giving herself a hug. The palanquin slowly trundled its way back to her palace, carried on the backs of twenty slaves, and the gentle movement rocked her to and fro.

"You should think more of long-term policy," said Faore where she sat just up above Siggy on a small, low chair backed by more pillows. The orc lounged and brought a hookah mouthpiece to her lips, sucking in and blowing out smoke. "Yotul will not last the year if we continue following Guulshura and her mandates."

Bofod, of course, looked uncomfortable, mentally caught between two women.

Siggy smiled. "Oh Faore, always worrying so. Didn't you see the people? They love me. Cheered and knelt to their knees for me."

"Half of them," said Faore. "The other half was throwing shit at you. And speaking of that, you should give me the go ahead to slaughter that dissenting portion of the city. They are flames at your feet."

"The people's hatred warms me just as much as the people's love." She let go of her breasts, her silver chain leash jingling between them, and felt them hang down onto her chest and belly. Her thighs rubbed together. "You worry so much. As if you don't have anything and everything you ever wanted. No other orc lives like you, especially any that are just hired swords."

"And when the city fails?"

"It won't fail. We'll just sack more neighboring cities and kingdoms for more treasure is what we'll do. It's worked so far." Siggy idly rubbed at her own cunt, her fingers slipping down her smooth crotch and toying with her aroused clitoris. It was big and fat, a distinct nub between her fingers as she casually rubbed it.

"But we'll run out of cities to sack eventually. And besides, sacking those cities has disrupted supply chains in the region. Important trade routes that supply us with grain and livestock have been cut off."

"Oh you. With your supply lines and trade routes. How dreadfully boring. It's been far too long since I've had my ass filled." She stretched her long legs out, running her toes up and down Bofod's chest, prodding at his crotch a bit roughly. He didn't seem to mind.

"It's been since this morning," said Faore.

"Like I said, far too long. Anyway, what do I care if the people starve? There's enough food for us and everyone else that matters." Siggy let go of her clit and reached around her wide hips and large, round buttocks, slipping one finger right into her asshole, dry, and then a second. She explored, pushing in to the hilt.

Faore sighed and set the hookah piece down. "If you keep praying for ruin from your so-called demon, ruin is what you shall receive."

"Yes, but it will be so fun, won't it?" Siggy smiled up at Faore, that beautiful orc with her high mohawk, glowing green eyes and heaps of muscle, not to mention lovely breasts in their black leather brassiere. "Which reminds me, we need new acolytes for the orgy chamber."

"We have plenty of new members. Every day it seems someone from the city joins."

"Yes, but I've already played with all those. I grow bored. They can stay down in the dungeons for now. Any new ones, send them to the main hall at once." She pulled her fingers out of her body and brought them to her lips, sucking on them, tasting her own ass.

"Sure thing."

"Hmph. And a bit more respect would be in order, Faore. You forget your place. You're to protect my life and provide the services I require, nothing more." She replaced her fingers back into her asshole, slowly pumping herself.

"Of course, my mistress. I only feel I should advise you, is all."

"Advise me? You're hired muscle. A goon. You're my bodyguard, that's all."