Orc Dominion: Falling Leaves

Falling leaves.

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To those who dislike M/M, you are warned...

For the two main characters in this story, whilst not exactly gay... are definitely Bisexual.

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Author's Notes: I who am known as Sexinati, a young scribe, have found a good patron in OrcDominion, and finding myself friends with said OrcDominion, do so solemnly swear to set forth my words to paper. Know now that much of which flows from my lips be not of my world, but that of my Patron, and with such Patronage I do so endeavour to be as endearing as possible, to make their characters as real to me as their originals, and so it shall be. But of those two actors, those lovers, those brash young men with hearts and minds of differing means, those are of my own conception, and thus are mine and mine alone.

Or, in a less medieval sounding fashion, this is a fan-work, or a Fanfiction of OrcDominion's Orc Dominion series. I have Permission from OrcDominion to pursue this story, yada-yada-yada.

I highly recommend reading OrcDominion's work first If you have not already done so. Not necessarily because you would miss out anything important in the plot, but because the abovementioned series inspired this whole story in the first place, and would not be written In the first place without it. It is a Fan-fiction after all!

Okay, let's watch men fight! (And stuff.)

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Here he was, the disinherited son of minor nobility, once forced to live with his uncle because his father died and his mother was remarried to an Orc. His mother had new children, and these children were chosen to inherit the land that ought to belong to him.

Now he was about to put his mettle on the line, to fight for coin, to fight in Trogar's celebratory games, because he had nothing left after his 'brothers' sold his uncle's estate after his death, pocketing the money from the sale that should have belonged by rights to him. He didn't even get recompense from his 'second' father. What a fucking dishonour it was.

But Ernaut wasn't bitter about it, or sorrowful; he was apathetic about the whole affair because he knew deep down that somehow his life would take on a new leaf, even when he was on the precipice. Because to not hope that something would change for him for the better would somehow crush him. Live with hope inside, or live with nothing but fire and hate, that great-burning forge inside the soul... he knew which one stressed him less, which one gave him strength instead of sorrow.

How fortunate that instead of focusing on the finer details of noble life he decided to focus on learning how to fight; how to best wield and use a sword or a mace, how to use a quarterstaff and spear; so that in all things of a martial hue he would never know peril. It was going to be these skills that were going to earn him his bread and butter until such a time that he could find hire as a mercenary, or even perhaps as a retainer for a minor lord and from that seek further fortunes down the line. And when he had enough fame, he would marry into a wealthy family and start life anew, he saw it now, within his head, the life he wanted to live. This was his resolve.

And here he was, the moment that he had waited months for. Here was his chance to show his mettle, his resolve as a man, now that he had turned old enough to be called such. Eighteen years old, such a magical age to be. Perhaps he would gain the coin he needed to kick-start his journey to further heights. By nineteen, he hoped to live well.

"Ernaut of Stropford, take to the ring." The announcer shouted over the crowd. A trumpet call soon offered its roar, filling the crowd with excitement.

Ernaut walked up to the fence-posted ring, his mail armour shone with the sun. His buckler was hung to a hip, secured around his belt by a loose knot. His arming sword remained in its leather scabbard, secured on the left side of his belt.

The young noble raised his hands high, trying to earn the praise of the crowd. He drew little in the way of cheering, and that pricked at Ernaut's pride.

"Sir Lorak, take the ring!" The announcer called out. The cheers from the crowd came pouring down. Hoots and catcalls came from the women, and certain garments were thrown, swaying in the air as though they were like leaves falling from a tree.

The human had never heard of his opponent, nor had he ever seen him. But, from the cheering, he thought that he must have been a great fighter.

Ernaut realized that his opponent was an orc, which filled him with emotions that seized upon his heart, the hint of anger, the tinge of stress and anxiousness. The size was the clear give-away that his opponent was an orc, even though his opponent's face was covered by a front-caged helmet. The orc armoured himself in mail, and he wielded a great axe. The edge was dulled, but the killing potential still remained.

Ernaut liked his chances of victory; he wielded a buckler to defend himself, while his opponent was armed with only his axe.

'Alright, calm down... maybe this orc won't be an asshole.' Ernaut thought to himself as he tried to control his breathing.

The orc entered the stage and raised his axe high, earning the fevered pitch of the crowd in response.

"These two men fight for the prize, two hundred golden marks... make your ready..." The announcer shouted.

The orc raised his axe high into the air, waiting for the match to start.

"You should give up, Human. You couldn't possibly win against me." The Orc taunted.

'Well, this orc might be a bit of an asshole, but kicking his ass might change his tune.' Ernaut thought with a smirk.

Ernaut took to his ward, both hands raised true and to the front of himself, with his buckler placed above the hilt of his sword, covering his sword hand whilst he made simple wrist motions with the sword, then finally he made a small flourish, using cutting arcs that were smooth and highly accurate whilst using the buckler to guard the hand as it moved to and fro, to display off his skill to his opponent. He didn't feel like taunting back, he felt it was better to show the orc his merit through his skill at arms. Still, he hated the feelings that would show up whenever an orc called him 'human', because certain figures in his past still made him tremble with rage at that word.

"Fight!"

Ernaut heard the call, and readied his feet.

His opponent made the first move, swinging his axe down into a mighty blow.

Ernaut's legs propelled him forwards, sword moving towards his opponent whilst he presented the edge of his buckler to the swinging axe. The axe struck the edge and lost some of its momentum as it deflected off, moving to the side whilst Ernaut's sword struck Lorak in the chest. Ernaut smiled, knowing what to do. he would pull the axe with his buckler hand and deprive his foe of his weapon. 'Take the haft in my palm. Side step and pull, attack the hands and thrust to the head. I must grip the axe, but fear being pulled.'

And so the human's instincts acted. With the palm of his buckler hand he gripped the haft of the axe and took a side-step, moving his hips to a side to generate extra force into his pull. The orc held onto the axe with full force whilst Ernaut's sword made a quick slash for his opponent's wrists, hoping to damage his opponent in the hand, or to force the orc to lose the grip on his weapon.

Lorak was about to pull the axe backwards but saw the sword arcing through at the final moment. The human was skilled enough to know that he was not strong enough to counteract should Lorak pull the weapon, which is why he made it so that Lorak would be unable to act.

"Fuck!" Lorak shouted. This was not his average noble-boy seeking fame and fortune, this one had some requisite knowledge in martial training.

Lorak dropped his great axe before the strike came to his hands, quickly stepping backwards in half-jumps so that the human could not make a follow-up thrust to his face. Lorak knew full-well that to have kept a grip on the axe would have resulted in having his hands being struck by his opponent's sword and would allow for his opponent to utilise a variety of grappling or sword moves on him. Superior strength isn't going to help you much when your arms are binded and you have a sword on your neck.

Although the match was decided by strikes to the head which would score a point, gaining strikes to the limbs could allow for an opponent to gain an advantage by damaging their opponent's limbs until they were less effective. The fight was decided by whoever scored three points, or by submission. Lorak wanted submission, but that was unlikely to be found given his opponent, unless he was lucky.

'I will show this human who is boss, I cannot be defeated' Lorak thought to himself.

The human set his sword down on the centre of the ring and then he removed his buckler and set it down over the sword, quickly leaving with the great axe held in a guard.

'He's switching up the weapons,' Lorak thought. 'Interesting, he must think that I don't know how to use a sword in conjunction with a buckler. He's wrong.'

Lorak quickly rushed up to take the sword and buckler, hoping that his human opponent wouldn't take the opportunity to rush forwards and strike him. Instead, Lorak watched as his opponent examined his great axe.

Ernaut took to the right side of the ring whilst Lorak gathered up the weapons. He tested the balance and handling of the axe and found that like most axes, the great axe in his hands was most agile on the end without the head, so Ernaut planned to exploit on his superior knowledge of spearplay.

'I am quite good with the quarterstaff and the spear, and with the axe like this, I could surely utilise some of the same moves.'

And so, Ernaut held the axe in such a way so that the shaft was held furthest out and presented forward much like a spear, whilst the axe head was facing towards Ernaut's back, ready to strike a deadly blow whenever Ernaut found a weakness that could be exploited.

And so it was that Ernaut prodded and teased with the axe haft like a scorpion showing its stinging tail, trying to provoke his opponent into action.

Lorak saw the Human's intent just by watching how he utilised the axe. 'Well, this human isn't dumb, he wants to figure out how I guard, how I react, then when he spots a weakness he will strike with the axehead. Expect thrusts and faints, watch my legs and face, force the fight to my terms.'

Ernaut began to slowly move towards his opponent, watching how he moved, how he acted. 'This Orc is cautious, not driven to rage... how do I act. What do I...?' Ernaut's thoughts were interrupted by Lorak, who quickly thrust at the human with his sword, buckler guarding Lorak's sword hand.

Ernaut reacted by trained instinct, presenting the shaft of the axe like a spear for a thrust that was done from overhead so that Lorak's sword could not make an attack for his sides or to his head unless he found his shaft was moved in a bind. Only Ernaut's hands would be vulnerable, and that was his chief concern.

Ernaut was hoping for the Orc to use his buckler to bat the shaft aside, through which Ernaut could redirect the haft and reverse the weapon such that the axehead would find itself near the vicinity of the orc's head. Then he would make a sideways slice for the Orc's head or hook him around the neck and draw him forward to be beaten forthwith with a strike of the knee to the orc's head, which would count as a point. Alternatively, he could try hitting the buckler on its edge, trying to force it up high where it would lock-up the Orc's sword whilst giving ample room for Ernaut to thrust the axe-shaft into Lorak's face, scoring him a point.

Lorak felt as his buckler struck the shaft. With a single motion, he moved the buckler to its side and quickly wrapped his hand around the shaft and pulled with all his might, using the sword to try to deliver a thrust at that same moment because the sword could not deliver a cut strike to Ernaut's head. 'The human will come crumbling down, I will win!'

Ernaut felt the pull and he knew that he could not do a thing to counteract this motion.

But as a teacher taught him, react to strength with weakness, and from that weakness react with strength. So it was that the human quickly stepped to the right side, the side where Lorak's sword would not be able to reach around as effectively as from the left side, because his buckler was in the way of the sword. 'You may be stronger than me, orc... But I will beat you and win the prize, because my life depends on this victory!'

The human dropped his grip on the axe, allowing the Orc to pull the weapon away from his hands. Ernaut barely missed a strike aimed for his head whilst he made a step forwards.

'That bastard, he's going to trip me over!' Lorak screamed inside of his head.

Ernaut took one more step forward and pushed with his right hand towards Lorak's chest. At the same time, Ernaut manoeuvred his left leg behind the Orc's right leg whilst he used his left arm to entrap around Lorak's right hand, the wrist of the orc being trapped under Ernaut's armpit. The orc dropped his sword as a result whilst he began to fall downwards, tripping over Ernaut's leg. And so the Orc fell to the ground.

Ernaut, overconfident in his 'victory', stood tall, raising both the axe and the sword into the air. "The showing is won, the prize is mine!"

The crowd roared with applause for a moment... but then the cheering died down just as suddenly.

The human felt an arm grip around his neck from behind, suddenly forcing him down into the ground.

Ernaut felt as a knee was forced on top of his spine, whilst his arm was pulled back behind his shoulder, and his neck was held in a head-lock.

'Why did I do that... why in the fuck did I do that, is the cheer of the crowd worth this much!' Ernaut thought.

Lorak whispered into Ernaut's ear. "Surrender, or I'll break your arm... yell it out to them."

Ernaut sighed. He knew it was stupid to do what he did, but at least, for one moment, he had earned the praise of the crowd. "Fuck you, bitch!"

The human cried out in pain as his forearm was pulled back around from his elbow, almost breaking his arm.

"I surrender, I surrender... I submit!" Ernaut was on the verge of tears from the pain, but he knew on the inside that although he lost the match, he fought to the last and that he even called an orc a bitch. If you had to lose a match, at least do it in style. This was how Ernaut tried to live his life, to be optimistic about things, even when things seemed dark. There was nothing more that could be done.

Lorak tossed the human aside and jumped up into the air, his hands held high. The crowd roared in response.

'I won... ahahahahah, what a fucking idiot!' Lorak thought with a smirk on his face.

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Jeanette watched the fight, expecting the orc to win the match. She knew Lorak's father as a lowly lord of small means, but had not yet witnessed Lorak fight in the ring. The young orc was apparently of middling skill, better than Trogar, but not as good as her other sons.

She was honestly surprised by the mettle that the new fighter showed. Ernaut of Stropford, this was a name she would be watching for in the future. He was also of middling skill she thought, but perhaps he could become great in the future.

Jeanette turned to face Daniels, speaking quietly. "Write Lorak's father a letter expressing my joy at watching his son fight. Ernaut of Stropford, mark his name down for commendation for potential military service In my kingdom."

Jeanette then turned her head to face Dorian. "Find out all you can about this Ernaut of Stropford."

Dorian looked to the queen and smiled. "I'll look into it once we are back at the castle, your highness."

Jeanette then rose up from her box, and, because this was not scheduled, raised her voice to the announcer.

"Announcer, please send the victor up so that I might congratulate him for his efforts.

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Ernaut looked into the face of his once-opponent, Lorak. His beard, almost straight black with a tinge of brown, was made of two braids that were headed by two golden rings. His shirt was of silk brocade, and his pants were of fine cotton. He cut an impressive figure in Ernaut's eyes. And as embarrassing as it was, he found that he was attracted to the orc, even moreso after watching him up on high kissing the Queen right on the lips. What a sight it was.

Ernaut realised that he was different from most at age fifteen, for while he had the lingering attention of women's breasts from time to time, his eyes were drawn more by the male figure. Fit men, those were the best kind of men, followed by scrawny or effeminate men, then strong men. Fat men with great-rounded cheeks were not the sort to earn his attention, but as Ernaut was now, he was seeking for attention from any male.

"That disarmament move that you pulled off... I don't think I've ever seen it done so effectively... the sword came right out of my hand whilst I tumbled over." Lorak smiled, he liked talking about the fight from earlier. Nothing thrilled him as much as the adrenaline he got from fighting.

Ernaut watched as the orc brought his large pitcher to his mouth, careful not to spill because of the tusks in the way, drowning huge quantities of ale. He then wiped his mouth clean by swiping across his lips with his fingers.

'I wonder what having tusks would feel like.'

"My trainer taught me that the best disarmament is done when you are able to wrap the arm around the opponent's' wrist, and hold them by the armpit... they either drop the weapon or they are left unable to do anything with the sword because there is nothing that can be done whilst you are held in the armpit. If that doesn't work, you can get into an arm lock and dislocate the arm with a single movement," Ernaut then began to mime the technique. "Hold the wrist under an armpit, pull on the back of the elbow on the arm with some strength and turn your hips to the side, and in that motion you should snap the arm."

Lorak nodded his head, it wasn't often that he took tips from his opponents. "You were in the perfect position to force me to submit, weren't you? But you wanted the excitement of hearing the crowd call out your name, didn't you."

Ernaut simply nodded his head.

Ernaut began to wonder why the orc had offered to show him around for drinks, because in his average encounter with orcs, it was anything but a nice affair. He found orcs to be brutish, barbaric and uncouth, uncaring bastards and the worst sort of company. Yet here he was, drinking wine at a brothel with an orc, discussing martial techniques. Here, he found himself drawn into being here, with an orc.

Ernaut quickly downed his goblet of wine, lowering his inhibitions bit by bit. "You know when you pulled at your axe... that pull would have worked on most people. But only a fool tries to fight the power of an orc who is dedicated to taking your weapon."

Lorak grinned. "Yes, only fools would fight against orcs..."

Ernaut laughed, spilling some of his wine to the ground as he shifted in his seat. "That's not what I meant, still, I kicked your ass even though you 'won'."

Lorak sighed. The human was right. "So, where did you learn to use a great axe?"

Ernaut giggled. "I don't have any prior experience with that type of weapon, if that's what you mean. But it had a long haft, and I am better with the quarterstaff or the spear than I am with a sword. I didn't think you would be able to use the sword and buckler together efficiently, that you'd sooner tie up your hands with the buckler than use it efficiently, so I thought a switch in weapons would make the fight more interesting." Ernaut sighed. "Didn't work like that though, did it."