Orc Harem Ch. 01

Welcome to Stakaria, a fantasy kingdom that has progressed into the modern age. It is a land where humans live beside elves, dwarves, and orcs. It is a time when jets take to the skies alongside dragons and griffins. The age of knights, rogues, and wizards has passed. But some ancient traditions have yet to fade away.

Follow Adam Casterman, the fourth son of an old and respected noble house, as he becomes the center of a daring plot devised by his beautiful orcish girlfriend to secure her clan's future.

This is Orc Harem. A sexy and lewd fantasy serial for the red-blooded fellow.

All characters involved are 18+.

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Prologue

The Chieftain had passed in his sleep. That was the news Hera had awoken to on that sunny morning. The clan matriarch remembered seeing an eagle fly overhead as she left her tent, that majestic bird soaring against the cloudless blue sky. Maybe it had been an omen. Or maybe the gods had decided to be funny.

It was young Jenakka who found him, coming upon the old orc laying cold and still in his private chambers. The clan scholar hadn't seemed too devastated by Jarek's passing. In fact, none of the girls mourned much over their late Chieftain.

Hera wasn't surprised. The girls may have been of Clan G'Kalis, but they were not of Jarek's blood. Jenakka, Sayla, and Druma - those three weren't his daughters, not truly, and the old orc had taken every chance to remind them of that.

Looking back, Chieftain Jarek hadn't been particularly close with anyone in their small clan. Not with his wives - now widows - nor with the young women Clan G'Kalis had taken in. Hells below, Jarek hadn't even been a decent chieftain, let alone a father.

It didn't feel right to Hera, thinking so poorly of the dead orc. But it was the truth. The best thing she could say about Jarek was that at least he didn't drive their clan to ruin. Not entirely, anyway.

The next best thing about the old man was that at least he hadn't sent the girls away when they came of age. But Hera wondered if that might have been self-serving of him - If he had thrown them out of the clan, it would just leave him, Mystic Akari, and Hera herself. All of the duties and chores he had delegated to the girls would have fallen back to him again.

Putting his mediocrity aside, Jarek had been a chieftain. Their chieftain. Whatever his clan felt about him - or didn't feel about him - they still owed his honored title some measure of respect.

And so Chieftain Jarek G'Kalis was buried on that same night. The full rites and honors were performed over the burial as befitting his position. Hera presided over the ceremony, as expected of the clan matriarch. And Akari, as the clan mystic, sang the sacred chants of passing. Druma, the clan historian, filed away the records of Jarek's deeds as Chieftain. It was a short list.

That had been a week ago. The clan "mourned", cleaned out his room, distributed his more useful belongings among themselves, sold what they could, and burned the rest. Then it was back to business as usual. Their homestead could't maintain itself, after all.

But Hera and Akari both knew that their clan now had a very pressing issue that needed to be addressed. Jarek was dead. Which left Clan G'Kalis without a chieftain. And an orc clan without a chieftain was no clan at all.

There were more than a few clan matriarchs who disagreed with that statement - Hera herself, for one - but there were an even greater number of chieftains who didn't. They were warchiefs and battlemasters, men who had the strength to enforce their will and the followers to back them up.

Hera and her clan could fight them, sure. But as much as it pained her to admit it, it was a fight they couldn't win. If Clan G'Kalis was to survive, they needed a new chieftain.

The real question was: who?

So that evening, a week after they buried Jarek, Hera gathered everyone into the dining hall of the main house. The entirety of Clan G'Kalis in one room. A century ago that would have been impossible, the matriarch thought bitterly.

There were five in total. Hera, the matriarch. Akari, the mystic. Sayla, the champion. Druma, the historian and scribe. And Jenakka, the scholar. They were Clan G'Kalis. Five orc women sitting in a room, discussing their future.

Hera sat at the head of the table. Akari was to her immediate right and sitting next to her was Druma. On Hera's left were Sayla and Jenakka. The clan matriarch looked at each of them, drumming her fingers against the dark oak table. The eldest of the clan inhaled deeply through her nose, letting out a sigh as she leaned forward, clasping her hands together.

"I know that this last week hasn't been easy." Hera started. "Akari and I are well aware of how difficult it is dealing with an uncertain future."

"Our chieftain has passed on. If we are to survive as a clan, we must find a replacement." Akari added. The mystic leaned back in her seat, her amber eyes falling upon Sayla and Jenakka across from her. "But I don't need to tell you that. You girls were paying attention during my lessons, I hope?"

This was one of the few occasions where Akari had gone without the white clan markings that normally covered her face, arms and body. And with her long, black hair now tied back into a tight bun, the clan mystic looked like an entirely different woman. Hells below, Hera thought her clan-sister looked almost normal. The only things that betrayed the woman's role as clan mystic were her piercings. The rubies hanging from her ears and the ring of silver through her septum.

"At least one of us was, Mystic Akari." Druma cut in.

"Suck up." Sayla sneered.

"Quiet." Jenakka's words came clear and cutting. She gave both of her clan-sisters a pointed look. Then she nodded towards Hera. "Please continue, Matriarch."

The eldest sent her adopted daughter a small grin and returned her nod.

"I'll just get right to the point. We have eighteen months to find our clan a new chieftain." Hera spoke plainly. She clicked her teeth together, letting the words sink in among the rest of the clan. "If we fail to do so, orcish law dictates that we either be absorbed by a larger clan or dissolve entirely. Either way, Clan G'Kalis will cease to be. This cannot come to pass."

"Eighteen months to save this clan." Akari repeated, hammering it home. "A little less than that, actually. Considering we spent the last week in mourning."

Sayla scoffed loudly. The clan champion spun a small dagger in one hand, glowering at the mere idea that she'd mourn Jarek.

The eldest of their three adopted daughters at twenty-two summers, Sayla was every inch an orc fighter. Tall, swift, and well-muscled for an orc woman, she cut her black hair short like clan champions were expected to. She had pale gray skin, while the rest of Clan G'Kalis were all some shade of green. Black tattoos coiled up the length of both of her firm, corded arms. They were markings of memory, respect given to warriors past. A single look from her piercing red eyes could send lesser men fleeing in fear. Sayla may not have been Hera's blood-daughter but she was the pride of Clan G'Kalis all the same.

But Jarek hadn't seen it that way. The old orc had wanted a son, a strong boy who could take up the ancestral blade of G'Kalis and bring honor to his name and kin. Failing that, Jarek had wanted a child of his own blood to carry on the clan's legacy. Sayla was neither. Jarek never recognized Sayla as clan champion. Nor did he ever bestow her with the clan's ancestral blade. And for that, Sayla had never forgiven him.

The grievances Sayla held were understandable. So for once, Hera let the disrespect slide.

"Five hundred and thirty days." Hera continued, looking from one woman to the next. "That's how long we have before our wandering period is up."

Beside her, Akari nodded. "That may sound like plenty of time, girls. But those days will pass quicker than you think. So let us try and approach this problem with a sense of urgency, yes?"

"I trust the daughters of Clan G'Kalis have taken some initiative on the matter. Akari and I are open to any and all suggestions you three might have." Hera crossed her arms, her gray eyes falling pointedly upon the clan historian, Druma.

The youngest of Clan G'Kalis at the ripe age of nineteen, Druma was untempered and untested. Fresh-faced and wide-eyed, she lacked the rough nature and determination of her clan-sisters. Her hair was a dark green and longer than Sayla's, reaching down to her shoulders. Admittedly, she was prettier than she was fierce, with smooth skin, plump lips, full cheeks, and big, brown eyes that glimmered in the light. But what she lacked in martial prowess and orcish vigor, she made up for with her sharp mind.

It was only natural to assume that Druma would have at least a couple of ideas. And from the look Hera saw on the young lass' face, she had been correct.

"I have one, Matriarch Heralda." Druma said, her brown eyes alight with excitement.

Druma's eyes danced, jumping from orc to orc. The girl was nervous but also thrilled to put her knowledge to use in service to the clan. Smiling proudly - a favored look for an orc to have - the historian sat up straight and cleared her throat. She reached down beside her seat and produced a thick, tan folder filled with sheets of paper. She set it upon the table, shifting in her chair as all eyes fell upon her.

"Even though we were supposed to be in mourning, I took the time to compile a list of potential replacements for Chieftain Jarek." Druma explained, tucking a lock of dark green hair behind her ear. She bit her lower lip sheepishly, looking towards Akari and Hera. "I apologize if this was too forward of me."

"You took initiative in service to the clan." Hera said plainly, wearing a small grin.

"Any true orc would have done the same." Akari added firmly.

Druma beamed at them both, but the moment of pride was short-lived. Sayla reached across the table and flung the folder open, sending the stapled dossiers sliding across the dark oak. What must have taken quite a bit for Druma to organize was now a mess upon their dining room table.

"So who made it onto your list, clan-sister?" Sayla asked as she aimlessly rifled through the pile of potential chieftains. All the while, Druma glowered silently at her adopted sibling. If Sayla noticed Druma's frustration, she didn't show it.

The clan champion plucked one of the dossiers from the pile and inspected it closer. She observed the black and white photo, carefully reading the name... And that was all she needed to know before scoffing with disgust and tossing the dossier back into the pile.

Druma grabbed the same dossier, checking it for herself.

"Zorr To'Kalos, age twenty-seven, first son of Battlemaster Torrak To'Kalos." Druma read aloud, furrowing her brow. She shot a look towards Sayla, her face twisted in confusion. "What's wrong with him? He's an ideal candidate!"

"Hmm," The name sounded familiar to Hera. She gestured for Druma to hand the dossier over. The youngest obeyed and so the clan matriarch inspected it herself. Sure enough, the face in the photo was one she recognized. "I met Zorr when he was a pup. He was healthy, strong for his age. And he comes from a respected clan. And from what I can read here, it seems he would be a decent choice for chieftain. But it appears Sayla disagrees."

"You met him when he was a boy. I met him when he was a man. And I use that term loosely." Sayla muttered, crossing her arms.

"And when did this meeting happen?" Hera questioned the champion, her eyes narrowing. She gave her adopted daughter a cold, hard stare. At the very least, Sayla had the decency to look contrite.

The clan champion sank slightly into her seat, her firm shoulders slumping under the matriarch's piercing gaze.

"It was two years ago, when I was sent to train under Battlemaster Gorash. The man took many pupils. The To'Kalos boy had been one of them." Sayla explained. Her face twisted into a sneer next. "The fool thought he could claim me as a wife. He issued a challenge for my maidenhead. I accepted. He lost. I doubt he's improved much since then."

Akari let out a loud guffaw, startling the rest of the women at the table. The mystic slammed a fist down on the dark oak, laughing heartily. Druma joined a moment later, though her chortles were softer, quieter.

"A To'Kalos losing to a G'Kalis? Ha!" Akari looked positively joyful, Hera noted. A rare look for her clan-sister to have. "You made his ancestors weep that day, lass!"

Hera found Akari's delight to be contagious. Soon enough, the matriarch herself was grinning at the thought of Sayla standing victorious over some fat headed orc pup. And she too felt a measure of pride for her clan-daughter's triumph.

"I don't suppose he took his loss very well." Hera presumed.

"Let's just say that making him our chieftain would be unwise." Sayla snorted disdainfully.

The gathered orcs all nodded in agreement. Druma tossed the To'Kalos dossier over to the far end of the table, away from the rest of the pile.

"Alright." The clan historian sighed. "So that's a 'no' on Zorr To'Kalos. Why didn't you tell me you'd met him before, Sayla?"

"He wasn't worth mentioning." The champion answered plainly.

Akari took the opportunity to pluck another dossier from the pile. She scanned the first page, inspecting the black and white photo of yet another prospective chieftain. Quickly, her face twisted into a grimace.

"Hmph. I wouldn't recommend this one, either." She said, waving the dossier in her hand. She turned it to show the Hera and the others the photo of a particularly angry-looking orc. The man had pronounced tusks, larger than those of any woman seated at the table, and wild, furious red eyes. His black hair, despite being styled into a series of braids, looked frayed and unkempt. "Goraht Brukulo is more beast than orc. His clan is powerful, sure, but not by his own doing. I've met the man. He couldn't lead anyone out of a room with one door. He has no respect for our history, no respect for orcish traditions. He cares more about gold than honor and dignity."

Akari tossed the dossier to the other end of the table, giving To'Kalos some company. Hera gave her clan-sister a small grin. Sayla and Jenakka had a small laugh. Druma, however, sank sheepishly into her seat.

"He seemed like a decent choice when I read about him..." Druma muttered, crossing her arms.

"Plenty of men seem decent on paper, girl." Akari assured the clan's youngest. She placed a gentle hand on Druma's shoulder. "It's difficult to get the measure of a man through printed words. Your list was a good idea. It's not your fault the orc bloodlines are lacking these days."

"So what about new blood?" Jenakka asked. The middle daughter of G'Kalis was tall and fit like Sayla, but also lithe and slender like Druma. Her skin was a rich, vibrant green and she wore her red hair long, tying it into a single braid falling to the small of her back.

The others turned their eyes on the middle daughter of G'Kalis. A moment of silence fell over the table as the implication of her words settled in their minds.

"What do you mean by 'new blood'?" Hera pressed, leaning forward some as she clasped her hands together over the table. The clan matriarch had a good idea of what Jenakka meant, but still she wanted the girl to say it aloud.

"I meant exactly what I said, Matriarch Heralda." Jenakka said. She met her adopted mother's gaze, blue eyes meeting gray. "New blood. Fresh blood. This might sound drastic, but... Maybe we shouldn't choose an orc from Druma's list. Maybe we shouldn't choose an orc at all."

Like a switch had been flipped, the atmosphere in the dining hall changed. Druma gave a small gasp, her hands coming up to her mouth. Akari recoiled slightly as if she had been struck, her face twisted in confusion. Sayla in particular looked dumbfounded by her clan-sister's suggestion. Only Hera herself kept calm, her face betraying no emotion. She simply stared at the middle child of G'Kalis, silently contemplating the girl's words.

Jenakka sat up straight, unashamed and unafraid. It was as Hera expected of her. Where Sayla was tall and strong and Druma was bright and learned, Jenakka fell somewhere in between. On some days she would train with blade and club alongside the clan champion. On other days she would spend hours reading and learning alongside Druma. She had the bravery of a fighter combined with the wisdom of a sharp mind. That was why Jenakka was the clan scholar, raised to go out and learn from the outside world for the benefit of her clan. But Jarek's death had put a hold on those plans.

"You're right. That does sound drastic." Akari spoke first. She gave Jenakka a pointed look. "An orc chieftain that isn't an orc? Not only is that preposterous, it would make Clan G'Kalis an even bigger target than we are already!"

"It's probably heretical, too. Just putting that out there." Sayla added dryly, tapping the hilt of her dagger against the table.

"Is it?" Jenakka shot back, glaring. She then turned her eyes from Sayla to the clan mystic. "Aunt Akari, I know our traditions are your heart and soul. But as the clan scholar, I've done some reading of my own. There's nothing in our scriptures of law that says our chieftain must be an orc. Only that he must be a man."

"She's right..." Druma whispered then. Suddenly all eyes were on her again. The clan historian sat stiff in her seat, the sudden attention coming as a shock. Nervously, Druma rubbed her arm. "Well... I'm sure our forefathers believed their intent was clear, that it was implicit that their laws applied to orcs and only orcs. But here, now in the modern day... Following their scripture to the letter might actually give us some wiggle room."

Sayla scoffed loudly, giving Druma an incredulous look.

"So, what? Is our next chieftain going to be some dwarf? Some pretty elf boy? You can't be serious." The champion's words were heated and bitter.

"Quiet." Hera ordered. And so Sayla fell silent, frowning - pouting, more like. "Jenakka, continue."

The clan scholar nodded.

"Before he died, Jarek approved my leave to attend university..." Jenakka started to explain.

"At that Stakari college, yes. Few orcs in that city. Plenty of humans, though." Hera finished for her. The clan matriarch blinked as she had a moment of realization. She stared at Jenakka, wide-eyed. "You mean for us to accept a human chieftain?"

Sayla snorted but said nothing. Druma again gave a small gasp. But Akari shared a reaction with Hera. One of contemplation, consideration. The two clan elders adopted thoughtful expressions. Akari pursed her lips, humming.

"That's... Not unheard of." The clan mystic said after a moment.

"What, really?" Sayla looked and sounded astonished, stunned by her elders' pointedly calm response to her clan-sister's drastic plan.

"Not human chieftains, exactly." Akari continued on, looking off into the air with a pondering look about her face. "But there have been several instances in Stakari history of human nobles taking orc women as wives and mistresses. Some of them had even been G'Kalis women."

"The Kingdom of Stakaris has always been more welcoming to orc clans than most human nations." Druma added. "That's why our clan settled here during the Great Exodus. The Stakari had many things in common with our people. Even polygamy."

"Which is still practiced among the Stakari, even today." Jenakka said, looking expectantly at Hera. "It is as Druma said, Matriarch. Orcs and humans are compatible. And a Stakari human male would make a suitable substitute in place of an orc. Better than an elf, at least."