Random Encounters: Orc Warband

"You were cursed by a faerie?"

He nodded, "She say, 'think about what you've done' and-" he snapped fingers, "I think. I thought and realized I've done bad. Other orcs have done bad. So no more. I did a big think and now I teach my warband how to do less bad. Start doing goods. Stopped asking how fight best, instead wonder why fight best. Now we try to learn, make friends, maybe undo some past bads."

"Wow," she replied. "So how did you learn to speak Feliseian?"

"Moons ago, we found a singing elf on the road. Very brave, didn't run. Like you."

She was taken aback. She'd been called many things, but brave was never one of them.

He continued, "They stay with us. Teach us your language. Some customs. I still can't knock right. Your door watcher was mad with me." He looked distraught.

"Well, you're new to knocking. I'm sure you'll get it. And you're Feliseian is very good for only speaking it a few months."

He lit up again. "Thank you! So many more extra words to use. Orc speak is very to the point. I try though. You are very kind Giroflée the Ale-Bringer."

She smiled. "Thank you, Rogmugh The Skull Crusher." She felt silly having said that out loud. The reality that she was having a pleasant conversation with an orc war leader was setting in. It was quickly becoming clear the village wasn't in danger, though the tavern probably wouldn't make it through their invasion unscathed.

He took a big swig from his cask, draining its contents. He wiped his mouth and looked down at Giroflée.

"So, how long have you been ruler of this booze house?"

"The tavern? Oh, I don't own it. I just work here."

"But you are the only one here?"

"No, my boss is here. He's hiding in the cellar."

"So then this is your booze house- er, tavern by right of conquest. Or shouldn't your war chief award it to you for bravery?"

"Haha, I wish. No, it doesn't work like that."

"That seems unfair."

"I'm a tavern wench. I don't have a fancy title so I can't do any conquests or get recognized for bravery." She took a bitter swig from her mug.

"I titled you. You are the Ale-Bringer."

She smiled. "Thank you, but I don't think it'll change anything. I'll probably be stuck here forever." Her words hit her harder than she expected them to.

"This seems to make you unhappy."

"Yeah, well, what can you do?"

"Leave."

"I can't just leave. I need the money."

"For what? You already have the ale."

She laughed and then noticed that Rogmug looked embarrassed. "Oh, sorry. You know. For food, shelter, clothes."

"Food is everywhere. Shelter can be made with sticks and stones. Clothes can be made from the parts of the food that aren't food!"

"I can't just leave."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how to do those things."

"It not so hard. I can show you," he said with excitement.

"It's just... a little more complicated than all that."

"You are afraid."

"Well, yeah!" She took another big gulp of her drink.

"Be afraid but do it anyway. You were already scared once today, why not be scared again. After a while you stop being scared. You are strong."

She choked on her drink. "No I'm not. Do I look like any of you?" she asked, flexing her arm.

Rogmug shook his head. "Strength comes from here." He pushed his finger against her chest.

"My tits?"

"No no, heart! The heart pumps courage though the body. And blood! Blood makes the muscles big. I think. I wasn't really paying attention to elf that day. But it sounded nice. So, heart is strongest. And you have strong heart. No other humans drinking with us orcs tonight! So, you have strongest heart." He nodded, satisfied with his flawless logic.

Giroflée blushed. "Well, you were all very scary at first. But, this is actually really nice. I- I kind of needed this."

Rogmug nodded and stroked his stubbly chin. "We try to be less scary, but it hard. We always try to speak first. Use the fancy words elf taught us. But none listen. Well, some listen." He smiled at her. "We try with actions now. Elf friend once say actions louder than words. I can yell really loud but that usually makes it worse. How can actions be loud if we're not smashing or thrashing?" He hunched over and let out a long defeated sigh. "I trust elf friend's words, though."

She never thought she'd be taking pity on an orc. Cautiously, she moved her hand to his back, giving him a comforting pat. It was like petting a mass of steel. "I'm sure if you keep it up things will change. I was scared at first, but you seem kind. Intimidating, but kind."

He turned to her, his eyes glistening. "You are a good human Giroflée Ale-Bringer. Unlike many stabbing me with dagger or sword you stab me with kindness."

"Oh my gods, you're bleeding!"

He looked at the wound in his arm, which had made a small puddle of blood on the floor.

"Is fine. Ale will heal it."

"No, ale won't! Let me take a look at it. It needs to be cleaned before it festers."

She stood up and tried pulling him out of his chair with no chance of success. He slowly stood, a little shaky, having finished a whole cask. "Common, there are some tubs upstairs. I'll run a bath for you and see if I can find some healing supplies." She led him away from the table and towards the stairs leading to the upper level of the tavern. "Just up there. Take whatever room suits you. I'll put on some water and be up in a moment."

"Thank you," he replied. He climbed the stairs, each bowing under his weight, and took the first room on the right.

She grabbed a bucket and went back outside to fetch some water for the bath but stopped short at the rain barrel.

"Saleté!"

He jumped, spooking the horse he was unhitching.

"Shh! Shh!" he hissed between her and the horse.

"Did you come back to save me? You don't need to worry they're actually-" she trailed off, noticing his belongings saddled to the horse. She crossed her arms,

"Ah."

"No no no! I was just about to burst in and sweep you away! I swear it by all the gods." He was still swaying with drunkenness. "I'm just so so glad to see you managed to escape."

"You were going to fight a warband of orcs, were you?"

"Of course! And hey, now that you're here you should come with me."

"Why does that sound like an afterthought?"

"Oh babe. Babe! You got it all wrong. You're overworked and scared for your life. Common, get on the horse and let's get out of here."

"You're not listening. They're fine. I'm actually-"

"Suit yourself. I tried being the hero. This is why they say chivalry is dead, you know." In rapid succession, he mounted the horse, fell over the opposite side, and faceplanted in the mud, where he then pissed himself and passed out.

She stared at him for a moment. "Is this really what I'm scared of losing?" She let out a long sigh and, with her foot, pushed his face out of the muck so he wouldn't drown. She looked around at the town. There were a few people cautiously spying the tavern from their windows, but none dared leave their homes, let alone approach.

She filled a bucket with water and hauled it back inside.

***

"There we go," she said, pouring the last of the boiling water into the wooden tub.

"Now it's still a little hot so give it a few minutes before-"

Rogmug was naked.

She quickly averted her gaze as he made his way past. She mostly avoided her gaze. A quick peek. She spied a hint of his solid rear as he lowered himself into the scalding water.

"Mmmm," he moaned, closing his eyes and sinking deeper.

"Here, let's get that arm stitched up." She strained to lift his relaxed arm onto the side of the tub. "Shit, this looks bad. There's all kinds of filth in the wound. Hold on." She retrieved a nearby bottle of dwarven spirits. She poured a generous amount on a clean scrap of cloth and handed Rogmug the bottle. "Drink up, this next part won't feel great."

"Heh, maybe for a human but-"

He muffled a yelp as she dabbed the cloth inside his wound. It took several minutes before it was thoroughly cleaned. It took several more minutes to stitch as the needles kept breaking against his skin.

"There," she said, inspecting the wound closely, "that should avoid any infections and heal up nicely."

"No one told me healing magic was so painful." He unclenched his fist and released a relieved sigh.

She chuckled. "That wasn't magic. Just something mom and dad taught me. They were battle medics in the Felis Wars."

"Healer and warrior both?" Rogmug looked at her in awe. "I would like to meet them!"

She frowned and sullenly shook her head.

"Ah, death in glorious battle."

"They were killed in an ambush. And the Felis still control the North. Nothing glorious about it." She sighed. "They're gone and died for nothing."

"You are not nothing."

"What?"

"You are not nothing. Their glory lives on through you." He stood up and put his massive hand on her shoulder. "You have their healing magic and warrior spirit. You honor them, as I honor my forebears by crushing my enemies skulls. I just try make less enemies now."

She smiled. "Well, again, it's not magic. And I'd hardly say I have a warrior's spirit."

"You drank with the big scary orcs."

"You're not so scary," she said with a smirk.

"Oh no?" He raised his arms and flexed every muscle in his body. Every single part of him bulged with masculine energy. His broad shoulders. His perfectly cut slabs of pecks. His rock-hard abs. His massive cock.

"Oh gods," she yelped, backing away, realizing that thing was eye level with her this entire time.

"Hahaha! The ale bringer jests! You're not actually scared!" he said, placing his hands on his hips, drawing further attention to the beast.

"No, no, just, heh, sit back down. I'll wash your back."

He gave a self-satisfied grunt and slipped back into the tub as she fetched the soap from a footlocker at the foot of the bath. She made her way behind him and worked up a lather. She rubbed soap on his beefy traps and over his shoulders. They were rock hard and full of knots. With great effort, she dug her thumb in and worked out a few of them.

"Ohhhhh!" said Rogmug with a twitch. "More healing magic! This feels good!"

"Well, I'd guess that smashing doors and getting stabbed gets you quite tense. Just relax." She liked the way her soapy hands slid over his taut skin. It was rough and covered in scars but didn't feel coarse like she'd expected. She pushed her elbow into his back and became the first person to make an orc purr like a cat.

"Rogmug, you said earlier that you could show me how to... survive. Out there."

"Mmmm."

"What exactly did you mean?"

"Travel with us!" He said, his voice brimming with excitement. "Like elf friend once did! We show you everything you need to do."

"I won't be slowing you down? Or in the way?" She rested her elbows on his shoulder and leaned forward to see his face.

"Haha, we are always in the way! That's what make travel fun. And maybe while you're in the way we learn from you too! Oh! You could teach healing and sex magic."

"Again it's not magic and- wait sex magic?"

He pointed to the tip of his erect cock, which was now poking out just above the sudsy water. "How did you make it do that? We not even locked in battle."

Giroflée's face went bright red. "Oh, wow, that's- something. Gods, it's- umm. Ha, uh, wow."

Rogmug waited patiently for her to gather herself.

She continued through bashful giggling, "I guess you're not used to being touched like this. It- it isn't magic. Just a little massage. Just a little light rubbing."

"Oh! So I can do this?"

"Well yeah? It's not- Gah!"

He grabbed her and flipped her into the tub. Thankfully the water had time to cool and was the perfect temperature. It was disorienting but not painful. He positioned her on his pelvis, her back to his broad chest. He carefully lined up his thumbs with her shoulder blades.

"I meant later," she laughed, lifting her soaked sleeves above the water.

"Oh! Sorry. I got excited."

"Well, I was in bad need of a bath but I'd like to have taken my clothes off first."

"Oh, go ahead."

The room felt quiet, only the ambient noise of revelry below and the clam rippling of the bath water. She froze and looked back at him. Her heart beat against her chest. His eyes were soft and compassionate. They stood in stark contrast to his stubbly and grizzled face. Not filled with lust but a concern for her comfort. A strange thought struck her. Why wasn't she scared? On the contrary, looking into his eyes, she felt a sense of safety.

"Alright," she said softly.

She slipped the overdress off her shoulders and undid the binding laces. Her hands trembled, not with fear but a nervous excitement. She pushed it down her legs and let it float to the surface. She hiked up her chemise to her waist and looked back at Rogmug.

"Give me a hand?" She lifted her arms into the air and closed her eyes.

There was a ripping sound followed by a breezy feeling.

"Got it," said Rogmug, holding two pieces of her one-piece chemise. He noticed her wide eyes and looked between the shreds. "Is this- is this not two pieces?"

"It is now," she laughed, covering her breasts with her arm.

Rogmug let out a sigh of relief.

"It's fine, I always hated that thing. It reeked of this tavern."

He reached over her, grabbed the overdress, and tossed it, along with the tattered chemise, onto the floor. He straightened himself and her and then pressed his thumbs against her shoulder blades.

"Be gentle."

"Mmm, mmm."

He carefully began massaging her, attempting to repeat the patterns she'd done to him. He was better at it than she'd expected. His thick thumbs were effective at finding her knots and working through them instantly. She moaned and cooed each time a particularly painful or stiff one was relieved.

"Ohh, you're actually quite good at this," she said, closing her eyes and sinking deeper into the water.

"If orcs good at one things it's physical things," he said proudly.

She continued to slip deeper into the water but stopped as something hard pressed against her crotch. She opened her eyes. His cock was still erect and was preventing her from slipping further. It twitched against her, and she let out a stifled moan.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No no, it just felt a little better than I expected."

She wanted to move away from it but wasn't sure how. She planted her hand on his abs and tried to push herself back up. She slipped and slid back into it. It throbbed against her again.

"Mmm," moaned Rogmug.

She stared at the beast in front of her as the one behind her rubbed her back. As curiosity overtook bashfulness, she gave it a good look. It was easily the biggest she'd ever seen. She wondered if it was as hard as the rest of his body. It twitched again, pressing against her clit. It was indeed as hard as him. Her head was swimming between the rubbing, throbbing, and hot bath.

"Rogmug," she started, "do you find me," feeling her heart leap into her throat, she paused, "pleasing?" She pushed herself a little harder against his cocking, feeling his pulse through it. She felt as though what she was doing was wrong, and her heart beat faster.

"You have been most welcoming to me and mine," he said in a low growly voice. "You healed my wounds and taught me this muscle magic. You are a very good human Giroflée Ale-Bringer" He stopped rubbing her. "Did I do well? No hurting?"

"You did very well." She found her footing and managed to push herself up, giving Rogmug a full view of her backside. Slowly, she turned to face him, covering her breasts with her arm and her sex with her hand. He looked relaxed and powerful with his arms stretched on either side of the tub. She looked away. "What I mean to say is," she let her hands fall to her side and looked him in the eye, "do you find me pleasing."

His eyes went wide as the subtlety of her unsubtle question dawned on him. Bashfully he looked away. "You are very pleasing!" he blurted out. "Very much so."

"Then why are you looking away?"

"Elf said staring is rude."

"I want you to see me."

He took in the sight of her and gulped. "I want to speak the never says."

She sunk back into the water and crawled atop his chest, her face stopping just shy of his. Her heart raced faster as the distance between their lips closed. She pressed her lips to his and planted a soft kiss upon him. He let out a primal growl as she pulled back.

"W-what," he said, breathing heavily, "what kind of magic is that?"

"A kiss? Have- is that your first kiss?"

He nodded.

She kissed him again. He kissed back this time. He was a fast learner. She felt something rocking next to her. Glazing behind, she could see him stroking his cock.

"I can do that for you, if you'd like," she whispered against his lips.

He responded with another growl.

His beastly response created a surge of longing in her core. She kissed down his neck and over his steel pecks until she could comfortably reach his cock. She wrapped her fingers around it, barely able to reach all the way around. She kissed his chest as she stroked up and down the length of his shaft.

"Let me know when you're-"

Suddenly his hand was on her back. He pulled her in close, his hips thrust forward as he let out a mighty roar. His cock pulsed as several thick shots of cum spurt out. Some landing in the water with a wet smack, while others flew far away from the tub.

"Many hells," she murmured, shocked by the sheer volume. She felt a tinge of disappointment and relief seeing the orc finish so spectacularly. What had she been thinking, coupling with an orc? She decided perhaps it best that this is as far as their adventure takes them.

Rogmug sighed, "I ruined our bath." He lifted her out of the bath and threw her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing. He carried her to a guest bed across the room, giving her ass a playful slap along the way before laying her down. His cock was still hard and twitching.

"You can go again?" she asked with a hopeful grin, her disappointment and relief turning back into taboo excitement.

He crawled onto the bed, causing the legs to break and the bed to slam into the floor. Yet, he seemed focused on her and unbothered by the destruction.

She let out an excited and nervous laugh.

He cupped her butt and lifted her to his mouth. His tongue lapped up and down her slit, parting her lips and tickling her clit with every lick. She gripped the sheets and let out a sharp gasp. His tongue ventured further south to her back entrance. The intensity of the new sensation and lewd sounds coming from between her legs caused her to clench her thighs around his head. He growled against her.

He placed his hand under her back and swooped her up, pressing her wet cunt into his face. She gripped his head and rode him while feeling light as a feather. He let out a gruff chuckle at her newfound enthusiasm. His tongue pressed hard against her clit, sending a sharp jolt down her spine.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned loudly, losing her balance.

He laid her back down on the bed and freed himself from her grasp with ease.

She was dripping wet and ready to accept all of him. She wanted to feel his cock fill her. She looked up at the hulking brute crawling atop her. She pressed his hands against her abs, feeling each ripple and crevasse with delight. Her cunt ached for him more by the second.

His massive cock slapped down against her belly. It twitched as a steady flow of precum dripped from it.

"Oh fuck," she said, staring it down. Maybe not all of him, she thought. "Be gentle."

He gripped his cock and pressed it against her wetness, parting her lips and rubbing it between her entrance and her clit. His other hand pressed against her supple breast as he thumbed over her erect nipple. Her hips squirmed on their own, beckoning his cock to enter.