Roderick and Gorlana Pt. 04

She took a long stare at the Goathorn chair, lifting her chest high with purpose, then finally turned to the center of the hall and the open space where they would battle.

Wulva paced impatiently, watching them lay out the line of weapons they would choose from. At Gorlana's signal that she was ready, Wulva moved and without hesitation picked out two curved Rechlinger-style swords, spinning them expertly in each hand.

She gestured with a deadly flourish at Roderick in the back corner and said, "I will win your human pet as well. Perhaps after I reclaim my mate I will toy with him too, and let him taste a real woman's prowess before he dies."

Gorlana, facing the row of weapons, pinned her ears back and let out a low snarl, a new instinctual flow of furious protective vigour pouring into her. She paused stiffly for a moment and, thinking of Roderick, picked out the longest weapon in front of her. There were no spears, that was not a weapon of honour in Orcish tradition, but the long-handled war-axe with a pointed tip, could be used in a similar fashion.

She picked it up, lifting it overtop of her her head and spinning it to get the feel and balance, then brought the hilt down to her foot, holding the length in front of her, feeling satisfied enough. Wulva and a few others laughed in cackling mockery, the choice of the long heavy axe making little sense in their eyes being larger and slower to swing against her spinning swords. Gorlana ignored them, and simply nodded to herself and stepped back into the circle. If this bitch thinks my touch of human blood repulsive, then she can try a taste of human-style tactics as well.

The drum began to sound. All the voices in Orthanhall faded to silence.

"Talbidagar!" Varrhag intoned with a grim almost regretful bellow, she thought.

"Talbidagar!" the rest replied, the echo ringing out against the old stone walls.

The drum sped up until one last loud thud reverberated through the air.

Wulva expelled a wet snarl and sprang forward on quick feet. Her swords spun in her deft hands with a deadly speed as she flew towards Gorlana.

Gorlana lifted the axe as if to swing it down - too slow and late if she did - but suddenly spun it vertically next to herself and pushed to extend the sharp length out against Wulva's charge. The Rechlinger woman had to twist to the side to avoid her shoulder being skewered, but still suffered a long cut against her side from the axe-blade. Her hands moved with slick speed to bring her spinning swords down to slide along the shaft towards Gorlana's fingers. Gorlana let go as the blade scraped past, then kicked the haft up again to catch it. Just as Wulva's momentum stopped on a dime behind her, Gorlana, again instead of swinging, used the blunt handle as a pole, shooting it backwards and stopping Wulva's leap with a thud to her stomach.

The Rechlinger flopped backwards and seethed in angry surprise, but quickly regained her footing and her grip on her swords. She flipped them in a dizzying flourish as Gorlana simply set her feet and brought the sharp crescent of the axe in front of her again. Wulva attacked immediately as Gorlana tried to focus on her body rather than her blurring swords. She spun the axe, meeting the blades with hers but Wulva's reach suddenly extended longer than she expected, and she only barely saved her finger from being sliced off, luckily suffering only a small bleeding cut.

Gorlana gave a low growl and set herself again, axe-blade behind herself ready to swing. Wulva's whirling body jumped up in an acrobatic flurry of blades. Gorlana again did not swing the axe around, but this time shot the blunt end straight forward and braced the sharp tip against her boot. She held the shaft strongly against the slicing sword which glanced off of it, and kept it aimed like a pole-arm to collide against Wulva's flying torso. She held the axe from moving with her boot, and the Rechlinger grunted painfully, and flailed as her chest absorbed her suddenly halted momentum, then fell to the floor. Now Gorlana swung the axe truly in a long heavy horizontal arc, low to the ground. Wulva was only saved by another acrobatic leap, now more desperate, flipping over Gorlana's swing, losing a large lock of hair from it, but landing on her feet. She let out a hoarse cough, rubbed her chest, and sucked in painful breath before spitting towards Gorlana.

"Craven wench refuses to approach me!" she taunted, as she gripped her swords again. "Do you dare not come closer?"

Gorlana waited for her to attack again, but Wulva only paced sideways, studying her now. She faked an attack, with a sudden step forward and the start of a swing, making the Rechlinger woman flinch, who then turned her defensive swing into another spinning flourish, with a snarl of rage covering her embarrassment. Gorlana quickly attacked in earnest with a spin of the axe clanging off a sword, continuing the heavy axe's momentum into a longer-reaching arc that brought the axe into the floor, narrowly missing Wulva's boots as she jumped away. The loud clang on the floor echoed, followed by a scrape as she retracted the long handle, just in time to slice the blade across Wulva's counter-attacking sword as she had leaped at her again. Another near miss of her other sword next to Gorlana's fingers and their momentum threw them apart again, but not before Wulva landed a kick against Gorlana's chest.

Each was breathing hard and focusing harder, with a deadly intensity. Wulva waited again though, strutting to the side as she twirled her blades again.

She gave Gorlana a mocking smirk, "You fight like a huma-"

The axe shot forward like a spear and only Wulva's already spinning sword saved her by a quick instinctual turn, still glancing over her shoulder and knocking her back and to the side. Gorlana tried to swing the axe towards her while extended, but realized her miscalculation too late as the other woman spun too quickly and came up to grasp the shaft under her arm, just in front of the axe-blade. Gorlana pulled back on instinct but pulled Wulva towards her and she desperately let go with one hand to stop her lethal sword swing by catching her hand.

They hung in straining suspension, evenly matched in strength as Gorlana held Wulva's sword hand from lowering, and she held Gorlana's axe shaft under her armpit.

Wulva hissed a whisper only Gorlana could hear, "After you die, your cousin will be next, and I will sit on your Goathorn chair."

Gorlana made no reply other than to twist her axe and dig the bottom of the crescent against Wulva's flank, but the Rechlinger woman suddenly kicked upwards towards Gorlana's crotch. She barely twisted a knee in time to block it, and then they both fell in a snarling roll, blades scraping and finally coming apart as a sword sliced across the top of Gorlana's chest and another, more painfully, cut a small but intensely painful slice off the tip of her ear.

Gorlana snarled and couldn't help grasp at the small spurt of blood from her ear, thankfully having a second to do so as Wulva regained her feet and her grip on her swords. Only a second though, as the other woman leaped forward again.

Gorlana kicked the handle of the axe down, bringing the point up in a flash to stop Wulva in her tracks again, the woman twisting away from another painful prod to the shoulder, and rolling away to the side. She spat in disgust at Gorlana.

Let her think what she will. Gorlana told herself. Keeping her an axe-length away meant surviving. They circled slowly around each other. Wulva lurched forward and caught the prodding tip of Gorlana's axe a few more times with either her sword or her armour, snarling in annoyance and affront with each, and looking around the room as if to demand they view her opponent with dishonour for her style.

A twirl of the axe above her head to stop another leaping attack and a long swing and Gorlana had glanced hard enough across Wulva's armour for there to be two trickles of blood dripping down her torso. Wulva panted in furious exhaustion and Gorlana started to feel more optimism. She increased her attack, seeing her opponent bleeding and tired, she risked using the axe in longer swinging attacks, hoping to slice her in two if she was fast enough. Wulva was still faster, but a glanced hit here, and blunt edged thud there, and she gained snarls of anguish from Wulva rather than anger. Gorlana gave a snarl back and faked a spin, turning it into a swing. Wulva took the feint as she had hoped and she finally swung a heavy horizontal slice at Wulva's off-balance torso.

The Rechlinger woman still had enough traction to jerk her body forward though, catching mostly the shaft in a hard thud against her side, but part of the blade cutting into her flank with a sound of wet flesh. Wulva knew what she had sacrificed though, and dropped her left sword to grasp the axe shaft and keep Gorlana from pulling it back at first. She flipped her other sword to hold it upside down and then suddenly lurched forward with Gorlana's pull, lifting her sword high to bring it in a downward stab at Gorlana's chest.

Gorlana's hand shot out just in time to catch the pommel, thanking the Gods that her arm was at least of equal length to the blade. It still pierced shallowly into the flesh of her upper chest and drew blood and a pained growl from her. She struggled to hold the axe in her other hand against Wulva's grasp trying to pull it away and they hung motionless in straining equalled strength again as the sword slowly cut into her chest.

Suddenly Wulva let go of Gorlana's axe handle and her claws went viciously into Gorlana's face. She panicked and grasped Wulva's wrist to save her eyes from being clawed out, still suffering scratches over her face while her axe dropped to her feet.

They hung there again, pushing against each other as Wulva tried to twist her wrist away from Gorlana's grasp and plunge the sword deeper into Gorlana's skin with the other. They shared a hateful stare for a moment until suddenly Wulva snarled like an animal and brought her face forward to bite into Gorlana's neck.

She roared as Wulva's fangs sunk deep into her neck muscles, drawing blood and letting go of her wrist to pull at Wulva's hair but she bit down even harder. Gorlana nearly lost herself in panic, feeling like a deer being taken by a wolf. The sword sunk deeper into the flesh below her skin. It would puncture lung soon, if Wulva's gnawing teeth didn't find her larger neck-vessels first. She let go of Wulva's hair to bat her flailing claws away from her face again and then remembered her axe. The shaft near the blade lay over her foot. She kicked it up and managed to catch it with her hand. The blunt end of the handle was far behind her and she felt it come up against the heavy stone edge of the floor. She used it. Bracing that end against the edge of the stone, she twisted Wulva's body and kneed her in the chest to knock her back enough to lift the axe-tip in front of her. Then as Wulva pushed back, she pulled with her and sunk the axe tip into her guts.

Braced against the stone, the weight of their bodies brought the sharp point of the axe through her armour like a spear and finally Wulva's jaws released Gorlana's neck as she let out a roar of deep guttural pain. Gorlana twisted the axe and pulled again, feeling and hearing heavier torrents of blood pour from the Rechlinger woman's torso. Finally she dropped the sword, but also broke from her shock and attacked Gorlana's face with her claws again. Gorlana backed away, letting the impaled axe go, to hang from the woman's guts for a moment, then grasping the shaft further back and shoving it forward again in a sickening wet spurt of flesh and blood as it found new depths. Wulva grasped the axe as if to pull it from her, but it was the last purposeful movement she made. Her face paled quickly and she fell to her knees, splashing in the growing puddle of blood below her, and then on to her back as Gorlana shoved again on the handle to make sure of her death.

Finally, as her body lay empty-eyed and twitching pinned under the long axe, Gorlana let go. She suddenly remembered her wounds and her hands shot to her upper chest and neck, feeling blood trickling, not pouring or squirting, and thanking the Gods again that Wulva's sword and fangs had not dug deep enough or precise enough to puncture larger vessels.

She looked at Traulch, who stood in stiff disbelief, and perhaps, wonder. She knew she needed to seize the moment in the Rechlingers' eyes, and make it count to them and their version of 'honour'.

She lifted the axe and brought it down to decapitate Wulva in a single clean blow. She lifted the head and threw it at Traulch. It thudded off his chest and landed at his feet. He did not react at first but then suddenly his legs gave way and he fell to his knees.

As Gorlana stepped closer to him, she smelled his feelings. Shock for sure, but also wonder, admiration... lust. Despite her bleeding exhaustion, she managed to saunter in a confident victorious walk, continuing to put on a display to these Rechlingers and their leader. As she reached him, she didn't even need to demand any words from him. His mouth spitted them out hoarsely.

"My queen."

She nodded, grasping him by the neck and lifting his chin up to make him stand and meet her. He was already breathing in heavy excitement, almost ignoring, or perhaps enjoying, the grasp of her claws on his neck. He walked backwards obediently and she pushed him against a stone pillar at the edge of the hall floor. It was not clear to anyone, including herself, whether her claws would pull him to a possessive kiss, or crush his throat. She knew though, that if she wished a violent bloodbath with all the Rechlinger clans today then she would not have accepted Wulva's duel. What she needed was their allegiance. Their obedience. She would take it.

She grabbed Traulch by the balls, at the same time she kissed him briefly and then bore her teeth near to his face. Immediately she felt his already hard twitching cock and rubbed up his pants to his belt.

"Do I truly rule you know?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Completely. My victorious mate."

"Do the Rechlingers hold to their honour, in what I have won here?"

"Of course," Traulch rasped, breathing faster. "Kneel to your queen my brothers and sisters!" he said louder, with a glance over her shoulder.

She heard the movement of bodies behind her as they did, but did not turn. She leaned into his ear. He was almost literally drooling as she loosened his belt.

She reached under his pants and grasped his cock painfully tight She whispered harshly, "Did you plan this?"

His eyes rolled back in either pain or lust or both, then he finally regained the sense to reply, "I knew you would eventually have to face her. You have won, and proved your worth."

She growled, feeling annoyed at his response and wanting to interrogate him further, but she supposed she was likely better off not knowing. Either way she would keep him, cautiously, and use his support. For Orthalia, she told herself, as she pumped his cock and felt precum already spilling from him.

He humped desperately into her hand and grasped her ass, pulling her against him and trying to roughly lower her pants but she bit his ear and pumped him harder. He barked in over-excited growling lust and within seconds his hands lost their purpose and he grasped her ass as he climaxed in her hand. His stinking semen spurted from him on to himself and the floor of the sacred hall.

The Rechlingers would have expected her to claim him with a 'proper' mating but this would suffice, and left her feeling more in control of her honour and superiority in the eyes of the others. She knew that the ancient orcish ways were more similar to the Rechlingers' and she supposed even more audacious things very well would have happened in Orthanhall in years past. She did not dwell on the thought. She finished off his spent cock with a caress of her claws and his legs buckled to kneel in front of her again.

She stepped away, making herself try to feel the pride she would feel if she were truly a Rechlinger chieftain, fighting the discomfort of that thought. She had done what was needed. She had won Wulva's clans. An entire new horde, almost ensuring her clout and victory of the throne. She stood as proud as she could in the center of the floor. The Rechlingers knelt as Traulch did, genuine respect and honour seeming to emanate from them. The other Orthalians stood with serious looks, some respectful, some still shocked and amazed, others worried or doubtful, even a few disgusted, but she knew that would be so, and almost couldn't blame them. Her confidence did not waver until she caught Roderick in her vision. She had managed to briefly push him to the back of her mind, but he was suddenly real and present again. She saw Carthala whispering something in his ear, seeming to rub his shoulder softly. She looked away quickly, not dwelling on the disgust he was likely feeling, and refusing to let herself feel shame and regret that he had to be here now.

She looked to Varrhag and finally spoke, "I accept the allegiance of the western Rechlinger horde. Are we done here today chieftain?"

Varrhag looked briefly to Zurgana who had remained stone-faced and slightly pale since the end of the match. "Yes, high-chieftain," he replied gruffly, masking any discomfort or relief he might have felt. "We are finished for today."

She nodded and let her shoulders fall. She started to feel the pains of her wounds. She felt the heaviness of her armour. She walked over and grasped the long-handled axe with which she had won her victory. An orcish weapon that she had used with a slightly human style, to win the Rechlinger leadership. She decided she would do well to keep it as a symbol.

...

The bright, almost blinding sun shone down over Orthanhall city below her from the steps of the great hall. The small dusting of snow from the night before was quickly melting again, but still reflecting brilliantly off the houses and hillsides. The snow was not staying, but it in a few weeks it likely would. The stress and concern of the previous day was seeming to melt away with it, but the cold hard truth of the difficult paths ahead of her would sink in soon enough as well. Though for now, Gorlana could afford some cautious optimism.

The western Rechlingers had already finished moving their camp to her side of the city to join with her. She held off the bitter suspicions of why there was little animosity with the eastern Rechlingers as they did so, the two groups mixing easily without any fighting or threats. Almost as if it had been expected...

Let them be, she told herself again. They had no option now but to continue to follow her and accept what they had achieved. Traulch with a seat next to her in Orthanhall, if not the Goathorn chair itself, and the Rechlingers renewed and bolstered in their influence in Orthalia, yet still sworn underneath her, which was all that mattered.

"Admiring your realm are you?" Iringoll asked as she approached behind her.

Gorlana rolled her eyes but smirked all the same, "It's not my realm yet."

Iringoll scoffed, "It's as good as yours, at this point. Even Zurgana, when she can be bothered to stop pouting, admits that."

Gorlana gave a sideways glance as she sat down next to her, "Your army is still only slightly smaller than mine now, Iringoll."

Iringoll sighed, "Yes but it's not just a tally of heads. You know this. Your valuable captive and your valiant little display yesterday put you more than a few leagues ahead."

Gorlana stayed silent as she stared outwards.

"I suppose I should thank you for winning that," Iringoll continued. "Though I should also shove you down the hill for getting yourself into it in the first place. With how close a call it was... not just you, but all of Orthalia is extremely fucking lucky."