When The Bad Guys Win Ch. 05

"And there's the dark imagination again." Tecryd sighed as he focused cleaning himself up, completely ignoring the half orc until something clearly popped into his mind. "Braizra, how old are you?"

"What, you'd feel more guilty about raping a kid than an adult?" Braizra was tired, he was hurting. He'd let the trauma of what happened hit him later. "Eighteen. I'm eighteen."

Tecryd seemed genuinely shocked. "You're younger than Ecra?" He asked.

"Uh..." Braizra's eyes flicked to the side as he thought. "Guess so. Ecra's what, twenty one? Maybe twenty two." His eyelids lowered, he couldn't stay awake. Not anymore. His body was drained. He needed to heal. "Now either leave me alone or put me in my cell. I don't care which."

He honestly didn't expect to hear the door close and for him to be left alone.

Well. Nice bed, at least.

~*~

Eighteen.

Tecryd sat outside the door, thinking to himself.

Only eighteen? That would've made him around sixteen when he joined with the last of the party. By orc standards, a man, but just barely. Not to mention he was half human.

He could see the human side when he looked into his eyes. A lot of awful threats, pretty graphic ones, but they were all talk. Just... like a hot headed teenager who runs into danger every chance possible because he has no experience otherwise.

Tecryd groaned and dragged a hand down his face before he teleported back into the bedroom.

A small spell ensured the half orc would stay asleep, although it was a pain to flip him over to his chest. Braizra snored like a wild beast, certainly his orc side Tecryd thought before he carefully peeled the rest of Braizra's shirt off. The wounds had been deep. Not enough to kill. But enough to be serious pain.

Soft spell work helped seal up the worst of them, ease the pain of the rest. A wet cloth carefully dabbed down his back successfully cleaned him up, and after he flipped him back over he disposed of his shirt and pulled his pants back up.

Perhaps this close he could see it. The absence of facial hair development, just a bit of patchy stubble. The lack of wrinkles by the eyes.

This was not the time to develop a conscious, Tecryd chided himself. This 'teenager' had broken his back and left him unable to move on his own for months.

Still... might as well let him keep the mattress. It was already stained in orc blood, there was no way Tecryd could ever use it again anyway.