Blood Elf Monarch

Night had fallen, the last rays of twilight disappearing after they reached the fort. Though everyone was exhausted, the atmosphere was lively. They had won a battle and survived another day, and that was a cause for celebration.

Tristan did not believe that the green creatures would be able to understand the idea of having fun, but his doubts were instantly dashed the moment the orcs opened up barrels of drinks. Right as the barrels were cracked open, the sweet smell of fermented fruits filled the air.

"Mead!" Shouted the orc, while waving for the others to partake.

Tristan watched them celebrate from afar and gave a wry smile. It appears mead is the only one non orc language word they could say. A testament of how much they loved drinking. From the various foods served atop several rows of rotting wooden crates, it seems that they had similar tastes of food to humans. Stewed and grilled meat put on makeshift skewers filled the place, though, from the odd smell, Tristan doubted the freshness of the ingredients.

Aside from partaking in food and drinks, fighting seemed to be an acceptable pastime for the green-skinned orcs, and brawls almost every hour was a normal occurrence. The losing side might come out losing a few teeth and sometimes an eye, while the winner would get loud cheers and extra drinks, but the fight would always be finished with a toast and a friendly chat.

However, in contrast to the cheerful celebrations, the elf and the group of humans were frowning. It seems that something bad had happened.

First, they were unable to find joy knowing there were 20.000 other angry barbarians out there on the chaotic plains.

Secondly, from Astrid's information, they now knew the nearest barbarian post from them was merely a day away. Worse, the post seems to be filled with thousands of warriors ready to even out the score. Considering the situation, Astrid believed that another attack, a much bigger one, would arrive within the span of two or three days.

Third, the worst news of all. The ship Tristan came here with, decided to dupe them, and left the port during the commotion of the ongoing battle. Thanks to this deed, Tristan's already sour mood worsened, and his mind was filled with thoughts on how to torture the captain when he found them later.

Last but not least, even with all the information pointing the odds were against them, Grawl the warchief didn't seem afraid. The reports Tristan gave him were merely met with a smirk and a challenge. "Let them come."

Indeed, the warchief really has the strength and courage to lead. The ferocity he displayed was like a lion defending its pride, and he threw enemies around with the strength of an enraged giant. But unfortunately it was packed with the small brain of a one year old.

Yesterday's fight made the orcs lose half of their fighting force, but now they were celebrating willy-nilly, without regard let alone any worry for their lives tomorrow.

Thanks to the current situation, Tristan was backed into a corner, and for now, there were no good options. Tristan turned to look at the others and whispered.

"We will leave tomorrow." Tristan sighed. "There is no other way, and considering the situation, braving the orc plains would be better than being sitting ducks here with these idiots."

As usual, Seth was the fastest one to agree when it comes to shirking work, but unlike before, the others quickly agreed with him.

"That settles it then," Tristan concluded.

They decided to retire to their rooms early and woke up at first light to pack up. Right as they were about to leave, the Rugrats and female orc Karra showed up, trying to convince them once more. While Tristan could feel the orcs' desperation and Layla's pity to them, no amount of pleading and cute stares from the orcs, and no amount of coins, was worth risking their lives.

They walked out of the fort towards the north, planning to return to Arcadia as soon as they could. 

Unfortunately, in the middle of their journey, he saw dozens of figures approaching from afar.

Tristan used his enhanced senses right then and shook his head.

"Dammit, of course it's more bad news!"

The figures he saw were all green-skinned orcs approaching where they stood. Even from here, Tristan could see that a few dozen of them seemed to be suffering from wounds, and some even lost a limb or two.

As Tristan feared, it appears the orcs came from a camp in the north of the fort. Considering the situation, most likely they were attacked by the barbarians yesterday as well, and they were not as lucky.

To be sure of their current predicament, Tristan decided to check out the location of nearby camps with the new information from the coming orcs. And the result is, they were surrounded.

"Dammit!! Fuck! Fuck!" 

Realizing how grave their situation was, Tristan quickly racked his mind for ideas they could use to escape with their lives.

Remembering what Barry did a few days ago, Tristan asked him. "Hey, Barry, what is the situation regarding the reinforcement from the mayor? Can't you just tell him to send us a boat immediately?"

"Sir, Actually once we told them our condition, the Mayor was no longer contactable, I am still patiently waiting for the reply"

"Fuck. This is fucking great!" Not giving up, Tristan came up with another solution. "Barry what are the chances they would let a few humans and an elf pass through unharmed, I mean they surely were just chasing the orcs."

Barry shook his head and explained there is a little chance they would let humans pass, but these barbarians actually hated elves the most. Something about how elves were invaders of humanity and must be killed on sight, Astrid's resigned sigh only confirmed it.

"…"

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