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After taking a deep breath, she let her cloak spill to the ground and left it there to walk back along the way toward where Dregolf was being asked to inspect the lining of Ishka’s particularly flimsy top.
“Oh no!” Talina yelled; flinging the tankards in the air and waiting for one to cover her and the annoying distraction that was her mark.
“What in all the damned dark realms!?” Ishka cried out; trying to scoop the goopy substance from her eyes.
“Oh gosh! I’m so very sorry!” Talina feigned utter horror at her actions. She’d handily ensured that the drink she’d spilled over herself had landed across her shoulder to spill down her body rather than letting it land on her head. Ishka had not been so fortunate.
Without waiting for an invitation, she lunged forward to “help” Ishka by running her hands across her body and ensuring every bit of her flimsy garment was covered in the thick liquid.
“Don’t worry! I’ll help you get this off in no time at all!” she offered whilst smoothly dodging a punch aimed vaguely in her direction from the half-blind orc female.
Strangely enough, not a lot of the drink had landed on Dregolf. Instead he now found himself watching two very attractive women practically have an oil wrestling match in his lap. Talina’s little silver bikini did very little to hide the allure of her body covered in that shiny, slick fluid. He was concentrating so much on the way Talina’s modest breasts bounced in their tiny confines before mushing up against the orc’s larger green globes. As a matter of fact, he was concentrating so hard on the sight that he completely missed Talina swing her elbow out to clash against her slicked-up opponent’s right temple.
The blow came so hard that the orc was knocked completely out of his lap to land in a heap on the floor. With part one of her plan completed, Talina then gasped in feigned terror as she looked upon him.
“Dregolf! Oh no! I’m so terribly sorry, sir! I’ve made such a mess, haven’t I?” She ran her hand mournfully up along the gorgeous, slender curve of her body. Then she bent over to place her hand in his lap where a bit of the mead had dribbled off her now barely-conscious opponent and onto him. “Here, let me clean it up for you.”
She reached out, knowing full well that his trunks were just about ready to burst with the lump they were restraining. So her hands lowering to massage the mead into his inner thigh and across his lower belly successfully brought all his attention to her.
“Is that better, sir?” she asked as meekly and eagerly as she could. “This stuff is so awfully difficult to clean off… unless…”
“Arglnuph?” In his defence, Dregolf could normally speak in full utterances, but he found that his mind just wasn’t quite up to it right then for some reason.
“Well,” Talina went on in a conspiratorial tone, “I have heard that saliva is likely the best way to stop this from staining. If you’d grant me the honour, sir. I’d be happy to take you over there behind those tents and do everything my tongue can to clean up your crotch.”
That did it, alright. She found herself immediately hoisted up over Dregolf’s shoulder and enjoying the ride with a private little grin to herself. He ran between the clusters of tents as fast as his legs could carry him. Talina offered a cheerful wave to Ishka who was still lying in the dirt, covered in redroot mead, and looking bloody murder at her.
Soon enough they were flanked by the canvas of the tents. Dregolf eagerly pushed his way through the ropes keeping them in place to burst out amidst the scene of his little brother’s beating. In that moment, Talina successfully wriggled her way free of his arm and slipped down from his shoulder into a graceful roll onto the dirt behind him. The big orc didn’t seem to notice. His lust was erased in a moment of stunned silence before a dark and familiar rage brought his blood to the boil.
Rolk stood in the middle of the private little clearing, his hand clenching a tuft of Perolf’s hair and holding him upright with it. It seemed like Perolf had finally taken Rolk up on the idea of laying down a challenge, and it wasn’t going too well for him. His face was bloody, one of his eyes had swollen shut with the skin turning into a fierce red colour, and his right ankle was definitely not bending the way it was supposed to.
Watching Dregolf’s reaction was something like watching a sped-up version of a kettle coming to the boil. At first he was very still, unable to quite believe his eyes at the scene before him. Then he began to visibly shake whilst his face contorted into a snarl of outrage. Finally, he cast his head back and smashed his fist against his chest before releasing a deafening roar of his own challenge toward the Berserker alpha.
Rolk spat on the barely conscious body of Perolf before letting him fall into the dirt.
“It is done. All that was his is now mine and I do not accept your challenge. A change is coming to this place soon, Dregolf.” Rolk said with a startling lack of concern for the foaming-at-the-mouth warrior in his presence. “You would be unwise to take anything from your future warchief. The orcs will soon stand proud again, and dregs like this will be purged from our ranks. Bow to me now and-”
It seemed that Rolk hadn’t quite read the situation correctly. Rather than cowering in fear, Dregolf had practically launched himself at his brother’s attacker in a fiery rage. Rolk had also severely underestimated the vast chasm in skill between an unproven war-pack and a veteran of the northern war. When his pack members charged at Dregolf in an attempt to pin him down for Rolk, they found their charges came to a thundering halt with alarming speed. The senior warrior wasn’t just faster and smarter than The Berserkers, but he was actually stronger. They weren’t used to that at all.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.
He broke the jaw of the first one to tragically get ahead of his pack members and be the first to engage. A simple yet lightning fast sidestep put him at the wrong angle of the two that followed. He smashed them into each other and off balance with a lunge and a crash of his shoulder. After that, Rolk knew that the others wouldn’t be able to get between him and Dregolf in time to be any help.
That was when the strongest orc of the proving grounds, and victor of so many challenges even before his time, turned and fled.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t nearly fast enough. Soon after that, Talina pushed herself back into the folds of the tents out of the way. She saw the rest of Dregolf’s war pack, veterans all, burst out of other gaps between the tents. They had recognised their alpha’s war cry. From then, life for the Berserkers took a distinct and monumental turn for the worst.