***** Author's Note *****

My longest chapter yet! I had a lot of fun writing it. Bit of an easter egg in this one too! :D

38

"Skator ghash, lass!" Zathra hissed his eyes growing wide. "Ya mean to tell me, Bar an' I had that mor dagalur on our tails an' didn' even know it?! We know just 'ow ta pick em don't we? Prolly saved our own hide's by getting caught by frog-face's crew!" He let out a half-hearted chuckle of relief; he wouldn't have stood a chance fighting an olog.

Alaesia shook herself, snapping out of a trance-like state as the orc brought the reminder of who he was crashing back down. Even as a captive himself, the orc could exert his power over her. She bit her tongue. This beguiling orc was no more her ally than any monster of Mordor, and she had yet again been lured into conversing with so openly, so vulnerably, with him.

"S-stay out of m-my head!" Alaesia snapped. Angry, hot tears began to fill her eyelashes, stinging as they trickled across the wounds on her cheek.

Zathra glanced towards her with a hint of surprise on his face; rare as it was to have someone who could resist his magic, rarer still was having his targets detect his mental probes as he was digging through the deep reaches of their mind, "Ah, sorry lass... I ain't mean anythin' by it. Sometimes I ferget's I'm even doin' it-"

"I-I don't c-care!" Alaesia cut him off, "S-stop... just stop..."

"Alright, alright," the orc held up his shackled hands disarmingly, "I'll try not ta do it. I'm really not tryin' to hurt ya, I promise. Maybes we can start over?" He cocked his head towards the moaning form of his leader on the floor, "Let's give some introductions, eh? This braindead fool's Barbaurak. Bit rough around the edges, but he's a good orc."

Alaesia's glanced at the orc on the floor, scowling silently. Good orc? No such thing...

It took much of Zathra's concentration to not reach his mind out to hers when she refused to respond. He did his best to distract himself by continuing, "And I'm Zathra Snake-Tongue. Been running with Bar since the vats. Prolly as close to a blood brother as we could be... I just don't like the idea of swearing blood oaths to the stupid shrakh. Does somethin' to the head. Makes fellas a bit... demented. Like the green-arsed, frog-face up there, or Silgak, back when ya stuck his brother Tuka in the gob. Blood brotherhood sounds like a right quick way ta get slaughtered... er..." he paused realizing he had started rambling, but by then, Alaesia had turned away, hiding her face from him.

"So...er..." after a few minutes of silence, he prompted, "You gotta name then? Or should I just keep callin' ya lass?"

The human woman held her tongue, but Zathra couldn't help but hear her subconscious utter forlornly to the aether, not unlike a warg howling for its pack, Alaesia...

Zathra eventually left his human cellmate to the quiet of her corner, still tending to his half-dead companion. Alaesia stared at the walls of the holding cell, trying to distract herself by counting the number of worm burrows she could see chewed into its timbers. At least if the orc tried to continue to read her mind, the best he'd get out of her was naught but pointless nonsense. She didn't want to focus on her fate, didn't want to let him extract her painful history. But the pain and isolated silence made such distractions difficult to maintain.

After all, she had just barely escaped Ar-Tashk's clutches. She had only just begun to believe she might gain back her freedom. But of course, seeking such glimmers of hope was like chasing reflections of light, hoping to find fresh water, only to find orcish weaponry brandished at her instead.

Such despair was punctuated by the throbbing of her fresh head injuries, as well as intermittent spikes of pain that refused to let her forget the damage that had been done within her body. Alaesia could only hope and pray she wouldn't start to bleed again.

As Zathra's strength started returning to him, he took to executing a second pass of healing on Barbaurak's head. Barbaurak himself, while restrained, had eventually relented to his fate and he had fallen into a heavy sleep. His guttural rumbling was indistinguishable from that of a caragor, making Alaesia's skin prickle with unease. She knew better than to disturb a dangerous, sleeping beast. But Zathra had no such qualms. He pushed and shoved Barbaurak's limp body off to one side of the cell, to make room for himself to get as comfortable as he could. Before long, both orcs were thundering away in sleep.

Rest didn't come so easily to Alaesia. She sat awake, too unnerved to nod off in the presence of the orcs, even if they themselves were dead to the world. Hours could have ticked by, but it was nearly impossible when the deep interior of the ship had next to no external ports to see what time of day it was. She hazarded a guess that it was likely nightfall as she noted through a small grate of bars in the heavy oak door of the cell, that an orc in the passageway outside was starting to light some lanterns.

The soft glow of the lanterns barely filtered through the grate, but provided Alaesia with the welcome ability to see better in the dark cell. But with it, came memories of the cage that Ar-Tashk had installed in his kitchen at the fortress. The ship cell seemed to grow cold, as if it were made of stone, and the shadows cast across her from the grate of bars fell heavy upon her. She closed her eyes, curling to wrap her head under her arms, her ears began to play tricks upon her.

She could almost hear the ominous rising sound of shuffling, the weedy growl of a goblin stalking just outside the cage. Her heartbeat quickened, but all blood drained from her extremities, leaving them stiff with trepidation. The rattle of metal grew louder in her mind until she began to quiver. Her throat gripped tight as she heard the sound of the goblin beginning to fiddle with the door lock. Her lungs arrested, her stomach dropped, her scars stinging once again as if freshly inflicted.

No... no...

Her mind chanted, as though trying to convince herself she was imagining it.

No...

Zathra stirred, shifting from his side to his back.

NO...

The silence voice was practically screaming.

NO! NO! NO!

The door of the cell started to creak open, sending a cascade of light through, falling upon Alaesia against the far wall where she was trying to press as far from the entrance of the cell as possible. Zathra's eye cracked open, trying to take in what was happening to have let him hear his human cellmate, even from a dead sleep.

An orc, tattooed with green streaks, likely in tribute to the captain of the ship had opened the cell door, casting a long shadow over the human woman. The storm of her mind struck Zathra like a bolt of lightning, to the point he had to snap his mind shut to her emotions.

The tattooed orc glanced at Barbaurak's still form, snorting contemptuously and kicking him in his side. When the unconscious orc failed to stir, he spit at him, "Stupid shrakh. Ain't even worth crow food now."

He only took a brief glance at Zathra, who appeared just as dead to the world as Barbaurak, before striding towards Alaesia, while reaching behind his back. Alaesia grabbed desperately at the wall, digging her broken nails into the wood.

"NO!" her voice burst from her throat with such force, it actually made the tattooed orc laugh.

"Oh shaddup. Yer ain't scaring nobody," he grabbed the chain attached to her collar, yanking her forward to him. "Bala like you don't ev'n know wot's gud fer ya!"

As his arm curled around Alaesia's shoulders, his clawed hand curled over her jaw, forcing it to open as he shoved the spout of a water-skin against her lips. A flow of filthy, sickly-sweet grog poured down her throat before she began to choke. Alaesia's cries came out garbled and she tried to spit, but the orc clamped his hand under her chin and pinching her nose until she swallowed.

"Can't 'ave a pricey lil flower like yous wilting away on us now, can we, bala? Drink up, luv!" the orc sneered, prying her mouth open again. "I 'ear Olrok sez you're a whelper. Wonder wot it's like, makin' yer own spawn!"

Alaesia went to scream, only to be drown in grog again. Despite his size being only slightly bigger than her, the orc held her in his sinewy embrace with little effort. She couldn't lash out, her arms pinned against his chest, "Maybe Captain'll let me have a go atcha before we sellz ya-GHHHKKKK!"

The orc was ripped away, as from behind, Zathra threw a length of his chain over the tattooed one's throat, and heaved backwards with all of his own weight, snarling under his breath "Like 'ell bogscum! Yer not sellin' any of us..."

Orc against orc, the pair buckled and kicked, each trying to take power over the other. Chains curled tighter and tighter, the muffled sounds of strangulation lost among the creaking of boat timbers. The tattooed orc couldn't scream for his crewmates as his sight began to blacken. His fangs gnashed and bit until they sank into Zathra's arm, but still Zathra grit himself through the pain, until the orc began to go slack beneath him. He held on, not daring to loosen his grasp, until he could sense even the slightest hint in the orc's mind blip out. Feeling the sensation of death through his victim made Zathra shutter, but he gave one final yank, torquing the orc's head with a solid resounding CRACK! ensuring the orc would never stir again.

He slumped back, kicking the body off himself, and pushed the door of the cell quietly back to closed so any prying eyes wouldn't immediately realize the murder that had just taken place. He began to take stock of the torn flesh where the orc had bit his arm, "Skai lat... I just fixed that arm too!"

As he began to pass his other hand across the bleeding surface, he lolled his head towards Alaesia where she had slumped stricken on the ground, "Lass, now ain't the time ta be lettin' 'im get to ya. Snap outta it."

Alaesia glanced at Zathra with wide, prey-like eyes, as though he were a predator. The last time she was in cell, her first assailant had been slaughtered before her eyes as well. The last time, she got so caught up in the fantasy of escape, it had left her vulnerable to the attack of the one she thought was her rescuer... She would never make that mistake again, "S-s-stay away from m-me!"

Zathra snarled inwardly, reaching out to grab Alaesia's wrist, "I ain't gonna hurt you, but we've gotta get outta 'ere, and now's our best chance. The door's unlocked and bogscum here had the keys to the wall locks! I snagged these while 'e was distracted with you."

Alaesia tried to pull away from Zathra's grip, only to realize he was dangling a ring of keys and picks in her face. She almost couldn't believe her eyes. Is he implying he'll let me go free...? She didn't dare to dream it was true.

Zathra exasperatedly began to fiddle with the portion of the chains that were latched into fixings mounted to the walls of the cell, first detaching the section that held Alaesia, pausing to take a swig from the half-spilled grog-skin, then moving to the section that Barbaurak was attached to. When he had finished, he turned to look at Alaesia expectantly, "Lass, I ain't got time to pick all these shackles... Either ya come with me now, or we all get caught."

Alaesia could see his gnarled, pointed ears flicking towards every sound, alert and wary they might be discovered at any second. He hefted the limp Barbaurak over one shoulder, gathering the chains as best he could, "Please, lass!"

The desperation in his voice was growing painfully clear, but Alaesia couldn't tell whether her heart was urging her to follow because the orc was weaving his influence over her mind, or if she truly wanted to escape with him. She bit her tongue, before hesitantly relenting, "I... I'll follow y-you."

Zathra nodded lowering his voice to a whisper as he cracked the door ajar, "Good lass. Stick close ta me. We'll have ta sneak overboard. Can ya swim?"

Alaesia grabbed a second of chains as it started to scrape along the wood of the deck, glancing down the passageway, hoping no-one would hear it. "N-not very well..."

Zathra sucked in a pensive breath as he started moving towards the stairway at the stern of the ship. They had a ways to go, and from what he recalled, at least the current holding deck and the crew deck above that to navigate to get to the top deck. "Yer gonna have to give it yer all then, else we'll all sink. I can haul this sorry sack of meat," He gestured towards Barbaurak who was starting to stir while hanging from Zathra's shoulder, "but I can't carry both of yas."

Alaesia nodded at him when he glanced back at her, "I-I'll try."

He cocked an ear towards a crossing point of the passages, waiting for the hint of approaching orcs, but when nothing came, he ticked his tongue softly, signaling to move. As luck would have it, the tattooed orc that Zathra had left dead in their cell seemed to have been the main guard for the evening, the rest, likely sleeping in the crew's quarters, or a few scattered at their various stations around the ship. The door of each cell the trio passed was closed, leaving Alaesia's mind to wander wildly picturing what tortured souls might be held within.

As she passed one nearing the back end of the ship and the first stairway, she heard a raspy voice partnered with a low, somewhat familiar rumble. Though she was crouched following Zathra, through the door's small grate, she could spied an olog, face painted with a stripe of black across his eyes. The sight made Alaesia freeze, but only momentarily as she realized he didn't quite look the same as Ar-Tashk. The caged olog was beastly looking, but in his own way. Where Alaesia would have compared Ar-Tashk to a warg, the olog in the cell by comparison was more caragor-like; significantly less hairy than Ar-Tashk at the least. Alaesia let out her captured breath in relief.

The olog seemed to be looking at whoever was in the cell with him, lip curling in annoyance. He seemed to become aware the trio in the passage outside, and glanced their way through the grate just as they passed. Alaesia ducked, hoping he hadn't seen her, when the small, raspy voice crowed aloud from the other side of the door, "There we go! I got it!"

Zathra's head snapped around, and he hissed in a panic as the door to the cell started to creak open behind them. He grabbed Alaesia by the wrist, scrambling up the first staircase before the occupants of the cell could spot them. Little could be done to muffle the sound of their hurried footsteps now as they stumbled onto the next deck up, where hammocks were strung all up and down the rows of the area. Zathra shoved Alaesia to one side of the room, trying his best to slip into the shadows near the walls before any of the sleeping crew was disturbed by the commotion.

Alaesia, completely overwhelmed by the number of orcs surrounding her, couldn't help but huddle close to Zathra and Barbaurak. They pressed against the wall, shimmying past each small porthole as quietly as possible. The voices of the other two escapees started to grow, the raspy one still chattering away, as if oblivious to what awaited them on the deck as they too began to ascend the stairway. Orcs and uruks began to growl and mumble, half-asleep but still willing to curse out whoever was interrupting their rest.

Alaesia and Zathra froze as one rolled over in his hammock, to face them. They held their breath, unmoving until they were sure his eyes were still closed. At the same moment, there was a low bump and scraping sound that started to roll along the wall behind Alaesia. Looking out the small porthole, she finally saw the dark of night, a stretch of inky-black water reaching out before her, and there, bobbing through the water, was a round shadow. It bobbed and rolled, scraping along the side of the boat. Zathra curiously followed her line of sight out the porthole, til his eyes rested on the same odd bobble.

Just then the olog, and his companion, who Alaesia now saw was a puny orc all dressed up in bone armor, came barreling from the stairwell, ripping hammocks and occupants from where they hung. The little orc laughed maniacally, snarling and sticking orcs with their own weapons as he and his companion started to raise absolute chaos in the crew cabin.

Alaesia could hardly look away from the carnage, but Zathra knew they had no time to waste. He snapped aloud, shaking Alaesia from her stupor, and throwing all semblance of stealth out entirely, "Make a break for it! We can't stay here! Go! GO!"

He rushed forward, nearly dragging Alaesia along with him as he clotheslined an uruk who had just rolled haphazardly out of his hammock. Other orcs started grabbing their scattered weapons and what armor they could scrounge up upon realizing a rampaging olog was loose, which made Alaesia's and Zathra's escape go nearly unnoticed. Behind them, blood and guts were splashed against every surface as the olog tore crew members limb from limb. But Zathra wouldn't let them slow their pace.

Alaesia almost felt as though her arms were about to be pulled from their sockets as Zathra ran, "P-please! S-slow down!"

"Ya don't understand lass!" he panted and yanked her up to the top deck. The night air struck them both, fresh and relieving, but there was no time to appreciate it. "There's a reason my face looks the way it does! Why Bar's looks the way it does!"

"Wh-what are you t-talking a-about?" Alaesia protested,

"That barrel in the water! That's what we do! What we were doin' before we found ya!" he hissed urgently, "To the back of the ship... Go NOW!"

The roaring below the top deck seemed to be growing, now capturing the attention of the awake crewmembers above. Alaesia watched them start to trickle and swarm towards her and Zathra, but he started shouting, pointing behind them, "Escape! The olog got out!"

A wave of powerful, morbid curiosity rushed over Alaesia, as Zathra threw his mental influence at every orc he could. Even she felt compelled to rush back towards the stairwell, but Zathra yanked her back, "Not you lass! Fight it!"

They ran, skirting unimpeded across the majority of the deck, only to see the cabin doors to the captain's quarters be thrown wide, an infuriated Frogblood snarling at his crew, "WHAT IN HELLFIRE IS GOING ON?!"

Frogblood had only a split second to notice Zathra and Alaesia rush past him, up the stairs to the quarter deck above. By the time who he realized he was looking at, a great big olog had emerged from below and broken up the night crew as they charged at him. The olog's small orcish companion had crawled up onto the hulk's back and perched on one of his shoulders. Both were completely covered in black blood as he hollered, "You'll all regret the day you picked a fight with a two-headed troll!"

As the pair charged towards Frogblood, Zathra and Alaesia were clambering over the railing of the quarter deck, and suddenly, without any other warning, the entire front end of the ship concussed with a massive blast of fire and explosive might, launching everyone in the vicinity sky high. Alaesia's eardrums and vision were instantly engulfed as she and the orcs she was tethered to were flung out into the river.

***** Translations *****

Skator ghash - Hellfire!

Mor dagalur - black / dark demon

Shrakh - shit

Bala - breeder

Skai lat - Damn you