Chapter III: Plans (Part II)
Another year passed. And this is when I knew it was time to start making moves.
Our camp grew exponentially; Goblins and gretchins seemed to double and triple in numbers for our little campsite, and more slaves were starting to join the 'Cliff Hang Camp' (as it was being referred to by its residents) in their off-time from their duties as a form of solace from the grim misery of the everyday. The camp itself was like some kind of twisted Garden of Eve, where Greenskins and humans were actually working alongside each other without much fuss, though there was certainly the occasional quibble or violent confrontation; quickly settled by financial compensation or a challenge to a bare-knuckles fistfight.
I had set up that system to limit the most amount of confrontations in my sudden and growing camp as possible. After all, workers that were beat up and dying would be far less efficient- And, partly because less confrontations decreased the risk that I would be caught in a fight I could not win.
Any other problems that arose were quickly and boisterously settled by Strosk, who seemed to enjoy swaggering around the camp and commanding others to do stuff, even if it was the most random or arbitrary things, just because he could. I had no reason to stop Strosk from acting like a big boss, because he showed infallible servitude to me ever since the day I had spared him from death, and he was my acting authority so I didn't have to constantly keep the others in check.
After all, I wasn't naive- most of those who followed me at this point were not loyal to me, only to the shelter and safety I seemed to provide for those who worked under me. It was a purely and mutually beneficial relationship at the moment, but that was how these people and Greenskins worked- everything was for self-profit.
What a cynical world.
Walking towards the cliffhang routinely at the end of the evening, I passed by several Goblins, gretchins and snotlings, as well as humans that veered away from me with scraping heels and forced smiles, complimenting and praising me with disguised undertones of fear and dread. I was well-aware of the reason behind this recent bowing and scraping; Only a day ago, I had established my complete and brutal authority over the camp after a dilemma between a Goblin and one of the humans cropped up, which threatened to upset the relative harmony of the small campsite…
"KING ENOS! KING ENOS!"
Earlier that today, having been in the middle of maintaining my equipment and washing my clothing (courted by the gargled laughter and peanut gallery of a group of Orks that were making fun of me a few meters away), my attention was called towards Strosk, who was screaming frantically as his little stubby legs waddled over towards me in worry.
"What?" I asked him simply, with a commanding tone that demanded an explanation immediately- it was a form of speaking I had decided to adopt as a way to intrinsically attach myself to the very image of authority for those working under me. I had mimicked it from the biggest gangs of Orks, and from the Warboss who had kidnapped me so long ago; And still had yet to come back to this village, even after years passed. I couldn't entirely discount the idea he'd forgotten about the whole bloody territory.
"One o' da humiez wuz squabblin' wit' one o' da bigga Gobbos, Shrak Snaggletooth! 'E's part uff da Backbreaker Boyz, one o' da gangz o' da camp!"
After translating the near-gibberish sentence through my head, I quickly felt dread wash over me; My careful study of the Ork camp these past weeks had allowed me to understand the dynamics of power, and that there were a number of big and small gangs that ran parts of the camp's functions, while battling over every portion in a way that was similar to gang warfare.
The Backbreaker Boyz were one of the big gangs that ran a large portion of the territory. If one of the humans from my camp had fucked with a member of that gang, even if it was a Goblin, it would inevitably lead to a confrontation with them all.
"Shit. SHIT!"
Without realizing it, the second curse that came out of my mouth felt as if it had been unknowingly imbued with a supernatural power, and I was shocked to suddenly see Strosk's eyes suddenly roll into the back of his head as he fainted to the ground.
"Strosk!.. Damn it all!"
I was torn between checking on Strosk and dealing with the dilemma at the Cliffhang Camp, and so decided to pick up Strosk by the torso, sprinting towards the campsite with great haste. With each second that passed, I only hoped with climbing anxiety that the situation had not gotten entirely out of hand.
SMACK!
CRACK!
"YOUZ MESSED WIT' DA WRONG GOBBO, YA FAHKIN' PINKSKIN!"
"I'LL CAVE YOUR FUCKING HEAD IN, GREENSHIT!"
I arrived just in time to see the human and Goblin tussling in the dirt unarmed, to my relief, but shocked that the rest of the crowd, both Greenskins and humans, were gathering around them and cheering raucously; What kind of fucked-up unity was this?!
"STOP!"
I yelled over the roaring of the crowd, but my voice still couldn't be heard as everyone was too engrossed in the fight. A wave of anger rushed through my veins, and I dropped Strosk uncaringly, shoving my way through the crowd and causing rows of onlookers to tumble over each other; In the moment, I had forgotten that my inherent strength had become equal to, if not above that of a full-grown Ork.
"I SAID STOP YOU BRAINLESS SHITS!"
Another force of supernatural origin, this time magnifying my voice tenfold, and causing everyone in the vicinity to crumple to their knees, writhing in pain as they clutched at their ears. I was freaked out by these sudden developments happening to me, but at the moment I had only one goal: To end this conflict without getting all of us massacred.
"YOU TWO!"
I pointed a finger at the Goblin and human writhing on the ground, having been previously fighting. Their raised their gazes towards me, a mixture of indignation and fear in their eyes. I saw that the human was one of the original villagers from my hometown; Baske, a merchant-turned-tinkerer after being brought to this camp.
"What the FUCK is the problem here?!" I shouted in fury.
"Enos, this little Greenshit was demanding that I give over half my tools to him and his gang! Claiming that they're 'protecting' us from the other Orks! I know it's bullshit!"
"Da farthest 'ting from bullshit, you pinkskin ingrate!" Shrak screeched in outrage. "Yoz li'l camp 'az been undisturbed 'fa so long cuz WE'Z been keepin da 'otha Orkz off ya backs! Big 'Un Locka sez yoz camp works 'arder and betta den da rest!"
Shrak's last statement was pointed at me, and I wasn't sure how to respond to that allegation; It was true that our campsite had gone an eerily long amount of time without being harangued by Orks, but I had thought it was because they were too stupid and like pack animals that never ventured away from their group by themselves.
However, the implications of Shrak's claim were not unrealistic; I was more privy than others to the shocking analysis and cunning abilities of Greenskins, that showed up at the most unexpected times. And it didn't just pertain to battle; In almost every part of their life, there were frequent moments of actual genius that Greenskins showed that it actually perplexed me how this society of Greenskins had not become one of the most advanced civilizations on the planet.
Then I spent time seeing how often the Greenskins backstabbed and started infighting, and that perplexity no longer held residence in my mind. Tangent aside, I still had to address Shrak's demand for compensation, for his gang's seeming 'protection'. It was not hard to decide that the best course of action was to negotiate a fixed trade with the gang through Shrak, at least until I had amassed enough power to overtake this entire village.
"Well, that's a reasonable request." I said simply, trying to maintain an even ground on both sides of the argument. Baske shot a look of outrage at me, and I shot back a look of malice, and he quieted down. Shrak, on the other hand, seemed emboldened by the negotiation.
"Well den, letz talk bizness! Oi fink it's only a matta of cur-teh-zee to give us half of all you make!"
Obviously, that was not going to happen. We wouldn't even be able to sustain ourselves if this was made the case. However, I knew that the one thing Goblins valued the most (besides their life) was their image to others; Their reputation. All I'd need to do was praise his gang for their krumpin' deeds, butter up Shrak, talk about the efficiency of the workers and how they could help his gang over a long-term relationship-
CRACK!
Shrak's face suddenly veered out of sight as Baske's fist slammed into the Goblin's jaw, sending him flying through one of the makeshift tents. I exhaled in fury, utterly exhausted with the whole thing as Shrak clambered out of destroyed tent, cursing up a storm and threatening to tell his whole gang to smash the place up and kill everyone inside.
I looked between Baske, who was poising himself to fight as Shrak pulled a knife from his waistband, holding it menacingly.
(Music: "Mean Demeanor", by Run The Jewels)
"Fuck this." I cursed aloud, grabbing both Shrak and Baske by the neck; Their eyes bulged out as I tightened my grip around their throats, causing them to grasp desperately for their choked esophaguses.
I had reached my breaking point; Perhaps it was the developments of magical power I had obtained, or maybe it was the building pressure of having to deal with all of this, a long-time bomb that had just been waiting to set off any time now.
I was fucking livid. Murderous. Apoplectic. Tired of this conflict. It was time to-
END IT.
"GET ME SOME ROPE!"
I felt a momentary, sixth-sense connection with the minds of those around me, before they suddenly set off to carry out the task with dogmatic pursuit. The subconscious, reasonable portion of me took note of how my control over this verbal power seemed to be connected directly to my emotional state. I ignored the pleading cries of Elma, who was begging for me to not harm Baske in any way.
She would be sorely disappointed. In that moment, I felt almost entirely disconnected from my reality; My actions were commanded through inhuman determination, unbudging on what I intended to do next.
The rope was brought to me, and I slammed Shrak's face into the ground, keeping Baske held down with my other hand as I wrapped the rope around Shrak's neck, then a second rope around Baske's neck.
"S-STOP! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, ENOS?!"
"BLOODY BASTUHD PINKSKIN- UUUGGGGGHHHH!"
Their protests turned into shrieking chokes of desperation as I pulled them by the neck across the ground, trudging through the crowd of humans pulling at my garments with pleadings of mercy, and headed towards the lone tree near the campsite, and tossed over both of the ropes, then pulled on them viciously from the other side.
"GGGHhhh!"
"GGAAAAAHHHHHH!"
The two of them laced their hands around the ropes that tugged tightly on their necks with the help of gravity, as I pulled further on the rope to bring their writhing bodies higher into the air. Seeing them struggle horrifically, swinging in the air, I could hear the sounds of screaming from the humans and excited chatter from the Greenskins. An expression of madness sat on my face as I tied the ropes down to a protruding branch at the base of the tree, walking between the two writhing bodies in the air and shouting raucuously at those gathered.
"YOU. WILL. OBEY. ME. OR. DIE!"
After spewing the last word, I grabbed the legs of both Baske and Shrak, about to yank down forcefully on both legs. It was then that I glanced across the expression of despair animated across Elma's face- a stream of memories, my childhood with Elma, surfaced at the forefront of my mind…
In one swift motion, I released my hand from Baske's leg and grabbed Shrak's other leg, pulling with all of my might downward in unhinged, malevolent delight.
SCHHHHHHHHHRRRRRK!
Caught between the rope around his neck and the violent gusto of my strength, Shrak's body tore apart by the muscle, sinew and bone; his midsection tearing apart and spilling steaming organs across the ground as his lower half collapsed into the dirt and bled crimson rivers across the stone and grass. As his upper half twitched violently in the last throes of life, I stormed over to the rope holding Baske up and tore it in half, dropping Baske's wretching body to the ground, leaving him coughing, choking and gasping for air in shock, grappling with the terror of nearly dying.
The onlookers of greenskins erupted into fanatic and raucous applause and cheering, bowing and scraping their heads after witnessing the brute display of strength and malice- and seemingly uncaring that I had spared the human. The villagers, on the other hand, seemed to release a collective gasp as they saw Baske still alive. I dared not glance at Elma, fearing the expressions I would belie on her face.
I had done enough. I realized now the path to conquering this village and leaving this rocky, dry shithole.
And that was through unmitigitated brutality and violence.
I reflected on the day's events from the cliffhang, reflecting on how this newfound power over the last 2 years had changed my outlook, goals and even personality. I was aware of my own changes, yet I did hardly much to stop it; After all, the taste of freedom, coupled with the prospect of growing this supernatural power inside of me, was sufficient enough to steer me from doubting the path I treaded.
I didn't despise it. I had spent years frustrated with the powerlessness that laced every fiber of my body; Unable to get back at these Greenskin cretins for all the agony and misery they'd put me through physically, emotionally and spiritually. And unfortunately for them, I had lost all familial love long ago for the remaining villagers; Those left alive from the raid years ago that I truly cared for had all died, either in the massacre itself or afterwards from the brutal slave life they'd been forced into.
Leaving only those who had lost their sense of self and became nihilistic versions of their past personalities. It was beyond depressing…
-!
I suddenly felt a loss of breath, and keeled over in panic, trying to grab a breath from the air; Only to realize I was no longer staring out over the drylands, but instead into a foggy, black mist that extended in every direction; Leaving me in some floating state of limbo.
A week ago, I would have lost my shit and panicked completely; However, I stayed as composed as I could and tried to address the situation. I opened my mouth, but not before something else spoke:
-*-*-*-*-*- KNEEL.-*-*-*-*-*-