The War of Blood and Bones: 3 Books

By Kenneth Guthrie

A war created by those who work in the shadows will now drag three different races into a conflict that will mean the deaths of many and a complete change in the world that they live in. On this battle hinges thousands of lives. Watch as corruption, deceit and pure evil rile with the forces of good to see who will come out on top.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lunatic Ink Publishing
• Release date: Aug 6, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465913975

Kenneth Guthrie

Kenneth Guthrie is a writer of sci-fi, fantasy and crime novels.Profile image credit: Vincent Gerbouin at Pexels.com

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THE WAR OF BLOOD AND BONES: 3 BOOKS

Kenneth Guthrie

Copyright 2011 Lunatic Ink Publishing

Books In This Series:

Orcs

Humans

Manipulators

Find more at Kenneth Guthrie’s Book List

WAR OF BLOOD AND BONES: ORCS

LARK

Lark crouched on the small hill looking down at the ground in consideration of what he had just found. The foot prints were clearly human and he could see the booted imprint of the steel heals that the humans who preferred to ride on the backs of those four legged beasts liked to wear.

Lark considered his mission here. He had been sent to find local towns and villages and to destroy or severely damage the food sources that would keep the human army moving near their lands.

Lark was eager to find one of these villages. He was new to leadership in the small pack of orcs that had been given over to his leadership on the death of the past leader. In Lark's opinion that one had been too weak for leadership anyway. He hadn't found it particularly difficult to hack off the weakling's head and take his current role. It had barely been a struggle really - something Lark was still disappointed with.

Lark yearned to find a human settlement and he knew that his pack members felt the same way. He had broken his favorite human skull a few days ago during a particularly boisterous celebration party and had been feeling sorely at a loss since it had cracked open on his subordinate's head.

He looked down at the foot print in the earth at his feet. It was just one, but could it be the print of a scout sent out from one of the walled forts that humans tended to enjoy building near to this area.

Lark didn't particularly care whether it was a large fort or a small farming village. In his tribe, the young orcs would begin raiding very young, so that they might taste the rich flavor of human blood at an early age. Lark yearned for that blood.

He starred out into the distance from the small peak that he stood on. They would be close - he hoped.

Turning to the short skinny orc, named Pit, who served as Lark's second in command, he ordered the pack to move out. Somewhere out there was a human settlement and he was looking forward to being first to draw blood from those filthy humans that dared to invade his land.

*****

Lark hacked and hacked. The big axe that he always carried with him was perfect for creating a beautifully gory corpse.

He had found the scout much more quickly than he had thought it would take originally. The strange pale creature had moaned at him in its strange language that Lark couldn't even comprehend why anyone would want to speak and then had tried to draw its tiny silver stick of a sword from the sheath at its side.

Lark laughed heartily as he chopped off the little things arm and kicked aside the bleeding heap of flesh so he could chop again at the side of the dead eyed piece of flesh that once was a human being.

The other orcs stood watching with blood lust in their eyes. If they had been the first to find this ugly creature, they would have had their chance to rip and tear at it with the joy and abandon that Lark now displayed, but, due to him being the faster, this would be his pleasure to enjoy.

Lark watched as the creature's insides spilled out from the great rending hole that Lark had created as he went to cutting the little beast in to as many small pieces as he could. This human was weak and in orc society that meant that it should, no must, be killed and mutilated to display the error that came from being weak. This had been the way of the orcs for centuries and Lark held true to these beliefs.

Weakness was an error and an unforgivable one. Lark still remembered his younger brother's weakness in taking a blow from a weakling farmer. The creature had skewed him through the stomach with its little stick. Lark had taken great pleasure in beheading both of them and he still remembered his father's pride shining from his eyes as he looked on the cleanly cut pair of heads that Lark had brought him.

Lark's strokes became a frenzy of blood and chopping. After a few short moments of excitement the corpse was a corpse no longer. Before him lay the many small pieces and chunks of flesh, bones broken and organs spewed in all directions, that had once been the dirty, little monster that had dared to enter his lands.

Lark turned to his pack, his eyes red with rage, anger and lust, and brought his gory axe above his head.

For our lands! he screamed in a great bellow that invited any other humans in the area to visit him for punishment.

The orcs screamed in a flurry of passion and excitement. They had enjoyed the sight and it had been good for Lark to be able to show them his power and ability to reaffirm his leadership of them. There would certainly be challengers for his position in the coming days and he would have to find new orc warriors to take the positions of those that would be punished by his axe, but, eventually, the attempts would lessen as the group began to understand his dominance of them and he would need to kill less and less of them.

Leadership was a hard business to undertake. Subordinates tended to get out of hand very easily and so it often meant that one had to take discipline to rather large extremes to ensure proper behavior. He would have to work hard.

He signaled to Pit and moved over to the four legged creature that the thing was sitting on prior to its death.

The creature shied away from him and tried to run away, but Lark was faster. The beast was fast of the mark, as their kind usually were, but it only took Lark a few sprinting strides to take the creature down with a leap and a massive slashing chop that took the rear leg off the ugly thing.

It fell to the ground with a giant squeal. At least it has a stronger voice than its master, he thought as he cleaved the brown flesh of the thing that Pit had once told him was called a horse.

Its insides flowed to the ground with a satisfying hiss as blood spurted into the air and covered the front of Lark's body. It was warm and comfortable like the moment that a small orc baby was born. Lark felt joy and happiness at receiving the four legged one's life blood. He would not wash himself for a few days to let the pleasure sit in his nose.

He picked up a heap of the creature's insides and began to feast. The others would soon be finished with their task of searching for more tracks and then he would share this feast, but for now it was his chance to enjoy this on his own.

Lark, Pit said a short while later removing Lark from his ecstasy for a moment, There were a few tracks near the edge of the forest where we saw the human the first time, what do you want to do?

Pit was much more intelligent than most orcs and that was why Lark liked him so much. Probably if he had chosen another orc for his second then they wouldn't have thought to check that far away from this position. Lark would have had to have ordered them himself, which would have been a waste of his time. Lark was glad that he had Pit. It would be a pity if he got out of hand and needed to be disemboweled or something similar, but Lark was ready for that as well.

Pit glanced at the four legged creature, which Lark had been reaching into up to his elbows to find the tastiest parts.

It is yours to enjoy, little Pit, Lark said as he kicked the beast to let a little of the remaining blood to squirt out.

Lark knew that Pit was particularly partial to the taste of these creatures’ flesh and it would be good to reward him for his hard work. One could not be too harsh with one's followers all the time.

Pit bent down and began to feast on the creature's skin with his bare fangs. It was exciting to watch Pit work the skin from the beast with his claws and teeth and for a moment Lark thought about joining him.

No, I must be firm with myself, he thought as he turned to where the troops were taking part in eating the flesh of the human. It would be good to be moving soon. If Pit had been lucky enough to find the tracks of something that knew the way to one of the humans' villages and could be followed safely enough to take the orc pack to it then it was likely that they could all enjoy much more than this later on.

Lark waited for a time, allowing his pack to feast for a time, while he contemplated what he would do next when he found a worthy human to become his drinking cup. Time passed and, finally, he saw that some of his pack was becoming satisfied, so he bellowed for their attention.

Heads turned to him as he stared harshly at them with his burning red eyes. They moved from their food and stood before him. Pit was covered with an outstandingly large amount of gore considering the short time that he had to enjoy himself. That one certainly can eat, he thought to himself.

He gave his orders quickly. Two of the pack ran off at a sprint into the forest to located the tracks and begin following whatever or whoever might have made them. The rest of the pack lopped off behind Lark as he led the way back towards where they had first seen the man sitting on his horse.

*****

The scouts where able to find the tracks easily. Pit and Lark squinted in the weakening sunlight at the small tracks in front of them.

It could be one of the small ones, Lark said as he looked down at the small sets of tracks they could see imprinted clearly in the earth of the forest floor.

Perhaps, Pit replied thoughtfully as he bent down to smell the earth around the prints. Although I would say a small female by the scent and the depth of the print. A lightly built one, I think.

Pit was the best tracker in the pack and Lark had learned to trust in his opinion. If he was right and it was a human female that would mean there might be some of the small ones that the white pasty females gave birth to. Also, where there were females there were males as well.

Lark stood with eagerness in his movements. Where there were females there were males. This could mean that he might find one to take the place of his lost cup.

The excitement was electrifying and Lark could feel the edge of his face curl up in to a sneer. He would soon have his wish and he was eager to get underway.

Raising his armored fist, he gave the signal to move onward.

*****

The scouts occasionally came in to give him reports. None of them had seen anything so far, but he was certain that the tracks would soon lead them to something of interest to him.

Pit ran at his side. Lark was certain that it would not be long. He was drooling from the edges of his mouth at the thought of finding a human settlement and he could barely hold back his excitement.

Finally, one of the scouts sprinted back to him from the forest and gave him the report that he had been so strongly waiting to hear.

It was only a short distance ahead of their position and it was everything that Lark had hoped for and more.

The tracks had led them to a small fort in the woodlands with fields growing various types of foods that the humans liked to eat. The fort was medium sized and had wooden log walls that ended in sharp wooden spikes that would impale anyone trying to get over the wall and would slow most attackers.

Lark could see humans of all shapes and sizes moving around within the small compound of buildings inside the area surrounded by the protective walls. They looked like they felt safe and secure and Lark could see a number of humans moving about the outside of the walls working on the fortifications.

This was probably a new settlement. Most of the settlements that Lark had raided in the past few years had been reasonably careful when moving outside of the walls and there was always a large number of soldiers in the area protecting the food tenders as they went about their work in their dirty little fields.

This would be easy pickings for the pack to take. Strangely, Lark felt a sense of disappointment about that. He had expected a little more of a challenge and it was a shame to see that thing would be so easy for him.

Lark guessed that in recent years raiding had become a bit easier as the humans focused their armies on the northern orcs, who were creating a lot more problems than the southern tribes, and Lark felt a strong sense of envy for those hardy orcs of the north who were having so much fun and excitement at the humans' expense. Lark could not remember the last time they had had a decent war in the southern tribes’ lands and he knew that the elders often looked on the younger generations with a sense of shame at their weakness in not being able to invoke the wraith of the humans, goblins, elves or any other race that inhabited the lands nearby.

Lark knew that it wasn't his fault, but he deeply felt the shame of not being able to take part in the glorious game of warfare that was such a big part of his race's culture and history.

I will have to take my anger out on this small community, he thought as his axe tightened around the hilt of his big weapon.

He quickly called in all of the members of his pack and gave orders for them to form up and be ready for the signal to attack. The pack members were all experienced warriors, so in little time at all - but still too long for one such as Lark - they were in position and ready to attack.

He took one last look at the forts defenses and then clenched his fist and pumped it forward in front of him in the air. The warriors of his group moved forward quickly across the several hundred paces of the space between the front gates and the forest.

No one cried out yet as they did not wish to startle their prey as the moved in for the kill. In the moments it took them to sprint the distance to the gates only two humans noticed their approach. Unfortunately for the humans inside, these two were the gate guards and were well away from the little signal bell they used when an attack came their way.

Lark was first through the gate and quickly raced to draw first blood. A small woman walked in to his vision as she rounded the corner of the small building that he was running past. She looked up in surprise as he swung his axe with casual ease and lopped off her head.

The head with its shocked expression passed through the air with a soundless scream and Lark quickly slipped out his free hand and plucked it from the air to spin in midstride and hold it up so that the pack members behind him could see the prize he had won. First blood was his and the honor would go towards keeping the others under his control.

He threw the head at the nearest human solider, who turned in shock and surprise to see an orc in the compound that these humans thought could protect them from the dangers of the outside world.

Unfortunately for the soldier, some of the dangers of the world were cleverer than the simple beasts that humans seemed to put some much stock in fearing and Lark, being one of them one of them, found that it was all too easy to slice through this one and the one standing behind him.

He could finally hear the bells being rung up on the walls. Pit would put an end to that shortly, as was his job, but for now it only added to the excitement of the moment.

Lark twirled in a dance of death that went on and on and on. Blood spewed from gaping wounds that showed glittering muscles split by the sharp blade of his trusty axe and weapons fell to the ground as human warriors lost their will and turned to flee at the sight of such a powerful opponent carving his way towards them.

It took only moments for Lark to kill several of the human soldiers and to cut aside the wasted flesh of the small and female humans that he felt little interest in.

Things were going very well until Lark heard the sound of heavy footsteps running through the gate on the other side of the small fort.

Looking around in concern, he saw dozens of soldiers in glistening silvery armor and carrying well-cared for weapons bursting through the gap. Where did they come from? he thought.

There wasn't any time to think. Lark knew that the pack would be easily over run by the number of forces moving through the small gap of the gates and so with a loud whistle he gave the order to retreat over the walls and run for the woods. There was no shame in retreating when you saw that the odds had turned too far in the enemy’s favor. A smart leader would retreat to a place where he could get the upper hand and then triple his punishment and mutilation of the enemy at that time.

The soldiers were flowing in more quickly than Lark would have imagined possible. There seemed to be much more humans than such a small fort could possibly maintain as a guard force. Something was definitely wrong and as Lark ran towards the walls he realized that the strange colorful symbol that the ugly creatures wore was different in some way from the ones that were worn by the ones in the fort.

It didn't matter to him what the humans wore, but on a whim he raced towards the lead soldier and punched him square in the front of his helmet.

The face guard bent inwards and Lark could hear a satisfying squelching sound as what was underneath broke and bent inwards. He pushed the man backwards into the oncoming forces and yanked on the front of his tunic, tearing a large chunk of the symbol from his chest as he did so.

With the stolen symbol in one hand and his axe in the other, he quickly turned and sprinted towards the small set of stairs that had been built to allow the humans easy access to the wall above him.

Lark couldn't see any of the other orcs, except one weakling that had fallen to the rush of soldiers coming through the gate, so he assumed they had everyone had already left. Moving as fast as he could, he rushed up the stairs and, only taking the time to chop in half what looked to be the leader of the wall's defenses, he leapt over the edge of the wall and landed a few feet away on the hard earth of the ground under the wall.

Everywhere he looked he could see soldiers fighting with his pack members. There seemed to be hundreds of them in the area and Lark couldn't believe that his forces hadn't noticed such a large force of the disgusting human fighters in the area.

Lark pushed through the fighting and found himself fighting for his life against dozens of well armed opponents. The pack immediately formed up around him and he ordered them into the eagle formation, which looked much like the end of a spear head.

Taking the lead, he pushed forward with great swipes of his axe as the other members of the pack fought on either side with equal ferocity. They would need to survive this, he knew. There were too many humans for this to be a small group of passing fighters. Whoever these soldiers were they were more than a small defensive or raiding force and they were skilled.

It was an exciting fight and one that Lark hated to see end, but in short time they had pushed through the humans in their way and were on the run. Half the pack were lying dead and dying on the ground behind them and Lark didn't really bother to look back. The ones who had fallen were too weak to fight and deserved their deaths.

Running into the woods, which were thick with human soldiers, Lark felt a sense of excitement. This must be the war that the southern orcs had waited for so long for and he was the one who would get the honor of announcing it. It was a truly wonderful day in his opinion and his carnivorous grin made him even more the more fearful opponent for those he faced on his way forward away from the fort.

FOR HONOR

They had out run the cavalry, but had been caught by