The Wild Orcs: Attack Of The Orcs

By Alfred Bekker

The Wild Orcs: Attack Of The Orcs

by Alfred Bekker

 

A great task lies ahead for Lirandil, the elven wanderer.

Mischief in Athranor In Athranor, the ancient homeland of the elves, orcs and humans live in constant war. The greatest hopes rest on Prince Candric, even though he is only ten years old. But with the help of a powerful spell, the Lord of the Orclands can exchange Candric's body for that of a young orc. Candric must now stand his ground among thrashing orcs, while at the same time the orc Rhomroor disrupts every banquet at the royal court in his body. Together with the elven warrior Lirandil, the prince and the orc travel to the City of Mirrors to break the curse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alfred Bekker
• Release date: May 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201184711

Alfred Bekker

Alfred Bekker wurde am 27.9.1964 in Borghorst (heute Steinfurt) geboren und wuchs in den münsterländischen Gemeinden Ladbergen und Lengerich auf. 1984 machte er Abitur, leistete danach Zivildienst auf der Pflegestation eines Altenheims und studierte an der Universität Osnabrück für das Lehramt an Grund- und Hauptschulen. Insgesamt 13 Jahre war er danach im Schuldienst tätig, bevor er sich ausschließlich der Schriftstellerei widmete. Schon als Student veröffentlichte Bekker zahlreiche Romane und Kurzgeschichten. Er war Mitautor zugkräftiger Romanserien wie Kommissar X, Jerry Cotton, Rhen Dhark, Bad Earth und Sternenfaust und schrieb eine Reihe von Kriminalromanen. Angeregt durch seine Tätigkeit als Lehrer wandte er sich schließlich auch dem Kinder- und Jugendbuch zu, wo er Buchserien wie 'Tatort Mittelalter', 'Da Vincis Fälle', 'Elbenkinder' und 'Die wilden Orks' entwickelte. Seine Fantasy-Romane um 'Das Reich der Elben', die 'DrachenErde-Saga' und die 'Gorian'-Trilogie machten ihn einem großen Publikum bekannt. Darüber hinaus schreibt er weiterhin Krimis und gemeinsam mit seiner Frau unter dem Pseudonym Conny Walden historische Romane. Einige Gruselromane für Teenager verfasste er unter dem Namen John Devlin. Für Krimis verwendete er auch das Pseudonym Neal Chadwick. Seine Romane erschienen u.a. bei Blanvalet, BVK, Goldmann, Lyx, Schneiderbuch, Arena, dtv, Ueberreuter und Bastei Lübbe und wurden in zahlreiche Sprachen übersetzt.

Book preview

1

Rhomroor grasped his axe with both hands. The young orc let out a growl and bared his long tusks, which always protruded a bit from his mouth anyway. Rhomroor was still a young orc and far from full-grown, but he was already stronger than even the strongest humans. With both paws he grasped the handle of the giant axe and whirled it above his head. Then, screaming wildly, he lunged at his opponent - an orc named Brox, who was a few years older. Rhomroor had known Brox since early childhood, and they had not gotten along even when they had played together in the mud pit of their tribe.

However, Brox had always defeated Rhomroor in battle. Once he had even stuck Rhomroor's head into the foul-smelling pile of a dragon lizard.

Rhomroor had not forgotten that - and today was the day of revenge. Today Brox should experience his blue miracle!

Rhomroor struck Brox with all his might. He parried with his own weapon, which he had forged himself. He called it the scythe sword, but actually it had more resemblance to a giant scythe than to a real sword.

The blade of Rhomroor's axe clanged against the metal of the scythe sword. Rhomroor uttered a piercing war cry as he did so.

Brox had to take two or three steps back.

Then Rhomroor's next strike went nowhere.

This blow had so much momentum that he almost lost his balance.

Brox took another step back. Heh, you've learned how to fight by now, kid!

Smaller.

The fact that Brox called him that made Rhomroor downright furious.

Maybe Brox even wanted this so that Rhomroor would make a mistake. It was not the first time that Brox defeated an opponent in this way.

But today everything was different. Rhomroor wrenched the axe around, let it circle above his head and then charged at his opponent again. Several blows followed in close succession and Brox could barely fend them off. He just managed to deflect these blows to the side, so that he was not simply split from top to bottom.

Rhomroor drove his opponent to the edge of the rock pulpit where they both fought. One last blow followed. Brox tried to dodge and lost his balance. Rhomroor thrust with the front of the axe, hitting his opponent on the breastplate made from the horn plates of a dragon lizard - and Brox fell to the depths with a scream.

Rhomroor stepped to the edge of the rock pulpit, from which there was a wide view over the surrounding mountains and the nearby sea. Then he looked down. Below, at the base of the rock, was a mud pit. All the orcs who settled around the orc lord's cave wallowed here regularly. And, of course, the losers of the fights that took place on the rock pulpit fell into it.

At first there was no sign of Brox down there, but then he emerged from the soft mud dripping from his clothes and armor.

I have conquered! cried Rhomroor, triumphantly stretching his axe aloft and letting out a loud howl of triumph.

Brox, on the other hand, replied with a terrible curse before he finally began to retrieve his weapons from the swamp. It was necessary to hurry with this, because otherwise they would sink so much that it would be impossible to find them. Brox spat mud out of his mouth and nostrils and growled something unintelligible. What exactly he had to say, Rhomroor did not even want to know. It was also understood that Brox was just very angry and could not get over his defeat.

The battle is decided! a deep voice stated. Rhomroor spun around.

That was Moraxx, the lord of the three orc lands.

He was a head taller than most of the other orcs. And while most of the others had only four tusks protruding from their mouths - two above and two below - Moraxx had five. Right under his nose, this fifth and longest tusk grew out of his mouth, and that alone made a big impression.

You are the winner, Rhomroor! stated Moraxx. The orc lord stepped towards Rhomroor, heavily placing one of his paws on his shoulders! Congratulations on that. I wanted the best for the extraordinary task I'm about to set you...

Rhomroor would have liked to know what kind of task this might be. But the orc lord had said nothing about it. He had only let twenty younger orcs fight each other on the rock pulpit. At first, there had been a wild melee. Some had allied for a short time and driven others together to the cliff edge, only to tear each other down afterwards.

One after the other had landed in the mud pit, until finally only Brox and Rhomroor were left.

Actually, Rhomroor had not expected to hold out so long. But when only Brox had been in his way, his ambition had completely taken hold of him.

After all, it was a great honor to be chosen for an Orc Lord task.

Rhomroor put the handle of the axe back into the leather sheath he carried on his back. He drummed his fists on the breastplate, which was made from a piece of giant scorpion armor. This produced a muffled sound. Rhomroor also sang a hoarse chant, as was customary among orcs in such a case.

What could be better than throwing an opponent into the mud?

Actually, only to jump behind and to cover the whole orc body together with the clothes once again so properly with mud, so that one looked afterwards like a clay figure. The cold mud was in any case ideally suited to calm you down a bit and to let the clear thoughts return.

All right, all right, Rhomroor! the orc lord said meanwhile. You have every reason to be proud, but don't overdo it, because the real task is still ahead of you. And believe me, it will be something completely beyond your imagination...

Uhh! Rhomroor made, gurgling out some slime from deep in his throat, which he then spat out noisily. He had not yet given much thought to the task that the orc lord had planned for him.

I'm ready for anything, Lord! said Rhomroor then, gurgling again, but Moraxx raised his paw defensively.

Enough of the respect-bearing slime! he said, and so Rhomroor swallowed back down all the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth in the meantime. Come now and follow me so we don't waste any more time.

As you wish, master! said Rhomroor obediently.

Moraxx looked out to the horizon at the sea, where the sun had by now sunk quite a bit lower. There will be a full moon this night, as I have calculated. And we must use that for the spell I have in mind for you!

2

Rhomroor followed Moraxx into the orc lord's lair. At the entrance stood two guardian orcs with long halberds and freshly bathed in mud. For the orc lord did not like it when his guards were too clean. Trust no one who smells of nothing and from whose body no dried mud crumbled off, was an old orc proverb. Not proverb, because among orcs it was common to shout proverbs, so they were called accordingly.

Torches were shining inside the cave.

They walked together through a gloomy, poorly lit corridor, then passed through a large hall-like cavern with many stalactites, where several hundred orcs were camped.

From there, another, somewhat narrower passage led to a cave to which only the orc lord himself had access. It was forbidden for all other orcs to enter it under the strictest penalty. And since Moraxx did not even trust his guards in this respect, he had put a spell on the entrance.

Moraxx himself was able to enter this private cave unmolested, but Rhomroor felt himself run into an invisible wall and bounce back. Lightning hissed as he touched this wall of magic.

Oh, sorry, I forgot I had to make sure you could enter first, too, Moraxx said. However, at least this way I know that the spell will actually work...

Rhomroor's head was spinning, because he had bumped full force against this magical barrier, which was invisible, but not necessarily soft. On the contrary!

Moraxx muttered a few words in a language that Rhomroor did not understand. Thereupon, the previously invisible wall shimmered bluish.

You can enter now, Rhomroor!

Really?

Are you a brave orc or an effeminate elven warrior who doesn't even have mud in his hair? cried Moraxx. Or even a pathetic human who's about to break every bone in his body if he ever falls off a cliff! So don't make such a fuss and be brave!

Rhomroor carefully walked through the bluish glow.

Without any problems he entered the private cave of the orc lord. It was well known that Moraxx had studied the magic of the elves extensively. Some even said that this was the real reason why he had finally managed to be recognized as lord of all three orc lands. Normally, the orcs were terrible enemies among themselves. There had been a constant war between the East and West Orcs, and the Orcs from Orkheim had sometimes taken one side and sometimes the other. This enmity was not forgotten and there were always fights now and then, but on the whole all the leaders of the orcs accepted Moraxx as their overlord. And since this was so unusual in orcish history, almost everyone believed that this could only be explained by magic.

In the center of the cave, a fire burned with a greenish flame. This alone indicated that magical forces were at work here. In one corner, several dozen books lay in a pile. Books that Moraxx had once stolen from the Far Elf Realm and from which his knowledge of magic probably came. 

Sit down! said Moraxx, pointing to the ground in front of the fire. I have gained dominion over all three orc lands, but that is not enough for me. I also want to become the master of the most important kingdom of humans, our current worst enemies.... And you shall help me in this, Rhomroor!

Me? asked Rhomroor in amazement.

You shall become the next king of Aladar's court! And with the help of the power of magic, you will succeed. Moraxx handed Rhomroor a jug containing a strong-smelling bluish liquid. Drink this, Rhomroor!

What is it?

A potion that will prepare you for the spell. Then all we have to do is wait until the full moon rises.... Or don't you dare to be a human prince who will be crowned king someday?

I don't know..., Rhomroor said cautiously.

Through the spell I will exchange your souls. Your soul will pass into the body of the human prince - and he will pass into your body. No one will suspect at first that the heir to the throne is really an orc... Moraxx laughed hoarsely and gurgled.

Rhomroor, on the other hand, was not so sure that this was really a plan he should approve of. But on the other hand, now that he had passed all the fights to be chosen as the best for this task, he could hardly back out.

Apart from that, it wouldn't have occurred to him to disobey his orc lord anyway.

Remember the name already said Moraxx. This prince's name is Candric! 

3

See those mountains there, Candric? That's the border to the lands of the hideous orcs!

Candric looked over at the mountains, whose craggy cliffs towered