The Spirits Have Blessed Them

A very short piece I wrote for my application to the Red Blades. I can't say I'm practised in writing about orcs but I enjoyed the challenge, and hope it's of some interest!

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'Two,' the male orc grunted, folding his arms and looking down at the pile of skins where his mate sat, with her mother's mother - an old wizened orc - at her side. The female's skin was a sickly colour, and her eyes were tired: it had been a difficult birth, an early birth, and the two orc pups that the grandmatron held provided the answer as to why.

'Two,' crooned the old she-orc in agreement, bending her head to look down at the mewling newborns.

The male was quiet a moment, looking down at his mate, and then thumped his fist against the doorpost of the hut. Growling, he turned and ducked through the entrance without a word.

Looking up at the female, the grandmatron shook her head slowly, her necklace of buzzard claws clattering in the silence. 'I am sorry, Ragha. But it is better that we do this thing quickly.' Ragha nodded, weakly, and the old she-orc helped her to her feet while shouting for her granddaughter's mate.

As the three walked toward the small stream that curved beside the camp, Ragha's head was a mess of exhaustion. She leaned against the grandmatron's shoulder as they paused by the river. She had come near death during the birth, her first birth. And she knew the customs; it had been so ever since they had lived as they did now, wandering the land and scraping for resources, never knowing when an attack might come. But still...

Ragha looked up, squinting, into the midday sun. 'You are the blood of my blood,' she whispered: the words she would have said in the ritual, after her mate had accepted the cub as his own. But not this time, for pups born in pairs were too small and too weak, and the tribe might have to move again soon.

She heard the voice of the tribe's shaman who had come up to join them, dry and raspy, for he was an orc with more years than even the grandmatron. 'Agrok, Ragha. It is time.'

Ragha closed her eyes, holding the pups to her for a moment. A male and a female. So small, and yet so likely to claim her life if they were allowed to live. The orc took a deep breath and then looked up, knowing that she would have to let Agrok her mate take them from her and step into the water of the stream.

And then the ancient shaman raised a hand, and with a guttural sound he pointed to the sky. He was a strange figure, wearing a wolf-hide over his back with the head of the wolf covering his own, and all three orcs immediately looked where he had motioned. A pair of ravens splashed dark against the blinding disk of the sun, diving toward those gathered by the stream. In what seemed a dance of nature, they winged in circles downward to at last rest on the shaman's shoulders, their beaks parting in the harsh cries of their kind. The shaman had been a large orc in his youth, and though wrinkled was still broad of shoulder, but even so the great dark birds seemed to dwarf him: and yet he made no outcry, but was silent for a moment as the ravens pecked at the wolf-head.

Then he looked up, and his eyes met Agrok's. 'It is a fortunate day, Agrok Hammerhand. This omen is for you, and for your seed.'

The ravens gave a shrill cry, then, and winged upwards as they had come, disappearing into the harsh glare of the sun, and Ragha felt her heart lifting with them even in her weakened state. She looked questioningly toward the shaman, who bent to the earth to pick up a black feather that had been left behind.

'The spirits have blessed your children,' he said simply, and Agrok nodded. If the spirits had chosen to spare his offspring, then he was grateful. And so, taking the squirming pups from his mate, he stepped forward with her into the stream.

'I acknowledge this male as my own, to be raised in my house, under my protection,' the male said in a strong, loud voice, holding up the first cub above the waters of the stream between firm hands. 'And I acknowledge this female as my own, to be raised in my house, under my protection,' he said, as he did the same with the second.

'Blood of my blood, be welcome,' said Ragha, taking both of the pups back into her arms and cradling them to her breast. She looked sideways to exchange a smile with her mate, as far overhead, a pair of ravens winged dark against the sun.

It's stuff like this that makes me wish I could have an alt of every race.. Well done Valey!

Ooooh, that's lovely.
And how fitting, I just today got my half-orc back on Horde.

Ahahahahha.. *runs naked through topic* Mine, mine, mine!

Anywhoo. Loved this story ,_, And the character! The story goes to show a depth of orc society that few care about, and I really think you wrote it down insanely well.

Thank you, all three of you, you're so damn nice.

And Morg to be honest I just read the wiki article on orcs << And dragged in a few things about the Blackfeet tribe of American Indians (abandoning twins as a matter of course, for one, and having a thing for ravens) because they seemed to fit! But I had fun putting it all together.