Gyda Lionrock thinks her visit to Asclan Peak is for one reason and one reason alone-to procreate and finally welcome that child of her own. She could have never guessed she would also leave something behind inside the mountains, but it was her hear...
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"Follow the path up the mountain," the orc commanded in a clipped tone. His deep, low, hoarse voice caused shivers to run over my spine. "Then enter the first cave."
Even though I was scared, I still couldn't look away from him, finally having the chance to observe an orc at close hand.
His skin had a different shade than that of the other orcs I'd seen before. Maybe their skin came in all kinds of colors? Human skin was unique, so why wouldn't theirs be too? This orc was grayish brown and severely scarred. His bare arms were under scratches and lumps and bumps.
I raised my head, looking up at his tall physique. Broad chest, wide shoulders, thick neck. His face was asymmetrical, his jaw square and his nose stump and crooked. He wasn't very pleasing to the eye. I even dare say that he was quite hideous instead. But his face was surprisingly scar-free and smooth, except for a bit of hair growing around his thin lips.
His facial decoration was called a beard, or so I'd learned in school. It was something that was most common among men, although my sisters always told me that our grandmother had a stinging beard as well. I couldn't remember that myself, as my grandma had died when I was only three years old.
This orc possessed a shiny black beard, braided below his chin and adorned with a small silver bead at the end of the thin braid. His beard seemed soft and not stingy at all.
My eyes then followed a trail to his black as coal irises and I found him looking at me with narrowed eyes.
He softly growled before he ordered: "Walk along, woman."
"O-oh," I answered, not able to find any other words.
"Of course. Thank you, sir," Amira replied before she hooked her arm into mine and pulled me with her.
I looked over my shoulder one last time. The orc, however, paid us no further attention as he'd moved on to the next woman in line.
"Gosh, Gyda! You dared to blatantly gape at the man with an open mouth!" She said when we were far enough out of reach for the orc to hear us. She still held onto my arm. "So shameless." She chuckled.
"That was so intense," I whispered before taking a large inhale of breath and exhaling again. "Weren't you scared?"
Amira seemed to be calmer than I was feeling at the moment.
"That was you being scared?" she asked. "You didn't seem to be afraid."
"Oh, I was," I answered.
"I think you maybe mean...fascinated instead?" she giggled.
If my mother would see me like this, she would be very, very disappointed. Giggling over meeting an orc? Disgraceful!
"That too..." I admitted. I've always been fascinated by orcs and the few known tales about them. Maybe it was because there was a taboo and mystery about them. "But I was also scared. My heart is pounding in my throat!" I touched my neck and felt it beating against my fingertips. "Isn't yours?"
