Peasants!

Garth leaned on his axe, looked up at the tree, looked at the sun,
then decided that it was high time for his lunch break. He laid his axe
aside, sat himself down on the stump of a tree, then opened his lunch
box and looked inside. As it happened, the love of his life had chosen
some fresh bread and a nice bit of sausage for his lunch. Again. With
a sigh, he closed the box. He’d save it for later when his hunger could
do it proper justice. Instead, he drank from his water bottle.

While his eyes were turned upward, there was a loud crash, which made
him look round, startled. Oh dear. The person that had just entered the
little clearing was not one of his mates. He cleverly deduced that from
the green skin, the great tusks and… the smell.

“This tree belongs to the Horde! Keep your filthy hands off, or
you’ll regret it!”

Garth raised an arm and made a gesture that included the whole of the
forest.

“Be my guest. Apart from this stump I’m sitting on, blow yourself
out. It’s my lunch break.”

“Pah! You’re not going to fight me, then? Coward!”

“Nope,” said Garth. “Fighting the forces of evil is the business of
warriors, paladins and suchlike. Me, I just fell my appointed number of
trees, slog the things off to the town hall, and that’s me done.
Besides, I’m having lunch.”

“Hah. Enjoy it, Human maggot, it may well be your last.”

“Not likely. Been having nothing but bloody sausage and flat bread
all week. Why did I tell Mavis that I liked it?” Garth looked up.
“Grub any good at your end?”

“The hand of our Master feeds us man-flesh, Human!”

Garth gave him a weary look. “Oh, give it a rest. Do you guys really
have to keep up that Legions of Doom act every hour of the night or
day?”

The Orc stared, then suddenly, he laughed. “It’s traditional. If we
don’t, people think we’re sissies.” He looked at Garth. “Mind you, I et
man-flesh once. After one of those big battles. We won. Happy faces all
round, and the cooks wanted to make something special, and there were
all these dead warriors lying about the place. So I tried someone’s
fore-arm. No offense mate, but you guys don’t exactly taste like
chicken if you catch my drift. Give me a nice bit of pork in honey
any time.”

“Try a bloody Dwarf next time. They come ready marinated in ale.”

“Ugh! Now you’ve made me hungry. Lemme see.”

The Orc rummaged in his pack, and produced a food bag. His face
fell.

“Oh damn. Bloody bacon again. How’s a guy supposed to stay green and
growing if he don’t have any variety?”

“Swap you a sausage.”

“Done.”

They sat in silence, chewing each other’s lunch. Garth closed his
lunch box.

“Well, better get going again. More planks for the barracks. I
suppose once it’s finished, some of your lot’ll come and knock it down
again?”

“Yeah. Suppose so. Same for us. Still, keeps a body in work.”

“Right. If that’s a Horde tree, then this is an Alliance one.”

“Bet you another piece of bacon I get it down faster’n you.”

“You’re on.”


Copyright: © 2008,2009,2010 Menno Willemse. All rights reserved.

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