Random Encounters: Orc Chief

Chapter 2: Bravery

"There we go," she said, pouring the last of the boiling water into the wooden tub. "Now it's still a little hot so give it a few minutes before-"

Rogmug was naked.

She quickly averted her gaze as he made his way past. She mostly avoided her gaze. A quick peek. She spied a hint of his solid rear as he lowered himself into the scalding water.

"Mmmm," he moaned, closing his eyes and sinking deeper.

"Here, let's get that arm stitched up." She strained to lift his relaxed arm onto the side of the tub. "Shit, this looks bad. There's all kinds of filth in the wound. Hold on." She retrieved a nearby bottle of dwarven spirits. She poured a generous amount on a clean scrap of cloth and handed Rogmug the bottle. "Drink up, this next part won't feel great."

"Heh, maybe for a human but-"

He muffled a yelp as she dabbed the cloth inside his wound. It took several minutes before it was thoroughly cleaned. It took several more minutes to stitch as the needles kept breaking against his skin.

"There," she said, inspecting the wound closely, "that should avoid any infections and heal up nicely."

"No one told me healing magic was so painful." He unclenched his fist and released a relieved sigh.

She chuckled. "That wasn't magic. Just something mom and dad taught me. They were battle medics in the Felis Wars."

"Healer and warrior both?" Rogmug looked at her in awe. "I would like to meet them!"

She frowned and sullenly shook her head.

"Ah, death in glorious battle."

"They were killed in an ambush. And the Felis still control the North. Nothing glorious about it." She sighed. "They're gone and died for nothing."

"You are not nothing."

"What?"

"You are not nothing. Their glory lives on through you." He stood up and put his massive hand on her shoulder. "You have their healing magic and warrior spirit. You honor them, as I honor my forebears by crushing my enemies skulls. I just try make less enemies now."

She smiled. "Well, again, it's not magic. And I'd hardly say I have a warrior's spirit."

"You drank with the big scary orcs."

"You're not so scary," she said with a smirk.

"Oh no?" He raised his arms and flexed every muscle in his body. Every single part of him bulged with masculine energy. His broad shoulders. His perfectly cut slabs of pecks. His rock-hard abs. His massive cock.

"Oh gods," she yelped, backing away, realizing that thing was eye level with her this entire time.

"Hahaha! The ale bringer jests! You're not actually scared!" he said, placing his hands on his hips, drawing further attention to the beast.

"No, no, just, heh, sit back down. I'll wash your back."

He gave a self-satisfied grunt and slipped back into the tub as she fetched the soap from a footlocker at the foot of the bath. She made her way behind him and worked up a lather. She rubbed soap on his beefy traps and over his shoulders. They were rock hard and full of knots. With great effort, she dug her thumb in and worked out a few of them.

"Ohhhhh!" said Rogmug with a twitch. "More healing magic! This feels good!"

"Well, I'd guess that smashing doors and getting stabbed gets you quite tense. Just relax." She liked the way her soapy hands slid over his taut skin. It was rough and covered in scars but didn't feel coarse like she'd expected. She pushed her elbow into his back and became the first person to make an orc purr like a cat.