Love is not pink... It's Green! (completed 33/33)

Horde of War

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LOVE IS NOT PINK... IT'S GREEN!

Chapter 29: Horde of War

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The activity in the camp was frenetic, all due to the presence of several important orcs who had come from other tribes, even from as far afield as the Tears Mountains and the Black Mountains.

Gruñilda and her orcs wore furs that they would not wear on other ordinary days, trying to impress visitors, who also wore their best furs for this type of event.

The exotic mounts also made their appearance, not only were they the usual war pigs, but they also made giant wolves and others appear, who showed their discontent of being in different places from the ones they were used to with dry grunts.

The food was also different on this day and one could appreciate varied meat, roots and various tubers, and not the ones used to the daily meals of each day.

The only thing different from an orc festival was that there was no music of any kind, and the atmosphere in general was charged with a static electricity that announced the seriousness of the situation to be treated.

"Everything that had to be said has already been said," Said an orc warlord after a sip of beer, "All the shamans of all the tribes have seen the bad omens of war. We must attack now and take advantage of the fact that there are many more between us."

"We have brought many war mounts, unlike in the past. We can defeat the elves, drive them out behind their walls," Said one warlord, with both lower fangs black and rotting.

"But we don't have things of siege," said a female orc leader, with wide hips and huge breasts, whose areolas were so large that they covered a good part of them, "if they attack us from behind while we are besieging them we will be in trouble," she said, while the silver rings on her long nipples jingled because she was kicking on the floor to attract attention.

"We shouldn't miss this opportunity," said another, spitting with each word parts of the food that had not passed through his throat and insisted on sticking to his gums. "We will have problems if the elves decide to seek alliance with the dwarves, better if we fight only with the prickly ears."

"What do you say, Gruñilda? We're counting on you to lead the advance since you know these territories better than the rest of us"

"You can count on me, Chief Krotol, and we all count on you to be a good leader for the war horde. We know that you are an extraordinary warrior and proof of this is that no one has yet claimed the position of high warlord."

The orc with much of the pig's muzzle severed, nodded as he held up a steak instead of a pint of beer as a way of saluting the words of the orc leader.

"Shamans, you heard Gruñilda. Talk to the Big Hog and tell us what he grunts and farts for us. In the meantime, let's put the snacks down and let the feast begin." Krotol got up and with his strong fingers he managed to lift several pints of beer by its handles and in one fell swoop he drank its hot, lumpy contents, or at least tried, as he actually took a hot shower with the beer.

Several shamans, all dressed in much more exotic garments than the rest of those present, nodded forcefully and began to recite enchantments of victory or throw bones that predicted luck.

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The food was served and the alcohol was plentiful, at the end all surrendered to sleep except a few, among which was the leader, who watched one of the corrals while caressing the muzzle of one of the pigs that served as a saddle.

"It was good that the saddle returned safe and sound after taking it back Fresnia to his own people," Someone said behind her, none other than Black Lips, who looked at the night stars as if she wanted to discern the message they were giving her.

"What do the other shamans say? A good war awaits us?"

"As we always predict that there will be a lot of blood and good fights, but the end is something that the Big Hog always avoids telling us clearly."

"I see, well, I guess that's to be expected. Damn you, Big Hog, I'd like to kick you in the nose for not being clearer with the visions you give to our own.... I'm sure elves don't have these kinds of problems."

"I don't think so, Gruñilda. The gods, no matter where they come from, always seem to give only hints and never show things clearly."

"What about you? Did you ever have a vision that you didn't have to interpret?"

"What the Elves are preparing for war is very clear... It was very unwise to tell the other warlords the origin of the discontent of the pointy ears."

"I couldn't hide Fresnia from them."

"Yes, I suppose you're right, it would have been found out in the end, one of the shamans would have sensed it. Well, no matter what the reason, what matters is that the Elves want war and we're going to answer them."

"Hey Black Lips..."

"What's going on?"

"Do you think Fresnia will fight us?"

The shaman sighed and then scratched her nape as if weighing up what she would say next.

"I had a vision, a clear one for a change, so now you can ask the Big Hog for forgiveness for what you said before... I see the elf in front of an altar, not one of sacrifice, but one of those that the elves know as marriage... Is that what they call it? I can't remember."

"Wedding, that's what they call it... A lifelong union that can't be broken."

"So indeed it's like an altar of sacrifice, and I think the elf felt the same way because he had a face like a pig that goes to the butcher."

Gruñilda clenched her fists to her sides and from the corner of her lips came a trickle of blood.

"I want you to do me a favor."

"Don't do it, Gruñilda, I know what you're trying to do and I'm telling you it's completely stupid."

"You know me, I was never very smart."

CONTINUARÁ...

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