This Week's Writing Challenge: "It was big, green, and decidedly unfriendly... or was it"

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A young man is kidnapped by some thugs to be returned to his blood family
But he prefers the family that raised him. The thugs are held up in some old cabin, to make their stand.

Continuation in a way of this: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/38375014/

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Captive


It was an old cabin, deep in the woods. The small band of men had been using it as a sort of base for a couple nights now. Animal skins littered the place and the skeleton of an orc lay in the bed. They tossed the bones out back and cleared the space. Judging from the junk laying around the place, he was an old trapper, died in his sleep. There was no evidence even bandits ever touched the place. The men who were here now had only the fireplace lit. One of the men sat on a crude bench on the front porch, smoking on a pipe. We was the leader, the oldest of the men. He was the first the captive saw as three other men dragged him through the forest.

The older man ripped the bag over the frail body. He was lithe, pale. His white hair had been perfumed, like it had just been cleaned. He was dressed very well in clothes that looked to have never been worn before. He was dressed like a noble. The men started calling him princess for this. He was quickly tied to a chair in the middle of the room. The captive didn't struggle much. The old man preferred these kinds of people. Made the job easy. They were in the middle of nowhere and covered their tracks well.

The young man spoke to them in Orcish, which they didn't understand. Though hearing such a language used by such a feminine little human caused the men to laugh. The old man sat in front of the captive, blowing smoke into his face. It caused his weak lungs to heave and cough.

"Now boy, I know you speak with our tongue." He said, calmly.

The Princess stared daggers at him, "You've made a mistake taking me here."

The old man signaled the others to stop laughing at his accent, "Did we interrupt some Orc party?" He said, pulling of the suit the small man wore.

"A wedding."

The old man smiled, "Didn't know Orc married." He took another puff of his pipe, "Now, who's orc wedding needs to invite a human, hmm?"

"Mine." The captive scowled.

The men in the cabin shared a chuckle.

The old man sneered, "Guess you got cold feet, huh?"

The captive spat at him something Orcish.

The old man grabbed him by the throat, "Don't speak that ugly language or I'll give you a face to match it!"

There was a scream, somewhere distant outside. The men inside looked towards it. The old man signaled to the windows and the two men in the house became alert, armed with crossbows.

"Looks like you were followed." The captive said in a mocking tone.

The door was thrown open, a man brandishing a sword lunged into the room, closing the door behind him.

"They got Knives and Archer." He was out of the breath, an arrow was lodged into his thigh. The captive knew who's arrow. There was a tell. A flower was tied beside the feather. His favorite. A message to him.

"This man is only alive as a warning, you know." The captive said, leering at the small group by the door.

"Shut him up!" The old man yelled to one of the others as he tended to the wound.

The captive grinned, "One by one." One of the bowmen shoved a ball of cloth into his mouth before he could continue talking.

"How many?" The old man said to the wounded mercenary.

The man howled as the arrow was pulled from him, "I don't know! I didn't see anyone!"

"Damn orcs." The old man said as the wounded man was dragged towards the fire.

"What do we do?" One of the bowmen asked.

The old man lit his pipe, thinking.

"We give them what they want." He grabbed an axe that was hung on the wall. He walked over to the captive, grabbing him by the bun he had tied his hair into. Undoing the braids and work someone had clearly spent the whole day working with, cutting off most of it from his head. He walked over to the door, throwing it open and tossing the mass of hair onto the dirt below.

He took a deep breath, "This man comes home with us whole, or back to you in pieces." he yelled to the woods, "Your choice."

Sensing no movement he continued, "I'll be leaving a scar on him for every man of mine you killed. This is payment." He backed into the cabin, closing the door behind him.

He eyed the others, "Board the windows. No ways in or out."

"Sir? What are we doing?"

"Kid's important. They won't wait long." The old man said, grabbing the captive by his hair. With a dagger from his belt, he cut across the captive's face. He screamed into his gag. After he ripped the nice suit, cutting him again on his chest.

"There, they'll know I'm not unwilling to harm him on our way home." The old man cleaned his blade on the prisoner's new clothes.

With the windows covered with any furniture laying around, the room was now clear, with only the captive tied to a chair, his face bleeding onto himself. They were lit only by the fireplace. The only entrance was the door, which the men watched with swords drawn and crossbows ready.

They waited some time.

There was a knock at the door. One of the men looked out through a crack in the window.

"It's just some old orc. Doesn't look armed." The bowman said.

The old man grinned, "See? Maybe they've got some sense in 'em." He opened the door to find the old orc, bent over a cane.

"Here to talk?"

The orc nodded, "I want to see him." The orc spoke clearly, better than some humans.

The human opened the door enough to show the old orc the captive in the center of the room. The small human and the orc shared a glance.

"His family wants him returned alive." The man spoke as the door closed, "Unharmed is a bonus."

The old orc cleared is throat, "Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?"

"We don't bargain with orcs."

The orc frowned, "Then tell me, precisely what are your demands?"

"Safe passage through the woods, and no more harm will befall him," He gestured towards the closed door, "We even think we see an orc out there and he starts losing parts."

The orc nodded, "I do have a counter-offer if you'll be so kinda as to indulge an old orc."

"Fine, what is it?" The man laughed.

The old man tapped the cane onto the ground, habitually, "That man in there, who's face you just carved. He is my son."

"He is no son of yours." The man interjected.

"If I am not mistaken you agreed to hear my offer, I will accept no more interruptions! Or are you not a man of your word!?"

"Apologies, continue." The man said, frustrated.

The orc cleared his throat, tapping on the floor again, "I am an not known for being merciless. I am a tradesman, not unlike yourself." He nodded, "Now, give me back my son and I can allow your men to walk home."

"You already killed two of mine."

The orc shook his head, lifting his fingers. In the edge of the clearing, two orcs ushered forward the missing mercenaries. They were injured, but not fatally.

"We know you are only doing as you were paid to." The orc said, "Again, a business I understand. Honestly, we expected as such."

"Is this your deal?"

The orc nodded, "It's not unreasonable."

"I'm sorry, but we don't bargain with orcs."

The old orc sighed, "Very well." He tapped on the porch floor twice. The door opened, a large female orc stepped out, pulling one of the men out with her. The rest followed. The old human stepped back, pulled a knife out and was quickly pinned to the wall by the old orc.

The orc shook his head, "This house has many secrets. It is the final resting place of an albeit misanthropic orc, but crafty." He pulled the human out into the clearing. He glimpsed into the building. Trap doors on the floor were being placed back into their slots as the captive was being healed on the bed. Another orc was sitting at the frail human's side. The humans were all still armored and their weapons lay on the ground beside them. They were surrounded. The old orc looked down at them, grimly.

"We aren't barbarians, nor are were merciless warmongers." The old orc said, "However, the orc that man in there was to marry. He's very upset. I am, too. Which is why we've come to an arrangement."

The old orc gestured towards their gear, "At sunrise he alone will come for you. Talk him down as I might, the groom-to-be is very cross with you all for ruining his special day." He laughed, "Good luck." He then walked briskly towards the house. The men looked at each other, confused. One by one they looked at the sky, seeing the hue of it lighten, they knew their time was short. They grabbed their gear and ran into the woods.

Inside the cabin, Grak was being healed by one of the healers. His large fiance, Nagrub was sitting beside him, holding his hand.

"I gave them a head start." The old Rorrek said, "They think it's a mercy."

Grak tried to sit up, "Shame I won't get to see you in action." He squeezed his orc's hand.

"Oh, you're hear the legends of it." He grinned, "Might even name this area of woods after it."

"After what?" Grak replied.

"Whatever monster could have butchered them in such a way."

"You know. I think I saw a glipse of it. Barely got away." Grak grinned.

"Oh? You did huh?" Nagrub stood up, looking at the sun rise.

"It was big, green, and decidedly unfriendly."

"You couldn't be more correct, my love." The orc leaned down to kiss his human fiance before heading out the door.