Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Brothers	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1830 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 30
- 31
- 32
Chapter Thirty-One – Foster Conway, Age 22
His growing bond with his orc companions was getting harder to hide. So they changed tactics and played on Percy's misinterpretation. Foster pretended to be submissive around the male orcs, which infuriated Arthur and disgusted Percy. His owner's anger was short lived though once he figured out he hadn't lost his best fighter. Foster had yet to lose a battle in the cage matches he was subjected too.
"That's our Foster for you," Arthur said on their way home from one of the bouts. "Knows when to bend over and submit and when to stand up and roar." Foster remained quiet nursing his sore shoulder. It had been dislocated, Jasper had forced it back in place but bruising had already started.
"That ogre almost had you," Jasper said, offering him an ice pack.
"I've never seen such a creature," Foster said. "Two heads? How is that even possible? I will not be excited to get into a cage with that monster again."
"Then you should have killed it when you had a chance," Arthur said. "Your tendency for mercy is going to get you killed one of these days."
"I was taught to respect all living things," Foster said. "They don't want to be in that pit any more than I do." Any replies were cut short by the approaching drumming of horses' hooves. At Jasper's command Foster laid down and let a blanket be thrown over him. Through the wool he listened as the horses pulled alongside the wagon.
"Halt in the name of Stromgarde!" A man commanded.
Arthur pulled up the reins. "Evening Captain," he said. "Is there something amiss? We are just returning from getting supplies."
"A little late for that isn't it?" A soldier asked.
"We're harvesting," Arthur replied, "our daylight hours are better spent than on the road."
"So you haven't been to the Hamilton's this evening?"
That was exactly where they had been. "Hamilton … those are the folks to the east a bit ain't they? Nope can't say we've been there …" Arthur lied.
"Did something happen?" Jasper asked as he leaned on the blanket hiding Foster.
"Rumor is that they are housing an ogre for illegal duels …" the captain started.
"An ogre!" Jasper shouted. "Whoo-wee, I ain't never seen an ogre before … though I heard talk of them gathering. Are we in any danger?"
"Not while you're under the protection of Stromgarde," the soldier replied.
Foster wondered what would happen if he sat up. He was being held against his will as a citizen of Lordaeron. But the two brands he now bore may have more power than his voice and there were the orcs, no human would help him free them. So he stayed where he was, biting his lip as Jasper pressed down on his sore shoulder. The soldiers rode off after a few more words, a short time later the blanket was lifted and he was allowed to sit up. He had never been told the duels he participated in were illegal, he assumed by the sheer number of spectators everyone knew about them.
They arrived at the homestead and Foster hopped down, favoring his shoulder. He'd already had dinner so he walked over to the cellar door and waited. "Eager for your green cock, huh?" Jasper laughed as he indicated for Foster to open the steel door.
"Eager to sleep," Foster said as he worked the locking bar, "the wheat is ready to be threshed and winnowed tomorrow."
"So obedient," Jasper said motioning him to jump down. "You were the best fifty gold we ever spent."
Foster ducked as the door slammed shut and into the waiting arms of his orc family. Nignath's touch took away the throbbing pain. Kobug offered him a canteen of warm water, which he drank thirstily.
"How did it go?" Skang asked, taking the canteen and hiding it behind some rocks.
"I fought an ogre," Foster replied. "I've never seen such a brute. It had two heads that seemed independent from each other. They were constantly bickering which gave me the edge. I fear if they force me to fight another I won't walk away from it. I'm glad out of the two of us, this is my lot. My baby brother would have never survived."
"If he is anything like you," Nignath said, "he would have endured, but I too am happy that he does not share this fate. This life will eventually bend the strongest will."
"Our spirits may be bent, Sister," Foster said, "but they are far from broken."
"Lok'tar!" The three of them said in unison.
Foster smiled. "Let us get some rest, I'm tired." He took his customary place between Kobug and Nignath and fell into a dreamless slumber.
Morning came too early, and blurry eyed Foster stumbled out of the cellar the next morning and knelt down at the pump. As Kobug worked the handle, Foster caught the cool water in his hands and after taking a drink splashed the rest over his face. As Nignath headed to the house to start on breakfast the men had their ankles shackled together.
Foster led them over to where the wheat had been had been stored to cure. Taking his thumbnail he pressed down on a kernel, it was hard and he was unable to dent it. "It's ready," he told Percy standing nearby.
"Then get to it," the man said.
Instructing the orcs to gather up bundles of wheat they shuffled outside. Taking an old bed sheet they had been given for this purpose, Foster laid it out flat. Careful not to step on the sheet or drag an orc onto it he placed a bundle of wheat near the center. Gathering the corners of the cloth, he wrapped it loosely around the wheat stalks. Then he tied a corner to make a bag over the seed heads. Using both of his hands to pound it against the ground, he knocked loose the kernels from the plant. After doing that several minutes he untied the sheet and carefully spread it out. Removing the stalks he was left with wheat kernels on the sheet. At this point the orcs moved in to help, each grabbing a corner with Foster ending up with two. They carefully made the wheat kernels bounce on the sheet by moving it up and down. They continued winnowing until nothing was left on the cloth but the wheat kernels. The chaff was light and blown away by the wind. Afterwards they gathered up the wheat and put it in a nearby bucket.
"One down," Foster said as he reached for the next bundle, "only a hundred more to go."
They were on their tenth when Percy allowed them to take a short break for breakfast. They were served bowls of watered down oatmeal and weak ale.
After Nignath collected their dishes and headed to the house, the men went back to threshing and winnowing. They took turns pounding the wheat into the ground. It was nearing noonday meal when the sound of an approaching wagon reached their ears. The legitimacy of his bounds was once again questioned when Percy ushered the three of them out of sight behind the barn. Once there he unshackled Foster from the others and led him to the cellar, where he was motioned to get inside. Once the door was locked Foster was left alone in the silence.
The time dragged on with only his growling stomach for company. The canteen they kept stashed away had a swallow left which he drank. The silence was broken by the sound of shouting and then gun fire. Foster leapt up and stared helplessly at the door. What had happened would crying out help or hamper? The silence returned and Foster paced the tiny cell, waiting. After an eternity the door opened and he looked up expectantly. The dark sky told him hours had passed. Percy motioned for him to come out. The older man had a worried look about him. Foster was led over to the tarp and secured underneath it. He looked around. "Where are the orcs?" he asked.
"The whore is in the kitchen getting your dinner," Percy replied.
"The others?" Foster asked unable to hide his concern.
"Already missing your cocks, eh?" Percy said.
"The orcs males were returned to the internment camp to the East where they escaped from," Arthur said as he approached. The older man was livid. "Because some IDIOT thought it would be okay to leave the orcs out to finish the wheat. By the Light what were you thinking? I couldn't tell those Stromgarde soldiers they were mine; they would have wanted to see the paperwork I don't own. I can't believe this … I'm down two hands in the middle of harvest season. It will be your back out there breaking alongside his, Percy!"
"Sorry, Sir," Percy said meekly. "You could let the orc whore work the fields, she has a strong back."
"Cooking takes a woman's touch," Arthur growled. "The green wench can cook, no she stays where she is."
"Internment camp …" Foster said, "will they be treated fairly?"
Arthur chuckled. "It will make here look like a holiday."
Foster sighed. The men walked away still bickering when Nignath appeared, she knelt down in front of him with a bowl of porridge. "I put some pork in it," she said. "They were too busy to notice." Foster saw her emerald cheeks were damp with tears and reached up to brush them away.
"I'm so sorry." He said. "I heard shots, were they okay?"
"Skang was injured in the shoulder but it didn't look to be life draining," she said. "Kobug knows some mending; they will be okay … won't they?"
"They are strong," Foster said, "they will be … and you will see them again."
"In this life or my next?" she asked sadly.
"This one," Foster said reaching across and taking her hand. "I swear to you."
- 30
- 31
- 32
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Brothers