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The Orc's Weapon	By : JayDee Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Morrowind Views: 1526 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Orc's Weapon
- 1
Crazy-Legs waited nervously, listening through the door as Simine bought and sold books in the shop beyond. He had his dagger, if he needed it, but if an angry party from the Fighter’s Guild came he would be overwhelmed. Turning from the wood, the Dunmer turned his red eyes on Gentleman Jim Stacey. He marvelled at his Redguard companion’s relaxed air; he could maintain his cool in any situation; the talent had been one of the sources of his nickname, along with his classy demeanour. Squinting slightly, Crazy-Legs saw he was reading a brand new copy of Crassus Curio’s latest play. Something about domestic service, he thought.
Crazy-Legs Arantamo couldn’t relax. The Morrowind Thieves Guild war with the Camonna Tong was in its final hour. Either the Orc Gro-Bura would kill their pawn at the head of the Fighter’s Guild, or the Nord would kill him – and if he did, their next stop would surely be the shop in Vivec. It had been Ahnassi from over at Pelagiad had found the Orc, he recalled; the Orc who could steal anything. The word was he'd started with the Khajiit's heart, though the theft was unintended. Theft after theft; he engaged in a crime spree of daring delicacy that left tongues wagging all over Vvardenfell. Later, Gentleman Jim himself had guided the Orc as he stole harmlessly, and then fought the Camonna Tong's enforcers far less harmlessly until only one notable enemy of the guild remained; the Nord.
The door opened inwards, crashing the Dunmer’s train of thought. Crazy-Legs started, jumping away, and reached for her dagger.. He knew it was locked. He’d locked it himself. Gentleman Jim shook his head gently, slid his book aside, and spoke without looking,
“Welcome back! I assume then that your meeting with Sjoring Hard-Heart went well?”
As the door opened fully Crazy-Legs saw it was indeed Gro-Bura. His confusion lasted for a few long seconds before he realised; neither the Camonna Tong nor the Fighter’s Guild would have bothered to pick the lock. Gro-Bura had probably done it as naturally as another would knock at a locked door.
“Killed the Nord,” he told Gentleman Jim, after nodding to Crazy-Legs, “He was a good fighter. Liked him. Hit him with my warhammer.”
“It was a bad business, to be sure, but ultimately for the good of Morrowind. The Camonna Tong have no honour at all,” Gentleman Jim replied standing to embrace their guest in greeting and thanks.
Gro-Bura’s direct way of speaking masked his quick hands and quick minds. Crazy-Legs had never made the mistake of underestimating an Orc’s intelligence. From Dagon Fel to Ebonheart those who knew this Orc, but often not his thieving, would say that he never killed unless forced too, or to end an evil life. Some said he’d never killed to steal, thought the previous owner of Ahnassi’s new robe was certainly dead. Crazy-Legs listened proudly as the Orc accepted the leadership of the Thieves Guild. They’d discussed it, Gentleman Jim, and he. It was time to retire, get nice place on the coast somewhere. As long as he had his Gentleman, Crazy-Legs thought he could be happy anywhere. Then, his own name mentioned awoke him from a coastal vision,
“I must confess my curiosity has matched Arantamo’s own; the two of us lying together, gossiping like washer woman. If you’d rather not say then I would never push the matter,” continued his love, “but the story is that you turned down Ahnassi because your weapon was too large. Can it be true, sir?”
Gro-Bura smiled, sadly, and Crazy-Legs thought it strange to see such an expression on the face of an Orc. There was something of loss, there.
“Yes,” said he said, “It’s true. Look at this, for it is more curse than blessing.”
Crazy-Legs resisted a chuckle. The dropping of one’s pants was far more in character for an Orc, even if it seemed more likely to meet a naked Nord along the old roads these days. His smile froze as baggy pants fell away to reveal the organ in question. ‘No wonder Gro-Bura hadn’t wanted to stick it in Ahnassi’, he thought, ‘he’d have split her in two’. Iy was even bigger than Gentleman Jim’s. Crazy-Legs doubted he could take it, even with a lot of preparation. It would be fun to try though. Ahnassi had probably thought the same, but Orcs and passion could be a very dangerous mixture. It was said a Bosmer had broken his pelvis after agreeing to go with an Orc warrior to her room.
“You have my sympathy,” said Gentleman Jim, and sounded like he meant it. He reached over gently to push Crazy-Legs jaw up before continuing,
“It is not a burden I should care to bear. Still, you might find it useful yet. Nocturnal may pay you a visit, if she approves your taking over here”
“I will uphold the honour of the Thieves Guild,” replied the Orc, re-covering his thick... thighs.
“I just gave her a peck on the cheek and a handshake. Anyway, we’ve a few things to collect, and then we’ll be off in day or so,” assured Gentleman Jim, with an airy wave, “places to go, Silt-Striders to catch, long walks to take on the beach. That sort of thing.”
Crazy-Legs became aware of an uncomfortable restriction in his finery. He moved nonchalantly behind the chair. The Orc’s imposing masculinity had had something of an effect on him; as if he was a youth again. It took the Dunmer’s considerable self control not to tug Gentleman Jim down, and take parts of the Redguard into his mouth or elsewhere.
“I say, Crazy-Legs, change of plan, why don’t we step out for a breath of air and leave the new .Master Thief to his headquarters? I know a quiet space where we could take one or two matters in hand. We can collect our things later.”
The Dunmer smiled, waved goodbye, and they left arm in arm.

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This flashfic was written for the prompt 'Gentleman' provided by Joe Long on the AdultFanFiction forum shoutbox. Thanks to Joe Long.
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The Orc's Weapon