The Tale of Urzkhal: Part 10 – The Centaurs

It was the morning after the orcs had taken the village of Yllho Dorthore and the nearby fort. Urzkhal was meeting with goblins making preparation to march onto the Mauta Forest to capture the centaurs.

One of the orc warriors approached. It was one of Urzkhal’s lieutenants, Mivarg. He had with him on leashes 2 elf maidens and a male elf, a young boy. “Sir, you told us to let you know if we found any breeding potion and if so, to find any of the elf cunts that know about. We found a large stash of it in a store and we interrogated some of the elves. They identified this cunt here as one as a... as a…” Mivarg stumbled, trying to find the word. He shoved one of the two elf maidens forward. “Tell him what you are. Or what you were, I should say.”

“I am… I was an apothecarist,” the elf replied, fearfully.

When the elf identified herself as an apothecarist, Urzkhal’s eyes lit up with interest. “What is your name, slave?”

“Halaema,” the elf whimpered.

“And you made breeding potion here in this village, Halaema?”

“Yes,” Halaema said softly. “We made it here and we distributed to many other regions of Elevosia.”

Urzkhal smiled. “Splendid. And who else made it with you here in this village? Are there other elf maidens?”

Halaema closed her eyes as they teared up. “Her voice trembling, and choking back a sob, she whimpered, “No, there were a couple male elves that worked with me but they were killed last night.” One of those elves had been her husband.

“Well, Halaema, you just narrowly avoided a much worse fate.” He turned Mivarg. “Whoever takes these slaves back to the portal; make sure they take this one directly to Grimnor and have her tell him what she is. And send the breeding potion back with her too.”

“Yes, sir,” Mivarg replied.

“And who is the other cunt?” Urzkhal asked.

“You asked the goblins to identify the elf cunt that they captured when they were scouting. This is the one.” Mivarg shoved her forward. It was Osonia.

Urzkhal looked her up and down. The goblins had informed him that the slave who they had taken had come along with their captors to the fort and village.  “Do you have a daughter named Phelorna?” he asked her.

Osonia’s eyes lit up at the mention of her daughter and she nodded. “Yes, where is she, is she OK?” she asked. “Please, where is she?”

“She is likely well on her way to being an eager little slut,” Urzkhal said. “If it is any consolation, she narrowly avoided a much worse fate, being sent to labor camp. Which unfortunately is not a fate that you will avoid.” He turned to Mivarg. “Tell the orcs bringing back these slaves, that when they reach the camp, this one would should be hooded and gagged so that a slave at the camp that is her daughter does not see her. Seeing her mother may undermine or undo some of conditioning. Don’t remove her hood and gag until she is through the portal.”

Osonia started to beg and plead to be allowed to see her daughter but Mivarg backhanded her hard to silence her

“And have we identified all of the female family members of the warriors in the fort?” Urzkhal asked.

“Yep, with some harsh encouragement, it did not take long for them to identify themselves or to identify their neighbors that were the family members,” Mivarg replied. “It is remarkable how cooperative a whip makes a new slave.” He smirked. “About half of the 200 elf maidens are family members of the soldiers, both to the dead male warriors and the captured female warriors.”

“Good. Separate them out and put them with the captured warriors to go to Lebrolx. The rest can be coffled together to be sent back to our camp and then to a labor camp.”

Finally, the boy was shoved forward and presented to Urzkhal. He was the only male in the entire village who had been spared. Urzkhal had instructed the orcs to spare one small boy.

Urzkhal crouched down so that he was at eye level with the boy before he spoke. “You have seen what we did to all the males of your village, no?” His eyes red and swollen from crying, the young elf nodded. “And you have been told what is happening to all of the females in your village, as punishment for what the elves in that fort did to our orcs?” Urzkhal asked him.

The frightened boy nodded again.

Urzkhal continued after the boy nodded. “When we leave here, we are going to let you go. And you are going to run to the next village, and the village after that, and the village after that, and you are going to tell them what we did to your mother and sisters and every elf maiden in this village, as punishment for what elves in the fort did to our orcs. You will make sure the elves know the terrible consequences the elves that were here will suffer for what they did in that fort.”

The frightened elf nodded yet again.

Urzkhal rose and turned to Mivarg. “Do not release this elf until we are ready to depart.” Mivarg nodded and turned to leave, with the three leashed captives dragged behind him.

………………..

Sylmare lay on the floor of the fort, barely conscious. She had been ravaged and whipped and abused nonstop all night and well into the next morning. All of the former female guards and interrogators had been. Spending weeks sexually tormenting the imprisoned orcs, teasing and denying them orgasms, and humiliating them had been effective tools for interrogating them. But now that those orcs had been freed, they were exacting horrible retribution on their former captors.

“Get up cunt!” an orc yelled and he started slashing at Sylmare with a whip. She struggled to climb up onto her feet. The orc grabbed her and hauled her up. She could barely stand; she was exhausted and sore, particularly between her legs, and her legs themselves felt like jelly.

The orc holding her thrust her forward to present her to another orc. “This is one of the two lead interrogators. The other one is still be fucked by some of their former captors.”

Urzkhal glared at Sylmare as he looked her up and down. “So, this is the elf cunt who likes to torment and humiliate orcs and goblins. She will be spending the rest of her miserable life deeply regretting that decision. I hope you and your friends and family will enjoy being broodmares, pushing out new slaves from your wombs for the horde,” he growled,

“Please, the decision to interrogate the orcs and goblins the way we did was my choice and Namys’s choice only,” Sylmare whimpered. “Please do not punish the other guards and interrogators here. And do not subject the families to such a cruel fate! I beg you!”

Urzkhal backhanded her hard. “Silence, cunt. Your begging means nothing. You have already sealed the fates of every elf cunt in this fort and every one of their sisters, mothers, and daughters. Perhaps word will get around Elevosia as to what happens to the families of elves that try to humiliate and torment orcs, and they will think twice about doing it again.” He turned to the orc holding Sylmare. “We have a couple hours still before we depart. Have her beaten and fucked until we are ready to depart.”

“Gladly,” the orc growled and dragged Sylmare off as she began sobbing, terrified and dismayed with her own situation but even more terrified dismayed with the situation she had thrust so many innocent elf maidens from Yllho Dorthore.

But soon enough, Sylmare had more immediate concerns as she was thrown to the ground and ravaged and whipped over and over.

A few hours later, the punishment finally stopped. An orc grabbed the barely conscious Sylmare by the hair and pulled her up onto her feet, and started dragging her. She was taken from the fort. Outside, the other former female guards and interrogators were lined up. An orc was moving down the line locking collars around their throats. Sylmare was taken to the end of the line and a minute later she too had a collar locked around her throat. She looked around. She did not see Namys. But everyone else was there, including her assistant interrogator Usamea. Sylmare had been training Usamea to be a skilled interrogator. But Sylmare realized that she had instead doomed the elf to a lifetime of brutal slavery. As the captives waited in line, some orcs approached from the village. They had with them about 100 captives. When they drew near, Sylmare was horrified when she realized who they were. They were the female relatives of the guards and interrogators of the fort. The village had largely existed to support the fort so half of the elves in it were related to the warriors of the fort. It seemed the orc had already been able to interrogate both the guards and villagers and identify all the relatives. Sylmare was young and was not originally from the village of Yllho Dorthore. She did not have any family here. But she saw Usamea’s sister and mother. And Namys’s mother and young daughter, Nueleth.  Sylmare’s eyes teared up at the thought about the cruelty these poor elf maidens were going to be subjected. All of them would suffer those brutal consequences because of Sylmare’s actions. The new arrivals were added to the coffle.

And then Sylmare saw the door to the fort open and an orc walked out dragging Namys. She was in bad shape and had clearly suffered terrible abuse the night prior. She was unconscious. “This one won’t wake up,” the orc dragging Namys announced to the orc that had been put in charge of coffling the slaves.

“Then kill her,” that orc replied.

An anguished wail rang out. It was Nueleth, obviously distraught to hear the orc instruct that her mother be killed. Without hesitating, Sylmare called out, “Please do not kill her! Until she can walk, I will carry her!” The orc in charge of coffling the slaves looked between Namys and Sylmare as he pondered what she had suggested. After a few seconds, he shrugged and nodded. “Move that one to the back of the coffle so she will be easier to whip if she is too slow,” he said gesturing towards Sylmare. “She can carry her cunt friend. If she is unable to go any further then kill them both.”

An orc unchained Sylmare and put her in the back of the coffle. The orc dragging the unconscious Namys took her over to Sylmare and dumped her at Sylmare’s feet. “Enjoy, cunt,” he said. Sylmare bent down and struggled to pick up her friend and she draped her over her back. Sylmare prayed that Namys woke up and could walk soon enough. The orc took a pair of cuffs and locked one to Namys’s wrist and the other to Sylmare’s wrist. Their fates were now tied, literally. Orcs began slashing at the coffle with their whips. “Get moving, cunts!” the orcs snarled and the coffle began lumbering forward.

They only walked a few hundred yards when they met up with another coffle of slaves. These were the other elf maidens from the village. Urzkhal was standing there with Trulakk and some of the other former orc captives. “Take these slaves back to the portal,” Urzkhal told Trulakk. “These villagers here can be branded and sent through the portal to the labor camp. These soldiers and their families can be branded and sent to Gnarlug and Lebrolx. I am sending all of you former captive orcs to escort the slaves back to our camp in the Great Forest. And I am sending some of my scouts with you to make sure you don’t run into any patrols of elves along the way. The rest of my warriors are not going back yet. We have a mission to complete and the goblins are coming with us.”

Trulakk nodded. The orcs heading back to the portal starting herding the two coffles, slashing at them with whips to keep them moving. At the back of the smaller coffle, Sylmare struggled to carry Namys. A whip slashed painfully into her ass. Screaming out in pain, Sylmare tried to pick up her pace. Of course, she had no real choice. She had to walk at the pace of the coffle of slaves in front of her or be dragged. She felt a pit in her stomach as she realized she was heading to an unimaginable nightmare.

When the coffles and orcs had departed, Urzkhal turned to his warriors. “OK orcs! Onto the Mauta Forest and the capture of these centaurs!”

………………..

Miriella was sucking the cock of one of the Council Members, Grargar Strongbeast. He groaned loudly and climaxed, his cum spurting into Miriella’s mouth. He pulled his cock out past her lips so the last spurt of cum coated her lips and chin.

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As Miriella licked up the cum from her face and his cock, she heard wet sucking noises and she glanced over at Phelorna, who was sucking off Omgum Boldsword. Her eyes were closed and drool was spilling down her chin. She looked to be enjoying herself. Omgum was groaning with pleasure. Phelorna was clearly doing a good job, and Miriella beamed with pride at the progress the young slave had made.

Miriella heard the sharp crack of a whip striking flesh, and the pained cries an elf. Laerdya was being whipped. She had likely not done anything specific to earn a whipping, but the orcs enjoyed breaking and abusing former princesses, as Miriella had learned when she was first enslaved, so many months ago. Miriella winced as she heard Laerdya crying out. She sympathized with her. But Miriella did not pity her. Getting whipped was simply a fact of slavery. Miriella was as disciplined and pleasing as any slave and even she was whipped, and not that infrequently. It helped reinforce for a slave what she was, and that only perfection was acceptable for slaves and a slave must always strive to be as close to perfection as possible. The abuse of Laerdya was therefore critical. And as a former princess, she had to be stripped of her dignity and arrogance and propriety so she could be reduced to being a submissive slut, just like Miriella.

………………..

A week had passed. Urzkhal had arrived at the Mauta Forest. Urzkhal was crouched down on a hill that overlooked the forest and a small field that was on the edge of the forest. Beside Urzkhal was his lieutenant Mivarg and the goblin Ucherg. Urzkhal was getting his first look at the Mauta, which was the tribal name of the centaurs according to Ucherg. He could tell right away how useful they would be as weapons against the cavalry. They had the head, arms, and torso of a human or elf. Urzkhal could not tell from this distance, but he had been told by Urzkhal that their ears were pointed, like an elf’s. The creatures’ lower halves were that of a horse. The centaurs looked big and strong, especially the males, and even the females did not look weak.

“How many are there?” Urzkhal said.

“The elves we captured and interrogated said there are a few hundred,” Ucherg responded.

“And they are not likely armed?” Mivarg asked.

Ucherg shook his head. “We have never seen any with weapons, other than with farming tools that I suppose they could use as weapons. The elves said they are very strong but they are peaceful creatures. They are a tribe of farmers. But I imagine they pack a nasty kick.”

“We will wait until nightfall and then we will strike,” Urzkhal said. “Send in some of your goblins and find out where the foals will be.”

………………..

It was night time and all of the Mauta had returned to their camp in the forest. Most were gathered around a large fire at the center of camp. One of the older stallions was telling stories to some of the foals gathered at the fire. Other stallions, mares, colts, and fillies were helping to prepare the feast for the night. Bhuretha was overseeing as the feast was prepared. She was the tribe’s chief.

Bhuretha heard the cracks of twigs in the forest. Perhaps deer had wandered nearby, eager for the leftovers from the Mauta’s feast. She paid it no mind. But then suddenly there was stampede of many feet crashing through the woods. And then ferocious roars. Bhuretha spun around and in the darkness, she saw figures running at them from all directions. She could not make them out at first, other than seeing that they were running on two legs. Her first thought was elves, but that made no sense. The elves tended not to intrude on the Mauta’s territory and the elves and Mauta had a peaceful and respectful relationship. But as the figures drew near, Bhuretha’s eyes widened in shock. It was orcs. The Mauta had had whispers of orcs returning to Elevosia but they had assumed they were just crazy tales. And even if it were true, it was the orcs and elves that had been locked in conflict millennia ago, and the Mauta and orcs had rarely interacted.

But as the orcs swarmed the herd, it was clear they had malicious intent. They started casting nets and lassos, trying to capture and bind the Matua. “Protect the foals!” Bhuretha screamed and a number of the stallions and mares began to surround the foals in a circle. Other mares and stallions, as well as the colts and fillies, tried to fend off the orcs, kicking at them with their hind legs. Bhuretha saw an orc charging at her from behind. He tried to lasso her but she dodged the rope. Bhuretha leaned forward on her forelegs and then kicked back with both her hindlegs. She struck the orc square in the chest and sent him flying through the air and crashing to the ground. But then suddenly, a net fell upon her. She started thrashing around, desperately trying to free herself. She heard the distressed cries of other Mauta as they were captured, and the frightened screams of the foals as they watched the violence unfolding.

Suddenly an orc’s voice rang out. “Centaurs. We have your foals surrounded! Surrender and no harm will come to them! Resist and we will have no choice but to kill them.” Bhuretha turned her head and saw that orcs had indeed captured all of the mares and stallions that had tried to protect the foals and the orcs now had the foals surrounded.

“Stop fighting!” Bhuretha shouted, trying to keep the foals safe. Within a few more minutes, the entire village was captured in nets or lassoed by the orcs.

Bhuretha had fallen to the ground and she felt hands roughly grabbing her. The net was pulled from her but chains were attached to all four of her legs, hobbling her. Her arms were pulled behind her back and her wrists were bound. A thick, metal collar with a chain leash was locked around her throat.

An orc walked over to Bhuretha. “Are you the leader of the centaurs?” he asked.

“Yes, I am the chief of the Mauta. What is the meaning of his!?! Why have you attacked our village?” Bhuretha demanded.

The orc responded loudly, so all the Mauta could hear, “My name is Urzkhal and I am a general in the orc horde. You are now our prisoners. No harm will come to you or your foals if you cooperate and do not resist. We are taking you all back to our camp. If any of you flee or try and resist, I will have no choice but to harm your young ones. I do not wish to do that, so please cooperate.”

Bhuretha knew she had no choice. “Do what they say,” she called to the Mauta, fear in her voice.

Urzkhal spoke to Bhuretha. “I am going to have your legs unchained and you are not going to do anything foolish like kick or try and flee, will you?”

Bhuretha glared at Urzkhal but then she slowly shook her head. An orc leaned down and unchained her legs. Urzkhal stepped over to Bhuretha and then climbed onto her back. “I will be riding you back to our camp. My orcs will be riding all of you back except the foals. We will take them with us though.” Bhuretha’s cheeks burned in anger. It was an insult and a great offense to any Mauta to have a two-legged being try ride them like common horses. But she knew they had no choice.

A gag was shoved in Bhuretha’s mouth and then the other Mauta were gagged as well. The orcs did not want them being able to shout and alert any elves as they traveled back to the Great Forest. And they also wanted the Mauta to not be able to talk, so they started to feel more like animals. Because they were about to be reduced into being beasts of war.

“Urzkhal slapped Bhuretha’s side. “Forward,” he commanded. A humiliated Bhuretha started walking forward. Soon all of the captive Mauta walked in a procession out of the forest with orcs on their backs.

(End of Part 10, to be continued...)

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