The first thing Jon smelt was the dirty scent of low energy plasma, or did he taste it? The synesthesia was still fucking with him. Whatever. He and Kay were perched on an overlooking but forested rise, observing with low-light scopes. A bonfire was going nicely, shielded by some small mountainous outcroppings and the forest as a whole. These Orcs had no need for subtlety given the factors mentioned. It was dark as the pair circumspectly approached their marks, their camera eye in the sky gave enough details to pinpoint the camp precisely.

Now came the fun part: finding a way to intimidate five battle-hardened muscle-bound hulks. Orcs were not magically attuned; Kay had explicitly said as much. Thank god for small miracles. They made up for this by simply being fucking strong.

Jon took another look. The Orcs were all buff as bodybuilders. Their skin colour varied from darkened pinks to almost green greys, with mottled splotches of generally symmetrical pigment. The patterns on exposed skin made individual identification trivial, even from afar. Hairlines were cropped high, closely shaven, or bald. One also sported a short mohawk.

“I kinda expected more green skin.”

“Tribes from the savage jungles south of the sea tend to be greener. These Orcs’ ancestors likely roamed the plains and tundra to the north.”

“Well, look at Ms Anthropologist over here! How do you know so much about Orcs?”

“Grandpa had an insatiable curiosity for the other races. I had thought his penchant foolish, and his incessant cataloguing worthless. He lived a long life with much travel before rearing me. Now, I see the value in such knowledge.” Kay glanced down, hiding her expression.

Jon continued surveillance. Their clothing illustrated they weren’t dumb either; each orc had a well maintained, if minimal, set of armour. This consisted mostly of furred leathers over quilted gambeson, with some choice metal plates. They had varied weapons, from shield-axe combos, spears, and even one rather sturdy looking recurve bow. The most outstanding feature that set them apart from average Orcs, if there were such a thing, was their mounts. The fact they had any was notable, but having a horse capable of saddling the two-metre tall beast-men was equally terrifying.

Understandably, these horses dwarfed most prime specimens produced by any passionate equestrian from back home. They had abundant, flowing manes, and knotted muscles rippled beneath their shiny hide. Thick trunk-like legs sported longer fur along their forelimbs. Those beasts scare me more than the riders! He could imagine facing a cavalry charge, or more precisely, trying to be nowhere fucking near one.

Kay asked, “To be plain, Jon, you wish to walk up to these monsters mostly unarmed and talk to them?”

“Well sure, how else can I establish their intent here.”

“From the horses and weapons, I think it should be unequivocal. They are Mor’Orcs: at war with the humans on the mainland.”

“What they are is not as important as why they’re here: Scouts, deserters, mercenaries, etcetera. There is more to establishing hostile intent than simply sighting them down your bow. As a rule of thumb, I never underestimate anyone wearing gambeson; they’re always extremely pragmatic arseholes.”

“Now he cares about 'why'," she mumbled and then spoke up. "Perhaps, wise in terms of the gathering of knowledge Ma-, Jon. It does conversely expose you to far more risk. Especially when my bow and your firearms can assail them from afar.”

“We’ve been over this, Kay. I’m not a friggin assassin, and there is no benefit in approaching this engagement if we don’t get bargaining intel for Elgelica.”

“Very well, Jon,” she conceded but looked by no means comfortable. He gave her a conciliatory shoulder pat, and they set about with the plan. Kay, was a good kid and she had made admirable progress so far, but she was still green as hell. Not Orc or Golbin green, he corrected himself. Perhaps calling people green in a world with actual green people would be misleading—a problem for another time.

Anyway, as strong as she was, weapons could still pierce her skin. Jon was very disappointed with that part of the testing, hoping for more ‘super’ from the super-girl. So, Jon continued to take point for the time being.

He left her armed and with a good vantage, while he picked his way down the hill toward the murderous looking muscle heads.

Once clearing the tree line, he immediately faced five very startled and readily armed Orcs. “Hello,” he said his voice carrying in the shocked silence.

“Who goes there! Halt and state your business!” bellowed the closest Orc. Jon didn’t need to be told twice to stop. Approaching these five muscle-bound brutes was already disconcerting.

“Ah, hello, my name is Jon. I am a woodsman around these parts, I spied your fire from the ridge and decided to investigate.”

“Where is your axe woodsman?” The Orc that came forward was the mohawked one; dark pigments trailed down his cheeks like black gashes. As he spoke sharp and extended upper and lower canines flashed in the dim and flickering light.

“I felt it better to approach unarmed. Given how startled you were, I suspect it was the best course.”

“Fair enough woodsman, are you alone?”

“Verily no, I have a companion spying our exchange from that hillside over yonder.” He pointed to a hill where he hoped there was indeed no one.

“Thank with being so forthcoming, Jon. My name is Baugh.” He appeared to relax some, and another Orc strutted back to attend to one of their beast-horses.

“I come in peace, as you see, and I note you appear to be men of discipline and competence. However, the Elven City of Elgelica is nearby, and though they may look with disfavour on my kind; they are decidedly more opposed receiving Orcs. Perhaps Mor’Orcs even more so.” He was baiting the hook quite heavily.

“We are not men; we are Orcs,” Baugh stated definitively.

“A slip of common parlance, you’ll forgive me.”

“It is true; you are forgiven.” He hoisted his shield and war axe, and slowly began to approach. The two Orcs swiftly mounted their horses and rode into the forest toward where Jon had gestured earlier.

“Is there something the matter?” Jon asked innocently.

“Nothing at all. All will be resolved shortly. You see, so far from the horde, it is important we maintain as concealed an approach as possible. It is not the most honourable of tasks, but knowing the lay of the land will ensure much honour for the main host when it arrives. Your companion will be chased down quickly no matter where he hides, Curbag is a good tracker, and we are far from any town.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought this through.”

“How unfortunate that you have not.”

“What if I had a squad of men, waiting in the trees?”

“We scouted the entirety of this area before making camp. Whatever hovel you hid in, you have no horses and few men. We would have found the tracks otherwise. One look at your clothing shows you are no soldier. A huntsman perhaps, but your fair skin has the stench of a noble. Perhaps you are a mage, but I have bested many such arrogant fools. Too lazy to learn of muscle and steel, and too dependent on silly tricks.”

“You know books generally give you guys a bad rep. But colour me impressed!”

“Enough! For me, at least there will be some honour tonight. I know your name, and you know mine.” He unlatched a belted dagger the size of a short sword and tossed it to the ground ahead of Jon. The other two Orcs stood back, weapons at the ready. The bow-armed orc had left with a spear wielder to catch Jon's ‘companion’. The situation was clear, and it made Jon smile in relief.

“Aah, thank you for making this so easy! Honestly, you’ve totally exceeded my expectations; you guys are doing your job superbly. It’s just a pity I stumbled upon you. I am sorry, as you say, this is business.”

“Pick up your weapon human, or I slay you like a petty beast!” The Orc was pacing impatiently far outside of sword range, around five meters.

“There is no need; I'm already armed.” And with that, an arrow sailed to land just in front of Baugh. It had a large bulbous head, and Jon braced his senses as the flashbang went off. In the dark forest, the blinding light was extremely effective against night vision. Baugh swayed side to side dazed. Jon drew his sidearm, already loosened from his hip holster; the Colt 1911 bucked cleanly with three shots centre mass before Baugh even knew what hit him. One hit his wood shield for all it was worth. Baugh collapsed on his knees and slumped forward.

The other two Orcs were further away, and a little more shocked than dazed. Then Jon’s AK-103, mounted on a gimbal joint and perched in a tree, let loose and rained burst shots. Bullets perforated the poor fucks as only a machine could. An arrow found one Orc’s head before it went down too.

Hearing the noise pulled the search party back, and they entered the clearing at full gallop, not a minute later. Jon found cover behind a rock and tossed out a flashbang just as they approached. The payload of the lobbed version was much larger, hence its greater effectiveness. The horses bucked and tossed their riders in the brutal ruckus of light and sound, before bolting off.

Jon had clamped a sensor pack to the tree housing his rifle. Seismics were pointless so far away, but low light and infrared optics worked just fine. Where the riders lay was indicated on his HUD, and he peered over the boulder opening fire. The bow-wielding Orc died where he lay, while the other, wounded but not lethally, started crawling away.

“Cease fire.” Both Kay, Evy, and Lee received his command. Lee oversaw targeting and data management for most engagements.

“Be careful,” replied Kay.

“Second that,” said Lee

He approached the prone and crawling orc cautiously; gun readied and out of melee range. “I am really sorry about this; you appear to be well-trained soldiers. Your mistake was initiating hostilities with an unknown enemy when there was no need.”

“No, human!” He sputtered blood as he flipped himself over to face Jon. “It is you who have engaged with an unknown enemy! The horde will pillage and raze Elgelica to the ground! Tell your masters their time is short!” With that, he pulled a dagger from his belt and slit his own throat. Jon could have shot, but he let the man have his petty honour.

“Thank you, Orc; I will tell them. I am sorry I will never know your name.” The defiance never left his eyes as he gurgled and bled out.

Jon turned about and surveyed the carnage. “Okay Kay, the sensors show us in the clear. Approach with caution, and then we have clean-up to do.”

“Understood, Jon. This was a success, no?”

“I don’t know, but they gave us what we need.”

Had things panned out differently, he might have preferred siding with the Orcs. Just their brief altercation gave him plenty to go on. But, as with all wars, who was right mattered less than who was left.