Brutality and Kindness are not Mutually Exclusive CH 0
#1 of Brutality and Kindness are not Mutually Exclusive
There once was an orc who was considered 'too nice'. So he went to war, brutally defeated his enemies, ate their corpses, and took over the kingdom.
But that doesn't happen until a bit later. This is the prologue.
Or "How I caved in a man's skull and ate his flesh before rescuing some puppies from a burning building", the prolouge.
"Listen, Grog, you're too nice. If you're going to be an honored warrior, you need to get your act together or else nobody is going to take you seriously!"
Grogner, or 'Grog' (called such for his nearly unwavering love of the stuff) stood, fuming in front of the battalion commander For the past week and a half, he'd been listing to the blowhard prattle on an on about how Grog wasn't 'up to snuff', 'hardly bloodthirsty at all', and his most recent favorite 'spoiled rotten'. All because Grog hadn't thrown a death-dealing blow in a fight, apparently that made him weak.
"Being nice and being a good warrior are not mutually exclusive." He snapped. "Why should I kill someone if I don't have to?"
That seemed to make things worse. "That sort of attitude is exactly why I can't stand you. You think you're too good to kill."
"Excuse me?"
The older man got into Grog's face and narrowed his eyes. "You think that not giving someone an honorable death in battle is somehow better? By not killing someone you're telling them that they aren't even worth dirtying your armor with. Its an insult worse than death itself." Suddenly his eyes widened. "Or maybe... you are afraid to kill? Too scared to do it, that's it isn't it?"
"You seem awfully sure of yourself." Grog said, gritting his teeth.
"Well, then. We'll be moving into enemy territory soon, so there is bound to be a tussle or two out there. Why not prove me wrong?"
"If you're that insistent, then so be it."
Like he had said, it wasn't long after their breach of enemy lines that they were attacked. Unfortunately for the enemy, the bulky and powerful orcs were able to take down the first few waves with little effort, a barrage of clubs and swords literally crushing some of the poor souls.
"Well, now's your chance, Grog. Show me what you've got." The commander more or less ordered of the younger orc.
With a deafening roar, Grog leaped into the fray, and quickly found an opponent. The two of them were on near equal ground, the human's speed and agility balancing out Grog's massive size and power. However, a simple misstep caused the soldier to fall, and Grog was on top of him in an instant, plunging the blade of his sword through the man's armor with nothing but sheer force. He let out a grunt of pain as the tip of the sword initially snapped off and hit him, but he said little else.
Something about killing that man however, woke up a part of Grog that even he didn't know had existed. The next thing he knew, everything went black and he tore off the armor, and into the corpse, eating most of the body, save for the heart. Even the commander stood in shock as the formerly polite and well spoken orc bit into the corpse, his face and hands covered in blood. As he finished the first body, he pulled his broken weapon out of the armor and flung himself at the nearest moving body he saw, quickly repeating the process. Attack, Kill, Eat, Attack, Kill, Eat, over and over again. By this time, even his fellow warriors were not exempt from his attacks, friend or foe, he didn't discriminate. It took a couple blows to the head before he finally fell unconscious.
The remaining warriors stood around him, ready to attack should he rise. The humans had retreated some time ago, not wanting to deal with the monstrous tendencies that had possessed Grog.
"What should we do wit' him, Commander?" One asked, visibly shaken, but still ready to strike should the need arise. "We kill him now, 'fore he wakes up and goes mental again?"
The commander shook his head. "No, drag him back to the camp. I'll leave his fate to his father." Admittedly, he hoped that the young man wouldn't suffer too harsh of a punishment. If Grog truly was a berzerker, he could live with having to sacrifice a few of his other men for another victory like that. Curious, he inspected the bodies that Grog had left behind. They had all been picked clean of most their meat, except for their heart, which was viewed as the most important organ, and the residing place of the soul itself.
"Hmm, berzerk or not, I guess the brat still had a sentimental side." he grunted, before turning away from the body and heading in the direction of camp. "If he keeps this up though, I guess I don't give a damn what he does to the bodies in the end."