1 Tales of Orphans - Nathaniel

"I swear to Adonai, if that pudgy dwarf whips me like that again he'll lose more than a tooth from me," I snarled, feeling sore from head to toe. I'm telling you now, I'm not an easy camper. Never was never will be. It's just not in my genes.

"How come I was the one struck multiple times when I was the one who voted against your idiotic plan?" a female wood elf who we called Eti complained. "I don't know why I let myself be seen around you. When will you learn to control what comes out of your mouth?"

Even though Eti had been my best friend since I was sold into slavery as an orphan, her whole name had always escaped my mind. Hey, don't judge me! It's not my fault elves give their offspring sometimes overly long and odd names. Maybe they did it for attention?

As the scorching sun was leisurely setting, thank goodness, I could tell my best bud had the strong urge to slap the taste out of my already bloody mouth. Like me, Etis was fashionably wearing tattered sackcloth which most of us couldn't change from if we had the chance. On her crusty and calloused feet she wore worn out beige sandals which occasionally slipped off Eti's small feet whenever she worked. And let me not forget the not so stylish iron collars, with flashing dark red runes, fastened around our necks.

Wait a minute! I haven't even introduced myself. Here I am going on about Etis when I haven't even shared with you my own name.

The name's Nathaniel Leonhardt or around these parts I'm known as The Bratty Brawler. Like I said before, I don't take things lying down. Before getting sold into slavery, when I was nine, I was born into a family of highly praised and respected knights. You're wondering how I got mixed up with the wrong crowd. That's a long story. One I'm not in the mood to get into now.

I ran my aching right hand through my messy hair with little care in the world. Turning to the side, I spat out some blood on the grassy ground. I responded back with, "That wouldn't have happened if you would have just listened to me from the get go!"

Even though we were both hurting as we sluggishly made our way back to our horribly made tents, which were just sticks and a large stained sheet over it, I didn't like that Eti had made me yell. She tends to do that a lot. Never satisfied with seeing me failing almost everyday. So what does a good friend do in this situation? Well, for me I always resorted to the same thing that has only made our friendship stronger.

"OUCH!" Eti shouted in pain being on the receiving end of a stern punch. She held up her sore arm. "Hellooooo, badly wounded arm over here."

"You deserve it!"

Call me a jerk, selfish, inconsiderate, whatever comes to mind. Doesn't hurt me.

A pleasant breeze swept over the deserted village we were making camp in. Finally, we were in a fruitful looking forest. I so wanted to cry with glee. Hey, if you spent nearly seven hours straight looking for a place like this starting from a scorching desert, only allowed to walk on the blazing sand while your "master" comfortably rode in a shaded wagon, you'd also cry your eyes out in gratitude.

With shackles on our banged up exposed legs, it was hard not to scare away the unique critters that caught sight of us. Or maybe they just had a good sense of smell. I hadn't bathed in nearly two weeks. Yeah, it was that bad.

"What a day! I feel like I can sleep for three days straight," I yawned. My stomach grumbled loudly. I couldn't even remember what was served this morning. I leaned over to Etis, whispering, "I need some grub. Hey Eti, do you have any snacks stashed away in your tent?"

Etis glared at me.

I backed up a bit creeped out. "Is that a silent yes? Unfortunately, I don't read minds."

Instead of smelling the budding pansy plant, Etis and I walked in silence. The village seemed tranquil and beautiful to the eyes. The homes were one story logged cabins. Planted around the poorly kept together homes, many needing some serious TLC, were fences made out of lumber.

Both Etis and I non-verbally agreed we just wanted to put this day behind us. We weren't in the mood nor in the condition to go sightseeing. Neither were any of the other eighty slaves around us. Working out the whole day, doing every kind of exercise you could name, couldn't compare to the pain Etis and I were feeling. Even attempting to lift our eyes to gaze upon the fabulous clear blue sky was a challenge. Each step we took towards our cruddy tents felt as if numerous sandbags were tied to our feet.

"They're staring again," Etis reported, once again letting me off the hook for punching her.

"What else is new?" I said calmly.

On our overexerted walk, many of the other slaves enjoyed cracking jokes at both Etis and I. While we were both the smallest in the group, I still carried more muscle mass than my elven friend.

Instead of throwing the usual childish and expired insults our way, we were getting death stares and threats that were only delivered by hand gestures.

"Seems we're not liked even more," I chuckled to myself.

Once I happily reached my tent, my wasted mattress made me feel I was in a world with no burdens or trouble. Slipping off my heavy black boots was the best thing that happened to me that day. I didn't care if eyes couldn't turn away from my blistering crater covered feet. If you couldn't stand the putrid smell rising from them, tough for you. What mattered to me was my feet were finally out in the open to get some fresh air. From how much they traveled, you best believe they deserved it.

"It's so good to be home. Did you miss me honey?" I asked, sliding my left hand against my mattress. "Yeah, I missed you too. Sorry I took so long. Work as usual."

My eyes briefly shut as I flopped down on the mattress, allowing all of the pain and soreness I was feeling get washed away. After every strenuous and nearly life-threatening assignment, my tent was a piece of my old life that I always protected with every fiber in my being. The purple cotton fabric sheet that was meant to be the roof of the tent, was the blanket my mother made for me when I was only nine years old. The boots that I rarely washed were first given to me by my favorite uncle when he took me to my first ever hunt. And then there was the piece of paper I always kept in my right boot. A message my dear old stubborn dad wrote to me on my seventh birthday. 'Friends, money, weapons don't make a man. Decisions do.'

Gee, thanks Dad. I'll always treasure this present. This will be passed down from generation to generation.

"And why wouldn't we be?!"

And once again here was Etis trying to dig up the past while I was trying to get some shut eye. Even though that certain past was only like forty minutes ago.

"You tried to store away some food that you promised they would get to eat. Food, may I add, BELONGS TO ABZAAN!"

Abzaan. The name of the revolting creature who supposedly owns our lives.

Trying to drown out Eti's craze and unnecessary high pitched voice, I turned over on my left side purposely giving her my back. She hated it when she was being ignored. Especially if it was for something real important.

"HEY! I'm talking to you! Don't you know it's rude to give someone your back?" Etis screamed. "NATHANIEL LEONHARDT TURN AND FACE ME THIS INSTANT!"

I yawned loudly.

Seated at the entrance of her own tent, which was next to mine, I could feel Etis trying to control her temper. "Clear your head before you act." That's what she always told me her parents shared with her before their passing.

Unlike me, Etis never shied away from sharing hers story on how she got to this point in her life. Coming from a small family of wood elves, Etis always enjoyed going out with her parents to hunt or just go on fun outings. At least she had a relationship with her folks. Etis always said she missed her mother's freshly baked goodies, especially her specialty honey baked blackberry pie. Whenever we were sent on hunting or other assignments that required us to use weapons, the way Etis effortlessly used a bow and arrow always impressed me. She was just a natural loading her bow and firing it at her target, never known to miss.

"Hey Eti," I said half tired.

"What?" groaned Etis. She sounded pretty annoyed.

Letting out another long yawn, this one for real, I battled with keeping my eyes open. "Remember that one time when Abzaan sent us to get his favorite animal for his birthday? What was it again?"

"A porcupine boar," Etis answered. "Let me tell you that those beasts are probably created just to kill anyone and anything that stands near them."

Before Etis could go on a rant and give unnecessary facts about the creature, I quickly spoke up. "After it pooped in Abzaan's jaw dropping expensive carriage awhile back, I thought the guy would past out from the odor. I couldn't stop laughing at the look he had on his face. His ugly looking eyes almost popped out of his head."

Etis sighed. "I truly believed he was going to get rid of you that day, Nate. You were extremely fortunate that he spared you."

I sucked my teeth. "Yeah, yeah whatever. I thought it was funny."

That afternoon Etis and I brought back three beefy porcupine boars. How if we only had weapons that barely made a scratch? Well, my friendly next tent neighbor was able to get the job done with only three arrows in her quiver.

"Father always told me that if you think too much about it, you'd never get the job done. Load, aim, and fire," Etis told me that day as we made our way back to camp.

Yeah, easier said than done.

Finally getting the signal that I wasn't in the mood to hear her constant squabbing, Etis scoffed off after kicking dirt at me. I'll be the first to admit our friendship needs work.

"Finally. Some peace and quiet." After a long day of work who wouldn't love to catch some much needed Zs? "Still love you Eti. Get something to munch on. And if you can, bring me some leftovers," I called out jokingly. Before shutting my eyes to put today's harsh day behind me, as always I scanned my surroundings which always damped my spirits.

All around me I saw guys and gals who looked just like me, and others who were of different races. Humans. Wood and dark elves. Dwarfs. Humanoid bird-like creatures known as Birves. Askooks, who are reptilian humanoids. And a few others I couldn't name. Though most of us were from different walks of life, we shared one common thing. Okay, besides our annoying itchy shackles and iron collars. We each dreamt of our freedom.

It was true. I was seen as worse than scum to everyone around me. And yet a part of me hated seeing them covered in either dirt, bruises, and the blood of their victim. For many, the only way they could truly obtain freedom was by ending their own life by any means necessary. Being ten years old, I never had the guts of doing it. Not just because I was afraid of doing it. It was also because I never stopped believing I would one day return to my old life.

But around here hope was nonexistent. Especially if Abzaan snatched you up the moment you came out of your mother's womb.

"I want to go home!"

Groaning under my breath, I headed out of my tent.

Once I stuck my head out of my tent I saw a dwarven girl probably around ten or eleven.

"Leave me alone! I don't want to be here. Stay away!" she shrieked. "Don't touch me. I want to go back home. Please, leave me alone! Mommy! Daddy! Help me!"

From how her dark salmon commoner dress had yet to be coated with a smear of dirt, it was easy to tell she was one of Abzann's latest merchandise. Her wild reddish hair was blowing in the wind as she tried to outrun a pair of bald armed twin headed orcs. Whenever any of Abzaan's property saw the wild orcs heading their way, they either fell down to play dead or ran for cover. These brutes were ten feet tall with dense and shark tusks growing out of their jaws. One wielded a large warhammer and the other a great-sword. Both had some kind of animal's skin wrapped around the lower half of their dark green rough skin.

The orcs weren't paid for their services by Abzaan. In fact they were in worse conditions than guys like me and Etis. On their thick vein covered neck they wore a large metallic necklace, which was wide as a regular sized dining table. Whenever Abzaan's muscles got out of hand, a nasty shock was sent surging into their bodies which if used on anything other than orcs would instantaneously kill them.

The mindless mega heavyweights stomped their way to their target, not breaking a single sweat. Globs of saliva poured out of their mouths frightening everyone on sight.

"Move!"

"Look out!"

"Oh my God, they're heading this way!"

I stayed by my tent. Unfortunately, playing hero wasn't on my schedule today.

"Please leave me alone!" the girl pleaded.

Standing up for what was right and defending the weak was what I was always taught when I was younger. But around these parts trying to save a life would guarantee losing your own. Beatings and more intense labor was a slap on the wrist in Abzaan's eyes. A lesson needed to be taught so others wouldn't dare to step out of line. So forgive me if I didn't become that girl's knight in shining armor. Even though I knew what Abzaan had planned for her. My stomach could barely keep food down each time I saw a new young child, boy or girl, get dragged to his quarters. Clipping his crusty and jagged smelly toe nails. Cleaning out his large hairy ears and nostrils. Massaging his feet covered in puss leaking boils and sores.

As I watched one of the double headed muscle freaks easily snatch up the latest member of the camp, everyone watched with heavy hearts as she kicked and screamed the whole way.

"Please someone save me! ANYONE! PLEASE!"

Knowing there was nothing they could do, most headed to their tents to rest while others returned working. As for me?

"Hey Mom. Once again your God sat back and did nothing. Great and all powerful He sure is," I whispered as I yawned, knowing I'd wake up back in hell.