Of Scarecrows and Orcs

“Remember, let me do the talking.” The horse hooves kicked up dust as the elfish ranger hitched his ride to the post.

“Okay.” The large shadow moved as a giant beast of a humanoid tied his own yak up next to the smaller pony. For its part the yak stood more patiently next to his equine companion.

Divaine led the way into the small tavern, ignoring the constant stares around them but keeping an eye peeled for anything more sinister than a whisper. His companion followed mutely, eyes staying on the ground and hands held at his sides.

The small tavern hushed as Divaine entered. Not because of him, he knew; but he ignored it and strode up towards the bar. In smaller spaces his friend unfortunately came across as even larger than usual.

“Excuse me, I’d like to rent a stable for the night?” Divaine raised his voice to the squat human behind the counter, whose gaze of course fell just behind his right shoulder.

“I only rent to humans.” Was the gruff reply.

Divaine smiled sweetly, his pointed ears barely moving an inch. “We’re not asking for a room, kind sir. Just a stable will do for us and our animals.” He held up a small pouch of coins, jingling it encouragingly.

The human continued to frown. “What is that?” He pointed, still not looking at Divaine.

“My friend? He’s actually a --”

“Not him - what’s he carrying?”

“Ah...that...” Divaine rubbed his neck. “That would be a scarecrow, of sorts...” It had been a scarecrow, until they had repurposed it with thicker stuffing and a heavy ballast that thudded softly as his companion moved. Since they couldn’t manage to tie it to the yak he carried it with him, never leaving it behind. Normally it wasn’t what folks fixated on when they looked at his friend.

“Why do you need a scarecrow?” The logic of this gruff person seemed inescapable.

“I would be happy to tell you, if you’d rent us that stable.” Divaine smiled again, his elfish charm sinking through every syllable like a hypnotic spell.

Leery, the tavern keep nodded. “Fine. Stable’s around the back, you can use the empty stall on the end. You clean it before and after.” He stared again at the scarecrow. “Is it supposed to be a human?”

“Absolutely not, sir. It’s quite obviously a demon.” Divaine pointed at the very dented sheep horns nailed to the makeshift head. “Training, for demon hunters such as ourselves.” He put his coins on the counter, their glint only slightly dimmed with bits of blood.

Another skeptical glare. ”You hunt demons?” This time his eyes did focus on Divaine, sizing up his willowy frame with obvious disdain.

Another patented elfish smile. “It’s a team sport. Thank you for the lodgings.” Pulling his friend along, he turned and exited. The other patrons watched them go, muttering behind their backs. Divaine stayed focused as he led them outside.

Returning to their animals, they untied them and led them around the back of the building. Divaine could pull his hood up to hide his ears, but in his experience it helped to have an extra race for the humans to hate besides his companion. Elves weren’t known for their ferocity; however, they weren’t known for foolishness either. If he could balance out their combined stereotypes - or at least confuse folks as to whether they should feel fear or contempt - it usually bought them time to excuse themselves before things got out of hand.

As they reached the stable he felt a slight tug on his sleeve. “Divaine? Ka’l talk now?”

Checking to see they hadn’t been followed, he beamed. “Of course Ka’l! What is it?”

“Divaine didn’t eat.” Ka’l’s frown, while terrifying, held only concern.

“That’s alright, we’ve got some leftover provisions still. I’ll eat once we’ve cleaned up this place a bit.” The stall they’d been assigned had been left unkempt for a while. The smell assailed his keen elvish senses, and he imagined his friend felt the same. “Hand me a pitchfork would you? Let’s muck this out.”

They worked together quietly, not saying a word as they cleared away the mess and raked in fresh hay. The space couldn’t fit both their mounts, so Ka’l spoke softly to his yak as he left it tied outside. The furry creature was better suited to sleeping in the cold air anyway. They removed its pack, taking out some rations for supper, and turned in for the night.

Divaine tried to keep their horse close to the wall, but it didn’t leave much space for either of them. He considered leaving Ka’l here to sleep outside in a tree somewhere. Yet his back couldn’t handle another night among branches, and he knew he had to rest before their next stop. “Ka’l? Would you be alright if I slept on top of you again?”

“Okay.” Ka’l laid down obediently, propping his head up on a small stack of hay as he brushed stray needles off his tunic. In the corner he had propped up his scarecrow, leaving it against the railing like some dark, dream guardian. “Sorry. Ka’l is lumpy.”

Divaine just smiled. “Your lumps keep us alive, friend. Never apologize for them.”

Crawling like a cat, he laid gently on top of his friend’s massive frame, tucking his stray hair behind his pointed ears so as not to tickle Ka’ls chin. While Ka’l’s body mass didn’t leave much for comfort, the steady breathing and heartbeat under Divaine’s ears drowned out the world. He’d sleep like a baby.

If only my mother knew I’d find such comfort in the arms of an orc. He smiled to himself, thinking about how different his life had become since leaving home.

“Goodnight, Divaine.” Ka’l rumbled from beneath him.

“Goodnight, Ka’l.” He replied, closing his eyes and drifting into sweet oblivion.

---

Divaine awoke on a warm layer of straw, his body pillow somehow gone without him noticing. How does he do that? He wondered, stretching his arms out and arching his back. He’d managed to get some solid rest, despite their tight quarters. He wondered how Ka’l had fared.

Wandering outside, he checked on their yak to make sure it had survived the night without hassle. Looking about, he spied a field off to the east and noted the large footprints in the dirt. With a yawn he followed them to find his friend.

THUMP

The training dummy teetered dangerously underneath another volley of blows, it’s thick padding absorbing the power of two fists pummeling with barely restrained ferocity. Ka’l exhaled on each hit, his grunts filling the morning air with a quiet symphony of exertion. Divaine never tired of watching him, his muscles glistening in the morning dew and sweat. Ka’l’s natural ability was a thing of wonder.

He’d been at it at least an hour, Divaine could tell. While he never knew exactly how long it took, he knew it varied each day. Some mornings Ka’l would spend ages exerting himself before coming back for breakfast.

“You are truly a force of nature, my friend.” Divaine remarked as he leaned against a fence post, watching his friend work.

Grunting, Ka’l stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Divaine want Ka’l wait in stable?”

“It might be safer.” Divaine admitted grudgingly. “But we can wait a bit. The market won’t open for another hour or so.”

With a nod, Ka’l turned back to his imaginary foe, its blank face still holding a dent from the previous round. “Ka’l finish, go back. Water that way.” He pointed. Divaine smiled. His orcish friend knew his habits well.

“A bath does sound lovely.” With a wave to his friend, he wandered off in search of the spring.

----

Divaine’s baths never seemed long enough. As the water soothed his weary muscles, he thought back on their last battle and the impending trudge ahead. Demon hunting might be profitable, but it wasn’t for the faint of heart. Moreover the gold seemed barely worth it, not when most towns refused them service regardless of how much they paid. His market run might go more smoothly solo, with his hair tied up and his ears less obvious; but when his partner had to spend his days hiding in a stable he felt his blood boil at the injustice of the world.

Secretly, Divaine had been putting aside gold towards buying them a small piece of land somewhere on the outskirts of the main kingdoms. Somewhere quiet, neutral. He had no desire to return to his people, and after so long away he doubted Ka’l would be welcome with his. Yet he wanted to create a haven for the both of them, where they could relax and maybe even grow old without throwing themselves in harm’s way for a bit of hay to sleep on and cold rations out of a bag. He felt pretty sure Ka’l could learn to plow and he had no trouble hunting if their farm took awhile to flourish.

Seeing the sun rising overhead, he sighed and exited the stream, shaking himself dry before putting on his dusty leather armor. As he tied up his hair - braiding it carefully over both ears - he thought back to Ka’l, and wondered if he might skip his morning bath again. He wouldn’t blame him, yet he would also appreciate not having such a strong odor to sleep on again should they decide to spend another night in the stables.

As he headed back to town, he noticed the field where Ka’l had trained stood empty - except for one thing.

The scarecrow.

It stood in the sunlight, it’s horns glistening against its rawhide skin.

Frowning, Divaine looked back down the trail he had followed, searching for any sign of Ka’l. Would he have left his scarecrow out in the open to take a bath? That wasn’t like him. Ka’l took his scarecrow everywhere. It was an integral part of him, and his daily routine. Leaving it to be possibly stolen or vandalized wasn’t his style.

A sudden fear grew in Divaine’s stomach and he found himself rushing back to town.

Racing into the stables, he found the stall empty save for their mount. “Ka’l?” he called, his voice rising in fear. No reply.

He turned on his heel and ran for the tavern next. Hardly noticing the murmurs as he burst through the doors, he spied the keep from the previous night. “Have you seen my companion?”

The keep’s gaze remained steady. “If you mean your large friend, no. It’d be hard to miss him.”

Divaine’s mind raced and he scanned the crowd. None of the faces offered any clues, or hints at what might have transpired.

“I need to rent the stable for another night.”

With a shrug, the tavern keep patted his counter. “Same price then. Pay up first.”

Throwing his coin on the wooden bar, he added, “If you see my friend, tell him to wait for me there.” Knowing it was futile, he rushed back outside towards the market.

As he searched, hood pulled up, he saw nothing. No one even close to the height he was looking for. He wouldn’t have come here without me. He knows better. What bothered Divaine most was knowing the scarecrow had been left behind. Even more than Divaine, that target was his friend’s best companion. He couldn’t imagine him letting it sit alone like that. I should go back for it and take it to the stable. If I can even carry it. Frowning, he doubled back towards the stables.

As he untied their yak and led it towards the field, he tried to think of all the places an orc could possibly hide. Where could he have gone that no one would notice? The quiet around the marketplace only made him more worried. What would they be doing to him that they would have led him out of town?

It took the latter half the morning, but he managed to haul the scarecrow back to the stables after tying it to the yak and dragging it through the dirt. The ballast held, even though the dummy looked a bit dusty propped against the stall. Sweating, tired, and starving the elf ranger looked at his poor horse and tried to think up a plan. Coming up with nothing, he sank into the hay and rested instead.

After eating the last of their rations, he tried searching the small town again. Walking down every street, questioning ladies out front sweeping their stoops, brought him no luck. As the sun set his worries grew, and yet he had no idea where his friend could have gone. Maybe he’ll come back if he knows where I am. Exhausted, he returned to the stable and spent a lonely night on the cold floor.

---

Two days passed, and still no sign of his companion anywhere in the town. Divaine spent each day searching the entire town as well as the surrounding fields and nearby forest, looking everywhere. Each day ended in failure, with him returning to the stable to sleep fitfully next to an abandoned demonic scarecrow.

He had asked around, yet no one seemed to have noticed an orc warrior disappearing from their midst. It felt almost like a dream; like Ka’l had never existed in the first place. The quietness of the townsfolk made Divaine mad. How could they have not noticed his companion? Their ignorance stung more than their initial fear at his appearance.

Finally, after going a whole day without food, Divaine stopped at a stall to pick up some bread and venison. His stomach turned but not from hunger; as one of the best trackers of his kind he should have found something by now.

“He’ll crack today.”

Divaine’s ears twitched as they picked up the stray comment from a cloaked stranger

walking past. Trying to act calm, he turned to watch which way the man went.

“It’s been what, two days? Nobody lasts that long. Whatever spell or drug he’s under, it’ll end tonight I’ll bet.”

Two days…

Paying quickly, he took his food and pulled his hood up tightly, slinking into step behind his target. He tried hard not to look suspicious as he slowly followed a few feet behind, listening intently.

“Feels good to get back at ’em, ya know? Think they’re so tough. Like I’ve always said, they’re only tough in a horde. One-on-one, you can take ’em easy.”

“But you don’t hit him one-on-one? You always bring the rest of us. You’ve got Theo and Maddox guarding him even now.”

A heavy grunt. “That’s only so no idiot wanders in and gets himself killed! No telling what that monster’s capable of.”

“Right.” The pair turned around a corner, exiting the center of the town and following a dirt trail out towards the farm houses surrounding it. As the crowds fell away Divaine struggled to stay incognito, memorizing the voices and faces ahead of him.

As they approached a dilapidated old house, the two men slowed.

“Hey, I thought you said Theo and Maddox were guarding today?” the larger, bossier of the two men frowned in concern.

“I left them here this morning. Maybe they’re inside?” They both moved towards a pair of cellar doors on the side of the house. Divaine noticed how the doors were slightly ajar...and his breath caught.

Shit. It’s been two days.

“THEO!!”

The two men rushed down and Divaine gave up on secrecy. Throwing his cloak back he raced after them, hearing the screams before he could get within eyesight. When he finally reached the top of the short stairwell the sunlight beamed down on a scene of absolute carnage.

Two bodies - likely once Theo and Maddox - lay crushed into fleshy walking mats over a dirt floor painted in blood. Above them, their companions flailed as huge fists beat them into a similar human pulp, the sickening crunch of breaking bone adding a counterpoint to the sounds of terror. Divaine couldn’t have saved them if he wanted to, now. He stilled at the top of the steps.

The screams died finally, and after a few moments only faint panting rose from the cellar depths. A hulking shadow, obscured in the shadow of the ceiling overhead, its eyes seemingly glowing in the dark. They showed no signs of recognition or reason; only an intense, animal ferocity.

Divaine had pulled his bow from his back without even thinking, blinking at the arrow now lined up in front of him. He stared back at the glow in the abyss, his mind racing. All the towns they’d passed over to avoid this kind of treatment. All the nights spent in stables or back rooms or cellars, without the comfort of a warm tankard of ale and a friendly conversation. He had held onto this weight for so long - in one breath, he could end it. The townsfolk would revere him. No one would fault him for felling a monster.

--

*The human story which frames this fantasy ends quite sadly - I haven’t the heart to pen it that way. Hence we end here, with Divaine’s moment of conflict.