Mike jumped off as soon as Red landed, putting himself far enough away from the dragon to avoid being unapproachable, but close enough that none of the combative parties would think him vulnerable to attack. While he was waiting for the leaders of both armies to arrive, he took a moment to survey the situation.
The milling chaos he's caused by showing up had largely quieted down now that he and Red were on the ground. Soldiers from both factions were openly staring at him, briefly united by their mutual confusion and uncertainty.
By all appearances, he'd interrupted what should have been a crushing victory for the Almirans. Just going by the number of orc casualties that he could see, one could argue that such a victory had already taken place, but it was clear he'd interceded at the moment the cavalry force was attempting to capitalize on the success of its initial charge.
[It seems I've manged to avoid the worst case scenario, where our allies managed to completely wipe out the Tenundian side. That'd be a bit awkward, right after we'd completed a cease fire. Still, this is going to be difficult to manage diplomatically.]
As he was thinking, a group of about twenty orcs broke free from the circle which had formed around him and Red, and approached. Based on their appearances alone, it seemed like they were composed of two distinct factions. He guessed that these were the leaders of the orcs allied with the Tenundians, along with their escorts.
The members of first faction were dressed almost entirely in leathers, with bones of various sizes and shapes sewn into them. What skin they left exposed was covered in elaborate designs made with a chalky white war paint. This culminated on their heads and faces, which were uniformly shaved and painted with a grinning skull.
The others were wearing darker colors, primarily a mix of greys and browns. While it was difficult to tell, Mike thought these orcs were a little poorer. Something about their pinched faces and thin limbs suggested malnutrition. The only effort at decoration amongst them seemed to be lines of dark red tattooed into the skin of their faces. The meaning wasn't very clear, but he noticed that the orcs that looked to be older and had more scars also tended to have more lines.
[Some kind of status markings?]
Once the orcs were a few meters away, they halted and allowed two of their number, one from each group, to approach. On the left was an orc from the white painted tribe. He wasn't particularly tall or muscular, but had a veritable network of scars on his limbs and face, attesting to a long history of violence. The painted skull on his face had been recently marred by drops of blood. A longbow and a quiver of arrows was slung over one of his shoulders, and several daggers were strapped to various parts of his body.
The one on the right was more of a stereotypical orc leader, standing close to 2 meters tall and probably weighing around 120 kg, primarily of muscle from the looks of it. Although he was only wearing a rough and battered suit of leather armor, his weapon served as a demonstration of his status as the head of his tribe. A massive warhammer rested across his broad shoulders, seemingly made entirely of a dull grey metal that resembled the material used in Brenden's sword. Greasy black hair hung in clumps from his head, and an extensive beard covered much of his jaw, although it was shaved to show off over a dozen of the tattooed lines of his people. The most Mike had seen so far.
"Hmph. So this is the whelp that the manlings are afraid of. Not much to look at." The larger orc muttered to his fellow with a sneer. "Makes sense, when you think about the leader they chose to ally with."
"I would be careful what you say, Jurtrik." The second replied cautiously, eyes never leaving Mike. "You never know who might be listening, and whether or not they understand you, even when you speak in our tongue."
"You worry too much, Huthar." The orc apparently named Jurtrik said casually, with a wave of his hand.
"And you don't worry enough, which is why we are in this mess in the first place."
"...You blaming me for this?"
Suddenly tension filled the air between the two, and Mike noticed a shift in both of their stances which suggested that they were preparing to attack one another.
Deciding that it would be best to redirect their attention before their alliance broke down entirely, Mike stepped forward. "Alright, that's quite enough."
Both of them snapped their gazes towards him, and he could tell they were shocked.
"You know our ton-" Huthar started before Mike cut him off.
"Yes, yes. I can speak your language, now can we discuss something a bit more important. You are the leaders of the orcs allied with the Tenundians, correct?"
Huthar bristled slightly at his dismissive tone, but evidently thought better about making it an issue. After a few moments, he nodded a greeting and introduced himself. "Indeed we are. I am Huthar, chief of the Skulltakers." He motioned to his fellow, "This is Jur-"
"I can speak for myself, weakling." The larger orc interrupted, earning himself a scowl from his supposed ally. "You can refer to me as Jurtrik the Blooded, chief of the Bloodtongues."
Mike nodded. "I am the Dragonknight Erasmus. Now, I've come before you all to discuss something vital to the survival of all living beings on the central continen-"
"You're supposed to be strong, right?" Jurtrik cut in while wearing a slightly strange smile. He started leaning forward slightly, and adjusted the position of his feet.
"What in the hells are you doing, fool?!" Huthar exclaimed while taking a step back, as if to remove himself from the danger zone.
"Hmph. You're the fool if you think I'm going to sit here and be prattled at by a whelp who's barely old enough to step out onto the battlefield. Now come boy, and let me show you what a real warrior..."
The orc trailed off and slowly shifted his gaze upwards. A small tremor passed through his body, and his skin paled slightly. Mike didn't have to turn around to know that Red had come up behind him, and was now looming over the meeting in a threatening manner.
"While I appreciate your concerns about my abilities," He commented dryly, "I have to ask that you keep them to yourself until such time as we deal with more pressing matters. Is that understood?"
Jurtrik shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts, before finally grunting his assent. He turned around as if he no longer cared about the situation, but Mike noted with some amusement that he took the opportunity to put a little more distance between himself and the dragon.
"Having fun?" Sera asked while walking up to join him. She and Tal had apparently climbed down from their perch while he was busy dealing with the orcs.
"More or less," He replied cheerfully, before leaning over and whispering, "Although, I'm beginning to see why these guys were losing so badly before we stepped in."
Straightening, he turned back to address the orc leaders. "Now, do you know where the representatives for the other side are? I feel like its taking a while for them to get here."
Huthar shrugged, and then motioned in the direction of a large knot of orcs some ways to the east. "The last I heard, they were fighting with the rest of the Ashborn over there. We had them encircled until the cavalry arrived."
Mike scanned the crowd of onlookers, noticing a group pushing their way to the front. It looked like they'd been delayed by the concentration of fighters still milling about uncertainly. However, he saw what an orc and and a human approaching.
He was going to call out to them when they broke through the crowd, but stopped when he finally got a good look at them. A smile started forming on his face unconsciously, as he started walking up to meet them.
----------------------------------
"This time, for sure, I will defeat him. Mark my words. I have been training for this ever since that day." Talgratha was saying as they approached the dragon. Morris could practically hear the smug grin he knew she was wearing, without even having to turn around.
"Judging from his manner of arrival, I'd bet he's been improving as well." He countered, suspecting that his friend had long ago surpassed both of them.
"Hmm...you have a point. He has probably become a powerful mage." She replied with a frown. "However, it matters not to me. We shall compete in a contest of arms. No doubt I still enjoy a considerable advantage in that field."
He recalled how quickly Mike had picked up his martial arts skills all those years ago, and found himself doubting that sentiment. Nevertheless, he didn't want to discourage her. He figured circumstances would do that for him.
"Well, you should have a chance to challenge him, because here he comes now."
He indicated the young man who was rapidly closing the distance. It wasn't long before he'd reached them.
"Morris!" Mike yelled excitedly before wrapping the older man in a hug. "It feels like its been ages."
"Urk...That it has." Morris replied in a strained voice, rib cage too compressed for him to speak clearly.
[He's definitely gotten stronger.]
"Oops, sorry. Anyway, what are you doing here? Are you with the coalition army?"
"Ah, well I'm technically in charge of it at the moment." Morris said with mild embarrassment, doing his best to ignore the direct contradiction to that statement, who happened to be standing nearby with an increasingly irritated look on her face.
Mike looked at him seriously for a few moments, before speaking. "...I see. Where is your father? I was told he was responsible for putting all this together. I was supposed to deliver a message to him."
[It makes sense that he would ask that, but it still stings a bit.]
"While we were passing Wyrmrest Lake, he embarked with a large portion of the Graveston house troops onto a fleet of Theldon naval vessels. However, he wouldn't tell me where he was going, only that it was vitally important that I keep the army here at the crossroads until further notice." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he feared that some leaked through anyway.
"So, he mysteriously vanished one day while giving you cryptic directions and expecting complete obedience? Sounds like he's the same as ever." There was a sympathetic smile on Mike's face.
Morris couldn't help but chuckle at that. "You've got a point."
"Who's this? An old friend?" A silver haired girl asked while walking up to join them in the company of a bored looking elf woman.
"Ah! I suppose you haven't met yet. This is Morris, who can arguably be called my oldest friend. If it wasn't for him and a few others, I would have probably been eaten by some monster or another a long time ago." Mike answered enthusiastically.
Morris nodded a greeting as his friend continued with the introductions. "And these are some of my current friends, Sera and Tal. The two of them, along with a guy who isn't here at the moment, have been with me since Wyrport. They've been helping me stay out of too much trouble."
"Hmph." The one named Sera snorted. "As if we could do that. I'm sure you are aware that this guy is basically cursed with unusual luck. Honestly, we just try to avoid getting caught up in the fallout of his problems.
"Hey! Its not that bad!" Mike protested, a little unconvincingly.
The elf shook her head before muttering in an emotionless manner, "It's tough."
"You too, Tal..."
Morris chuckled again. He was glad that his friend had managed to find others to accompany him on his journey, especially considering his title, which came with so much extra baggage. A few helping hands would make that burden easier.
[Speaking of which, that doesn't really explain this situation...]
"By the way Mike, do you mind if I ask what's going on with the dragon?"
His friend glanced back at the massive reptilian creature as if he'd completely forgotten about it. "Ah! Well, its a bit of a long story, but for all intents and purposes, I am a Dragonknight." He leaned in a bit closer and whispered, "I'll explain more later, when we aren't in such a public forum."
"Oh, and this is Audra. I found her egg while I was fighting a kraken." He continued while pulling out a small, blue dragon who promptly nipped at his hand before climbing back into his pocket. "Unfortunately, she's still a bit mad at me."
Morris sighed, feeling the old, familiar headache coming on. He'd forgotten how stressful it was to deal with Mike and his shenanigans.
[There's a lot to process here, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that he's still getting into these kinds of situations.]
"Sounds like we have a lot to catch up on, but it's good-" Morris started before he was interrupted.
"How much longer are you going to ignore me?!" Talgratha exploded while stalking over to stand in front of Mike. "I will not be ridiculed by one such as yourself."
"Ah, sorry about that. I got caught up in meeting my old friend." Mike replied apologetically.
"Hmph, whatever. It matters not." She returned, far more subdued than Morris thought she'd be. "It has been a long time human. I hope you are ready for our rematch."
She clenched her first, excitement leaking out of her every gesture. "This time for sure I will defeat you, and make you bend to me."
Mike stared at her for a few moments, before finally scratching the back of his head. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"Pft." Morris laughed. He honestly couldn't help it.