A Day in the Life – The Medic © KNW 2001
Tadzig checked his kit one last time and threw it on his back, the medical pack was filled to bursting with gauze, needles, silk thread, poultices, and powders and felt like it weighed a ton. He'd always had difficulty with the pack, being somewhat small for an Orc. In fact, he was downright weedy compared to the front line fighters. If not for his skill in medicine, he would have been abandoned in the forest when he was eight. But about that time he took interest in being a medic and had a steady enough hand to thread silk thread through a fine needle, something that won him instant admiration from his teacher and predecessor. Since then he'd risen through the ranks of the medical corps and became the favoured 'doc' to general Ploknag and hadn't swung a sword in his life.
Seeing he was having trouble, Tadzig's favorite nurse (and lover) Risprak hobbled over to help him. Risprak had lost her left leg below the knee to an Elven sword and was no longer combat worthy, something that had left her depressed and frustrated until she met Tadzig. The peg was oaken, carved by her lover from oak and even had a detailed, if not functional, foot at the end. He had nursed her wounds and taught her to walk again, then taught her to live again. Her tunic was a dull gray now, but would be soiled with the blood of the wounded and dead by the end of the shift, and her cherry red hair would be matted and disheveled as well.
Risprak set the pack straight and wondered how she'd fallen for this runty little rascal. He was a sorry looking Orc, scrawny and short, he was half a head shorter than she and weighed maybe two-thirds what she did. But his hands... Oh, those hands. They were magic to her, and while he may not have been as large 'down there', he more than made up for it with the fact that he seemed possessed of the stamina of three soldiers. She'd seem him go without sleep or food for four days doing triage and surgery, then fucked her for an hour before finally falling asleep for a day and a half.
"Ya know," she said to him as she tightened a strap, "why doncha just let me carry da bleedin' ting fer ya?"
He snickered and grabbed his 'little black bag' from the table, "Oi always could use me a pack horse." He turned and snuck around behind her to give her broad ass a quick smack and quickly took a few steps away.
Risprak spun about and nearly lost her balance in the process. He'd always poked fun at her thick hips and buttocks, even when he was poking himself between them, and she knew it was a joke but couldn't help but to make a remark.
"Yew sayin' I gots a horse ass, runt?"
He took a step back and smiled broadly, "I was thinkin' more 'long the lines o' a cow, but at least yew wipe." With that he sprinted out of the tent and saw a metal bowl sail over his head. She'd want his talents tonight to pay for that one, but he didn't mind at all. As he ran, he called out to the rest of his staff and soon twenty others joined him heading to the field, with a platoon of orderlies in tow.
The wounded were lined up in uneven rows, moaning, groaning, and bleeding. Tadzig set up the emotional wall he'd created for such situations and started doing triage as he walked down the rows. He'd assign conditions until he passed twenty who would live and spotted Ploknag's bodyguards carrying the general towards him.
Tadzig saw the general was badly wounded and called for a table. An orderly ran up and began to set up a table made of metal rods and canvass while Tadzig tried to diagnose the general from a distance. The table had been crafted by Dwarves and purchased through middlemen, Tadzig was grateful for such cunning when it came to quality manufacturing.
The table prepared, Ploknag's retinue set him down and began to strip his armour and clothing from wounded areas. Tadzig set his pack down and threaded a needle, while running his eyes over the general and deciding how to proceed.
Ploknag was heavily injured. Blood flowed from wounds on his chest, arms and legs while an arrow protruded from his abdomen. He'd seen the old Orc survive worse and knew every scar on Ploknag's body; he'd treated almost all of them.
The medic quickly stuffed poultices into wounds while giving orders to the retinue. Ploknag's bodyguards had stopped questioning him after the first time Tadzig treated the general and followed accordingly; Tadzig was one of very few Orcs Ploknag actually trusted.
Wounds were bandaged, cuts were stitched, and the old bastard had enough strength to pull the arrow out himself once Tadzig gave him the all-clear. More herbs and a few stitches later, Ploknag was reclining comfortably and recuperating while Tadzig went to work on the rank and file.
Many hours passed and Tadzig was finishing a stitch by torchlight. Ploknag had returned to the front under heavy guard and under orders to stay out of combat. Once the wounded had all been dealt with, Tadzig allowed himself to drain his canteen and sit down. The old general made his way over and sat beside him.
"Great work, kid," he said, lightly punching Tadzig on the shoulder. He'd called him 'kid' since Tadzig had pulled him from the brink of death four winters before and would probably do so until one of them finally went down. "Thank you, sur"
"Chin up, kid. Ye saved a lot o' de boys, and me as well. Got me back to the foight in toim ta win, ya did."
"Good to hear it, sur," Tadzig had always been a pacifist at heart, and had trouble taking compliments after a battle.
"Damnit, boy! Yer da reason we won! Gimme a frakkin' smile!" The general laughed and his retinue echoed his feelings. Tadzig managed a small grin and felt his mood brighten somewhat as Ploknag threw a thick arm over his shoulder. "The town's ours, kid. And there ain't gonna be no retaliation fer a couple days so we gots a chance ta fortify and rest up. I found a cozy little 'ouse next ta where I'll have me office, you and yer nurse can sleep in a real bed tanoit." Ploknag gave an exaggerated wink and his retinue snickered amongst themselves and dispersed. They knew Tadzig's feelings for the peg-legged, big-bottomed, Risprak went a lot deeper than simple lust.
Ploknag barked some orders to a member of his retinue and the Orc sprinted over. "Get me dat Major that took over Zokkul's troops, I wanna talk to her." The old Orc orc stood and looked down at Tadzig, "Ya know, Oi'm really lucky ta have Orcs loik yew and Dofsukel. Makes me 'appy ta see yew young 'uns reach ya potential."
Tadzig looked up to the general with raised brows and was met with a friendly smile and grin. He shook Ploknag's hand and stood up, taking a moment to yawn and stretch out. A real bed would feel great.
- - - - -
Risprak looked the room over. A large four-poster bed dominated the spacious room, silk sheets and down pillows made her eyes widen in disbelief. She looked down at herself, still dirty from nursing and refused to get in until she had washed.
Tadzig was reclining in a stonework tub that could float a dingy, exhausted and filthy, he relished the feeling of warm, soapy water at the end of a long day. He heard the door open and raised his head, grinning at the fleshy form of his lover.
She staggered into the room and undid her bloodstained tunic, letting it fall to the floor. A clasp was undone and her thick mane of sweat-soaked cherry red hair fell about her shoulders like a fiery waterfall. She steadied herself with her good leg and loosened the straps that kept her peg on, then used her muscular arms to guide herself into the great stone tub. She got in facing away from Tadzig, almost pressing her ample posterior into his face as she sat down, then laid back against him. She moaned as the warm water surrounded her and she felt Tadzig's body against hers.
"Ohhhh, dis makes it all worthwhile..." she punctuated her words with a long, slow exhalation and reached her arms back and lightly took hold of Tadzig's head. He leaned forward and rested his chin on her wide shoulder. She felt his arms reach around and clasp themselves on her belly.
"Feels great, don't it. Ploknag picked the place out himself."
"De ol' man really likes ya, don't 'e?"
"Oi've saved 'is loif so many toims, he just wants ta pay me back." Tadzig knew exactly how many times he'd saved Ploknag from death's door, and was positive the old Orc knew as well.
Risprak turned about to face him and they shared a long, deep kiss. They spent the better part of an hour taking turns washing each other, touching each other, and drying each other. Tadzig supported her as they made their way to bed, having left Risprak's peg in the bathroom, and lay her down as soft as he was able.
She almost pulled Tadzig off his feet as she guided him down on top of her naked body. They shared another kiss and Tadzig's member came to attention between them. Risprak broke the kiss and looked deep into Tadzig's eyes, she had something important to say but he could not guess what.
"Tad," she said softly, "we've been together how long? Two winters?"
"Nine seasons," he replied, his memory was exceptional for an Orc.
"I.. I want yew to do som'thin' for me, Tad"
"Name it, Ris, an' it's done."
"Turn me tattoos off, Tad." Tad knew what tattoos she meant. The design that decorated her abdomen protected her from becoming pregnant, and where the only tattoos designed to be activated and deactivated when the need arose. That meant that she wanted to have his pups. That she wanted to bear his progeny into this world. That she truly did love him.
"Yew... yer sure o' this? Ye'll have ta take it easy for a couple seasons."
She took his face in her large hands and whispered to him, "Stop arguin' wit me, runt, and let me love ya."
It took a few minutes for Tadzig to perform the minor magick that would deactivate the tattoo. A quick ritual he had been taught that went along with how to craft such works.
Risprak giggled as the tickling sensation of the tattoo's deactivation was felt. "Yew boys only take up inkin' so ya can test 'em. Lucky bastards." Tadzig sniggered as he knelt between her thighs, she knew that the only way to test an anti-conception tattoo was to have sex with the recipient, plus it was an easy form of payment for the service. Tadzig had done a few of them during quiet times and agreed that the sex was most of the reason. Keeping the females happy so they could fuck anything they wanted kept them in combat, and it doubled the army's size while insuring that only the strong survive to breed. He paused, smiling at the irony: a one-legged female and a weedy medic having pups flew in the face of survival of the fittest.
As he finished, he poised himself to enter her, pausing to ask her if she was really sure this was what she wanted. She reached down to part the lips of her sex with two fingers and licked her lips. There was no confusion of signals there.
Tadzig pushed the head of member into her and felt the wet tightness within. Risprak was a rarity among Orc females, having been faithful to him and not stretching herself by allowing other, larger males into her, a gesture that really meant something to the smaller Tadzig. She took a deep breath as he pushed himself all the way in and took hold of his behind with two thick, strong hands. He pulled back slowly, taking his time; he knew that if he paced himself, he could make this last for hours.
Risprak wrapped her good leg around Tadzig's, she loved the way he took his time when they had they time to take; quick fucks in the medical tent were great before a battle, but the long, slow sessions were what made it worthwhile. She moaned lightly as he spent more than a minute on each stroke, knowing she was in for quite a night.
Time passed, and the sun came up as Tadzig quickened his pace. He picked up speed with each thrust and Risprak's breath came in little gasps with each one. He began to grunt and strain to hold back, waiting for her to climax first. Another half an hour and she pulled him tight to her body. Tadzig felt Risprak's pussy quiver around his cock while her big, beautiful body shuddered below him. He gave in and started to shoot his seed into her waiting womb. They held each other close as Risprak's orgasm died down and she felt Tadzig filling her with his love. They fell into slumber without a word on the great bed as the sun's first rays fell on the far wall.
- - - - -
Tadzig awoke alone, the twilight made the room seem surreal and he wondered how long she'd left him sleep. He yawned and stretched and scratched himself, then told his stomach to be patient and stop growling at him. As if on cue, he could hear the clomp clomp of Risprak coming up the stairs and the smell of cooked meat wafted into the room. Tadzig's mouth watered as he watched Risprak enter the room with a heavily loaded tray of food.
"Babe, yer too good ta me," he said, his eyes switching back and forth from the food to Risprak's silk-covered body. She set the tray down in the middle of the bed and sat down opposite Tadzig, allowing the voluminous silk gown to let her cleavage peek through. The tray held half a dozen steaks, a pitcher of milk, fine bread and some strange orange fruits. Risprak's appearance rivaled that of the food, she smelled of perfume and her hair looked as though it had been brushed a thousand times.
"Eat up, lover," she said in a smoky voice, "the human army shows up tomorrow, and I wanna make sure I have a pup in the oven before they show up."
Tadzig took a big swig of milk and picked up the orange fruit. Life was good for a medic. Life was good indeed.
"I gots to admit, it's a dirty, shitty job dealin' wit' the half-dead an' de
smell o' blood in the air, but I weren't made for swingin' a sword, I wuz
made ta keep da swords swingin'."
Tadzig-od-Sargok, Chief Medical Officer to the United Orc Armies,
As dictated to Gorruk Plinthale for his book, "Orcs of the Continent",
Standard Year 7916 (-415 Imperial Years).