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"Are you sure master?"

"Yes, I'm sure" said the rich farmer to his farmhand, as he helped loading the cart. "It won't be a problem!"

"But... but King Camilo III had ordered to retreat! The Dark Legion of the Demons are coming!" he said, anxious, while the farmer, his wife and family took their places in the overloaded cart.

"Yes, they are coming, but our farm is far away from any important roads! No de mon army will come marching down here! Just remember how it was during the Sargonic Wars!"

The farmhand boy hadn't even been born then, in the wars that ragged all over Sargos. He still doubted.

"Shouldn't I follow the King's order too, and follow you, master?"

The farmer sat uncomfortable in the bench of the cart. "Boy. We need to go, because the King ordered to retreat... but somebody surely must stay, to attend the animals we couldn't get, and to hide the grain, and tend the crops!!

Now it may be summer, but somebody must attend this, or when we return in winter, it will be all but hunger!"

"... you will return?" the boy asked, anxious. He had heard the Priest of the chapel claim, it was the Final Judgement and the End of Days, what heralded the invasion of the Dark Legion.

"Yes, we will" the farmer said. Then he looked around, and leaning closer to the farmhand, spoke in a conspiring voice. "Do you want to hear a secret?"

"Yes?"

"The church and the nobles may want us to forget... but the in the last war against the demons, war wasn't so succesful."

"Yes?"

"Yeah. Demons conquered and occupied all these lands" the Farmer said, showing around with his hands the fields. "All the Five Kingdoms of the Northwest where conquered... and there still are humans, right?"

"Yes?"

"Yes." the farmer said. "Because after the initial chaos, the initial invasion, demons quite much wanted the same as other -human- conquerors. They left the farmers return to their farms, and pay taxes. Sure, they wanted humans to worship them, but they didn't even banned christianity, but asked for their statues to be in the churches... Of course many rebelled, but the demons had the power, and so would be almost for a decade until the lords returned with the High Elves!

And this time will be the same! Just like during the Sargonic Wars! During the invasion, chaos and destruction: but the Lords needs the taxes, be them human or demonic, so they need somebody working the farmlands!

So in winter we return, either with the victorious king Camilo III and the High Elves from over the sea again, or, to pay taxes to the demons!"

the farmhand gawked, surprised. He was always surprised by how much his master knew. He knew how to read, and was friend with a former monk, who had studied in the University of Don Camilo, before leaving his habits. He knew so many things!

"The elves?"

"Yeah, they are our allies. Where so at least last time!" the farmer said. the farmhand had never seen elves before, and only knew they had pointy ears. He had always wanted to knew elves!"

"So don't be afraid boy, just be careful!" the Farmer said, before leaving with his family. "Take care of the farm! There won't be a demonic army marching up to our farm, but routiers, bandits, wolves and deserters are a danger! Don't sleep in the house or the barn! It's summer, so sleep outside in the forest, with an eye into the roads! Hide if you see anybody, and take care to hide in different parts some grain and reserves for winter, when and if the raiders come!"

"Yes master!"

"...And be as careful of refugees as of Dark Legionaries!! Desperate, they could be as dangerous to get what you are looking after!"

"Yes master!" the farmhand said. The farmer family waved goodbye, as the cart rolled out of the farm. The boy doubted, before calling.

"Master!!"

"yes?"

"... How do I know who are Dark Legionaries?!" He had only heard of the Dark Legion of Demons and their servants, in stories in the tavern, the church and bedtime stories her nana once told him.

"Look out for ugly, crooked legged and tusked monsters!" the farmer said as he was leaving. The farmhand nodded.

"Well... she doesn't look ugly and croocked legged for sure" he thought, hidding in the bushes as he looked to the farm, where a single girl had walked into and was poking stuff with a sharp stick.

Despise the warnings of the farmer, he had helped some fleeing refugees: in these days, he had meet more diverse people than ever before: first the farmers and serfs of the near lands who he knew well, who tried to convince him to follow them.

Then some soldiers, who stole a pig, who joked about conscripting him for the King's Army. He didn't followed them.

Then, passed by some people of the city. He always wondered, how the city looked like. They had fear in their eyes, as they where escaping the Dark Legion. They stole all the remaining chickens, despise he offered them before leaving a good soup and other provisions. He was rather sad for the chickens. The farmer would be dissapointed.

The last refugee he had meet wasn't from the Kingdom of Sargos, but Degoland. A peddler, used to traveling, who spoke in a heavily accented Sargonic. He happily shared with him the last eggs. He warned him that after him there was a group of fleeing Grey elves, and that Dark Legion routiers where near in the region -goblin, orc and kanov marauders-, so he should be careful and leave the farm, hidding deeper in the forest.

He wanted to do so, but he wanted to follow the orders of the farmer... and to see the elves...

And now, was this girl in the farm, poking stuff with a sharpened stick, and he wondered what to do.

"She doesn't look like a monster" he decided. But she was almost naked, and had grey skin. And pointy ears.

"....mmm..." the farmhand wondered. "Maybe it's a refugee, who lost everything, ever her clothes? Some refugees didn't had much on them..."

She had pointy ears, so she could be an elf, no?

Then again, he hadn't heard that elves had grey skin...

but the peddler said, the refugees that where behind him where grey elves... Maybe he meant by that, that they have grey skin?"

The girl, who had broken into the farm house, was now throwing out to the court some of the furniture, as she was surely looking for something... surely food or clothes, the poor thing, the farmhand decided.

He would help that poor grey elven maiden!

He came out of the bushes, and ran into the farm, calling her out -he could find something for her much easily if she isn't throwing everything to the court!

Surprised by the yelling, the grey elven maiden came outside, pointing at him her pointy stick and with a menacing growl. Wow. He didn't knew elves had such sharp teeth!

He tried to calm her, but she didn't seem to understand. Of course, she doesn't speak Sargonic, the farmhand thought. And the poor thing is scared, thinking I'm a bandit!!

He tried to calm her down with gestures, showing he was unarmed and didn't had armful intentions. The elf girl seemed suspicious at first, but then she smiled with her sharp teeth, and grabbed him by his shirt, before dragging him inside the farm house.

She said something, but he didn't knew what she said. He had heard in stories, elven language was quite musical... what she said, sounded instead very gutural. And it didn't sound like somebody being grateful, but commanding orders. She seemed happy anyway, so he didn't reflected further on this, as he went for some of the hidden food, presenting it to the elf.

She smiled, and while she filled her mouth with Sweet Rolls, she pointed the furniture with her stick -A rather poor weapon!-, barking something while spitting crumbs.

He went for some of the old clothes of one of the daughters of the farmer, so the elven maiden could wear them. But as he presented them, the girl checked them, before throwing them out to the courtyard. She took however a pair of booths.

She demanded something again, but he didn't knew what she was asking. The elf rolled her eyes, and took one of her own, old and weared marching boots out, and took out a small copper coin, but very shiny.

Money? The farmer hadn't any left. He knew before leaving, he buried somewhere a pot with all his coins and the few jewels of his wife and daughters. The farmhand raised his shoulders.

The girl pouted, while the boy looked for some more food -a cheese- and other clothes that maybe she prefeered.

She loved the cheese, and again, wasn't interested in the clothes -well, not in the clothes themselves. The shirt he had handed to her, had brass buttons. Her eyes flashed with the shine of the metallic buttons, and she quickly teared them appart, slipping the buttons along with her shiny copper coin.

The farmboy didn't know what to do next.

The grey elf girl smiled then. She knew quite well what to do, as she dragged him along from his shirt to the bed.

"... well..." the farmboy decided. "In the end, elves KNEW how to be grateful!" he thought, as he walked out of the farm house with a dumb smile and wondering how he could fix his breaches the elf had teared appart...

When he noticed in the courtyard, there was yet other Grey elf maiden, armed with a proper spear.

She frowned at him, pointing the spear at him. The Farmhand made again reasuring gestures, but the half naked elf woman didn't seemed to trust him anymore.

However, as the first elf girl jumped from behind into his back, hugging him, the other one seemed perplexed at first, but as she lowered her spear, she as well smiled, with these sharp teeth elves seemed to have.

Time to get more cheese and buttons, the farmboy thought.

"...I would say, elves are the most grateful people I know" the tired farmhand thought, as he left again the house. The two elfettes -thats how you call a female elf? he had simply NO idea- where left snoring in the house, but he needed to go to tend the animals that the farm still had, that he had hidden in a clearing...

but again, in the court, he was greeted by spears of two angry little elven girls, clad like the other two and growling at him.

"How come they all lost their clothes?" the Farmhand wondered, as he raised his arms again, to show he wasn't armed. "Maybe Grey elves just dress like that?

He was quite sure, the church wouldn't like that. Maybe that's why the priests spoke so badly of elves?

They have accused them of lust as well. Now he could testify that part it's true, at least.

... uhm...

He will a confession, once this is over, the farmboy thought, as he invited into the farmhouse the elven women. They showed him to the side, and while one stayed with him, pointing hear spear at him, the other registered the house.

Then, he heard some yelling. Surely, she had found the other elven refugees!!

She kicked them out of bed, out into the courtyard. The last two seemed dissapointed at something, and where angrily discussing and nagging the other two, who seemed to try to apology. Then the first two elven maidens -well maybe they where maidens before this? the farmhand wondered. Probably not, he decided- pointed at him, saying something on their tongue to the other two.

He rolled his eyes, and decided to go for some food for the other two. Surely they where discussing because they are hungry and want provisions too, no?

He went to the house, and returned with the last cheese. But as he returned to the courtyard, the four elves where smiling with their sharp grins at him.

One picked up the cheese wheel, while the other three dragged him to the barn.

Chandry rode her wolf, cursing to the Abyss. The large war warg was sniffing the air, trying to find out where her deserters had went. Deseters, that's was what these rookies where: they where sent to forage, never to appear again!!

She will show them the whip when she find them, and ensure they are first in the line for the assault on the next castle they have to storm!!

The ozcura officer cursed again. Caught in a Summer Storm, her armor was drenched in this forsaken night. She hated her command. When she was first told in Entartea, she was going to be a leader of her own band, she couldn't be more excited. Until she learnt, she was to command a bunch of Ozcurillas in what would be their first campaign, where they will become Ozcuras.

Curse them.

For these sort of things, normally they choose an experienced officer, who knew how to deal with untested warriors. And normally, the first battles of new warriors was in small raids, near their homelands... not across the damn world.

But the demons mobilized most of the warriors of Polforia for this campaign on the west -be them ready or not-, and she was the one now trying to herd these Ozcurillas, to become Ozcuras!!

But no a single battle until now to test their metal, and only cold, sacked battlefields for her ozcuras, so there wasn't any loot either. Always where they had marched, there had been before thousands of green, red and grey orcs, kanovs and humans, demons and beast men. Always hungry as well, as there was nothing to forrage -but the fallen ones of days before, if you wanted some meat-

When they crossed the river, for the first time they where to march in lands that hadn't been conquered -at least an opportunity for loot and forraging!!

But first time forraging, and her damned rookies instead dissapear!!

And she won't have deserters! Demons have already severly warned squad leaders and officers, they would be held responsable for any deserters, and she didn't wanted her own skin whipped!!

if they wanted to desert, they should desert with her in front of them, that's it!!
There's a Hierarchy for something, for crying out loud!

The wolf finally brought her to a farm: the doors where broken, and out in the courtyard, was some human clothes and furnitures... but there was light coming out of the barn. The warg didn't seemed to smell any enemy, but instead seemed to sense her four lost warriors.

She jumped down from the wolf, and with her sword out, she walked toward it, opening the door with a kick.

Precisely there where the four lost forragers, warm and comfy -and with a human boy!-, while she was out that night in the summer storm, looking for her!!

The tired human looked up to her.

"Help!" he seemed to beg, exhausted.

Surprised by her sudden apparence, the ozcuras looked up at her

"hullo boss" one of them said with a regretful voice.

Chandry, with her armor dripping, looked at the lost ozcuras, human boy, and warm, cozy, cozy barn...

Eck, she could dissapear as well some time.

"Make a spot for me!" she ordered, as she began untying her armor.

The pose it's based on one I saw in deviantart "free for use", but don't remember the piece I'm afraid. : U

As you can see, these "grey elves" of the farmhand are actually Ozcuras grey orcs! : U

Description


Mature Content


Mature Content


Mature Content


Mature Content

"Are you sure master?"

"Yes, I'm sure" said the rich farmer to his farmhand, as he helped loading the cart. "It won't be a problem!"

"But... but King Camilo III had ordered to retreat! The Dark Legion of the Demons are coming!" he said, anxious, while the farmer, his wife and family took their places in the overloaded cart.

"Yes, they are coming, but our farm is far away from any important roads! No de mon army will come marching down here! Just remember how it was during the Sargonic Wars!"

The farmhand boy hadn't even been born then, in the wars that ragged all over Sargos. He still doubted.

"Shouldn't I follow the King's order too, and follow you, master?"

The farmer sat uncomfortable in the bench of the cart. "Boy. We need to go, because the King ordered to retreat... but somebody surely must stay, to attend the animals we couldn't get, and to hide the grain, and tend the crops!!

Now it may be summer, but somebody must attend this, or when we return in winter, it will be all but hunger!"

"... you will return?" the boy asked, anxious. He had heard the Priest of the chapel claim, it was the Final Judgement and the End of Days, what heralded the invasion of the Dark Legion.

"Yes, we will" the farmer said. Then he looked around, and leaning closer to the farmhand, spoke in a conspiring voice. "Do you want to hear a secret?"

"Yes?"

"The church and the nobles may want us to forget... but the in the last war against the demons, war wasn't so succesful."

"Yes?"

"Yeah. Demons conquered and occupied all these lands" the Farmer said, showing around with his hands the fields. "All the Five Kingdoms of the Northwest where conquered... and there still are humans, right?"

"Yes?"

"Yes." the farmer said. "Because after the initial chaos, the initial invasion, demons quite much wanted the same as other -human- conquerors. They left the farmers return to their farms, and pay taxes. Sure, they wanted humans to worship them, but they didn't even banned christianity, but asked for their statues to be in the churches... Of course many rebelled, but the demons had the power, and so would be almost for a decade until the lords returned with the High Elves!

And this time will be the same! Just like during the Sargonic Wars! During the invasion, chaos and destruction: but the Lords needs the taxes, be them human or demonic, so they need somebody working the farmlands!

So in winter we return, either with the victorious king Camilo III and the High Elves from over the sea again, or, to pay taxes to the demons!"

the farmhand gawked, surprised. He was always surprised by how much his master knew. He knew how to read, and was friend with a former monk, who had studied in the University of Don Camilo, before leaving his habits. He knew so many things!

"The elves?"

"Yeah, they are our allies. Where so at least last time!" the farmer said. the farmhand had never seen elves before, and only knew they had pointy ears. He had always wanted to knew elves!"

"So don't be afraid boy, just be careful!" the Farmer said, before leaving with his family. "Take care of the farm! There won't be a demonic army marching up to our farm, but routiers, bandits, wolves and deserters are a danger! Don't sleep in the house or the barn! It's summer, so sleep outside in the forest, with an eye into the roads! Hide if you see anybody, and take care to hide in different parts some grain and reserves for winter, when and if the raiders come!"

"Yes master!"

"...And be as careful of refugees as of Dark Legionaries!! Desperate, they could be as dangerous to get what you are looking after!"

"Yes master!" the farmhand said. The farmer family waved goodbye, as the cart rolled out of the farm. The boy doubted, before calling.

"Master!!"

"yes?"

"... How do I know who are Dark Legionaries?!" He had only heard of the Dark Legion of Demons and their servants, in stories in the tavern, the church and bedtime stories her nana once told him.

"Look out for ugly, crooked legged and tusked monsters!" the farmer said as he was leaving. The farmhand nodded.

"Well... she doesn't look ugly and croocked legged for sure" he thought, hidding in the bushes as he looked to the farm, where a single girl had walked into and was poking stuff with a sharp stick.

Despise the warnings of the farmer, he had helped some fleeing refugees: in these days, he had meet more diverse people than ever before: first the farmers and serfs of the near lands who he knew well, who tried to convince him to follow them.

Then some soldiers, who stole a pig, who joked about conscripting him for the King's Army. He didn't followed them.

Then, passed by some people of the city. He always wondered, how the city looked like. They had fear in their eyes, as they where escaping the Dark Legion. They stole all the remaining chickens, despise he offered them before leaving a good soup and other provisions. He was rather sad for the chickens. The farmer would be dissapointed.

The last refugee he had meet wasn't from the Kingdom of Sargos, but Degoland. A peddler, used to traveling, who spoke in a heavily accented Sargonic. He happily shared with him the last eggs. He warned him that after him there was a group of fleeing Grey elves, and that Dark Legion routiers where near in the region -goblin, orc and kanov marauders-, so he should be careful and leave the farm, hidding deeper in the forest.

He wanted to do so, but he wanted to follow the orders of the farmer... and to see the elves...

And now, was this girl in the farm, poking stuff with a sharpened stick, and he wondered what to do.

"She doesn't look like a monster" he decided. But she was almost naked, and had grey skin. And pointy ears.

"....mmm..." the farmhand wondered. "Maybe it's a refugee, who lost everything, ever her clothes? Some refugees didn't had much on them..."

She had pointy ears, so she could be an elf, no?

Then again, he hadn't heard that elves had grey skin...

but the peddler said, the refugees that where behind him where grey elves... Maybe he meant by that, that they have grey skin?"

The girl, who had broken into the farm house, was now throwing out to the court some of the furniture, as she was surely looking for something... surely food or clothes, the poor thing, the farmhand decided.

He would help that poor grey elven maiden!

He came out of the bushes, and ran into the farm, calling her out -he could find something for her much easily if she isn't throwing everything to the court!

Surprised by the yelling, the grey elven maiden came outside, pointing at him her pointy stick and with a menacing growl. Wow. He didn't knew elves had such sharp teeth!

He tried to calm her, but she didn't seem to understand. Of course, she doesn't speak Sargonic, the farmhand thought. And the poor thing is scared, thinking I'm a bandit!!

He tried to calm her down with gestures, showing he was unarmed and didn't had armful intentions. The elf girl seemed suspicious at first, but then she smiled with her sharp teeth, and grabbed him by his shirt, before dragging him inside the farm house.

She said something, but he didn't knew what she said. He had heard in stories, elven language was quite musical... what she said, sounded instead very gutural. And it didn't sound like somebody being grateful, but commanding orders. She seemed happy anyway, so he didn't reflected further on this, as he went for some of the hidden food, presenting it to the elf.

She smiled, and while she filled her mouth with Sweet Rolls, she pointed the furniture with her stick -A rather poor weapon!-, barking something while spitting crumbs.

He went for some of the old clothes of one of the daughters of the farmer, so the elven maiden could wear them. But as he presented them, the girl checked them, before throwing them out to the courtyard. She took however a pair of booths.

She demanded something again, but he didn't knew what she was asking. The elf rolled her eyes, and took one of her own, old and weared marching boots out, and took out a small copper coin, but very shiny.

Money? The farmer hadn't any left. He knew before leaving, he buried somewhere a pot with all his coins and the few jewels of his wife and daughters. The farmhand raised his shoulders.

The girl pouted, while the boy looked for some more food -a cheese- and other clothes that maybe she prefeered.

She loved the cheese, and again, wasn't interested in the clothes -well, not in the clothes themselves. The shirt he had handed to her, had brass buttons. Her eyes flashed with the shine of the metallic buttons, and she quickly teared them appart, slipping the buttons along with her shiny copper coin.

The farmboy didn't know what to do next.

The grey elf girl smiled then. She knew quite well what to do, as she dragged him along from his shirt to the bed.

"... well..." the farmboy decided. "In the end, elves KNEW how to be grateful!" he thought, as he walked out of the farm house with a dumb smile and wondering how he could fix his breaches the elf had teared appart...

When he noticed in the courtyard, there was yet other Grey elf maiden, armed with a proper spear.

She frowned at him, pointing the spear at him. The Farmhand made again reasuring gestures, but the half naked elf woman didn't seemed to trust him anymore.

However, as the first elf girl jumped from behind into his back, hugging him, the other one seemed perplexed at first, but as she lowered her spear, she as well smiled, with these sharp teeth elves seemed to have.

Time to get more cheese and buttons, the farmboy thought.

"...I would say, elves are the most grateful people I know" the tired farmhand thought, as he left again the house. The two elfettes -thats how you call a female elf? he had simply NO idea- where left snoring in the house, but he needed to go to tend the animals that the farm still had, that he had hidden in a clearing...

but again, in the court, he was greeted by spears of two angry little elven girls, clad like the other two and growling at him.

"How come they all lost their clothes?" the Farmhand wondered, as he raised his arms again, to show he wasn't armed. "Maybe Grey elves just dress like that?

He was quite sure, the church wouldn't like that. Maybe that's why the priests spoke so badly of elves?

They have accused them of lust as well. Now he could testify that part it's true, at least.

... uhm...

He will a confession, once this is over, the farmboy thought, as he invited into the farmhouse the elven women. They showed him to the side, and while one stayed with him, pointing hear spear at him, the other registered the house.

Then, he heard some yelling. Surely, she had found the other elven refugees!!

She kicked them out of bed, out into the courtyard. The last two seemed dissapointed at something, and where angrily discussing and nagging the other two, who seemed to try to apology. Then the first two elven maidens -well maybe they where maidens before this? the farmhand wondered. Probably not, he decided- pointed at him, saying something on their tongue to the other two.

He rolled his eyes, and decided to go for some food for the other two. Surely they where discussing because they are hungry and want provisions too, no?

He went to the house, and returned with the last cheese. But as he returned to the courtyard, the four elves where smiling with their sharp grins at him.

One picked up the cheese wheel, while the other three dragged him to the barn.

Chandry rode her wolf, cursing to the Abyss. The large war warg was sniffing the air, trying to find out where her deserters had went. Deseters, that's was what these rookies where: they where sent to forage, never to appear again!!

She will show them the whip when she find them, and ensure they are first in the line for the assault on the next castle they have to storm!!

The ozcura officer cursed again. Caught in a Summer Storm, her armor was drenched in this forsaken night. She hated her command. When she was first told in Entartea, she was going to be a leader of her own band, she couldn't be more excited. Until she learnt, she was to command a bunch of Ozcurillas in what would be their first campaign, where they will become Ozcuras.

Curse them.

For these sort of things, normally they choose an experienced officer, who knew how to deal with untested warriors. And normally, the first battles of new warriors was in small raids, near their homelands... not across the damn world.

But the demons mobilized most of the warriors of Polforia for this campaign on the west -be them ready or not-, and she was the one now trying to herd these Ozcurillas, to become Ozcuras!!

But no a single battle until now to test their metal, and only cold, sacked battlefields for her ozcuras, so there wasn't any loot either. Always where they had marched, there had been before thousands of green, red and grey orcs, kanovs and humans, demons and beast men. Always hungry as well, as there was nothing to forrage -but the fallen ones of days before, if you wanted some meat-

When they crossed the river, for the first time they where to march in lands that hadn't been conquered -at least an opportunity for loot and forraging!!

But first time forraging, and her damned rookies instead dissapear!!

And she won't have deserters! Demons have already severly warned squad leaders and officers, they would be held responsable for any deserters, and she didn't wanted her own skin whipped!!

if they wanted to desert, they should desert with her in front of them, that's it!!
There's a Hierarchy for something, for crying out loud!

The wolf finally brought her to a farm: the doors where broken, and out in the courtyard, was some human clothes and furnitures... but there was light coming out of the barn. The warg didn't seemed to smell any enemy, but instead seemed to sense her four lost warriors.

She jumped down from the wolf, and with her sword out, she walked toward it, opening the door with a kick.

Precisely there where the four lost forragers, warm and comfy -and with a human boy!-, while she was out that night in the summer storm, looking for her!!

The tired human looked up to her.

"Help!" he seemed to beg, exhausted.

Surprised by her sudden apparence, the ozcuras looked up at her

"hullo boss" one of them said with a regretful voice.

Chandry, with her armor dripping, looked at the lost ozcuras, human boy, and warm, cozy, cozy barn...

Eck, she could dissapear as well some time.

"Make a spot for me!" she ordered, as she began untying her armor.

The pose it's based on one I saw in deviantart "free for use", but don't remember the piece I'm afraid. : U

As you can see, these "grey elves" of the farmhand are actually Ozcuras grey orcs! : U