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Dar'gul quietly sipped at his drink as his eyes wandered about the dining hall. He had participated in yet another successful raid and was treated to a victory banquet. Not that he could fully enjoy it, what with him being pregnant and all. He occasionally rubbed the sweat off his forehead as he took all the sounds and smells in.

“Yo, Dar'gul,” one of the orcs called. “You haven't spoken up in a while! You feeling okay?” Dar'gul simply nodded to alleviate his fellow orc’s worries. He didn't truly feel like talking today. He felt especially miserable. Carrying infant orcling avatars was bad enough, but to do so while fighting a ferocious battle was especially taxing. Not helping matters were the occasional smacks and jabs on his person that sent every nerve in his body on fire.

“You really need to talk more!” the fellow orc cheered, giving Dar'gul a hefty pat on the back and sending the latter into a wince. “Just cause you're pregnant doesn't mean you can't relax every once in awhile! You're too serious!” Dar'gul simply glared at his orc brethren. He wanted to punch him in the face right then and there, but the moment he did he would start up a brawl which make the situation infinitely worse. Finally, he had enough. With a loud smack on the table, he took his leave from the banquet and decided to rest in his hut for a while. As he left, he ignored the other orcs who called him back and simply focused on walking away. However, there were several voices he couldn't ignore.

‘So, mind telling me what that was all about?’ That was the voice of one of the seven warriors inhabiting his womb. Dar'gul winced as he debated whether or not to respond. He ultimately decided to do so.

“Please,” Dar'gul pleaded under his breath. “I am in no mood.”

‘Yer reaching your breaking point, lad,’ another orcling reprimanded. ‘Yer body and mind can't keep this up forever.’

“I'll keep it up for as long as I have to! Now please leave me alone!”

‘Certainly there must be an “out”, right?’ Dar'gul paused momentarily to collect his thoughts. An out? The thought made him laugh inwardly.

“If there was an “out”, I'd have reached for it ages ago,” Dar'gul admitted, trying to fight his own emotions. “That is… if I wasn't so loyal to my chieftain.”

‘Then do you not think it is time to do as you please for once?’

“Hpmf… do as I please?” Dar'gul began again, this time allowing a tear to at least stream down his cheek. “What can I do? I'm the primary force of my tribe's army. It's been over two months and I haven't done as I pleased since that day. And that whole reason I'm even stuck in this mess is because I did as I pleased and thought that it was the right thing to do. So tell me, what should I do when doing as I pleased only got me in more trouble?”

...no response. Dar'gul chuckled to himself, figuring they realized to futility of his situation. Continue to be a servant of the tribe, or disobey and be put to death. Either way, he couldn't win.

“Exactly,” Dar'gul finally said after a long pause. “I'm trapped. A prisoner to my own servitude--”

‘Quiet, father!’ one of the orcilings called out. ‘You hear that?’ Dar'gul listened for something, but didn't hear anything other than the squirms of his own heavy stomach. Then he heard voices. The sounds of a conference. It was only then that Dar'gul took stock at where he was. In focusing on getting away from the party, he had lost his way and ended up near the war room of his tribe. A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he began to make his way back to where he presumably got himself lost, until…

“And what of Dar'gul?”

Wait a minute? Did one of the orcs just call out his name? Why? What could they be talking about? These questions and more were now swirling about in his head and as much as he hated to admit it, it would drive him mad if he didn't know what was going on. In the end, curiosity got the better of him and he walked towards the war room, hoping to get a decent listen.

Little did Dar'gul know that he would come to regret his foolishness…

As soon as Dar'gul was within earshot, he situated himself in such a way that he could quickly get out if he was spotted or if the meeting had ended. Ignoring the looming cramps from his stomach, possibly his orclings trying to physically warn him, he took stock of their conversation.

“I must admit, chief, that Dar'gul is a fine warrior,” one of the orcs said. So they were talking about him. And from the sounds of it, his chieftain was there too.

“Indeed,” another orc added. “And he seems to be handling his newfound fate quite well. If I were in his situation, I would have taken an axe to my skull the first chance I got.”

“I suppose,” Dar'gul's heart nearly skipped a beat. That was the voice of his chieftain! What was he doing talking about him with what he could only assume to be other orc generals? “For the past few months, Dar'gul has shown exemplary service to this tribe. However…”

“‘However’?” another orc asked.

“I'm fearful for his well being. He shows no objection to any chance to serve me, even after learning that he is nothing more than a living soul jar.”

“That worries me as well,” another orc added. “The mighty oak can only bend so much before it topples over due to its own weight.” Dar'gul was now even more confused. Why bring up these concerns now? While he appreciated their concern, the way they were talking about him made it seem that he was slowly outliving his usefulness. But that couldn't be true. He had the power of the Seven Legendary Warriors of orc legend swirling about in his belly. He was plenty useful!

“What's more damning is that you turned into an effective weapon behind his back,” an orc accused, raising a fire inside of Dar'gul. It was taking everything he could to not storm in there and beat the offending orc into a pulp, but he could feel his blood pumping in his now clenched fist.

“It was not my intention to deceive him,” the chieftain interjected, attempting to restore order.

“Even so, that fact alone means that we cannot ignore the possibility of him going rogue,” an orc rebutted.

“Precisely!” another orc added. “And in his current state, it is no longer a matter of if, but when!”

“It will not come to that!” the chieftain reasoned, but it was clear that reason was not going to win today.

“How can you be sure?” an orc questioned. “For all his power, Dar'gul is proving day by day that he's becoming more of a liability!” Those words shot through Dar'gul’s heart like an arrow. A liability? Is that how the elders saw him? As he felt his spirits drop, a strong contraction hit him. He mentally cursed himself as he tried to stifle his cries.

“Indeed,” an orc began. “At this stage, we only have two options to avoid insubordination: find an effective means of controlling him, or expel him from the tribe.”

“Are you suggesting those as options to deal with my most loyal warrior?” the chieftain asked, which was met with a harrowing silence. Then a sigh from the chieftain. “I understand.” Dar'gul's heart continued to dive further and further down as he listened to this madness. They were seriously considering removing him from the tribe just because they see him as a threat! What sense did that make?! Dar'gul couldn't take anymore of this and made a beeline out from the vicinity of the war room and back to the outside.

Dar'gul writhed about in his hut, his doorway shut tight to make sure no one would snoop in on him. He screamed in a mixture of agony and sadness, clutching his stomach as he felt the throngs of labor hit him. Not that he would ever give birth. The stipulation of his situation made sure of that. But labor was the last thing on his mind. Expulsion? From his tribe? He would take anything but that! Strip him of his free will if that was what it took! Hell, he’d gladly accept death just as long as he could remain a proud warrior to his tribe. As soon as the pain settled down, he threw his back to the wall and gasped for breath. His body was drenched in sweat yet again and he was shaking violently. He was beyond scared, so scared that fear wasn't even an appropriate word to describe it. As attempted to calm himself down, he heard a knock outside followed by a familiar voice.

“Dar'gul. It is I.” The chieftain. The last person Dar'gul wanted to see or hear. “I imagine you must be exhausted, but I must ask you this… are you willing to participate in a strike against a neighbouring army tomorrow night?”

Anger filled Dar’gul’s heart. After nearly considering expelling him from the tribe, he had the nerve to ask him to lay his life on the line yet again. He wanted to go up to his chieftain and punch him square in the face. However, he realized that would only make the situation even worse. Then, a crazy thought popped up in his head. Maybe he decided to only put some kind of figurative leash on him. Maybe this wasn't some kind of death mission. It was a childish thought, but it was the only thing giving him hope at this point. With a deep breath, he gave his answer.

“I will,” he said after a long pause, but with a noticeable break in his voice. “Whatever you ask of me, I will do it gladly.” The chieftain sighed heavily at his response.

“Very well,” he replied. “I shall see you before sunset tomorrow.” And with that, the chieftain left to prepare for tomorrow’s attack. However, he stopped and took a moment to look back at Dar'gul’s hut. He realized that the moment Dar'gul accepted his request, his fate was sealed. Out of all the sins he had committed to maintain his tribe, this may have been the worst.

“This is for your own good, Dar'gul,” he tried to convince himself. “Please forgive me…”

Description
Dar'gul quietly sipped at his drink as his eyes wandered about the dining hall. He had participated in yet another successful raid and was treated to a victory banquet. Not that he could fully enjoy it, what with him being pregnant and all. He occasionally rubbed the sweat off his forehead as he took all the sounds and smells in.

“Yo, Dar'gul,” one of the orcs called. “You haven't spoken up in a while! You feeling okay?” Dar'gul simply nodded to alleviate his fellow orc’s worries. He didn't truly feel like talking today. He felt especially miserable. Carrying infant orcling avatars was bad enough, but to do so while fighting a ferocious battle was especially taxing. Not helping matters were the occasional smacks and jabs on his person that sent every nerve in his body on fire.

“You really need to talk more!” the fellow orc cheered, giving Dar'gul a hefty pat on the back and sending the latter into a wince. “Just cause you're pregnant doesn't mean you can't relax every once in awhile! You're too serious!” Dar'gul simply glared at his orc brethren. He wanted to punch him in the face right then and there, but the moment he did he would start up a brawl which make the situation infinitely worse. Finally, he had enough. With a loud smack on the table, he took his leave from the banquet and decided to rest in his hut for a while. As he left, he ignored the other orcs who called him back and simply focused on walking away. However, there were several voices he couldn't ignore.

‘So, mind telling me what that was all about?’ That was the voice of one of the seven warriors inhabiting his womb. Dar'gul winced as he debated whether or not to respond. He ultimately decided to do so.

“Please,” Dar'gul pleaded under his breath. “I am in no mood.”

‘Yer reaching your breaking point, lad,’ another orcling reprimanded. ‘Yer body and mind can't keep this up forever.’

“I'll keep it up for as long as I have to! Now please leave me alone!”

‘Certainly there must be an “out”, right?’ Dar'gul paused momentarily to collect his thoughts. An out? The thought made him laugh inwardly.

“If there was an “out”, I'd have reached for it ages ago,” Dar'gul admitted, trying to fight his own emotions. “That is… if I wasn't so loyal to my chieftain.”

‘Then do you not think it is time to do as you please for once?’

“Hpmf… do as I please?” Dar'gul began again, this time allowing a tear to at least stream down his cheek. “What can I do? I'm the primary force of my tribe's army. It's been over two months and I haven't done as I pleased since that day. And that whole reason I'm even stuck in this mess is because I did as I pleased and thought that it was the right thing to do. So tell me, what should I do when doing as I pleased only got me in more trouble?”

...no response. Dar'gul chuckled to himself, figuring they realized to futility of his situation. Continue to be a servant of the tribe, or disobey and be put to death. Either way, he couldn't win.

“Exactly,” Dar'gul finally said after a long pause. “I'm trapped. A prisoner to my own servitude--”

‘Quiet, father!’ one of the orcilings called out. ‘You hear that?’ Dar'gul listened for something, but didn't hear anything other than the squirms of his own heavy stomach. Then he heard voices. The sounds of a conference. It was only then that Dar'gul took stock at where he was. In focusing on getting away from the party, he had lost his way and ended up near the war room of his tribe. A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he began to make his way back to where he presumably got himself lost, until…

“And what of Dar'gul?”

Wait a minute? Did one of the orcs just call out his name? Why? What could they be talking about? These questions and more were now swirling about in his head and as much as he hated to admit it, it would drive him mad if he didn't know what was going on. In the end, curiosity got the better of him and he walked towards the war room, hoping to get a decent listen.

Little did Dar'gul know that he would come to regret his foolishness…

As soon as Dar'gul was within earshot, he situated himself in such a way that he could quickly get out if he was spotted or if the meeting had ended. Ignoring the looming cramps from his stomach, possibly his orclings trying to physically warn him, he took stock of their conversation.

“I must admit, chief, that Dar'gul is a fine warrior,” one of the orcs said. So they were talking about him. And from the sounds of it, his chieftain was there too.

“Indeed,” another orc added. “And he seems to be handling his newfound fate quite well. If I were in his situation, I would have taken an axe to my skull the first chance I got.”

“I suppose,” Dar'gul's heart nearly skipped a beat. That was the voice of his chieftain! What was he doing talking about him with what he could only assume to be other orc generals? “For the past few months, Dar'gul has shown exemplary service to this tribe. However…”

“‘However’?” another orc asked.

“I'm fearful for his well being. He shows no objection to any chance to serve me, even after learning that he is nothing more than a living soul jar.”

“That worries me as well,” another orc added. “The mighty oak can only bend so much before it topples over due to its own weight.” Dar'gul was now even more confused. Why bring up these concerns now? While he appreciated their concern, the way they were talking about him made it seem that he was slowly outliving his usefulness. But that couldn't be true. He had the power of the Seven Legendary Warriors of orc legend swirling about in his belly. He was plenty useful!

“What's more damning is that you turned into an effective weapon behind his back,” an orc accused, raising a fire inside of Dar'gul. It was taking everything he could to not storm in there and beat the offending orc into a pulp, but he could feel his blood pumping in his now clenched fist.

“It was not my intention to deceive him,” the chieftain interjected, attempting to restore order.

“Even so, that fact alone means that we cannot ignore the possibility of him going rogue,” an orc rebutted.

“Precisely!” another orc added. “And in his current state, it is no longer a matter of if, but when!”

“It will not come to that!” the chieftain reasoned, but it was clear that reason was not going to win today.

“How can you be sure?” an orc questioned. “For all his power, Dar'gul is proving day by day that he's becoming more of a liability!” Those words shot through Dar'gul’s heart like an arrow. A liability? Is that how the elders saw him? As he felt his spirits drop, a strong contraction hit him. He mentally cursed himself as he tried to stifle his cries.

“Indeed,” an orc began. “At this stage, we only have two options to avoid insubordination: find an effective means of controlling him, or expel him from the tribe.”

“Are you suggesting those as options to deal with my most loyal warrior?” the chieftain asked, which was met with a harrowing silence. Then a sigh from the chieftain. “I understand.” Dar'gul's heart continued to dive further and further down as he listened to this madness. They were seriously considering removing him from the tribe just because they see him as a threat! What sense did that make?! Dar'gul couldn't take anymore of this and made a beeline out from the vicinity of the war room and back to the outside.

Dar'gul writhed about in his hut, his doorway shut tight to make sure no one would snoop in on him. He screamed in a mixture of agony and sadness, clutching his stomach as he felt the throngs of labor hit him. Not that he would ever give birth. The stipulation of his situation made sure of that. But labor was the last thing on his mind. Expulsion? From his tribe? He would take anything but that! Strip him of his free will if that was what it took! Hell, he’d gladly accept death just as long as he could remain a proud warrior to his tribe. As soon as the pain settled down, he threw his back to the wall and gasped for breath. His body was drenched in sweat yet again and he was shaking violently. He was beyond scared, so scared that fear wasn't even an appropriate word to describe it. As attempted to calm himself down, he heard a knock outside followed by a familiar voice.

“Dar'gul. It is I.” The chieftain. The last person Dar'gul wanted to see or hear. “I imagine you must be exhausted, but I must ask you this… are you willing to participate in a strike against a neighbouring army tomorrow night?”

Anger filled Dar’gul’s heart. After nearly considering expelling him from the tribe, he had the nerve to ask him to lay his life on the line yet again. He wanted to go up to his chieftain and punch him square in the face. However, he realized that would only make the situation even worse. Then, a crazy thought popped up in his head. Maybe he decided to only put some kind of figurative leash on him. Maybe this wasn't some kind of death mission. It was a childish thought, but it was the only thing giving him hope at this point. With a deep breath, he gave his answer.

“I will,” he said after a long pause, but with a noticeable break in his voice. “Whatever you ask of me, I will do it gladly.” The chieftain sighed heavily at his response.

“Very well,” he replied. “I shall see you before sunset tomorrow.” And with that, the chieftain left to prepare for tomorrow’s attack. However, he stopped and took a moment to look back at Dar'gul’s hut. He realized that the moment Dar'gul accepted his request, his fate was sealed. Out of all the sins he had committed to maintain his tribe, this may have been the worst.

“This is for your own good, Dar'gul,” he tried to convince himself. “Please forgive me…”