Debauchery Worlds 69 (Patreon)

Commissioned by michael stitcher

Debauchery Worlds

Chapter 69 (nice)

-VB-

Alan Marris 

Lamb Hills, Halann (Anbennar)

2984.05.06

A month and a half after our decision to allow my dwarves to settle and colonize this world and to delve into the “Serpentspine” Mountain Range in search of dwarven ruins and history, I ran into a problem.

The problem?

It came in the form of a warband of orcs. 

Genuine orcs like the Lord of the Rings, Warcraft, and Elder Scrolls. 

I, Clone 10R9, jumped in my chair when I heard a cacophony of roars in the distance. I stood up and looked towards the sound while standing atop the prefab command center I’d set up in the first week of the colonization. At three stories tall and covering a quarter of a square kilometer, the massive structure was meant to provide protection more than comfort. 

And it looked like we were about to encounter something it was designed for. Kind of. 

Because from the bottom of Lamb Hill #7 (one of many hills in this aptly named area), orcs poured out of the evergreen forest by the hundreds. Then thousands. 

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

But these orcs weren’t Warhammer 40K orks. Or Warhammer Fantasy orks. 

With a build closer to that of Draenor orcs with the colors of the Horde, these orcs looked far more primitive even when compared to the Horde of Azeroth. They didn’t wear proper armor. Their weapons were a mix of crudely forged steel weapons and stone weapons. Some of them had bows but most were charging forward. 

My dwarves looked at the charging orcs who were over half a kilometer away - so less than three minutes away - and just calmly and slowly brought out their rifles. And the one battletech I stationed here, a Stinger, rose up, piloted by one of the few dwarves who’d become a mechwarrior under my command. 

“Umm, boss? Orders?” the Stinger pilot asked me through the radio.

“Fire at will,” I scoffed. 

Less than a minute later, the orcs were running at full speed back towards the forest they came from. 

So yeah. Orcs were a thing. 

And from their weapons, body shape, and the skeletons we found back at the Ramsteel Dwarf fortress… orcs were the ones who ended the “Aul-Dwarov,” including Orlazam-az-dihr, the Hold of the Ram Lords, that we were camping just outside of. 

This … this did not sit well with the dwarves. 

“We should be out there rooting out those scums before they become a problem for us!” one of the dwarves roared across the table at another dwarf. This was Kadir Greenaxe, the very same dwarf who managed to piece together the Dwarov tongue and translate the myriad of rotting texts. 

“Instead of going out to find who knows how many of these orcs, we should be restoring the glory of our cousins!” his rival, Storin Hullhammer, spat back. “You know what it is like to hunt down bandits! It’s a thankless job that never ends! Didn’t we get permission to stay because of the history and achievements?! We’ll kill them when they come, but we should be repairing the hold!” 

And some of the words used by the dead dwarves had leeched into my dwarves. The “hold” wasn’t spoke in English but in the local Dwarven. So in actual English, what he said wasn’t “repairing the hold” but “repairing the ovdal.”

Little things like that. 

Personally, I would have just invested in both. Having a bunch of primitive bumfucks killing my people when I’m not looking didn’t sit well with me. At the same time, the “ovdal” definitely held archeological and cultural significance to a not insignificant portion of my Falmartian explorers.

And since Falmart dwarves made up a third of my entire exploration teams…

Yeah, gotta keep those dwarves happy unless I wanted to risk my clones again to complete menial tasks. 

That and it was funny keeping real life fantasy dwarves around. They were generally chill people, you know? Never turned down a drink. Never failed to invite people to join them.

Good people.

But they were also very passionate about what they wanted.

“You all do realize that restoring the hold or hunting down warbands… the Blue Pickaxe Company has neither the manpower or resources to make either happen, right?” I spoke up.

And that finally shut them both up, including their supporters.

Then they started shouting at me. 

“Come on, boss! You gotta make at least one of those happen!”

“Yeah, this is like our big deal!”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna just ignore bastards who’re going around killing people for shits and giggles!” 

And on and on and on.

Ugh. 

-VB-

Alan Marris

Theramore Isle, Kalimdor

2984.05.06 (Year 24)

Magic remained a weak point for us.

We had the ability to use magic but it was so weak that Jaina often shook her head and gave her pitying looks. 

It was why despite having expanded my clone count into the thousands, we still relied on Theramore to supply us with all enchantments beyond the most basic ones.

‘I mean, if I pool a dozen of us together, we can put up a high-end of a journeyman enchanter or any other skill and recipe to use.’

‘Yeah, but it’s cheaper to just buy more from Theramore.’

‘Theramore’s having a bottleneck issue because of us, you idiot. Regular people can’t get their share because we’re buying up everything magic related at a higher mark up.’

And considering that we had wealth beyond anything the Azerothians could imagine, I was getting the better deal out of this.

Also, I was beginning to see a possible start to the local planet’s economy spiraling toward recession from all of the gold and silver I’ve dumped into the market through Theramore.

That was partially about why I was here. Jaina asked to see me. 

Someone knocked on the door and opened it. 

And in came Jaina. Today, she was dressed in a flowing robe made from some of the best fabrics imported from the Inner Sphere. 

I.e. from me. 

“Damn, is it me or do you get more beautiful every time I see you?” I asked genuinely, and Jaina just gave me a warm smile. 

“You say something like that every time you see me,” she replied with near flippant ease as she walked over to the other end of the table and sat down. “But we’ll get to the pleasantries after we deal with our business first, shall we?”

“Of course,” I nodded. “So what was this call about?” I asked. 

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I am not sure if I can keep up with your demands for long.”

I blinked. “Oh. Just that?”

“Just?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and with the tone of someone who might get ticked off if I said the wrong thing. 

“I mean… I know I have been ordering a lot…”

“You mean you have been buying up everything we make.”

“... Yes.”

She snorted. “That is slowly becoming a problem. While my people have been enjoying the more mundane products you have offered and I have enjoyed the security that comes with your battlemechs, there is a limit to what we can continue to provide for you.”

I noticed how she didn’t mention that the battlemechs I sold to her allowed her to utterly dominate half of the Dustwallow Marsh without having to establish additional watchtowers or guards along the road she was building. 

Ogres had tried to attack the mechs before. The result was … 

The crocolisks enjoyed the free meal.

“Then what do you propose?”

“I want you to cut back on sales by at least a quarter of what it is right now.”

A quarter. That was a lot. But it would be bad for me to upset Jaina and her people because I wanted to push things faster.

… but I could live with that. There wasn’t any urgency, after all. And if I did need the enchantments, then I could spare a dozen or so of my own clones to get it. I did have over a thousand of them now.

‘Oi, we ain’t some number.’

‘Yeah!’

‘Original’s an ass.’

I sighed. “Very well. I don’t want to ruin this friendship we have between us.”

Jaina smiled. “Wonderful-.”

“How about a dinner date with me in exchange?” I grinned. 

“Huh?”

“Oohh, that sounds like a lovely idea,” someone cooed from the doorway. 

Jaina bolted up from her seat with an embarrassed red face. “Aeg- I mean -!”

The other woman laughed as she gracefully ran away, never showing me her face. But from how casually Jaina seemed to refer to her, she had to be close to Jaina.

… Perhaps I found a target to impress so that she’ll put in a good word for me to Jaina.