What's on the agenda for this week, and a teaser for something new.

This week, in addition to fighting off a cold, I'm working to get the War Core manuscript ready for the editor. I won't have a whole lot of time to write this week, as I'll be outlining the next Cat Core and War Core novels. To give you something to read, I'll post a couple of chapters of something new.

While I work on my main fiction, I often need to take a break for a day or two and work on a side project to get the creative juices flowing again. One of those projects was something called An Orc in New York. It follows an orc Warmaster named Gub, who isn't exactly a good guy. I've only got a couple of chapters done, but here's the first as well as a peek at the cover art.

An Orc in New York
Chapter 1.

Warbringer Gub looked out at the black walls of the city of Deadhold, the last stronghold of the necromancer Pharox. This city was the final obstacle standing in the way of victory in this frustrating war that his army has been engaged in for so long. Gub watched as his forces moved into position for their final assault. The city sat atop a large plateau, the land around it had once been farmland he was told, but that of course, changed when the necromancer arrived centuries ago. Humans, tasty humans, lived here before. Now, the humans were gone and all that was left of them were the undead creatures that stood atop the walls of the city, ready to defend it against his unstoppable army.

Imps swarmed around his troops, passing out ammunition and the meager rations he had available. If this attack failed, he would be forced to cull more of his forces in order to feed the rest. His warriors chanted and raised their weapons high, seeking the favor of the system. Gub knew that such displays did little to sway the system’s favor, but it improved the morale of his orcs, so he let it continue. While the system may not help them in the coming fight, the highly upgraded equipment his troops used would. Having high casualties in the campaign had depleted his numbers, but it had also left enough excess gear to make sure his army was equipped as the elite force he knew it was meant to be.

To help in the coming assault, the Imps had cobbled together new war machines that they were promising could breach the magically enhanced walls in no time. His Imps knew better than to make a promise they couldn’t fulfill, the warband might not be able to eat the corpses of the undead, but a few Imps would be a welcome addition to their larders. Even if they failed, Gub knew he had to keep his rage in check and not kill too many of them. The small green slaves were the only ones who could craft the weapons, ammo, and war machines his army used. Fear of their masters kept the little Imp’s working, fear, and the chance to ascend into the orc form if the system determined they were worthy.

Gub turned both his heads to watch as his forces continued to encircle the city and cut off all avenues of escape. The city wasn’t the largest they had conquered during this war, but his diminished forces barely had the numbers to encircle it. Undead flesh didn’t provide the sustenance that orcs needed to replace their number, leaving him a bit weaker after every battle. At least the undead were in the same predicament, orcs were different than most other creatures on Lhorgos and their corpses couldn’t be raised by necromantic energy.

Despite the initial setbacks, his horde had done what orc’s do best, kill enemies and destroy things. In fact, their army’s motto was “Kill and Destroy!”, a motto he suspected was used by the majority of the other orc clans. They were all jealous of his power and would, of course, try to copy Gub’s mighty army. When the last units finished their preparations, Gub decided it was time to get the battle started.

Walking into his tent, Gub gathered his weapons and placed a helm on one of his heads. While it did provide some protection, it was mainly there as a ruse to fool the other races. Orcs weren’t as vulnerable as the weaker races and their bodies didn’t house their brains in such a small and vulnerable area like the head. His race was better, smarter, and stronger, having its brain spread throughout the entire body in various places, each orc different from the other. He grabbed his deathspitter in one hand, checking that the Imp assigned to care for his weapons had loaded it correctly before picking up his axe in the other hand. Strange energy crackled along the length of the axe; its power enhanced by the most skilled shamans and Imp artificers of his clan. Never had a foe faced this weapon and survived, Gub was supreme on the battlefield, an unstoppable force of destruction.

Leaving his command tent, Gub signaled his honor guard to join him as they trod down the hill toward the walls of Deadhold. His honor guard consisted of a dozen of the largest and meanest orcs that the clan had ever produced. Being the biggest and meanest meant they were also the ones most likely to try and usurp his rule. Placing them in his honor guard allowed him to keep potential rivals in plain view. The way of the orc was that the strongest led, and to take control you had to kill and consume the one above you.

“Warbringer Gub, when are the rations arriving? My warriors are becoming restless with the lack of food,” Zobguz, his second in command complained. Gub stared at the impertinent orc, angry to be verbally challenged in front of the others. Zobguz was huge, even for their race, his strength—if not his intellect—securing his position on the honor guard. It would not do to have his leadership challenged even in this small way. It had been too long since he had set an example but now was as good a time as any. Pausing only to decide which weapon to use, Gub decided on the axe just as Zobguz realized the trouble his question had caused. Reaching for his own magically enhanced weapon—a sword so large that even Zobguz needed two hands to wield it.

Gub wasn’t as large as his second in command, the other orc had two or three feet of height on him, but he was much more powerful. Not only was he powerful, but he was also fast, much too fast for Zobguz. The axe sang as Gub swung, energy crackling on the blade as it hit its target. The challenger’s head and both arms were shorn from his body before Zobguz had the chance to raise his sword. A satisfying spray of blood from his foe caused the rumbling hunger to begin inside Gub. Keeping with tradition, he began to feast on his challenger, starting with one of the arms as he motioned for his Imps to strip the body down.

Zobguz wasn’t dead, not yet. It was really hard to kill an orc for good, Gub himself had survived injuries that would have killed any of the lesser races. An orc as powerful as Zobguz would take much more killing than just having his head and arms chopped off. Any of his honor guard were powerful enough to heal and regenerate from the horrendous injuries he had inflicted on Zobguz. No, Gub couldn’t allow his challenger to regenerate, he would stand here and grant Zobguz the final death as his challenger digested slowly in his stomach. A welcome message appeared before Gub, the blessings of the gods of the System informing him that he had accomplished something worthy of their attention.

You have defeated the orc Zobguz and consumed his power. These are the blessings for this act of mayhem, Warbringer Gub.

You have received more experience; you are now 44% of the way to level 16. Kill, destroy, and consume to become even more powerful. Revel in what you have accomplished but do not be content, always seek to rise higher before another challenger brings you down.

Gub, Level 15 Warbringer.

Progress to next level: 44%

Health: 100%

Fatigue: 0%

Strength: 55.

Agility: 42.

Constitution: 65.

Mind: 22.

Presence: 41

Abilities:

Rapid strike. You can activate to unleash a flurry of melee blows, making three attacks in the span of time it would normally take you to make one. Using this ability causes 20% fatigue.

Cleave. Sweep your axe to hit all targets within 5-feet of the Warbringer. Damage is reduced, but there is a higher chance of severing any limbs that are hit by the blow. Cleave causes 35% fatigue.

Deadly Aim. Take an extra 5 seconds to aim your deathspitter, adding significantly to your accuracy and range. Hits made with Deadly Aim will have a 25% higher chance of doing critical damage to a foe. This ability causes 10% fatigue and has no cooldown.

Barrage. Empty everything in your ammo hopper in one burst. This ability targets an area 15-feet in diameter. The rounds will be inaccurate, with a penalty to hit as well as reduced damage. Barrage causes 20% fatigue.

Ammo Dump. This ability will slowly create fresh ammunition for your current ranged weapon at a rate of one round every five seconds. Ammo Dump causes 10% fatigue, lasts for one minute, and can be used up to five times per day.

Second Wind. This ability restores 25% of your current fatigue. You can use Second Wind twice per day.

Rejuvenate. This ability unleashes the blessing of the system, restoring 30% of your health and removing 15% of your fatigue. You can use Rejuvenate once per day.

Traits:

Blessed of the System Gods. You have been favored by the system and granted a rare blessing. Normally, when an orc feeds enough, their body will separate in two, creating a new warrior for the army, but leaving the original orc somewhat weaker than it had been. You, with the assistance of the System, have stopped that process and now all the power you consume is yours. A Warbringer that is Blessed of the System Gods is recognizable by the two heads on its body. This trait will increase your experience gain from consuming powerful opponents, as well as increase the rate at which you gain presence. This blessing reduces the mind penalty of the orc race, allowing your mind score to go above 10. While the gods have been generous to the Warbringer, they are also a fickle bunch and have saddled this blessing with a restriction. You can no longer gain experience from consuming beings that are more than five levels below your own.

Equipment:

System-enhanced armor. Damage reduction 25%, elemental resistance 10%. Your armor has been crafted by the most skilled among the imps of your army. In addition, the system has blessed the armor, making it more resistant to damage from both kinetic impact and environmental factors. The armor is also imbued with a self-repair function, slowly fixing any damage it takes.

Finely crafted deathspitter carbine. This is the traditional ranged weapon of the orcish hordes. While not the most accurate of weapons, the double barrels of a deathspitter allow it to unleash enough fire that it will eventually hit what it is aimed at. This deathspitter has been upgraded by your imps to allow it to fire not only standard rounds but also rounds imbued with mana by the shamans of your army. The ammo hopper for this weapon has been enlarged to hold 100 rounds.

Axe of the Warbringer. This system-enhanced axe has been handed down from one Warbringer to the next. The axe never needs sharpening, and a powerful energy field emits from it, allowing the wielding to cleave through almost any material.

Gub waved away the other notifications, he knew how many daggers he had stashed about his person and the grenades and other devices he kept hidden. Looking over at the rest of his honor guard, he could see they had been sufficiently cowed by the quick defeat of Zubguz. Gub estimated he had at least another week before one of the others decided to challenge him. Being the benevolent ruler that he was, Gub allowed the remaining eleven of his honor guard to share in the feast, giving them just enough that it wouldn’t cut into his own experience gain. Orcs were always hungry, and lack of rations had hit them almost as hard as the attacks of the undead.

The council of warbringers had tasked Gub with eliminating the undead threat, and a single orc clan, no matter how powerful, didn’t go against the council and live. To soften the blow, the other orc clans were supposed to keep his troops supplied with enough fresh provisions to replace their losses. Sadly, each shipment had been smaller than the last and delivered after long delays. As it stood, he had enough food to keep his army alive, but not to replace any losses, it took much more fresh meat than the pittance they were receiving to do that. Unless he killed Pharox quickly, his army would be weakened to the extent that another clan would surely take them over.

“The war machines and your troops are ready, oh great and mighty Gub, we await only your order to begin,” a small Imp said, groveling before Gub’s might. The little weakling had been smart enough to wait until he had nearly finished his meal, so Gub rewarded him with what was left of the hand he was snacking on. The imp hid the hand quickly, lest some other bigger and stronger member of the clan take it from him. There was only a little meat on a few of the fingers, but it would be more fresh meat than an imp would normally get for their ration.

“Let’s go, signal the clan to attack!” Gub shouted. The war horns began to sound, calling the clan to war. The warbringer and his honor guard followed behind the army, ready to respond to any significant threats.

True to their word, the war machines that the imps had crafted were working well. The machines resembled a giant armored box on tracks with a huge deathspitter sticking out from an opening at the front. A half dozen of the tracked monstrosities rolled to a stop, facing the eastern wall of Deadhold where Gub and his elite troops were stationed. The barrels of the war machine’s giant deathspitter’s glowed as they prepared for action. With a roar, the war machines fired. Gub remembered that the imps had dubbed the machines fort grinders, and they seemed to be living up to their name. The first wave of blasts crashed in, the projectiles exploding against the black necromantic energy that Pharox had enhanced the walls with. The magic of the necromancer held the first volley back, as well as the second. A third volley crashed in from the fort grinders, and this time, the magic protecting the walls flared for a final time and died out.

“Get your spell casters ready, no mistakes this time Lazbax,” Gub rumbled to the lead shaman of his army. Many of their spells had proven ineffective against the undead, the shamanistic magic often relied on the draining the life of their target to inflict damage. It had taken time, and the deaths of many orcs, before they narrowed down what would work and what was ineffective. Another volley from the fort grinders slammed into Deadhold, tearing gouts of stone from the walls. While they were no longer protected by magic, the walls themselves were stout and held up to the blasts. In a black wave, necromantic magic began to coat the walls once more. Gub heard chanting in his lines as the shamans began to work their spells. Beams of green light flowed from his spell casters and into the protective spell that was trying to reseal Deadhold once more.

The chanting became more frantic and Gub watched as first one, then another of the weaker casters fell to the ground dead. Lazbax began to chant louder and Gub was glad to see the toll that the spell was taking on the shaman. I would leave Lazbax weakened after the battle and prevent the shaman from making a play to become the clan’s leader. The chanting reached a crescendo, causing the deaths of six more shamans. Gub watched the protective spell over the walls fail just as another volley from the fort grinders landed.

“Great Warbringer Gub, the necromancer’s protective barrier is down, and he will not be able to rebuild it for some time,” Lazbax told him. The shaman then collapsed, countering the spell’s power had taxed him past his limits. Still, his top shaman deserved some reward for his efforts.

“You, what personal rations do I have left?” Gub said to one of the imps that maintained his gear.

“Master, there are a dozen humans, a pair of halflings, and the elf you have been saving,” the imp said, cowering before him. Gub preferred human over halfling meat, and one small halfling wouldn’t deplete his personal reserve too much. As for the elf, that was a delicacy he planned to partake of after the battle.

“Pick out one of the halflings, when Lazbax revives, see to it that he receives his reward. Now, for the rest of us, advance!” Gub shouted, waving his axe in the direction of the walls as another volley from the fort grinders opened a sizable gap in the undead defenses. As his army approached, bolts of darkness flashed out from the intact parts of the wall as undead mages burned up their mana in an attempt to stem the green tide that was about to wash over them.

Moving in to plug the gap in the walls was a formation of skeletons holding a variety of melee weapons in their grasp. The orc vanguard took a knee and began to spray the undead with their deathspitters. The fire was inaccurate, but with enough weapons firing, the skeletons began to shatter into pieces from the heavy rounds preferred by his warriors.

“No, don’t stop you fools, press on into the city!” Gub yelled. Despite his booming voice, the sound of weapons fire drowned out the order. It took time for his sub-commanders to pass the word to the lead units, time they didn’t have.

A pair of objects flew from the gap in the walls, large spheres of bone and rotting flesh that landed upon the kneeling troops who were still firing at the skeletons. When they hit, the spheres exploded, driving corrupted splinters into the mass of troops. Dozens of his orcs were down, and Gub knew many more would die in the next few days as the corruption in their wounds grew. The shamans could stop the rot, but Gub wasn’t going to waste powerful magic on foolish troops. He was a smart warbringer and knew to keep his most expendable forces in the front of an attack like this. They would die and, sadly, their flesh wouldn’t be recovered due to the corruption.

In answer to the artillery fire that they had received from inside the city, Gub’s fort grinders fired into the breach, past the blockading forces. The remaining forces in the vanguard realized that sitting outside the wall and inside the range of whatever had shot at them was a losing proposition. They stood and charged as one, deathspitters blazing away. More skeletons fell as the orcs drew into melee range. Deathspitters were quickly slung and a variety of weapons were drawn as the orcs crashed into the remaining skeletal defenders.

Gub watched his vanguard push back the skeletons, gaining a foothold past the breach. He waived a second block of troops forward; these were more valuable and better-equipped orcs than the rabble that made up the vanguard. As his second wave made their way forward, the vanguard began to be pushed out of the breach, some having the audacity to try and flee the battle.

“Make a note of the cowards, they will fill the cookpots tonight,” Gub told one of the imps that followed him. The imp pulled a small scroll from its inventory and began to jot down the names of the cowards, the system granting it the ability to see the name of any it focused on. His second wave pushed past the cowards and fought their way into the gap as an armored figure emerged, its pair of swords taking apart any orc that approached it. The undead warrior’s black armor was covered in swirling sigils that glowed with necromantic energy. The swords themselves were enchanted to give off a palpable feeling of fear, a feeling Gub had no trouble suppressing. Unlike the clean white bones that the necromancer usually preferred, this creature had the desiccated remains of its skin clinging to various parts of its body that weren’t covered in armor.

Eye sockets gleaming with foul power, the creature scanned the orc army, its enhanced armor shrugging off the few rounds that the braver of his troops fired at it. Gub could feel the creature’s gaze land upon him, the undead thing somehow knowing that he was the Warbringer. It pointed one sword toward Gub, and the system responded to whatever request the thing had made.

The revenant Iklox has challenged Gub to personal combat. To refuse this combat will result in an experience penalty as well as the increased likelihood of a challenger rising to contest your claim as Warbringer.