Dukagsh Pt 3

Still more...

On board that hammership minutes later, Dukagsh was greeted with surprise and 
cheers from his orc followers.  He shouted for the captain of the vessel and 
was approached by Captain Rark shortly.
	“Dukagsh!  We must flee, the Armada arrived earlier than we expected. 
 The other ships have fled already!”  Rark explained.
	Dukagsh nodded his head.  “Yes, we are through now, set out for the 
sphere.  We leave this place forever.”
	“Where is the Grand Admiral?  Is he-?”  Rark was hopeful of course 
that the Admiral would have struggled and resisted, forcing them to kill him. 
 He was loyal to Dukagsh, but did not understand how keeping the Admiral 
alive would be so useful as killing him and striking fear into the elves 
hearts.
	Dukagsh knew this was what his loyal captain Rark thought within his 
mind.  Raised up by shamans and witchdoctors, Rark could conceive little 
else.  But he could be taught to do more.  That was why Dukagsh had chosen 
him over other orcs.
	He looked Rark in the eyes.  “The Admiral was captured by me.  He 
escaped through magic.”
	Rark looked downfallen.  It was a possibility they had considered, 
but they had hoped that Gruumsh would take care of that also in his own 
divine way.  Rark looked up his eyes dimmed with understanding and sorrow.  
“Then this war is truly lost.”
	“No!”  Dukagsh roared this with such ferocity that Rark was taken 
aback.  Dukagsh spun about and swept his arm across the sky from horizon to 
horizon.  “This war was stolen!”

	Months later a ragtag fleet of orc ships and stolen or broken down 
human freighters was led by Dukagsh beyond the normal flow rivers, past his 
own home sphere and still farther, they stopped for air and supplies, 
stealing or raiding never leaving survivors.  They followed an erratic course 
and traveled close to the edge of sargasso’s to be sure of no pursuit.  
Dukagsh took the measures but knew the elves felt no need to chase them.  
They were defeated.  Broken.
	The orcs would never be a threat to the elves.  All of the goblin 
races combined would never threaten the elves.  The elves knew it.  Dukagsh 
knew it.  For the entire journey he kept to himself.  Plotting.  Thinking.
	Finally they arrived in a faraway sphere, with six planets, and a 
bright yellow sun.  After scout vessels returned with reports of their 
findings Dukagsh chose the second planet.  Lush.  Full of life and 
vegetation.  It also had a wide hot desert expanse with nothing but sand for 
miles around.  This is where he took the orcs.
	Many complained.  The priests and shamans especially.
	“Where will we hide from the accursed sun?”  They demanded. 
	“We will build shelters and homes.”  Had been his answer.
	“We can’t build houses!  We take them!  We dwell in caves and 
mountains.  What do we know of building with our hands?  We are orcs, 
warriors!”
	Dukagsh smiled, “You have failed as orcs and warriors.  Now we will 
see if you can at least build a house for yourself.”
	The orcs had laughed.  The priests had growled and complained.  
Threats were muttered.
	They used their ships to haul water, wood and materials from the more 
fertile lands nearby.  Small huts and hovels sprung up.  Villages began.  A 
year later Dukagsh returned from a trade mission with several large crates 
aboard their ship.  This drew looks of hope and glee from the orcs.  He 
gathered them all near.
	“Within these crates lies your future!  All the power that we will 
ever need to accomplish our goals!”  Dukagsh had bellowed and then struck out 
at the straps holding them shut.  Anticipation ran high.  Orcs young and old 
had wondered what was within.  New weapons?  Powerful magic for the shamans 
to use?  The secret Marauders?
	The crates split wide and the contents fell to the ground flapping 
out like injured birds.  The orcs rushed forward, then stopped.  A young orc 
reached out to pick up an item from the crate.  “What is it?” the whelp 
whispered.
	“Books?”  An incredulous Karzat stumbled forward from the crowd.  His 
hatred for Dukagsh was well known.  But the orcs revered him.  His power was 
not great enough to slay the great orc leader.  He knew well enough.  He had 
tried three times now.  He also knew that each time, Dukagsh knew.  Dukagsh 
was mocking him, challenging his best and defeating it easily.  He struck out 
wherever he could.
	“We are orcs!  We do not read as the elves or humans!  We-” Karzat 
began to rant, his one good eye blazing.
	“You have failed as orcs.  You have barely succeeded at building your 
homes.  Some of you couldn’t even do that yourselves.”  Dukagsh cut him off.  
This last was meant for him and the other shamans who had not raised a finger 
to build their huts, but the shamans had required the other orcs to build 
homes for the shamans before allowing them to build their own.  It was a 
point of anger among them.  Dukagsh had seen to this.  He had helped build 
other homes until all had a roof over head, then he had built his own.  
“These books contain knowledge, wisdom of many races.  Secret knowledge, how 
to grow crops, how to forge steel, how to build ships, how to fight with 
skill.”
	He bent down and picked one up, taking it to Karzat.  “This one 
explains how to build a house.  You could use this most of all.”
	The orcs laughed.  But then one asked, “We cannot read.  What can we 
do with these except burn them for warmth?”
	“You will all learn to read.  I will teach you.  My captains will 
teach you.  You will gain the secret knowledge of the dwarves, the humans, 
and the elves.”  There was muttering at this, what could an elf know that was 
worth anything?  He continued.  “When you are done, you will know how to stay 
warm in any winter.  You will know how to stay cool in the scorching flames 
of summer.  You will learn how to fight with skill and savagery.  And you 
will practice!”