Never cross Boar Mountain. My mother would give me that cryptic warning on a near daily basis growing up. When I would ask her why she would always say the same thing. Those damn orcs! I never knew what she meant. The only orcs I knew of were the kind in my roleplaying games. Those were massive, muscular, green skinned ogres. I had never seen such creatures anywhere around my sleepy little town.
Of course, that would imply I ever saw anything around my sleepy little town. We never got any visitors. The reason being the aforementioned mountain. A modest peak in the Sus Scrofa Range, it towered above us like a great tusk rising out of the ground. It stood recessed, blocking the entrance to our valley from the only gap until the ridge ended at the ocean. It took a week to skirt around Boar Mountain on either side to reach the gap. It would only take three days if you crossed over the peak. Though we never did that. All because of those damn orcs.
I had to leave the valley one day to sell some of my fruit in a near by city. I didn't want to, but you can only sell Mr. O'Greely so many apples, if you catch my drift. Turns out you can only sell so many in town as well. I still had a shoulder bag full as I began my trek back home.
Thunder rolled off in the distance. Groaning, I looked up at the sky to my back. Dark clouds were indeed gathering above the ridge. Lightning cracked across the sky seeming to strike the top of one of the mountains. This one was going to be a monster. I could just tell by looking at it. After a lifetime living in that valley, I also knew it would be upon me before I even made it halfway home. I had no other choice I consoled myself. This was the safest option. The only option. I was unarmed and only vaguely prepared for what I might find. This was a bad idea, and I knew it. Still, I took the path crossing Boar Mountain.
The first day was spent at a near run. If kept moving long enough I could make it out before the Orcs even knew I was there. Except, there were no orcs. Not that I could see. At first I attributed this to being near the base. If there were any orcs on this mountain surely, they would have to live near the summit, otherwise we would have seen them on a near daily basis. Now halfway up there was still no sign of them. Nor was there any sign that any population of large creatures were living there. No clear footprints, no trails they would have created by crisscrossing the woods, no sign of them at all. I was at this point convinced they were nothing more than a boogeyman meant to keep us in line and at home.
A growl broke my train of thought. It was the sound of a beast but not an orc. It was a wolf. Somewhere off the trail a wolf had cornered its prey. I would have to be careful not to interfere. I slowly crept along.
A scream. A woman's scream. So much for not interfering.
I ran from the path and down a small incline. A large wolf was indeed standing over a small shivering form. Looking around I found a branch on the ground. Lifting it up I swung it hard against the tree next to me. I cracked it hard again and again. Each time I let out a howl like some sort of great ape. As I hoped the sound bounced off the trees around us confusing the beast. When it raised its head to look around, I ran out hollering and swinging the branch. Startled and overwhelmed by all the noise the wolf took off into the woods.
I ran to the woman but stopped short for a second. She wasn't a woman. Not a human woman anyway. She was a monster girl, a momano, and a pig one at that. I had never seen one before. The rosy, pink skin and round little face led to a single thought entering my head: adorable. She had little hooves, cute little flopped over ears poking out of her black hair and a cute little human face. I was a little surprised by the lack of a snout. She wore what looked like a metal warrior bikini. She was curled into a ball, head facing me, still shaking.
"It's ok, its gone," I told her gently.
She slowly looked up. Seeing me she let out an adorable squeal and leapt into a backwards crawl, not taking her eyes off me.
"It's alright, it's alright," I assured her, "I won't hurt you."
"Who...who are you?"
"Gregory. How about you?"
"Asama."
"Asama. That's a beautiful name."
She stopped moving.
"Really?"
"Really."
I held my hand out to her. She looked at it for a second before grabbing hold. I gently helped her to her feet.
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome."
"How did you get yourself into that mess?"
"It's no mystery. Wolves like the taste of Orc."
"Wait. You're an Orc?"
"Of course."
"I thought Orcs were big, green, buff monsters."
"Where did you hear that?"
"In a book," I said sheepishly.
"Not a good one."
"Does this happen to you a lot?"
"It didn't used to," she said sadly, "not when my sisters lived here with me."
"What happened to them? If you don't mind my asking."
