"Ye know him as Taen the Terror! He’s slain countless monsters in this very arena!" the Fight Master called out to the thousands of dwarves in the stands, his voice having been carried to the farthest corners of the cavern by clever architecture and a bit of magic. "And ye’ve seen the mighty Taen take down the best fighters in the realm! Today, ye’ll get ta see him take on the legendary Orc Chieftan! We dwarves can’t pronounce his name or that o’ his tribe; their language is just a bunch o’ fucking garbled nonsense, after all!"

This drew a roar of laughter from the gathered audience, and a long round of applause, accompanied by insults and spit being launched at the orc. He stood in the arena, chains long gone, instead wearing his rusted metal armor covered in spikes. In his clawed green hands, he held a large wooden club with long, rusted metal spikes protruding at odd angles all over the business end. As the spit from hundreds of dwarves, the one’s close enough to be accurate, splattered over the Orc Chieftan, he roared and gnashed his teeth, touching his thumb and pinkie together in a very rude orcish gesture. Of course, no dwarves knew what it meant, but they figured it wasn’t very nice. More boos, insults, and spit flew at the Chieftan.

"This monster has never lost a battle! His story has long been told in Kelgrond, to scare our dwarflings into doing as their parents bid!"

More laughter erupted at the truth of this statement.

"But the deeds he is most famous for are no laughing matter. This puss-loving shite for breath orc has killed countless dwarves on the battlefield. Of course, never in honorable battle. As ye all know, the fucking orcs never fight with honor. Nay, they creep out of the ground while our troops are asleep and kill the poor bastards in their bed rolls."

More boos and screams of, "Kill it Taen!" and "Revenge for the fallen! Aye!" filled the stone walled arena.

"Be that as it may, the beast’s fighting prowess should no’ be downplayed. It took twenty-five o’ our best armed Royal Elite to capture the Orc Chieftan alive. By order of the Queen, may she be protected evermore by the ancestors and the Gods that keep them, he was to be brought in alive to face judgment by her favored fighter!"

The crowd roared applause at this, and the Queen stood in her viewing box while waving and bowing to her gathered subjects. She then sat back down and tucked into a box of her favorite pastries from a nearby shop, small mini cakes filled with berries.

The audience wasn’t only applauding to show their undying love for the ruler of the kingdom. They were also showing appreciation for her relationship with Taen. It wasn’t a typical mother/son bond, but they felt that the Queen was doing her best, considering the circumstances.

Of course, Taen didn’t believe that for a second. He knew the truth of their relationship.

Taen the Terror stood at the gate just out of sight from the arena’s crowd, but he could hear the entire introduction by the Fight Master. And it made him sick.

"Favored fighter... a bunch o’ orc shite, that is," he muttered to himself.

Both of his parents were not on Taen’s list of favorite dwarves at the moment. Firstly, there was the Queen. See, the King had gone and died many years ago, but not before providing an heir to the throne. Prince Rex was beloved by the entire kingdom of Kelgrond. He was honorable, he was handsome with golden hair and beard always unbraided and flowing freely. Rex was a master military strategist. He truly was an incredible dwarf. So, it should be noted that having more children was never part of the Queen’s plan. But, the Queen had needs; needs of a sexual nature, you understand. And since the King was long gone, she sought pleasure from members of the Royal Court. No blood relatives, of course, but any handsome and regal members of the upper crust of dwarven society would do for her. And they did. She gained quite a reputation for having a lustful appetite. And there were no complications with her lifestyle for years. Until she had fucked Waybrun Heft; Taen’s father.

Waybrun was a banking dwarf, which is to say that he owned a lot of fucking banks. And he was loaded with coin, more so than the Royal Coffers, if the rumors were to be believed. But that is not what drew the Queen to him. She didn’t need money, she had no idea what to do with it. For Queen Taena’s entire life the Royal Accountants took care of all things having to do with cost and spending. Coin was an abstract concept to Queen Taena. She was drawn to Waybrun because of his dark black hair and well-oiled beard, which had four braids. The entire royal court was drawn to his beautiful eyes and chiseled features. But the Queen had laid claim to Waybrun’s love life. They romanced each other for an entire year before Queen Taena had discovered she was with child.

It was a political nightmare, her advisors had told her. It will ruin the Royal image, so they begged her to get rid of the fetus with magic. She refused them. Taena wanted to give life to this baby, even though she knew it would never truly be her child. It could not be. A child born out of wedlock would never be an heir, and could not live at the palace. But Waybrun could raise the child and Taena could visit as often as was deemed appropriate. And she had decided to not keep this a secret from her kingdom.

Queen Taena issued riders to the far reaches of Kelgrond, even outside the mountain to the hill towns and sea villages. "The Queen is pregnant!" They shouted in each village and town. The smallfolk rejoiced, but also grew curious about the father. The King was dead, wasn’t he? So, the next month, she sent the riders out who posted notices in all the towns in her kingdom.

"Waybrun Heft, a wealthy bank owner, has become very special to our Queen, may she be protected by the ancestors and the Gods that keep them. She is pregnant with his child. This child will not be a part of the Royal Family, but will be cared for and loved as if it were. The Queen is not regretful of this child, but welcomes the addition of another dwarf to her kingdom."

"But things didn’t work out quite that way, did they?" Taen thought to himself, still waiting to be called out to fight the Orc Chieftan. He held his expertly crafted axe and shield, both gifts from his father when Taen had entered the Royal Fight Academy, having been granted entry by order of the Queen. Not that she had ever come to see him there. She hadn’t come to see him since he was a child. That’s why he knew she didn’t love him. His own mother didn’t care for him. And his father? He only cared about money.

In fact, just before Taen had come out today in preparation for this fight, Waybrun had cornered him in their estate and said, "Taen, me boy. I’ve wagered a huge sum of coin on ye today. I know ye’ll do me proud, but could ye, just maybe for yer old Da’, drag the fight out to more than five minutes? I’ll win a substantial sum, Taen. Enough to buy whatever ye want!"

Taen had looked at his greedy father and shook his head. "Da’, we already have enough coin to buy whatever we want! Why do ye put this kind of stress on me right before a fight? I’m ta go in there with a monster known ta kill dwarves... and stall? I’m yer own blood, and ye treat me like an investment. I love ye, Da’, I do. But I miss the days when we trained together, when we drank together, when we talked to one another. When ye look at me now, ye just see potential to make more coin."

"Don’t ye disrespect yer Da’ like this, son. Do as ye been told. Five minutes or longer. Or don’t come home," Waybrun replied icily.

Taen couldn’t believe what his father had just said. Waybrun wasn’t exactly the mostly loving father in the realm, but he wouldn’t be so cruel to his own son. Taen then saw the conviction in Waybrun’s eyes, and he knew the truth of the dwarf’s threat.

"So be it, then," Taen had said and strode off to the arena, feeling more alone than usual.

It was almost time, Taen suddenly realized. The Fight Master was reaching his crescendo of hype and soon the gate would open. And Taen would have to see his "mother." Though, to be true, she had let it be known that they were not related, and never could be. Aside from never coming to see her illegitimate son after he reached his teens, the Queen had sent out a third set of riders to give a message to the kingdom about Taen. This one, though, had just gone the previous year. Calls for Taen’s addition to the Royal Family had started come from the legions of arena fans who watched his fights with so much admiration.

"He’s the greatest fighter in all of yer kingdom, me Queen!" one very fat dwarf had shouted at Taena during one such arena fight. "Let him be yer fuckin’ son, then! What’s it ta hurt if we have two bloody princes?"

This had apparently been the weed that broke the aurochs back because the following day she released the final message to her kingdom about Taen. Assuming that everyone knew by now who he was, she hadn’t even included his name in the message.

"Dwarves of Kelgrond,

I love and appreciate every single one of my loyal subjects. I have heard your messages and complaints about my second born child. But, the truth is that I have only one child. The illegitimate dwarf I birthed years ago is not my son. He is the son of Waybrun Heft and is cared for greatly. He will never be an heir to the throne and cannot live in the palace. I truly am sorry to anyone saddened by this but please do know the boy is quite happy.

Sincerely and with love,

Your Queen"

NOT MY SON. Those words were etched into the backs of Taen’s eyelids. He saw them when he slept, when he blinked, and when he closed his eyes against the bright daylight outside the mountain. He even saw them as he waited to be called into the arena, where the Orc Chieftan waited to die.

"SO, WITHOUT ANYMORE SHITE FROM ME LIPS, PLEASE WELCOME... TAEN THE TERROR!" the Fight Master screamed so loudly that his magically enhanced voice made dust fall from the domed ceiling of the underground arena.

The gate swung open, and out stormed Taen in his fine leather armor. His double-bladed axe held in his left hand, his wooden shield rimmed with dwarven steel in his right. Without hesitation, the dwarf made a beeline towards the huge green monster at the other end of the fighting pit. The orc took up his spiked club and joined the charge. They raced at each other, the Orc Chieftan drooling and snarling, while Taen was silent and pictured his mother and father, and then heard the words, "Not my son" whispered on the wind.

The orc swung his weapon across and down, hoping to crush Taen’s large dwarven head. But the dwarven fighter expected the move and rolled under the swing. As he completed the roll, Taen pushed with his powerful dwarven legs and sailed through the air, shield first. The steel cap in the middle smashed right into the Orc Chieftan’s piggish snout. Dark blood streamed from the orc’s hideous face as he came around to find the dwarf already poised for another attack.

The orc stabbed with forward with his club, attempting to spear the little runt with a particularly long spike at the tip of his weapon. Taen dropped his shield and spun to the side as he did so. He then sprinted forward, placing his foot on the Orc Chieftan’s thigh and using that to propel his dense dwarven body straight up into the air. He cleared the orc’s head by a good foot or so, and then rocketed back down, his double-bladed axe held in both hands. As he sailed down towards the confused face of the monster, Taen looked to the stands. He saw his father sitting there with a look of horror on his face.

"He knows I don’t aim ta drag this fight out. Da’ knows he’s ta lose his bet," Taen thought to himself. The Terror smiled wide as he split the orc from the tip of its skull all the way down to the groin. The two halves of the beast fell to the sides as far as they could, its blood and vitals spilling out onto the arena stones.

The audience’s roar was deafening.

Later, in the fighter’s prep room, Taen cleaned his axe and shield of the dark orc blood that covered them. He then removed his leather armor and wiped it clean, as well. Footsteps approached and he assumed it was the Fight Master come to congratulate him, as was usual.

But it was Waybrun that entered the prep room.

"Yer no’ my son. Don’t ye ever come back to the estate, ye hear me? All yer belongings are mine. I bought them and now I’ll have to sell them all just ta make up for the coin I lost because of ye," he growled.

That wasn’t exactly true. Taen had used his arena winnings to purchase much of the nonsense that cluttered up his life. But at that moment, Taen didn’t want it anymore. He had made up his mind.

"Fine, Waybrun," he said, using his father’s name for the first time ever. It felt very strange to call him that, but the old man had insisted Taen was not his son, so first names it would have to be. "Ye keep that shite. I’ll be just fine. I’ll collect my winnings from today and take my leave of this Gods forsaken city."

"Where will ye go, then?" Waybrun asked, his voice a little softer.

"Dunno. Why? Does it matter ta ye, then?" Taen shot back venomously.

The anger crept its way back into Waybrun’s voice as he said one last thing to his son, "Don’t ye dare come back, Taen. We’re finished, we are."

"I don’t aim ta come back, ye bastard," Taen muttered to the Waybrun’s back as he stalked out of the prep rooms beneath the arena.

The fighter gathered his winnings from the Fight Master’s assistant and stopped into the tavern attached to the arena. Taen wanted to have a meal and few pints of ale before he fled the city for good and searched for a new life. The dwarf behind the bar was a jovial fellow, telling stories to all the patrons and making them laugh heartily while they kept ordering more and more dwarven drink.

"Peng!" one patron yelled, "Tell us about that time yer Ma’ fed the Queen some cakes!"

"Aye, then tell us how yerself fed Ol’ Mireen yer snake!" said another drunken dwarf, indicating the ancient female who owned the tavern. The collective population of the bar, Mireen included, guffawed at the bawdy joke.

After finishing his mutton pie, which was okay, but lacked a few essential spices in Taen’s opinion, the bastard son of the Queen left Kelgrond Central, and then soon after Kelgrond Mountain. He took to the old country roads in search of a place to lay his head for the night. He was certain that it would take a long time to find a proper new home. But, he had done some adventuring out here between fights in the arena, and Taen well knew that these types of quests had a mind of their own.

As he strode down the road, the lanterns of a tavern caught his eye. The Grinding Wheel came into full view as he got nearer and it seemed a nice place to spend the evening. The next morning as he was preparing to leave for good, Taen saw a female dwarf cleaning the public room from last night’s drunken revelry. She had the cutest spread of freckles at her shoulders, a nice big waist, and the prettiest brown eyes.

"Maybe, I’ll stay a little longer," Taen said as he noticed a sign at the counter that read:

"CLEANING CREW NEEDED, SPEAK TO THE OWNERS IF INTERESTED IN SOME WORK."

Next Chapter: Revenge