She brought up her left arm and checked it easily. Due to her weakened arms, the drunken haze, and the Ork's strength her own arm slapped painfully across her swollen face; the force rattled her teeth. He swung again and this time instead of blocking she stepped inside his swing. She dropped low to one knee and delivered a quick punch to the inside of his right knee. Kraeska's leg gave out and he started to fall to his knee. As he began his descent, Corshia coild her legs beneath her. With all the strength she had left she snapped herself up driving her left knee into Kraeska's throat to crush his wind pipe. At least, that was the plan but her aim was slightly off and his jaw absorbed most of the impact. Still, there was some satisfaction in hearing the loud crack as his teeth pounded together. Kraeska fell on his back; his hands went to his throat and jaw. He coughed up blood and teeth. He drew in a shallow hacking breath. She looked across the tent; her eyes rested on the tent fly. She started for it, stepping around the toppled commander. She could see the light of flames flickering through the edges of her exit. Where would she go she wondered briefly. And then she realized her mistake as the slack ran out on the chain around her ankle. Her feet were jerked hard from underneath her. She didn't get her hands up in time and her head smacked hard on the ground. She scrambled to get to her feet but couldn't maintain her balance and she fell over exhausted. She watched helplessly as Kraeska sat up, dropping the chain from his hand. He recovered much faster than she expected and she cursed herself for not guaranteeing he was out. There was no more playful grins, no lust in his eyes; he would kill her now. He walked over slowly while he refastened his pants and belt. Those cold eyes never left her. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She would die here, alone. Leon, forgive me she thaught to herself. At least she would die a warrior and not some Ork trash's mistress; used and spoiled so long she would forget her self and cut her own throat in disgrace. No... She had made him pay. Kraeska's battered face came into view as he stood over here. He reached up and with his finger and thumb he cracked his mashed nose back into place. He grunted as fresh blood seeped out. The blood dripped down across her abdomen. He snorted back and spit a glob of blood and snot; it spattered across her right shoulder. She could see him prodding the end of a broken canine with his tongue. He hooked his finger into his mouth and with a grimace fished out clumps of blood, skin, and shards of broken teeth. His mouth closed in a hard line as he looked over her, studying her for some moments.
He reached down, she tried to intercept his hand but he batted her arm away effortlessly. His firm grip clamped around her throat. She pried and clawed at the thick Orkanti skin of his hand to no avail. He lifted her up, slowly, maintaining that cold stare. She grabbed at his forearm, pulling herself up; allowing for short breaths. His grip tightened suddenly and forcefully as his powerful arm flexed. Her arms slapped and flailed wildly, her legs bucked out weakly. She saw the tent fly open behind Kraeska. Her hope quickly faded as another large Ork walked through. He yelled something but she couldn't hear anything but a ringing in her ears. Everything started to fade out and then darkness.She was falling and then she crashed into something in the darkness. A dim light appeared and she felt a burning sensation move across her chest. She began to cough and choke. The light grew brighter. She sat upright quickly drawing in a deep breath. She rubbed at the painful tenderness of her throat as her vision cleared and the tent along with the horros of the night came roaring back to her. Her whole body shook as she looked around. A large grey Ork knelt beside her. He looked at her with eyes that matched his skin and hair; kind eyes. He reached out to her and she brought her hands up to shield her face but he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Princess Corshia, I am General Merko." She lowered her hands and looked around the tent nervously. When at last she met his gaze again he said, "I have relieved Commander Kraeska. You are no longer his prisoner; you will travel in my custody now." He rose to his feet and held down his hand, "Please, allow me to help you to your feet." She looked up at him suspiciously but grasped his hand. General Merko pulled her up carefully, allowing her to steady herself against him. She hugged herself and turned slightly, suddenly feeling very modest. She shiverd, now also very cold. The general undid his fur-lined cloak and layed it across her shoulders. She pulled it tight around her. "Thank you Gen..." she started to say but her voice cracked as she broke into a small coughing fit. "Say nothing of it. Come, can you walk? My priest awaits, he will care for your wounds." He placed a huge arm around her shoulder and lead her as she walked, her legs shaking. She faltered mid-step and he swiftly he swept her up into his arms like a father cradling a small child. And indeed she looked the part in the large Ork's arms. He shouldered through the tent fly.
As the General strode outside two armored Ork feel in behind him. Their armor was finely polished hard leather which covered most of their body. Kraeska's camp had been setup off the road in a clearing surrounded by short sparse trees. Her tent had been at the rear of the camp and now the General made his way back towards the road. Orks stood around camp fires gawking at her as the General walked past them. Some spat upon the ground and hung their heads. "Why..." she softly muttered; breaking off in another cough. The General, understanding her question, answered, "Kraeska's troops are shocked to discover your abuse. It is not our way. They are shamed and so they spit to show their disgust. Lucky for him he is our King's son or likely they would drive him out." As they neared the road she noticed the General's own troops setting up their camp on the other side of the road.