Read at your own risk. Lots of blood and gore ahead. That said, enjoy.

__________

Once they reached camp, the spell caster was strung up, spread-eagle. The iron chains at his hands were pulled taut over his head and his legs were secured to the supporting poles at each side.

They didn't bother with the other prisoner. He had not regain consciousness yet. He was half dead anyway and did not pose a threat, so they just cuffed his neck with an iron collar and secured the thick chain to another stout pole driven deep into the ground.

The spell caster was obviously the more dangerous one, he was obviously the leader and would also probably know more.

"Strip him."

At once, several orcs approached Constantine and ripped off the warlock's clothes roughly. Their eyes glittered in anticipation. The fun was going to start soon. In a few seconds, the warlock's expensive silk robes were torn from his bloody body. Constantine stood shivering in the cold, clad only in his loose pants and mage boots.

"Now," Braukke, the Captain asked, circling the Red Warlock, "Where were we?"

"You should step down from your post miserable orc for having such short term memory." Constantine replied sourly.

He had almost fully recovered his Health and his Energy, although it did take longer than usual. The half dried blood on his body and his tattoos hid his healed wounds. There was nothing wrong with his recovery rate unlike Lazarus, but the orc chains did slow down the process considerably.

The Captain grinned making his grey scarred face even uglier. He held out his hand and a wicked looking whip was placed in it. Slowly, he unwound it and flexed his bulging muscles. It was time for some fun.

Twack! He hit the ground experimentally. Dirt flew in the air and a small hole appeared. Constantine winced. Braukke tapped the whip against his huge palm. "Let's try again."

"Where is the girl heading?"

Constantine gulped closing is eyes. This was going to be painful. He took a deep breath and answered, "What girl?"

Twack!

"Arrgghhh!!"

The Red Warlock's body jerked in response. A bloody red line appeared diagonally on his broad back as the thin whip sliced his skin.

"Wrong answer." The grey leader paused, "Or maybe you didn't understand the question. I suppose your race, whatever you are, is not very smart. Just look at how the two of you tried to take on all of us," He guffawed at the memory. "Let me spell it out for you. Where did Kasakh, the half-grown female orc escape to? Where is she going with the other one and the puppies?"

"Oh ... is that her name? Nice name, I didn't know."

"Good answer stubborn one."

Twack! Twack! Blood sprayed from the warlock's body as he spasm in pain.

Every time the stubborn gatekeeper gave a nonsensical answer, the whip came down. Soon his flesh was in strips. Bright red blood covered his lacerated body, soaking his pants and trickling into his boots. He hung his head breathing irregularly.

Constantine, Health 68 per cent

"Sir, I don't think this is working. Maybe we should ...?" he glanced at the bleeding Assassin laying on the ground.

"Hmmm."

"What? What are you going to do?" Constantine raised his head, fear lacing his voice. Braukke's musing tone scared him.

The Warlock's damaged body was already recovering under all the blood but the Captain did not notice. All he needed was to stall for time. The Red Warlock pretended continued weakness, trying to fool the orc. As long as he retained the orc's attention Lazarus would have time to heal. He knew Lazarus' poison affected his recovery process slowing it down significantly. The Assassin could not heal as fast as his high level guaranteed until he rid himself of the poison flowing in his veins. He had to keep Lazarus alive until they escaped, or all would be for nought. He was the one who should get the cure. Lazarus couldn't die here. The Assassin's avatar would not make it if he had to gather all the Orbs again.

"O'kay! O'kay! I'll tell you what you want. Just leave him alone," Constantine cried in panic.

"What is he to you?" Braukke asked in delight as face split into a huge grin, his eyes gleaming with malicious mirth. His suspicions had been confirmed. These creatures were so soft hearted, it was going to be more fun. "So, he is a friend to you then ... and you care for him?"

Constantine clenched his jaw. He had watched too many movies not to realise that he had just made a tactical mistake. He should have pretended not to bother about Lazarus, but he couldn't.

"Who me? Care? Of course not but he doesn't know anything."

Braukke smirked in glee. He barked a command to his underling, a thick finger pointing to the fallen Assassin. "You! Wake him up! Now!"

"I said he doesn't know anything. He can't even do any magic. He is just ... ummm, nobody," Constantine said desperately.

Braukke ignored the Red Warlock. Cold water was splashed onto Lazarus, freezing his already chilled body.

"Ughhh..." the unconscious prisoner mumbled weakly waking up. He shivered violently.

"Wake up!" the soldier kicked the gatekeeper's stomach. When the creature moaned and tried to curl defensively into a ball, the orc grabbed a fistful of his long dark hair, yanking him up. Lazarus was pulled into a sitting position and held in place by his hair. His face was a mask of pain. One hand held the back of his head which was slick with half dried blood, whilst his other hand pressed down on his wounded leg.

"Hold him," Braukke ordered.

"No! Wait! WAIT! I'll tell you!"

The grey orc laughed in delight. He raised his whip, "O'kay, so tell me, where is she going?"

Constantine's eyes darted to the semi-conscious Assassin. "She ... she said she was going home."

Twack!! The whip came down hard on Lazarus. He cried out in pain and strained against his captors as a deep red line materialised on his chest, fresh red blood immediately soaking into his torn shirt.

"I told you!! Why did you hit him?" cried Constantine.

"You told me nothing. Tell me something useless again and he'll suffer for it. Understand?"

The Red Warlock pulled wildly against his chains. Was the savage orc crazy? Was Simtrixx mad? How could they do this? Did they forget the gatekeepers were not ordinary players, that they felt everything in virtual? Or was that fact ignored because they were only five, a minority among the thousands of players Orc Wars had now? It was inconceivable, it was insane, it was inhumane. His angry jumbled thoughts was cut off by the next question.

"Where is Kasakh's home?"

"I ... I don't know ... she was taking us there," he said, tears of anger and frustration running down his cheeks. If only he could get free, he would blast that smirk off Braukke's face along with his head.

Twack! Twack! Twack! Lashes rained down on Lazarus as his body arced in agony at the torture. The orcs holding the Assassin let him go. Lazarus writhed in pain moaning in the dirt. He automatically hugged his bloody chest as if trying to hold onto his torn flesh.

Lazarus, Health 21 per cent

"Hold him down! Straighten his legs."

"You!" Braukke pointed to an orc holding a heavy spiked club. "Break his legs if the spell caster can't answer my next question."

The orc obligingly held Lazarus down roughly whilst a comrade straightened his legs securing them at the ankles with his meaty hands. The one with the spiked weapon cracked his knuckles and readied himself in anticipation.

"Aghhh ..." the gatekeeper struggled helplessly under them. "Damn it," he cursed ineffectively dreading the next few moments.

"Why is she going home?"

"She ... we are looking for the cure too. We hoped her father might have left some clue there," Constantine answered desperately. When Braukke raised his hand to signal his underling, Constantine added hastily, "Stop!! Stop! There must be a clue! Sharak must have left something! She is his daughter, she must know! Please!!"

Ahhh, now he was getting some useful answers. The orc paused, eyes glittering. "The cure?"

"Yes, yes!! The cure to the Overlord's young one's poison."

"Why? Why do care about him? What is he to you?"

"Oh!!" An orc stumbled forward awkwardly interrupting the interrogation and whispered urgently to his superior. "Sir!! I recognise these creatures. They are humans!"

"Humans?"

"Yes Sir, humans like in the ancient prophesy! That's why they would want to help the jaav ukon! That could be the only reason."

Black beady eyes bulged in sudden fear as the surrounding orcs became tensed. A low uneasy murmur rose among the warriors.

They all knew about the ancient prophesy and the humans, but it had not occurred to Braukke that these puny beings could be the ones mentioned. They were so weak and helpless. Just look at them!

"They did come down from the forbidden mountain, My Lord," the orc added, supporting his theory.

"It's the ghost lords! The human ghost lords!"

"The time of the prophesy is here! We are doomed!"

"Shut up, SHUT UP! All of you." Braukke backhanded the offending warrior, but the damage had been done. He had inadvertently opened a can of worms. His superstitious underlings were terrified because the careless warrior had openly blurted his untimely and unverified suspicions. Now, he had the task of verifying it, or lose all support of his warriors. It was said, all who go against the human ghost lords would perish.

Constantine hesitated listening to the orcs restless speculations. He and the other gatekeepers didn't care about the young prince, not really. They were searching for the cure for Lazarus, for Anya and when they got it they were leaving this savage place. They wanted nothing to do with the Overlord or this realm's problems. He regretted ever wanting to come to this brutal place. The orc realm was nothing more than a lawless, horrifying place of terror and pain.

Braukke turned back to Constantine.

"Answer the next question carefully, wretched human," he growled.

Constantine nodded. Anything to gain some time.

"Are you a ghost lord?"

"Yes, I am."

The warriors exchanged anxious looks among themselves.

"What about that pathetic one?" Braukke pointed at the Assassin.

"Yes. He too is a ghost lord," Constantine responded. Maybe they would leave them alone if he admitted that he and Laz were ghost lords. 

The growing tension was shattered by Braukke's sudden deafening laugh. He threw back his head and roared, slapping his hands on his thighs in mirth.

"Do you believe him? Do you?" Braukke pointed at one orc after another. His warriors relaxed and started grinning foolishly among themselves. To think they had almost fallen for the crafty human's lies.

"Ha, ha, ha!! Do you honestly expect me to believe you? Are you telling me your weak dying friend over there is one of the fabled powerful ghost lords?"

Constantine gritted his teeth. He knew better than to respond to the orc's goading.

"We are not fools. Your lies will not save you or your friend."

Braukke bowed mockingly at Constantine and addressed his troops, "They may be humans but they certainly are NOT ghost lords. I will prove it to you. The real ghost lords are immortal and heal instantly."

Without warning, he jerked his hand at the orc towering over Lazarus. Everything happened very fast.

"Aaarrgghh!!"

Lazarus yelled as the heavy spiked club come down onto his kneecaps smashing them. Next the orc went for his lower legs (tibia and fibula) and finally one of his thigh bones (femur). The terrible club bore down mercilessly again and again, tearing flesh and shattering bones. Only after five or six strikes later did Braukke stop the grinning orc from his bloody fun.

The gatekeeper lay moaning in a pool of blood. He couldn't move. There were bits of splintered white bone jutting out from his mangled legs. His silver eyes were shut tightly against the cruel world. Lazarus was in his own dark world of misery and pain.

Lazarus, Health 13 per cent

"No! No! Laz!!" Constantine lost his cool. Lazarus couldn't die here. Not like this. "You monsters!! Damn you!!" Constantine shouted. "I'm going to kill you all when I get free! You hear me? I'm going to kill you!!" The Red Warlock shouted at the grinning orc.

"Kill me?" Braukke guffawed loudly. He pointed at Lazarus. "He is no ghost lord," he said loudly, confidently, dispelling his subordinates' fears. "See? He is not even healing. In fact, he will die very soon on his own from shock and blood loss. We won't even need to finish the job. And since he is not a ghost lord, neither are you," the Captain concluded turning to Constantine. He had regained his warriors' unwavering support.

The other orcs, relieved that the humans in front of them were just normal weak humans and not ghost lords after all, burst out laughing at Constantine's ludicrous statement. The puny prisoner wanted to kill their strong Captain. Now that was funny.

"Go ahead human, it will interesting to see now you can manage that." Braukke hawked his throat nosily and spat out a gooey glob of phlegm onto the ground.

Constantine continued raving and ranting in several languages until he was hoarse. The spell caster was having a breakdown. He was clearly in no position to give any more coherent information for the time being. The noisy human was irritating Braukke. It was no fun if the prisoner could not fully feel the terror and anguish his every answer or non-answer could cause.

An orc came running from the main tent. "The Commander is asking for you."

Braukke growled in displeasure. Just when it was getting to the fun part. Never mind. The prisoners were tied up securely and not going anywhere. He would continue at leisure later when he could fully enjoy any torture that came to mind with the excuse of obtaining information.

He wanted to see how much the ghost lords, if they really were ghost lords could take before dying, but he wanted to keep his suspicions to himself for now. He would report and get further instructions. Braukke didn't really believe the two prisoners were immortal like the rumours. So far, they had been a disappointment. They were nothing like the reputation that had spread after Prince Khaltu had returned triumphant from the other side with Lord Commander Varbuk in tow.

"Shut him up. Ten lashes. We will continue the interrogation later."

The huge orc paused a moment as he passed Lazarus. It was said ghost lords were hard to kill because they could heal themselves instantly. He highly doubted that, just look at this specimen. He didn't seem to be healing at all.

Braukke walked away as his minions started their assigned task. The whip was raised repeatedly and brought down on the chained warlock mercilessly. Constantine's swearing turned into screams filling the air.