Unfinished Explorer's Tale

>Be an explorer of this new/old world
>Mostly travel around, do what odd jobs need being done. Trade modern trinkets for the fantastical. Make tons of friends from Fae to Ogre along the way
>It's not a bad life either. Their cheapest coin is made of solid copper, which means I end having a lot more $$$ when I come back from an "expedition"
One Day
>Chill at tavern's bar enjoying some stew
>farm boy runs in
>A horde of Orcs have broken a tribute agreement with a subservient human Kingdom, and declared war after raiding a few villages
>It's time
>Pack up my guns in the trusty gym bag and head out
>After two days of walking, make it to the Kingdom's capital
>Streets are filled with survivors and Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) of the Orc raids.
>The Herald for the king says they dont have much, but are desperate for any help, and make loads of promises about settling the debts after the war
>Most of the mercenaries that showed up before me packed up and left. No sign of a relief force from the neighboring elves or other human kingdoms.
>The whole situation seems doomed to fail
>But when you see enough men and women, even kids beg and plead to you for help, it's hard to close your eyes and walk away.
>Agree to help
>The Herald takes a big sigh of relief
>The "army" (more like a bunch of old men and young boys given spears and planks of wood for shields) was set to move out the next morning, so I was to go meet up with the commanding general
>But before I left, I felt a tug on my fatigues
>It's a woman. With a very, very cold expression on their face
>The herald came back
>"As a valued protector of the Kingdom, you've been awarded a squire to assist you in your duty to save the people of the realm"
>what
>Turns out her name was Herra
>She's a survivor of one of the Orc raids. She hid in a hay stack as her family was murdered by orcs. She managed to escape in the night after the attack.
>How she survived out there in the wilderness, Herra wouldnt say

>As a matter of fact, Herra doesnt say much anything at all. Is she mute?
>but she is certainly assertive, she yanks my equipment and bags and slings them on her back
>She grabs my gym bag
>Like hell I'm going to get some medieval stranger handle my guns. I snatch it back
"No. This one is mine"
>She just stares at me with those icy eyes, then looks away, and starts walking away
"Hey! Where are you going?!"
>She just keeps walking
>Right to the kingdom army's camp; commander's tent.
>Commander is thankful there's some assistance from the "New world", and has just the plan to "use me"
>Great.
>He asks for what "handgonnes" I've brought to the table
>From the gym bag, I reveal a Benelli M4, a Zastava M70, a HK MR762A1, and a Glock 20
>He "mmmmmms" and "hmmmmms" a lot, before running back to a desk in his tent, producing a map
>We're going to meet the main Orcish horde at a sunken valley; it's along the path the orcs were taking to head towards the capital.
>And the last stop before said capital
>Fuck this is really impromptu
>We're dismissed to eat dinner, and rest for the night
>I start setting up a tent away from the main cluster of tents, when again I'm tugged
>Oh shit, I forgot about Herra
>She skips me to tries to set up my old army tent
>She couldnt figure out how to work the wire-poles, and out of frustration, throws them to the ground and storms off
>lol okay
>Set up tent, get an MRE cooking, and go about re-mounting my 10x scope on my HK
>Herra comes back, sits down, and just watches me
>Try to talk to her, but it's a lot like talking to a wall
>Preform functions check on guns, start loading magazines for the night
>She scoots close
"You want to learn how to load?
>She just stares
>Well, maybe this is how she can help me
>Demonstrate how to shove a round down a magazine, have her try
>She fumbles with the first round, and the second, but starts to accept the amount of finger strength needed to get the third one in well enough

>Let her load a few more magazines for practice
>Show her how to load the shotgun, and what the different types of shells mean, what the different guns are called, how they work, etc
>She seems to just absorb it all with the unblinking eyes
>"rrrrrrrrr"
>lol she must be hungry
>Give her my MRE, get another one out for myself
>Have to open the packets for her, put she seemed to admire the oddity of eating out of a pouch, and the fact that the MRE had more flavor that what she's probably used to
>My watch say's it's 2100, time for bed
>Where the hell is this girl going to sleep?
>Resolve on giving her my tent, a blanket, and a canteen with water. I'll sleep on the tarp in my sleeping bag
>Tell her good night, and doze off

>Wake up at 0500
>People are already taking down their tents. Fuck they are early risers
>Even Herra isnt in the tent
>Fuck
>Take down tent, get breakfast MREs going, get combat gear on
>Mid-cut ACH, IBA with eight mag pouches (four for the HK, four for the M70), Level 4 plates
>Get a tap on the shoulder
>It's Herra
>With a fucking Pavise shield. No paint mind you, but damn
>She shoves it at me, I guess this is a gift
''Thank you very much!"
>She let out the tiniest of smiles before taking it, and slinging it over her back
>We eat, grab the guns, spare mags and ammo, and set out with the army
>We arrive at the sunken valley not 30 minutes of walking later
>The valley is a perfect shooting gallery. We're set up on a hill overlooking a little trickling stream, while the orcs should be appearing over on the opposing hill across the stream, about a football field away from us.
>Commander tells us where to position ourselves. I set myself on the highest point of our hill with Herra in tow
>Herra plants the Pavise in front of me. Makes for a great shooting rest
>everything is set up, now we wait

>Hours pass
>Everyone is sitting in the grass, not speaking a word
>The commander sends out a young man on a horse to scout
>The scout goes down our hill
>Across the little stream
>up the other hill
>And over the crest
>"Thwack"
>Scout gets an arrow through the chest, falls limp on the horse
>Horse turns right around
>Down the hill, across the stream, up our hill
>And straight past the commander, into the beyond
>Oh Fuck
>Orc war horns start bellowing
>Herra curls up into a ball, covering her ears
>The horde emerges over the crest
>They are a ridiculous sight: Crude plates of iron and wood make patchworks of protection over their form. Stolen and desecrated helms barely fit over their troglodyte heads. Loin cloths and robes are assembled from everything from actual clothes to curtains and rugs. The rest of their decorum consisted of human, elf, dwarf, and other specie's remains
>The bigger orcs are the more important ones, better target them first
"Permission to engage?"
>The commander nods his head
>Chamber a round, safety off, Take up stance, start scanning
>Find one, about twice and a half the size of some of the peasants here
BANG
>His stolen helmet flies off in the pink mist. Hopefully that avenged the helmet's original owners
>The smaller orcs around the headless one were a bit freaked out by that, but steel their resolve, and rush forward
>The rest of the green wave rushes forth down the hill
>Peasants stand up, form shield walls
>Keep scanning, finding new targets
BANG....BANG..BANG...BANG....BANG
>what shots aren't killing instantly cause the big ones to fall over wounded, causing other orcs to trample over them. They subsequently trip, fall, and are also trampled under the horde
>The orc wave nonetheless crosses the stream, and charging up our hill, clash with the shield wall
>The clattering iron, the screams, the bloody mess of the whole thing is unreal. It's hard to even keep looking through the scope without witnessing a horror
>My mind forces me to look down
>Herra is there, picking up my empty mags and reloading them
>Regain my composure. For her if anything.

>Keep popping the biggest ones, if they all looks the same, then pop them too
>Run out of 7.62 NATO, time for 7.62x39
"M70 please"
Herra passes it over, takes the HK, laying it down with great care in the gym bag
>Start mag dumping the M70, even bad shots would still hit an orc
>Some crude orc arrows land on the sheild. Shoot them in return.
>Just keep shooting
>Human line is holding strong
>Then the Orc horns sound off again
>Some very large orcs come over their hill
>No armor or clothes, hair braided into knots, eyes beaming in a neon red
>And carrying large, very large iron clubs
>Shitshitshitshitshit
>These were some sort of Berzerker gang, pumped up on drugs
>They start rushing down the hill, stepping over their own orcs, bashing them into a mess to make their way to the front
>Mag dumping into them as well
>They are tough as nails.
>One even got hit in the dick and he didnt even seem to notice
>But enough hits to the head seems to do them in
>One makes it to the shields though
>And his swings start mashing a hole through the wall
>Keep shooting until the M70 is empty
>He's not stopping
>Only coming for me
"Shotgun, slugs"
>Herra hands it over
>Berzerker breaks through, starts charging
BANG
BANG
BANG
>That shot smashes a femur, he limps with great tenacity
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
>The Berzerker pants heavily, the glow in his eyes fading, using his club as a walking stick
>His jaw hangs lazily by a few strands of sinew, an eye is put out, an arm flops along, his chest is spilling with gore and insides, but he still keeps trying to come over
>It's almost sad
>Drop shotgun, crown him with the glock
>He just slumps to the ground. His body barely held together, his spirit letting go of the body
>Pick up shotgun, hand it to Herra, hiding behind me
"Buckshot"
>Her eyes look terrified, but she shakily gets to loading
>Buckshot contains the hole made in the shield wall fairly well, but trying to avoid friendly fire is difficult, so we move closer