Toby licked his lips, eyeing the drooling green cock a couple of feet from his face, smelling the musk rolling over him. He looked over at the Professor Jeral, likely lost before he could get here, and wondered what he should be feeling. He was…brilliant, and yet watching him slobber all over the chief’s skin, seeing him lose himself in the pleasure of the tribe…Toby found himself longing for it. “No–No, I…but I–” he stammered, but he found himself losing the words even as he spoke them. Kal’Ragek didn’t need words, the lord demanded action. He knelt lower, kissing the chief’s feet, licking the dust from them, tasting them, and worked his way higher until the chief–his chief–allowed him to suck at his cock, and taste him again. Kal’Ragek could forgive, and Toby–he desired forgiveness more than anything else.

An hour later, the three of them returned to the tribe, and were welcomed back into the fold. Professor Jeral was presented to Kal’Ragek, and he immediately fell to his knees, ass high, ready to be brought into the tribe. Other men were there as well–more men than Toby recalled there being when he’d left earlier. They were…being drawn here. Kal’ragek was powerful enough now to pull them in, to begin rebuilding what he had lost.

“Go, brother. Bring him in. Give yourself to our Lord and prove you are not an enemy, accept your name, and your place at my side.”

Toby stepped forward, running his hands over his professor’s ass, feeling how smooth his skin was–remembering how smooth his own skin had been, the old man flinching for a moment, and then relaxing. Toby stroked his cock until it was fully erect, nearly ten inches with a thick foreskin even larger than the chiefs, his balls aching below. Kal’Ragek was present–around him, and within him, as he slid his cock in his professor’s hole, listening to him groan with pleasure, Toby’s eyes locked on the glowing idol before him. Why had he been so afraid, before? There was no room for fear here–this was only room for power.

He felt his body swelling, the clothes he’d thown on tearing to bits within seconds, as his bones shifted and cracked. He’d grown substantially before this, but he recalled how Darren had exploded in size when he’d taken his new name–was he ready for this? Was he ready to give up everything he’d been? He gripped Jeral’s hips tight and thrust harder, both of them panting and groaning in unison, the tribe around them staring in rapture. He had to keep shifting position as he grew taller and broader, his face aching–his new face. His brow was thickening, his nose wider, the thick beard he’d sprouted over the past days growing longer until it hung below his chest, the hair on his head lengthening as well and turning a deep, oily black and lastly his teeth. He gritted them, feeling them sharpen, cutting into his gums, his incisors growing faster as his jaw widened, pressing out from his his mouth into tusks, wet with slobber and blood.

Kal’Ragek was there, inside him, and nothing else was anymore. The fear was gone, the knowledge of that old world fading faster, and he allowed it to go. They would create a new world now, like he had been created anew. His name was To’Rak, of the highest clan, second to the chief. He would never fear again, so long as the light of Kal’Ragek shone within him–may it never be doused for a thousand years.

A week after Darren first discovered the idol of Kal’Ragek, the campsite near the excavation site was empty. A crew of workers arrived to deliver a load of food and supplies, only to discover every tent was empty–it was like everyone had simply disappeared overnight. The excavation site was another mystery. It too was abandoned, but it looked like it had been ransacked at some point. Items had been taken seemingly at random, both from the storage and preservation areas, and also from within the ground. New holes had been dug, seemingly at random, and several objects of great size had been hauled from the ground and dragged away–but the trail ended at the edge of some woods.

The country buried the event, but the various explanations offered–everything from an attack by wild animals to mysterious kidnapping by a rogue terrorist organization–failed to satisfy the families of the men who had disappeared. The few women who had been at the dig site, however, appeared a couple of weeks later, unharmed, but with no memories at all of what had happened at the site, aside from a few wild tales of sex, and an eerie green light. In time, people stopped paying attention, as they do, and the mysterious disappearance was forgotten. The excavation site became the property of the military, but nothing of any worth was found, because the tribe had already reclaimed everything that mattered.

Kal’Ragek did not desire the world–a few scores of men worshipping him was more than enough to keep him satisfied. The tribe lived in the wilderness, and within six months they had all been granted new names, and with them, had lost all memory of the worlds they had come from. Darr’Rak, with To’Rak at his side, were capable leaders. The tribe prospered and flourished as it had all those centuries ago. It was the twelfth such tribe that had existed–but Kal’Ragek believed this one would last a long time.

The legend of the disappearance would lead the occasional group to go out and search for evidence of what had happened to the men working on the excavation. Generally, these attempts were short lived. The military would generally see them coming, and detain the searchers for a few days, long enough to discourage them from continuing their pursuit, but on occasion, some particularly dedicated parties would delve deeper–through the thick woods where the drag marks had stopped, to the mountainous foothills beyond. It was an inhospitable place, generally, but it took hard times to make the greatest tribes.

The search parties might catch the occasional scent on the wind. Something none of them had ever smelled before. At night, there would be the occasional green glow behind the lower foothills, and the men would find themselves drawn deeper into the mountains, while the women, unnerved, would flee. By the time they found the tribe, Kal’Ragek would have been in their minds for days, softening and preparing them. Below, in the middle of the tribal camp, would be the idols, and the orcs would gather to accept the newest members of the tribe as they came down into the valley and bowed to their new lord, presenting their holes for their new brothers.

Of course, a few dodged that fate and managed to make it back to their civilizations. No one believed them, of course. Their dreams were haunted all the same–filled with the green of the idol, that distant voice they could barely hear, and a deep, bone shaking sense of regret. They all returned, eventually, and were taken in as equals. Kal’Ragek always forgives, after all, unless you are an enemy, but why be an enemy when you can join the tribe?