Battleborne Book 2: Wrack and Ruin

by Dave Willmarth

  Inside the mine, dwarves formed a shield wall four feet back from the gate. A few orc spears were launched toward the gate, but most clanged off the metal and fell to the ground. Those few that made it through the openings in the door simply struck shields, doing no damage. Dwarven crossbows picked off any orcs who dared to get within ten feet of the gate.

  Two healers assisted wounded dwarves and orcs alike in a staging area set up in a side room off the main shaft. Food and water were passed around to the defenders, who hunkered down and prepared themselves for a long fight.

  The two forces were at a stalemate. Inside the mine, the sergeant chuckled. They had food, water, and ammunition enough to keep the orcs at bay for a week. And reinforcements were surely on the way.

  Outside, Iz’tag strode through the now open main gate, snarling in fury. His surprise had perhaps been too effective. He’d wanted to wound a large number of dwarves, weakening the defending force. Instead he’d frightened them into retreating into the mine, making for a much tougher nut to crack. Frustrated and angry, he kicked the helmed head of a dwarf that had been crushed by a falling boulder. Time was not on his side.

  *****

  Though Dylan pushed the boars as much as he safely could, the wagon remained slow. By the time they reached the way station where Max had left the orc family in charge, the farmer reported that the mounted dwarven troops had passed through four hours earlier.

  Max thanked the orc, taking a moment to check on him and his family as Smitty and Dylan unhitched the boars and traded them for a pair of ja’kang. The carnivorous horse beasts were not as hardy as the boars, but the boars were exhausted. And the horses could manage the wagon for the short trip from the way station to the mine, despite their extreme objections to being harnessed. They resisted mightily until Dalia used her druid magic to calm them enough to accept the harnesses.

  There was a brief delay when one of the mounts nipped at Dylan’s arm. He reacted by shouting, “Ow! Stupid horse!” and punched it in the head. The blow from the massive ogre fist knocked the creature senseless, requiring them to bring in and hook up a replacement.

  Max told the farmer that another force was behind them on foot, and asked that he be prepared with water for the troops, and food if possible. Even if it was just bread. He gave the orc a small sack of gold coins for his trouble, asked him to send scouts to search for any additional approaching orc forces, and they were off.

  The group and their wagon covered the five miles to the mine in half an hour. As they drew close to the last bend in the trail before reaching the mine, a dozen dwarves mounted on battle boars emerged from the brush on either side of the road. One took up position directly in front of the wagon and raised an empty hand to signal them to stop.

  “Greetings, King Max. I be Captain Skullsmasher.” The dwarf bowed slightly atop his mount, which snorted as if in greeting.

  “Greetings, Captain Skullsmasher. How are things at the mine? Is the battle already over?”

  The dwarf shook his head. “Nay, there still be plenty o’ fightin to do. Our people could no’ hold the walls, and have retreated into the mine. They be safe enough in there fer now, but there be two hundred or so orcs inside the palisade. We got em surrounded.”

  A shout from above caused Max and everyone else to look up. High above them Max spotted a group of orcs with their backs to him, fighting. The captain chuckled. “Ah, good. The orc commander thought to get sneaky. Sent some o’ his own up around the back o’ the hill and onto the clifftop, where they tossed big rocks down on our people. Soon as we saw what they’d done, I sent a hunnert o’ me riders up after em. I expect they’ll be… yep. There ya go!” He hooted with glee as several of the orcs were pushed over the edge to fall three hundred feet atop their fellow orcs below. A moment later, a dozen more went over, screaming as they fell.

  The fighting continued as the group below watched, fascinated. A few more orcs fell over the edge, while more died where they stood atop the cliff. Within two minutes, a line of mounted dwarves appeared at the edge, waving a banner.

  “That be the all-clear. I hope them ones that took the fall landed on a few more down here!” the captain seemed downright jovial. There were few things dwarves loved more than battle. Especially a battle they were winning.

  “Have you tried speaking with them yet?” Max asked.

  “Aye, I shouted a bit at their commander. Told him me friend Orby Steelballs be inside o’ that mine. He owes me fifty gold after our last game o’ dice. I kindly warned the orc that if he kills old Steelballs before I get me money, I’ll be very angry.” The dwarf’s grin was wide as his fellows chuckled.

  Max shook his head. “How about you take me to talk to him? Maybe I can get them to surrender. I know you’d love nothing more than to kill every orc in there, but I’d rather not lose any dwarven lives in the process.”

  “Aye, o’ course ye can try. I’d not sacrifice any o’ me lads if ye can prevent it.” The captain bowed his head slightly, then turned his mount. “Follow me.”

  Dylan guided the wagon behind the mounted dwarves as they rounded the bend in the trail and moved through the last of the trees toward the palisade. Looking left and right, Max saw mounted dwarves waiting just inside the shade of the trees.

  Abandoning the wagon, Max and company strode forward on foot. Dylan walked next to Max, both of them carrying tall shields. Behind them, Smitty and Dalia were joined by the captain, who chuckled. “Walkin behind these big fellas makes me feel like a wee lad again.”

  Dalia snorted. “They’re not very smart, but good fer stoppin’ arrows and spells.”

  Max ignored the jibe from his friend, focusing on the large orc with red stripes painted across his face that stood atop the wall near the gate. About halfway across the kill zone, he called a halt, then shouted up at the orc commander.

  “Hello there. I’m Max, King of Stormhaven, and that’s my mine behind you.” He raised a hand in a friendly wave. “I must have forgotten to put up a no trespassing sign when I was here before. My mistake.” Behind him Dalia groaned.

  “This mine is once again the property of War Chief An’zalor! Leave this place, toy king. Go back and huddle in your hole in the ground!”

  Max took a second to check his UI just to make sure, then called out. “Says here I still own it! My people are inside the mine, you and your people are still out here, just knocking on the door. You’re outnumbered, and I’m betting you don’t have much food or water.” He paused, looking for a reaction on the commander’s face. There wasn’t one, but the orc behind him with a longbow over his shoulder began to shift nervously.

  “You can’t win here.” Max continued. “All you can do is get your warriors killed. Surrender now, and I’ll let you all live.”

  “We do not surrender! Especially to a mixed breed fool who believes himself a king!”

  Max sighed. He was thinking about what to say next when several large rocks crashed to the ground behind the wall. There was a scream that ended abruptly as at least one orc fighter perished. The captain, who had leaned far to his left to peer past Dylan’s bulk, clapped his hands. “Me boys up top are gettin’ impatient.”

  Not thrilled with the tactic, especially while he was speaking with the enemy commander, Max asked “Can you get them to stop from here?”

  Nodding once, the captain whistled loudly, a shrill three-note signal, then waved up at the troops atop the cliff before making a cutting motion across his own neck. An answering whistle echoed down from above, and he winked at Max. “All done.”

  Turning back to the wall, Max tried a different tactic. Taking a deep breath, he shouted, “I’m sure many of you witnessed my companions and I fighting in the arena trials. And you also saw your War Chief behave without honor, trying to cheat at the trials, violating your sacred ritual. Why throw away your lives for a coward and tyrant without honor?”

  Atop the wall, the scout whispered in his commander’s ear. “We are doomed here. We have no hope of
capturing the mine now, let alone holding it. We are outnumbered and trapped. Even should we somehow escape and outrun those mounted dwarves all the way back to the city on foot, An’zalor would mount our heads on stakes for failing him.”

  Iz’tag’s body practically vibrated with rage. “You would surrender to this honorless dog?”

  The scout shook his head. “I watched him battle in the trials. He fought well, fought with honor. And he is speaking the truth when he says An’zalor defiled the trials with his treachery. If you were not there yourself, I know you have heard others speak of it. Despite the treachery, this Chimera King overcame the challenges and became an Arena Champion.”

  “NO!” Iz’tag shouted at the top of his lungs, as much to the scout as to Max. “We will fight and die as warriors should! And we will take many of you with us! I will eat your heart, toy king! Then deliver your head-”

  Iz’tag never finished that threat, as his own head slowly rolled forward, separating from his body to fall to the ground in front of the gate. A second later the scout shoved the body forward off the wall as well, watching it land near the head. He wiped the commander’s blood from his sword with a cloth before sliding it back into a scabbard on his back.

  “Chimera King! I am Ag’thorn, and I have just relieved Iz’tag of his command. You are correct, we can not win this battle. There is no honor in needless suicide. I would speak with you to discuss terms.” He turned as the sounds of battle rose up behind him. A few scattered orcs who were zealously loyal to their War Chief, or to Iz’tag, tried to battle their way to Ag’thorn. Smarter orcs, who had come to the same realization as the scout, quickly put them down.

  Outside the wall, Max guessed what was happening. Though he’d never dealt with serious insubordination during his time in his nation’s service, his later career as a private soldier had required him to deal with it more than once. He’d even had to put down an outright mutiny, during which a disgruntled subordinate tried to shoot him in the back. His response then had been just as fast, brutal, and final as the orcs’. “You are welcome to join me here, where it’s safe to talk.” He motioned for the others in his group to step back a bit, then sat on the stump of a felled tree.

  The gate opened a short time later, and the orc scout walked out alone. There were a few angry shouts from within the enclosure, but no more sounds of battle. When the orc drew close, Max got back to his feet. “Thank you for coming to speak with me.” He smiled at the orc, being sure to display all his fangs.

  “Thank you for the opportunity to choose life.” The orc nodded his head in respect.

  “I’m sure you are aware that Commander Gr’tok and a few hundred of your people have already joined me as citizens of Stormhaven. I have found them to be honorable, hard-working, and likeable people in the time we’ve spent together. Should you and your warriors be willing to swear an oath of allegiance, I would be proud to have two hundred more skilled and honorable warriors.”

  “And if we do not wish to join you?” Ag’thorn asked, his voice a deep growl of suspicion.

  “Then I would require each of you to swear an oath never to take up arms against me or mine, and allow you to walk away from here.” Max paused. “But from what I know of your War Chief, he will not welcome you back in defeat.”

  The orc nodded. “He has promised to mount our heads on stakes should we fail. There is no returning to the clan for us, that is true. But to live among dwarven dogs…” His voice faded as he surveyed the mounted force of dwarves in front of him.

  “Not just dwarves, Ag’thorn. Other orcs, kobolds, gnomes, trolls, ogres, and eventually all races, light or dark. Except grey dwarves, cuz screw those little bastards.” The orc chuckled at that. “Stormhaven will be a truly free city that welcomes any who are willing to live in cooperation with the other races. We will grow bigger, and stronger, and eventually I intend to take your city from An’zalor. You could have a hand in running it when that time comes.”

  Ag’thorn looked over his shoulder at the orcs lining the top of the palisade. “I am willing to join you. I saw you fight with honor, Chimera King. I believe that you believe what you say, though I wonder if you have the strength to accomplish your goal.”

  “Then add your strength to mine. We have a better chance to accomplish it together.” Max held out a hand.

  Ag’thorn shook his head, his hands remaining at his side. “I will speak with my warriors first. Some will wish to strike out on their own, I think, rather than join you.”

  Max retracted his hand. “I’ll give you an hour. If it helps, let them know they don’t have to continue to serve as warriors, or live underground. They can become farmers or crafters, or merchants. We are a new kingdom, and are in need of all of those people, and more.” He turned to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “Do you have wounded inside that need healing?”

  The orc shook his head. “None would accept it now. Should we become allies, that is another story. I will return in one hour.” He turned and strode back toward the gate.

  Max shook his head. “Honor and pride are both good things, but these guys take them a bit far.”

  *****

  Max spent the hour in the shade of the forest with his group and Skullsmasher. Max asked him to send mounted scouts out in a wide circle to help him map the area. He also asked that two riders be sent back to the way station to halt the reinforcements there. No point in having them march all the way to the mine for no reason. The troops he had here already could handle the orcs if they decided to fight. He was especially sure of this since Skullsmasher had informed him that it was standard practice for dwarven engineers to booby trap fortifications before abandoning them.

  “If I know old Steelballs, he’s set explosives or flammables near them walls, and has a fuse ready to light inside that mine with him. One lil spark, and any orcs who survive the blast won’t have the walls to hide behind.”

  The hour hadn’t quite passed when the gate opened again, and Ag’thorn walked out. A long stream of orcs followed behind. Max strode forward to meet him halfway even as the entire mounted dwarven force urged their boars out into the open, ready to charge should it be necessary.

  When they met in the middle of the open ground, Ag’thorn took a knee. The other orcs did the same. “We have decided to join you, Chimera King.”

  “All of you?” Smitty asked from just behind Max. When Ag’thorn nodded, Smitty added, “Right on, orc bros! Good call!”

  “We have one concern, Chimera King.” The scout added, still on one knee. “Many of us have families still in An’zalor’s city. If the time comes that we must fight him there…”

  Max understood. “I would not ask you to kill your own blood. I hope to take his city from him in personal combat, rather than a siege and large scale battle. But regardless, you and your warriors have my word. And should your families choose to join you and swear the same oath you’re about to, they would be welcome as well.”

  “Then we are ready.”

  “Right. The oath.” Max realized he didn’t have an oath ready for them. Smitty stepped forward and winked at him.

  “I got this, boss.” He took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. “Repeat after me…” he then proceeded to speak an oath that was partly a modified version of one they’d both taken as newly minted soldiers, and part some kind of geeky Dungeons & Dragons wizard’s binding or something. Max had to admit, the wording was simple and effective, and not too onerous on the warriors. They agreed to obey Max, to defend him, his nation, and its people, and to act with honor in all things. That last bit might become a problem at some point, but Max figured they could tweak it soon enough. As the orcs repeated the last words, Max saw the swirling lights and felt the binding between them take effect. At the same time, Max and all of his group leveled up, along with most of the allied Darkholm dwarves, and the folks inside the mine, though Max couldn’t see them to know.

  Quest Completed: Defend the Mine!

  Your citizens
and allied troops defeated the invading force.

  Two hundred and eight enemy troops were killed, and you personally

  secured the surrender of the remaining force.

  Reward: Experience – 250,000; Increased Reputation with Darkholm Dwarves.

  Bonus Reward! For convincing conquered enemy troops to

  surrender and join your cause: Experience – 150,000; Diplomacy +1

  The experience was enough to raise Max to level twenty, but he mentally waved away the rest of his notifications until he could find some place to be alone and speak with Red. He didn’t want her suddenly appearing here in front of everyone without explanation. “Welcome to Stormhaven!” He motioned for all of them to rise. “Our first order of business is to assist any wounded. And Captain, please go let our people know it’s safe to come out of the mine.”

  Skullsmasher immediately stomped toward the gate, the orcs making room for him as he shouted, “Steelballs! Where’s me fifty gold? Ye better no’ be dead!” Several of the orcs who’d heard the dwarf’s earlier threat to their now-deceased commander laughed as the dwarf passed. Max just shook his head.

  To Ag’thorn, Max said, “For now, you are promoted to the rank of Commander. I assume you have no trouble serving under Gr’tok?”

  “None at all.” The orc smiled. “But you assume I wish to remain in your army.”

  Max leaned back a bit. “You’re right, I did. I know a career soldier when I see one. But if you wish to retire, I’d ask that you lead these warriors until we get back to Stormhaven City. From there, you can become a…?” Max left the question in the air.

  “I will continue to serve as a soldier. Though I am no Commander. I’m a scout, and would remain so.”

  “Then you’ll be our Scout Commander.” Max grinned at him. “Never waste the skills of an experienced soldier.”