Stundroff knew he had to do something, but it was only then that he noticed the open doors at the entrance.
He gave the table a big push to gain some space, gathered his strength and jumped over the table and the Orcs, towards the pile of Bronium on the other side of the room.
Once there, he to searched the pile as quickly as he could, as the Orcs turned around and began to charge at him once again.
By the time the first Orc got there, Stundroff still had his back turned to them, so the Orc open his mouth wide and prepared to take a bite out of Stundroff. But at the last moment, the Dwarf turned and pushed him away.
The Orc fell backwards, pushing over some of the Orcs that followed him, then another Orc jumped over the fallen towards the seemingly cornered Dwarf. The Orc prepared to sink his teeth and claws in the Dwarf’s flesh, until his trajectory came to a brutal stop as his skull met with the piece of Bronium that Stundroff began to wield like a club.
The Orc’s skull was completely crushed by the impact and his body was sent flying to the other end of the room, painting anything beneath it red with blood. But the few blood-covered Orcs that remained close to the Dwarf were not discouraged by this in the slightest and continued charging Stundroff one by one to meet their demise at the end of the Bronium club.
But for every Orc the Dwarf killed, two more entered the room. And even when the Dwarf’s swings were strong enough to send several Orcs flying, little by little the Orcs where gaining on him.
He knew then that he would eventually yield to exhaustion, if this was to continue. And that closing those doors was his only chance of coming out on top.
With that idea in mind, Stundroff grabbed a second piece of Bronium which resembled a spike and, step by step, he began to make his way to the door, as he stabbed and clubbed every Orc that entered his line of sight.
Some Orcs managed to sneak behind the Dwarf and sink their claws in his back, but they soon met their deaths. It took several minutes for the Dwarf to make his way to the doors.
By then it was impossible to differentiate the blood of the Orcs from his own blood.
Stundroff slammed one of the doors shut, crushing every Orc in its path and blocking half of the entrance of the room.
Our hero then took the Bronium spike and buried it three inches deep into the hall’s iron floor, right next to the door, jamming it shut.
He then immediately held the other piece of Bronium with both hands and began to swing away, as he made his way to the other door making sure to kill every Orc that managed to enter the hall.
It took another minute and twenty more Orcs died in the process, but eventually Stundroff made it to the other door. He then held the Bronium club in one hand and the door with the other and, using what strength he had left, slammed the second door shut and, grabbing the club with both of his hands and slamming it against the floor, he managed to get both doors stuck, trapping himself inside with the Orcs that remained alive.
The giant iron doors trembled as the Orcs that remained outside slammed themselves against them, in a futile effort to open them, some of them going as far as to kill themselves. But there was nothing they could do to open those doors as long as the unbreakable Bronium remained jamming it shut.
Stundroff then turned around, shaking off the Orcs he had on top of him, and looked at the remaining Orcs that stood inside the room with him. He clenched his fists and prepared to battle with them, knowing that only they stood between him and the end of his mission.
The Dwarf stood still, as he waited for the Orcs to resume their attack, but for the first time the beasts did not charge immediately, for as mindless as they were, even they could recognize the might of the foe they were against.
This unexpected pause gave time for Stundroff’s wounds to begin healing and for his breathing to slow down. For as strong as the Dwarf was, even he found himself tired after fighting for an entire night.
Stundroff then noticed the first glimpse of sunlight entering a window at the top of the east wall, as dawn began to break.
And as the Dwarf raised his eyes to catch a better glimpse of the glory and beauty of that majestic dawn, a loud sound was heard, immediately followed by the sound of Stundroff’s skull bones cracking open.
The Dwarf’s eyes began to fill with blood, as the warm red liquid poured out of his head. He stumbled around, falling on his knees, completely disoriented from the blow; he then looked up and saw an Orc holding a piece of Bronium, covered in his blood.
“I am not sure how you managed to survive that fire, or how you managed to sneak into this place without any of my scouts finding you, but I promised to kill you and I intent to keep that promise, no matter how resilient you seem to be.”
Stundroff knew he was in the presence of Xandraf.
He was barely able to see, but he managed to stand up just as the Orc controlled prepared to give him the final blow. Xandraf was surprised by this, as in that moment he thought that there might be no limit to the Dwarf’s endurance.
He struck the Dwarf again, using the piece of Bronium as a weapon. But Stundroff stopped the attack, grabbing the Orc firmly by the wrist with one hand and then using his other hand, he slowly began to crush the Orcs skull. The Dwarf watched, as the pressure slowly popped the Orc’s eyes outside of its skull and blood began to pour out.
One of the remaining Orcs that stood in the room let out a scream, a rallying war cry for the others to attack.
The Dwarf was so lost in his anger that he lost control over his body and his actions, letting himself be driven only by his unending rage. And as the Orcs once again began to charge at him and his vision began to fade into a red that was thicker than his own blood, only one thought crossed Stundroff’s mind.
I must kill them all.
◆◆◆
The Dwarf has no recollection of what occurred over the following hours, but by the time he came back to his senses, the entire room was covered in Orc blood and guts. The blood had splashed high up the walls of the hall, and there were dismembered Orc body parts all around him, and pieces of Orc bone and brains covered everything in the room.
Most of the Dwarf’s wounds had healed by then, but now he was consumed by a tremendous hunger, as the fight had taken much of his energy.
And even after so many hours, the doors of the room continued to tremble with the bangs of the Orcs outside, as they tried to enter the room.
The Dwarf knew that he had to remain trapped inside that room until his task was completed, but he had to do something about his hunger if he wanted to regain his strength and powers.
I wonder how Orc meat actually tastes.
At first he struggled with the idea, but seeing that he had no other option. Our hero began to cook some of the Orc meat he found on the floor using the forge’s fire.
“I am sure that I am desecrating every Dwarf tradition by doing this, but I am so hungry that I am sure the old kings will forgive me,” Stundroff said to himself, as he roasted the Orc’s meat on the fires of the great forge.
To the Dwarf’s surprise, Orc meat tasted like chicken.
A few hours passed and the Dwarf had replenished his strength and calmed his hunger, as he had eaten over twenty pounds of Orc flesh.
Now calmed and with newfound strength, the Dwarf began to work on the sheath for the sword.
It took two days just to figure out how to work with the seemingly unbreakable metal and several more to actually complete the task, but the Dwarf worked day and night, only stopping to eat, until he’d finished.
He crafted a sheath for the sword using the exact measurements that the Merchant of Death gave him, but he made sure to make the exterior of the sheath sharp enough to be used as a blade.
Once it was done, he raised the sword’s sheath as high as he could and contemplated his work. The sheath was sharp and flat, with no distinctive runes or designs, since the Dwarf found them to be a waste of time in this particular situation, but the measurements where perfect.
<
br /> But before he could enjoy his work properly, he was interrupted by a voice.
“Remarkable, I am continuously surprised by you, not only by your strength and endurance, but now also by your ingenuity.”
Stundroff looked around for the source of the voice, as a burning anger began to fuel his very soul.
“Who said that? Show yourself!”
“So it is a Bronium blade that you plan to use to stop me. I don’t see how that could work, but I still find it fascinating that you are able to work with that metal.”
Stundroff walked towards the injured Orc that Xandraf was controlling; he placed his foot on top of the Orc’s skull and looked down.
“I hope you are done talking, because I am going to smash your skull now.”
“Go ahead; it is not like I don’t have any other Orcs in Nel Badhur. Besides, I now realize that the reason I can’t control you is the same reason you will be the end of your friends.”
“Yes, and what reason would that be?”
“In time you will see. But for now you may rest assured that no matter where you go or what you do, in the end I will burn everything you hold dear. And once I am done making you suffer, only then will I kill you.”
Stundroff knew that he needed every piece of information he could get from Xandraf, but without even thinking about it, he let his rage take control and squashed the Orc’s head with his foot.
Once that was done, our hero faced another choice. He could jump out the window and leave the stronghold to reunite with his friends, or he could reopen the door and use his renewed strength to make sure that Xandraf couldn’t use the Orcs in Nel Badhur as a part of his army.
Stundroff knew that he had wasted enough time and that bringing the sword sheath to his friends would probably be the smartest choice, yet he felt an uncontrollable urge to kill every last Orc in that place. So letting himself get lost in the anger, he opened one of the doors.
“You want to kill me, take your best shot!” he yelled from the top of his lungs.
Using the narrow space the single open door provided to control their numbers and having his full strength back, Stundroff put the sharp edge of the Bronium sword sheath to the test, as he hacked and slashed every Orc that dared set foot through the door.
It took hours for Stundroff to kill them all and, by then, the pile of corpses was so high that the Orcs had trouble just to get to him, but at last it was done.
Knowing that he had diminished Xandraf’s potential numbers, he managed to calm down just enough to remember his mission and the promise that he’d made to Maria and her brothers.
So this time using the front door, Stundroff left the iron fortress completely covered in Orc blood, but feeling proud that he had single-handedly reclaimed the home of his ancestors.
Night was about to fall and the Dwarf was not sure how to reach the northlands using the stars, so he decided to make good on his promise and return to the farm and look for Maria.
Now feeling more comfortable about having reduced the Orc presence in the area, the Dwarf did not waste time walking back to the farm and instead, using his strong legs, he leaped his way there in a matter of a few minutes.
But as he approached the farm a sense of concern filled his mind, as he could see a great amount of smoke coming from that direction.
The Dwarf took haste in order to get there, but it made no difference in the end. For once he landed at the farm, he found nothing but the smoking remains of the cabin on a scorched piece of land.
“Maria! Where are you?” Stundroff desperately ran towards the cabin’s remains.
The Dwarf lifted the still burning logs and searched through the ashes hoping that he would not find the children there, hoping that somehow they had managed to escape the cabin before the attack.
Tears fell as he continued to dig through the ash. An uncontrollable sadness then flooded the Dwarf’s mind, as he began to question if he could have saved them if he hadn’t wasted so much time fighting, or even if he should had taken them to safety before ever reaching Nel Badhur.
But all of those feelings where nothing compared to what he felt when he saw what it seemed to be small hand coming out of the ashes a few feet away from him.
The Dwarf rushed there as fast as his legs could take him, hoping there was a chance they could still be alive. But as soon as he got close enough, he lost all hope, as he realized that it was in fact the hand of one of the children. Yet very little of it remained, as the fire had eaten most of the skin and flesh from its bones.
Stundroff began to cry uncontrollably, as he kept digging through the ash in search of what remained of the children, yet still holding a bit of hope in his heart that somehow the other two had managed to escape the flames.
But this was not the case, for by the time Stundroff finished digging, he realized that the hand that stood out of the ashes was in fact Maria’s and she was still being embraced by her two brothers, who had died trying to shield her from the flames.
Stundroff fell on his knees and cried uncontrollably as he embraced the scorched bodies of the three children he had failed to save, blaming himself for this tragedy.
The Dwarf was filled with rage all the way down to the marrow of his bones, but at the same time he felt a sadness more profound that anything he had ever experienced.
He spent the entire night without moving, holding the corpses of the children, crying and blaming himself for this tragedy, but as the night ended and he reached the break of dawn, he realized something.
This was not his fault. Xandraf had committed this atrocity, and it was Xandraf who would have to pay for this.
Because it was in that moment that Stundroff realized the importance of the quest he and his friends were doing, as there was no peace to be had, as long as this monster continued to breathe.
So the Dwarf stood up and wiped his tears away, marking his face with the ashes from the children’s corpses as they mixed with his tears.
Now making sure that the sun was on his right hand, Stundroff grabbed the Bronium sword sheath and began his journey to reunite with his friends.
Stundroff traveled north for days, watching in horror how the landscape of the world had begun to change in just a few days, as many of the patches of green land and villages had been replaced by nothing more than patches of scorched earth.
But as sad and angry as seeing that made him, he knew that if this world was to survive, he could not waste any time.
After a few days our hero began to get tired and hungry. Fortunately for him, he recognized a familiar place in the distance, a castle surrounded by a great lake, where he and his friends once fought the dreaded Fire Orcs.
And to his surprise, the castle seemed to be one of the only places that still stood unharmed by the flames. So wasting no time, the Dwarf made his way to Water Siege Castle.
Once there, he knocked on the door. The response was so fast, it caught the Dwarf by surprise. Count Barosh answered the door himself.
The count immediately let Stundroff inside the castle and showed him the troops he had been preparing.
“What is this army for?” Stundroff asked.
“What do you mean by that? This is the best we could do with such little notice.”
“What do you mean by that? I did not ask for any of this.”
“But we received a messenger from Logrant city; he carried a letter that had the royal emblem on it. And it said that we need to send any force we could spare to help defend the capital from the Orc’s attack. So I assumed that your friend, Prince Arius, had sent it.”
“Well, I have not seen Arius in over a week. But the last time we spoke, he was headed for the northlands in search for a weapon that could bring an end to the Fire Orcs.”
“But if he is in the north lands and his father is sick in bed, then who sent this letter?” Barosh asked.
“I do not know, but I am sure Arius wouldn’t abandon his quest that easily.”
“And if he is in the
north lands, then what are you doing here?”
“I have been on another quest; I am to reunite with my friends in the north lands, but I am in need of food and rest, for I have traveled a long distance without stopping,” Stundroff replied.
“Rest we can give you, but when it comes to food, there is only so much we can spare. The Fire Orcs have cut every trading route we had and we have very low reserves, which our troops are going to need when they head for battle. Besides I have seen you eat before, my friend.”
“Whatever you can spare will be enough for me; I will stay the night and resume my journey in the morning.”
“I will not argue with you, especially after seeing what you can do. But I will say that I think it would be for the best if you joined us in our march towards Logrant city. We could use a Dwarf of your talents by our side.”
And just as the count finished saying those words, one of the scouts in the watch towers on the north side of the castle gave the alarm.
Stundroff and Barosh rushed to the top of the wall, fearing a fire Orc invasion, but once they reached the scout tower, they were informed that the scout had seen a single humanoid shape by the lake’s north shore.
“Who do you think it is?” Stundroff asked the count.
“If he is alone at this hour it has to be an Orc, probably one of those Fire Orcs.”
“Well, I guess there is only one way to know for sure.” Stundroff jumped from the top of the wall and landed at the shore of the lake just a few feet away from their target. But to the Dwarf’s surprise it was not an Orc, although the confusion would have been understandable. It was a man, but he was just as big as an Orc and his body was covered in scars and war paint. This man wore thick and furry animal skins and a light leather armor that had seen many battles, and something in the way he looked at Stundroff implied that he was not completely friendly.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Stundroff asked.
“My name is Khall of the north lands and I am here on behalf of the Outsider king to bring a message.”
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