by King, DB
Already he felt as if he wore a leaden weight. But he had no choice other than to let it strengthen him. He had to be ready for whatever was to come.
“Rest, the two of you,” Logan said. “I’ll give the command when we’re ready to move out.”
With that, he stepped away from Marseille and Arachne and joined Runa and Raymond. The rest of the soldiers were putting camp together, passing out provisions for a meal before they went on.
“Well,” Raymond asked as he put his hands on his hips and turned his gaze eastward, “that’s one part of the journey down.”
“Many more to go, however,” Runa said. “And…” she trailed off, shaking her head.
“What is it?” Logan asked.
“The journey has been safe so far—too safe, if you ask me. We’ve trekked for days and haven’t so much as encountered remnants of an orcish presence. With what we’ve been through with the caravan, you’d think this journey would’ve been a bit more dangerous.”
“I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Raymond said. “Or a gift orc, in this case. The orcish armies have been scattered for centuries. Stands to reason that there would be parts of the realms of man free of them.”
“True,” Runa said. “But all the same, I believe we should keep our ears to the ground.”
“The orcs,” Raymond said. “They’re like summer storms. Sometimes you don’t see a day without rain for weeks, other times you have nothing but sun. It could be possible that we might make it to the Dragoneye Mountains without encountering any major resistance.”
“I’m not going to count on that,” Logan said. “We’re going to stay vigilant until we reach Tyan.”
“A good plan,” Runa said. “The last thing we want is to be caught unawares.”
Logan turned westward, trying to see through the trees ahead.
“I want to scout ahead,” he said. “See what’s there in the canyon.”
“I can tell you that,” Raymond said. “You make your way through the woods and you’ll encounter the Hill River cutting through the Canyon.”
“I wish to see it for myself,” Logan said.
“You need rest, Logan,” Runa said.
“Or, at the very least,” Raymond added, “a few good men to go with you.”
Logan glanced over at the soldiers. They were gathered around a pair of small fires, cooking some meat they’d gathered during their trip through the Deadclay Hills.
“No,” Logan said. “Let’s let them rest.”
“If you’re dead-set on scouting,” Runa said, “then I’m going with you.”
“There are worse ideas than to gain a lay of the land,” Raymond said.
“Raymond, stay with the camp,” Runa said. “Logan and I will travel to the edge of the canyon then report back.”
“Very well. Stay safe.” With a nod, the guard captain turned and made his way back to the camp.
“You’re sure about this, Logan?” Runa asked.
“Of course. I won’t want any surprises during this trek. I owe your kingdom, and I intend to repay.”
She smiled slightly, pleased with his answer. They refilled their waterskins and quickly ate a few pieces of jerky before starting on their way through the forests atop the Bloodrock Canyon.
“I can’t wait for you to see Tyan,” Runa said as they entered the forest. “It is a beautiful place. Truly a sight to behold. Although it isn’t as glorious as it once was.”
“Much like the rest of the elven kingdoms, from what I’ve heard.”
She pursed her lips and nodded, accepting the truth of what he’d said.
“You’re right. Decline took hold centuries ago. Gods, what I would give to see them when you first walked the world. Tell me, what did you know of the elven kingdoms back then?”
“Fiercest warriors, most beautiful women, and cities of spires that stretched up to the sky. But I never once saw them.”
“Then at least you know of their former glory. Perhaps one day they will rise again. But the orcish invasion… it took its toll. The Shadespear Invasion broke something in the kingdoms, something that was never repaired.”
Before Logan had a chance to come up with something to say in response, he smelled something on the wind.
“Meat,” Logan said. “Cooking meat. And a lot of it.”
“That can’t be from our camp, can it?” she asked.
Logan shook his head. “The wind is blowing in from the east. Whatever’s the source of the smell, it’s up ahead.”
“Then we should double-time.”
“Agreed.”
They picked up the pace, the smell of meat growing more and more with each step they took and until the air was thick with scents that reminded Logan of some unholy combination of a feast and an abattoir. Logan and Runa weaved through the trees. And as they did, music—drums, heavy, with faint chanting accompanying it—joined the scent of food.
Something was up ahead. Something massive.
Logan and Runa continued running through the woods, both eager to see what was in the depths of the canyon. The burning scents grew. They were close enough to smell the sickening sweetness of the cooking meat and hear the drumbeats growing more fanatical and chaotic.
The end of the forest was up ahead. Through it, Logan could see the other side of the canyon and the trees that grew on top of it.
But when he stepped out of the forest and stopped at the canyon edge, the view sweeping over the curving body of the Hill River, what he saw was enough to make his blood run cold.
“Gods,” Runa said. “It’s… It’s an army.”
“No,” Logan said. “It’s a horde.”
Down in the valley were hundreds upon hundreds of tents, fires dotted among them here and there, plumes of gray smoke rising into the clear air above. There were thousands of orcs below, eating and drinking and training, fighting among themselves. The encampment stretched on as far as the eye could see, disappearing around the curve of the canyon and the river within it.
“How could this be?” Runa asked. “The orcs haven’t been able to mass into a horde of this size for centuries—not since the Shadespear Invasion. The tribal leaders were too busy fighting among themselves to form anything larger than raiding parties.”
“Then it would appear that someone, or something, is leading them.”
Logan turned to Runa. “Stay here. I’m going to take a closer look.”
“What? Logan, you can’t just go down there and—”
“Spider stealth, remember?” Logan said with a slight smile. “They won’t even know I’m there.”
She pursed her lips together, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly.
“Be safe. I’ll wait here.”
He nodded, letting go of her hand and turning back toward the canyon. He let the spider spines extend from his fingers and palms, then eased himself down onto the canyon wall. His muscles still ached from the trip up, but Arachne’s power was of great assistance in helping him back down.
Logan stayed near the shadows of the outcroppings, making sure to not draw attention to himself as he went down, down to the floor of the canyon. When he finally dropped onto the ground, he looked around to see that the orc presence was even more overwhelming than what it seemed from above. Growls and howls and laughs filled the air—the sounds of a horde in fighting form.
He moved silently, sticking to the outskirts of the encampment. He spotted squadrons of orcs being drilled by commanders—behavior not common to orcs unless they had strong leadership from above.
Something was different about these orcs, beyond their numbers. They were a true army—like the one that had ravaged the realms of man and killed Logan’s people all those years ago.
Logan saw a large tent ahead, the fabric blood red and covered in orcish designs. He knew it was dangerous to approach, but if he could find their leaders, he could gain a sense of what sort of danger they had on the horizon.
Staying in the shadows, moving wi
th the speed and silence that Arachne’s powers afforded, he hurried to the tent. Once there, he lowered himself to the ground and lifted a flap enough to see inside.
Within was a small group of orcs, tall and covered in armor and tattoos.
And not just any tattoos—the markings of the Archspirits.
They were orcish shamans, magic wielders who could command armies with the powers of the War Wizards. The group grunted and communicated in their piggish orc language, standing around a map of the east as they planned strategy.
It was an army of conquest, an army that hadn’t been seen since Logan walked the earth.
And this time, there were no western kingdoms to stop them. And the elven kingdoms to the east were in disarray, shadows of their former selves.
Logan hurried away from the tent, backtracking until he was at the foot of the canyon wall. He climbed back up, hurrying until he was at the edge. Runa grabbed his hands and pulled him up.
“What did you see?” she asked, worry in her eyes.
“The orcish horde has returned,” Logan said, turning and facing the endless army stretched out before him. “And this time, they’ve come to finish what they started.”
End of Book 1
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About the Author
DB King’s stories feature competent main characters, magic and skill progression, and nothing too dark. While he doesn’t shy away from violence, he mostly avoids cursing and doesn’t have any adult scenes. When he writes a character, he’s always interested in “what would I do in this situation?” and not forcing them to be dumb and/or ignorant just for the sake of the plot. Most of his stories aren't strictly Gamelit/LitRPG, but a lot of his magic and progression systems often feel like something you might find in a video game.