The Beginning: Breath of War

by R. Malak

“Always be cautious, even when you think it’s safe.”

  He pictured his father crouching down beside him, his face creased with wrinkles, and wise grey eyes gazing down at him. Sighing, he continued to wait, and after lingering for a whole hour glass, he decided at last it was safe to move. Leg’s stiff and aching, he stood up to leave, when movement erupted opposite him.

  A small creature wrapped head to toe in a brown blanket waddled into the clearing, and gazed around itself nervously, before trudging towards the trail Talmen had been following. The tiny creature bent over the tracks sniffing, when without warning it looked up and stared in his direction. Could it see his tracks too? He had been careful, making sure to avoid leaving any visible marks. His instincts told him to run, but his feet wouldn’t move. Something held him in place. Whether it was fear, anger or simply loneliness, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that there was something very strange about this creature; its movements were too jittery and awkward to be human. At the same time, he sensed vulnerability within the creature, which was strange for a carnivorous hunter.

  His breathing quickened as the creature waddled towards him, and his mind raced with thoughts of what to do. If he ran back into the forest, it could mean bumping into more goblins and Orcs. Running out across the open plain was equally dangerous, especially with no places to take shelter at night. His gaze drifted to the spear in his hand. Even if this was one of the lesser creatures that had invaded the world, it could still be dangerous, even if it did appear harmless. Maybe if he caught it by surprise… The creature slowly drew closer and closer. He could make out pieces of dirt and muck clinging to the filthy blanket it clutched to its tiny body. His hands tightened on the shaft of the spear as he prepared to strike.

  A hand’s breadth away from the thicket, he leapt out of the undergrowth, spear point driving forward in a jab at the creature’s chest. The creature screeched out in alarm, dropping the blanket as it dove for the ground to avoid his blow. Unable to halt his momentum, Talmen grunted in pain as he slammed into the earth and rolled back up onto his feet. He immediately swung around to go back on the attack, and froze in shock. Lying on the ground was an oddly shaped short stout creature with slate grey skin and bloodshot red eyes, wearing a worn out brown toga wrapped around one shoulder.

  The creature slowly rose to its feet mumbling what sounded like curse words under its breath, glaring up at him with its large red eyes at a poleaxed Talmen. What the hell was this thing? For the most part it looked a bit like a worn-out teddy bear that had been badly ravaged by time.

  He slowly lowered his spear, while the creature watched, then raised his left hand in greeting. The creature stared at him in surprise for a moment before grinning to reveal razor-sharp fangs, leaping into the air in a single quick bound to bite him on the shoulder. Talmen roared at the white-hot pain coursing through his shoulder. Quickly grabbing hold of the creature by the neck, he tried to rip it off him, but it refused to budge, instead clamping down harder. Desperate, he stabbed the spear up into the creature’s chest and twisted the spearhead in its guts. The creatures red eyes dimmed, as it slowly released its grip on his shoulder and fell away to plop onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Tears trickling from behind closed eyes, Talmen dropped to his knees as warm blood spilled down his shoulder, soaking the left side of his shirt. Feeling lightheaded, he clenched his teeth and carefully began removing his bone armor. He then ripped the bottom half of his shirt and wrapped it around his shoulder to staunch the bleeding. Dizzy, he fell to the earth, his cheek smacking hard against the stony surface, face planted firmly in the ground. He took one last deep breath before blacking out.

  TWO

  “Mom, Mom, why aren’t you picking up? Something bad is happening; George’s dad says we need to hide in the basement until it’s over….Mom I’m sooo scared”…*sobbing*”

  “Sorry, the person you are calling right now is unavailable, please call back later or leave a ten second message after the beep……beeeep”

  …..Five minutes later…..

  “Mom, please, please call back, I don’t know what to do. I saw George’s Dad go outside with a shotgun and now George won’t stop crying.”

  “Sorry, the person you are calling right now is unavailable, please call back later or leave a ten second message after the beep……beeeep”

  …..Five minutes later…..

  “Mom, I think something bad has happened to George’s dad, he hasn’t come back. I think—Bang! Bang! Bang!”

  Phone line goes dead.

  ~ * ~

  Location: The Spire, Year 2061

  The sun was beginning to sink beneath the pale white clouds, which thinned and began to disappear. The sound of birds singing died away, leaving behind a dull, lifeless silence. A human settlement sprawled below lay in a slight dip in the valley. Tiny lights flickered to life in the small makeshift shacks surrounding a massive tower, similar to a lighthouse at the center of the settlement. The wind blew the scent of human waste to tickle the nostrils of Grul Han, greatest and smartest warrior of the axe caste. Familiar with the human scent, he grinned happily, drool dripping from his lips. Licking his lips, he gripped his newly sharpened war axe, eager for a feast. He hadn’t seen such a large group of humans gathered together since the beginning. This could be the fight he and his kin had been searching for their whole lives. His hunger for glory and fresh meat was mirrored in the faces of his brothers and sisters around him, who grinned and slapped each other on the shoulders delighted at their good fortune. Motioning for his warriors to be quiet, the hulking Orc warriors made their way slowly towards the town, careful to make no noise.

  ~ * ~

  Shrouded in the undergrowth, Lighting Squad, an elite unit of hunters and warriors lay hidden, watching the large band of Orcs in heavy black-plated armor march their way across the worn-out road towards their main base. After alerting the tower that Orcs were in the vicinity, Qazin, leader of the six-man squad, waved his hand down, ordering his men to crouch and ready themselves for battle. Sergeant Hicks his second-in-command, a solid fighter with years of battle experience, immediately relayed his signal to the men waiting beside him on the opposite side of the road.

  Fighters dropped to their knees, M16 rifles were raised to cheeks, and fingers lightly caressed triggers. He raised his hand to signal his men to advance forward, when a scream rang out from the south. Qazin immediately touched his eyes and ears, a sign for his men to wait, watch, and listen. He then cursed his luck. This is just what he needed, some damn roamer blundering into his battle plans.

  The Orcs must have heard the scream too, because they too halted their march towards the human encampment. The leader of the Orcs, a huge grey skinned beast with two short tusks protruding from its mouth, called out something in Orcish, which Qazin assumed were orders for the band of Orcs turned away from the encampment and headed in the direction of the scream. With the Orcs no longer moving into the trap, he was now faced with a difficult decision. Order a tactical retreat or chase after the Orcs and hope to catch them by surprise. Both options were equally dangerous. All eyes were on him.

  After a moment, he waved his hand in a circular motion, indicating that his men re-group. Hicks gave him a worried look, before repeating the motion. He waited a few minutes to make sure the coast was clear, before leading his half of the squadron across the road to join Qazin in the nearby Roseberry bush.

  Hicks crouched down beside him, arm casually resting on his rifle, grey steely eyes constantly shifting back and forth. “What’s the plan, Chief?”

  Qazin rubbed his eyes wearily before replying, “The green bastards know the location of our main camp, we don’t have much choice, we have to hunt them down or risk compromising security back home.”

  Hicks grimaced at the grim assessment scratching his earlobe. “It’s a large group, Chief. I counted out at least thirty of them; we could lose a few lads in a fair firefight.”

  Qazin smirked, “Who said anyth
ing about a fair fight? We’re going to use the roamer as bait, and light up the filthy green bastards!” The men grinned, eyes lighting up at the prospect of some action, as Qazin swept his arm forward. “Let’s roll out, can’t let them have too much of a lead.”

  Hicks reluctantly nodded his head agreement and waved for his men to fall into single file.

  Lighting squad was soon, ghosting its way forward with Cora at the head of the column, followed by Qazin and the rest of the squad. As a former ranger, she had plenty of experience with avoiding danger and moving undetected through the forest. Qazin had often wondered why she had chosen to join his unit. Seeing as rangers were to his understanding notorious loners, who preferred the silence. But in any case, she was turning out to be an extremely useful asset to his team. She kept the squadron moving along the edges of the main road, avoiding and circling around obstacles. The men cast nervous glances at the sky as it slowly grew darker with each passing minute. These men had very few fears being veteran fighters, but even they knew the forest at night was no place for humans. However there was no time to question his decision; they had to deal with the threat quickly, before heading back to their base.

  Cora led the squad for at least two clicks before holding up a closed fist to halt the column. She faced Qazin and touched her gun, indicating enemy contact. This was it. He motioned for his men to fan out and get into cover. The experienced warriors spread out to either side of him with smooth easy movements, their guns leveled and ready. He waited a few seconds, before tapping Cora on the shoulder to lead them forward. She nodded and cautiously made her way past a thick bushy thicket towards the open flat plains. The Orcs, growling and swinging their war axes, were huddled up around something on the ground. He had to assume it was his bait. He couldn’t waste any more time.

  “Open fire!”

  Bullets whipped out of the forest to pluck and tear into the Orcs, who cried out in anger. Three dropped to the forest floor in the first few seconds of contact, with the rest turning and charging at the squadron. Axes raised, they howled their fury and hunger for blood. A few of them tearing off their armor in the heat of the berserker rage that consumed them, white froth spilling out from their mouths, and rivulets of blood dripping down from eyes that gradually became red.

  Sweating heavily, Qazin adjusted his aim to fire at the blood enraged berserkers, his men quickly following suit. Berserkers by far the hardest creatures to take down in battle were always targeted at the onset of any engagement. Oblivious to pain, these creatures could wipe out entire units with their incredible strength, speed, and ability to regenerate. Fortunate for them though, this pack only held three Orc Berserkers, which were swiftly dispatched with precision shots to the legs to slow them down and headshots.

  The remaining twenty four Orc warriors continued to close in rapidly, ignoring the chaos and gunfire around them. The giant Orc leader it’s eyes blazing with a hunger and fury for vengeance, pushing its way to front of the pack.

  Veterans of many engagements, lighting squad calmly pulled away from the advancing Orcs and broke off into pairs. One squaddie firing his rifle into the blood frenzied Orcs while the other re-loaded his rifle. Their bullets dropping Orc after Orc to the ground with well-placed rounds that punched into their shoulders and faces.

  The leader of the Orcs snarling over his losses growled something in its harsh Orcish dialect and the band of Orcs spread out to either side of the lumbering giant. Their flame colored eyes focusing on their prey, their massive obsidian war axes swinging at their sides, and their plate armored feet pounding into the earth like a drum.

  The sun above shone one last burst of sunlight to lighten the darkening sky, before sinking below the horizon.

  ~ * ~

  Gralin a scrawny young man with a wispy mustache and violet-colored eyes could not believe the amount of action he was seeing on his first patrol out with lighting squad. Having only recently been selected to join the elite unit, he had hoped they would show him the ropes first. Instead here he was battling a band of Orcs in the dead of night. Anxious to be home, and to be done, he searched for the commander and found him squatting down beside a gnarly old tree in the long green grass at the edge of the forest, waiting patiently.

  Curious to find out what the commander was planning, he squatted down beside him. “Sir, why aren’t we falling back with the rest of the squad?”

  Qazin gave a wry smile his black eyes not moving from the approaching Orcs, before speaking slowly, “Lesson one private, never waste your bullets on enemies with thick armor, and lesson two.” He gave a broad smile, his dark eyes lighting up with excitement. “You should always surprise the enemy.”

  Gralin scratched his head at the commander’s strange words, and wondered if the rumors about the commander being a little bit crazy were true. The commander, as if reading his thoughts, chuckled and returned his attention back towards the Orcs.

  ~ * ~

  Stars began to sparkle into life as clouds disappeared to reveal the pale-faced moon. Senses on edge, Hicks stared down the barrel of his rifle with cold blue eyes, intent upon killing as many Orcs as he could. As he fired round after round into the enemy, a part of him wished that the commander had requested additional units to provide support. It was only as he was firing his rifle that he realized how useless that would have been, out here in the dead of night, where was no guarantee any of them would survive, so why risk more lives than necessary?

  Images of his beautiful wife and daughter flickered through his mind as he discharged his weapon again and again into the bloodthirsty Orcs, who took each hit in their stride, and kept coming. The way things were going Hick’s feared he would soon run out of bullets long before he would run out of targets to fire upon. A reasonable concern, seeing as the squad had only brought four magazines with them with thirty rounds in each cartridge. A small fraction of what would be needed here to break these Orcs, who seemed determined to fight to the bitter end.

  Glancing back over his shoulder, Hick’s saw Cora carefully uncoiling a spool of wire, her face tight with concentration.

  “You done, yet?” grunted Hick’s as he fired another round into the torso of a huge burly Orc barreling its way towards him, its flame-colored eyes intent upon him.

  “Almost, Sarg…

  “Okay, all done.”

  Wasting no time, Hick’s slung his rifle on his shoulder and took off running towards her. Then together they ran back towards the road to regroup.

  ~ * ~

  Mouth dry, Gralin raised his rifle to his cheek, feeling the cold hard piece of metal. The Orcs much closer now, gazed at him with deranged faces filled with hate and bloodlust. Palms sweaty, he hurriedly wiped his hands on his military fatigues. The Orcs nearing his position sped up, until he could hear their harsh breathing and feel the ground pulsing beneath him. He turned his head to look at Qazin, hoping it was time to fire and retreat, but Qazin merely smiled and mouthed the word ‘wait.’ Confused and worried, he tried to relax and take deep calming breaths to settle his nerves.

  The Orcs two clicks out from their position now, their eyes aflame with yearning, axes held ready to strike, when a loud explosion rocked the ground beneath him like an incoming avalanche. Ears ringing from the explosion, he turned his head and saw a wide patch of blackened earth with the remains of at least four Orcs blown to oblivion.

  The commander with great agility for his age leapt to his feet and advanced forward, rifle blazing into the dazed Orcs who stood there stunned by the explosion.

  Gralin heart in his throat, not wishing to be left behind rushed after the commander, when he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his side. He looked down and saw a spearhead jutting out from his stomach. Stunned he touched the spearhead coated in his blood and collapsed to the ground. He felt a biting cold, then nothing…

  ~ * ~

  Qazin, unaware of Gralin’s disappearance, was busy dealing with a pair of Orcs in blood-splattered armor who appeared to his left. Using reflexes hone
d by hours of training, he swiftly lined up his first shot and fired blowing out the creature’s brains splattering the ground with pieces of grey matter. The second Orc a big lumbering beast with wide brawny arms growled and lunged at him with its huge war axe. No time to line up a second shot, he dropped his rifle, grabbed the machete at his waist and swung at the creature’s face. The Orc leapt backwards and growled, its eyes morphing from orange to crimson red. Not waiting for the Orc to strike again, he stepped forward and jabbed at its malevolent red eyes, succeeding in ripping one out and cutting a wide gash in its cheek. The creature howled in agony and swung its axe furiously. Qazin dodged and leapt into the Orc’s blind spot and slashed his machete into the creature’s throat, tearing its jugular open, spraying warm blood on his face. The Orc dropped to its knees and fell to the ground gurgling.

  The rest of the Orcs no longer dazed from the explosion turned their attention towards him.

  Adrenaline pumping through his veins at the approaching threat he snapped, “Gralin! Get your arse moving! We’re pulling out!”

  Receiving no response, he swung his head around picking up his rifle and opened his mouth to repeat his command, when he saw hundreds of goblins in dusty brown robes creeping their way forward through the forest. Catching sight of him the Goblins screeched their war cries and swept forward like an angry swarm of bees. Eyes widening in shock, Qazin turned to withdraw, when he noticed one of the filthy green creatures carrying a spear with a decapitated head affixed to the top, its violet-colored eyes dull and lifeless. Face darkening with anger and pity, Qazin sprinted away.

  ~ * ~

  The goblins appearing from all directions, swept past the Orcs with great speed, screaming their wild ululating war cries. Their savage yellow eyes glowing as they came at the men hard and fast. The warriors caught by surprise, were forced to resort to the machetes strapped to their waists. Trained to use both machete and rifle, lighting squad fought back to back against the encroaching goblins. Their machetes hacking off the arms and legs of any goblin that got too close. Blood splattered their grim faces as machetes repeatedly rose and fell. The goblins howled and screeched their war cries in a frenzy of anger for their fallen kin and the night air grew colder as the darkness tightened its grip upon the land.