Rose walked through the shadows away from where she and Elec had been fighting. She immediately realized it to be a bad decision, leaving Elec there by himself, as she suddenly found herself face to face with a tall and savage looking orc.
Lovely, she thought sarcastically, cursing her luck.
It was a dark skinned orc, rumored to be the strongest and toughest of the creatures. She ran past it and dove right into a shadow before it even realized what happened. She stepped out of a shadow on its right flank and scored a quick thrust into its unguarded back just below the ribs and the creature howled in pain. The orc reflexively swung his shield out in an attempt to hit his assailant, but Rose was already gone.
She disappeared and reappeared on the same flank as before, attacking twice more in the same area and kicking out to place the side of her foot into the back of its knee, causing the orc to fall. She stepped into a shadow once more. The orc looked all about the torch-lit area, weapon and shield at the ready, but he had no inkling as to where she’d gone until it was too late.
Rose dropped from directly above him, tumbling out of a shadow and falling right behind him with Avorna grasped tightly in both hands. She very accurately drove the magical blade deeply through its skull. She landed hard on top of the orc’s carcass and tumbled awkwardly, twisting her right ankle badly as she landed.
She heard a loud blast behind her and saw something explode in her peripheral vision. Then she saw Elec, who was cornered by a worg. She rushed off to aid him, ignoring the sharp pain in her right ankle.
Orngoth waded through the goblinoids slowly and methodically, keeping his eyes on the commander all the while. Orcs and goblins clung and hacked, tore and ripped with weapons, claws, teeth and anything else they could bring to bear, but the half-ogre kept advancing, relentlessly and with purpose.
He watched the commander return his unblinking stare, then move forward and clear of the stalagmites to gaze upon him as he made his approach. Grubb did not seem troubled at all by the approaching brute that seemed intent on his death.
Orngoth used his club and his fist, smashing bone and flesh and simply snuffing the life from the goblinoids barring his way with his forceful swings. He hit them with such tremendous force that most of them died under the initial impact.
His prey was close now and a grin begin to creep across the commander’s face. Only one orc stood between Orngoth and Grubb now as he gripped his club with both hands. He then brought the full weight of the massive club down upon the creature, shattering bones and receiving a parting slash on his left thigh as he did.
Oblivious to the pain, he kept moving.
In a show of either great bravery or great stupidity, the orc managed to stand again. Orngoth battered him absently over and over again until he ceased his twitching, lying in a heap, motionless. He roared and stood on top of the dead orc’s helm and snarled at the commander.
A dented and misshapen shield appeared in the orc’s left arm. In his right hand, he held up the gem that Orngoth desperately sought a teasing manner, wagging a finger at him.
“Not a step closer, ogre, or I will destroy the gem,” Grubb cautioned evenly.
Orngoth roared, waving his weapon menacingly in front of him. Grubb tossed the gem aside, causing the half-ogre’s gaze to follow. He drew his wicked blade quickly in one motion, the blade flashing immediately with a blue radiance that engulfed its span, and leapt at the half-ogre. He came to rest upon a flat rock formation, giving himself a higher vantage from which to fight the larger Orngoth.
He slashed a deep cut on the half-ogre’s right arm immediately and blood spilled out, running along his arm, covering over a series of tattoos. Orngoth roared in pain.
The throbbing of the wound, however, seemed to only fuel the barbarian’s legendary bloodlust, as he delivered a massive blow to Grubb’s shield, knocking him back a step. But the stubborn orc regained his footing quickly, holding the shield up defiantly against the substantial club.
Orngoth pummeled the smaller orc with blow after blow and yet Grubb still stood his ground, his shield looking more mangled with each potent blow of the half-ogre’s club. However, his arm was beginning to lower, clearly growing numb under the constant and ferocious assault of the much larger half-ogre.
The orc thrust out with a few more strikes of his blue-tinted blade, making the half-ogre go on the defensive, just enough for him to allow the numbness to fade from his shield arm. He kicked out and knocked Orngoth back, doubling him over. As his foot came back down, he slammed the hilt of his blade into his brow, knocking Orngoth’s helmet clean off in the process. The half-ogre fell onto the lower portion of rock just below the orc commander.
Orngoth was temporarily stunned by the orc’s weighty blow. Grubb took advantage of that.
Grubb leapt high into the air and landed with tremendous force upon Orngoth’s lower left leg. There was an audible snap that echoed throughout the cavern and Orngoth shrieked in pain and reflexively clutched at what was clearly a broken left shin.
Grubb laughed a maniacal laugh and found the discarded gem, scooping it back up once more, wanting to tease the creature a bit more before killing him.
Saeunn fended off several well struck, powerful attacks from the heavy mace of her orc assailant, who seemed to know a good deal about melee. She continued to deflect them with the hilt and flat of her blades, but knew she could not keep it up much longer. The orc warrior was a very capable combatant, she admitted, somewhat admiring his prowess.
She decided on a new strategy. Quickly blocking the heavy mace with the flat of her blade once more, she allowed the orc to score a blow with its small shield, shoving her back. It slammed into her hard, and she rolled with the momentum, knocking her over. She dropped her sword and fell flat on her back, feigning unconsciousness as the orc approached to finish her.
Just as he raised his heavy mace for the killing blow, Saeunn lifted her foot straight up as hard as she could, hitting him squarely in the groin with her instep. He doubled over in pain and began to fall limply upon her. She immediately sprung to her feet, using her arms and legs as the impetus, and caught the orc as he fell into her. She caught his head solidly with both hands, holding him up.
She twisted his head around until it resisted and kept going, snapping his neck and dropping him to the ground.
She turned and surveyed her surroundings.
She witnessed in horror as a rather large orc leaped high into the air, landing atop the prone form of the half-ogre, Orngoth. Simultaneously, she heard the resounding and unmistakable snap of bone that reverberated throughout the huge chamber.
She snatched up her massive blade with both hands and ran off toward them as quickly as her legs would carry her.
Chapter 28
Blow after blow rang out—hammer hitting staff and vice-versa. Sparks flew from the impact, with neither of the two combatants gaining any ground. For several rounds of blows, they exchanged forceful strikes with their respective weapons, neither of them scoring a hit on anything but the other’s weapon. They finally backed away from one another, simultaneously realizing their futility.
The shaman charged Garius again, trying to find an opening in his defenses, but he was denied repeatedly by The Repentant. Garius realized that the brief gift offered from the war-god was fading. He needed to formulate a new strategy.
He allowed the shaman to get close, allowing him another wide swing. But, this time he offered what looked to be a blocking motion and instead, sidestepped it. He reversed his grip on the hammer and slammed its handle into his enemy’s exposed gut.
Garius realized immediately the folly of his strike. It was like hitting solid stone. A backhand from the powerfully altered orc sent him reeling and he barely managed to hold onto his weapon. His armor withstood the blow, but the sheer force of the strike sent him stumbling away.
A repetition of inhumanly strong blows rained down upon him now. Garius finally released the grip on his hammer, again changing tactics in
an attempt to defeat this creature. He recoiled under the mighty assault of the mutated orc, who seemed even more animalistic, its bone-like staff continually crashing down upon him, over and over. His blood-red armor was beginning to conform to the power of this creature’s blows.
Once more, he found himself faced with an opportunity with which he needed to employ the necromantic power of The Reaper. He uttered a prayer to the god of death, asking him once again for access to the deadly degenerative plane. As the gift was granted, he channeled that energy into a discharge of force that sent the shaman hurling away, landing with a thud several paces from him. Garius felt the energy leech a bit of the orc’s soul into him. He also knew he could not reach his weapon and decided instead to use this brief respite to launch another necromantic assault.
Standing once more, he began an invocation, directing the dark energies toward the shaman, who was still getting to his feet. The power welled up inside him, holding it until he could no longer contain it. With that, a loud crackling sound, accompanied by a strange dark-purplish radiance, burst forth from him. It completely consumed the shaman, eating away at his flesh and soul as the shaman’s spirits fought hopelessly to aid him.
But, it was to no avail.
The shaman was simply there one instant and gone the next, that same glow consuming his form as his life was consumed by the Inquisitor, wracking his body as he fell to his knees under the assault. The runes on his armor glimmered and then dimmed, over and over again. He convulsed from the effects of such a powerful necromantic spell for several minutes until he eventually regained his focus.
All evidence of the shaman’s existence was eradicated except for a large antlered helmet that bounced on the stone floor, finally coming to rest near Garius. He stared at it and lamented the war that was raging between the Races of Order and the goblinoids.
“What malevolent instrument has poisoned your minds and made you act in such a way?” he asked rhetorically as he held the antlered helm in his hand. “I intend to find out.”
A dagger came out of nowhere, hitting the worg solidly in its left flank and causing a reactive yelp of pain. The blow also caused the beast to veer off target, just slightly, allowing Elec to roll under it and charge back toward the center of the room to recover his prized blade.
He peered out to detect the source of the throw. He saw Rose resting on one knee, and then he saw her fall forward again, in obvious pain. Something was wrong with her for sure. He was certainly glad she had returned—and none too soon!—but he had a more pressing issue that demanded his full attention.
The worg regained its footing and padded toward Elec, ignoring the dagger in its left side. Elec waited and then glimpsed his enchanted dagger, Wyrm’s Fang, on the ground to his right. He maneuvered that way. He quickly downed another series of potions and wiped the excess from his mouth. The worg came bounding toward him.
Elec dove behind a column of stone and realigned his direction toward his dagger. He landed and in one swift lunge, snatched it up. He sprang up, weapons in hand, just in time to fend off another attack using the hilt of Wyrm’s Fang in a timely downward strike to hit the worg on the snout.
He swiped with his enchanted sword and followed it quickly with a dagger strike as his combinations seemed to be gaining speed now, his elixirs reaching their full effect. He landed a solid thrust to the beast’s left flank, close to where Rose’s dagger still hung.
Elec pressed the attack now, sensing the worg slowing bit by bit while he was gaining speed. He again streamed a steady series of repetitive strikes—dagger then sword, dagger then sword, again and again, until finally he had achieved a series of wounds that proved fatal to the worg.
It finally collapsed and Elec stepped away from the dying beast as it bled out. Then he stepped onto its side, firmly removed Rose’s dagger, wiping it clean on the worg’s pelt.
Elec relaxed a moment, drank another elixir to help treat his wounds, and then turned to see where Rose had gone. He scanned the room and saw her lying face down on the cavern floor.
He ran to check on her, hoping his battle with the worg would not prove her undoing.
Thaurion raced back to the cell and swung the heavy door open wide. Alana stood with a concerned look on her face and a spiked club in her hand, ready to place the spike through his chest until she recognized him for who he was and stopped.
“We are getting out of here,” Thaurion stated boldly. “There is a Faceless Knight here in this temple, stemming the tide of evil within this place!”
Alana’s face brightened as she dropped the club. The orc that sat in the cell, had a clear look of shock and consternation on his face.
“What about him?” Alana asked, pointing at the bound and recently gagged orc.
“We leave him,” Thaurion answered. “I am hoping that this Inquisitor can help us with Rolf’s condition.” The two priests went to Rolf’s side and prepared him as best they could to be moved.
The orc struggled against his ties as Alana and Thaurion slowly hauled Rolf out of the cell and placed him gently outside. Just as Rolf touched the ground, they heard a movement inside the cell.
Thaurion quickly slammed the cell door hard as he saw the orc, after having somehow freed himself, reach for that spiked club and charge the door. He slammed the door with all his might.
The door shut just as he reached the threshold and held firmly as he fell back onto the cold floor, yelling and cursing in the goblinoid tongue. Thaurion couldn’t hold back a smile as he slid the bolt across the doorframe and closed the peephole with a sense of accomplishment. Then he and Alana left with Rolf in tow.
“You will pay!” the orc yelled from behind the locked door. “The Dark Legion will devour your souls!”
They headed down the corridor and out of earshot as quickly as they could manage.
Orngoth clutched at his broken shin. The bone had not broken the skin, but his leg dangled at a strange angle and the pain was intense, even for the half-ogre who had been tortured mercilessly in the past. Grubb had recovered his gem and once more taunted him with it.
“Is this yours?” he teased. “You won’t be needing it any longer.” Grubb laughed uncontrollably, and then stood close to Orngoth as the half-ogre tried ineffectively to grasp at him.
“I could have made you an officer,” Grubb scolded him, attempting to provoke yet more anguish from Orngoth. “You could have been my most powerful enforcer.”
Grubb spun round after saying that, wondering where exactly Tukk had gotten to. He gazed across the room, looking for any movement at all. He saw nothing but bodies and coins strung about in a canvas of blood, gold and gore.
No matter, he thought, as he returned his attention to the broken half-ogre. Out of the corner of his left eye, he witnessed a man adorned in scarlet plated armor approaching. He strode with a purposeful gait toward the orc commander.
Grubb crossed his arms over his chest, shield and sword still held.
“You must be the abomination responsible for this,” Garius stated rhetorically.
“Abomination?” Grubb echoed him incredulously, arms spread wide now in an exaggerated posture. “I am merely defending myself from this creature.” He gestured with a grin at the obviously injured half-ogre.
“What about the acolytes that you hold hostage?!” Garius asked him a bit more emphatically, pressing the point.
“They are none of your concern,” Grubb shrugged, waving his blade threateningly now. “And if you mean to take them, it will be over my dead body.”
“Those are acceptable terms,” Garius nodded, charging the orc with The Repentant held firmly in both hands.
The loud thundering of his hammer crashing against the orc’s shield masked the sound of Saeunn’s battle cry as she leapt from behind him, meaning to drive her mighty sword through the orc’s unprotected back. Garius now caught sight of her as she implemented the familiar and aggressive tactic that the Chansuk barbarians used—full-out, seemingly uncontrolled aggre
ssion.
Somehow, the orc, obviously their leader, was able to reach back and smack Saeunn hard in the head with the pommel of his sword as he had somehow sensed her approach.
Garius watched as the blow struck with bone jarring force, and she landed rather awkwardly on the ground beside Orngoth. He saw her grimace as she lay sprawled on the hard floor, possibly hurt, but to what extent he did not know.
Garius absorbed a blow from the shield as the orc launched an attack that shoved him backward. He saw Saeunn clutching at her left elbow, her greatsword on the ground. It was the last thing he saw as he endured a series of powerful blows that rained down upon his helmet. The orc concentrated his attacks on the faceplate of the Inquisitor until he fell back, stumbling over some uneven ground to land prone on the cavern floor.
Elec found Rose and forced a curative elixir down her throat. Most of it made it down, he realized thankfully. She coughed and opened her eyes slowly. She smiled at him and winked playfully, ensuring that her sense of humor was intact at least.
“I was hoping to see you again,” she said as she glanced about. “The dire wolf?”
“Is dead now…thanks to you,” Elec finished, smiling at her and offering a hand up. “I believe this is yours?” Elec offered the dagger to her and she accepted it back with a nod and tried to get up, clutching her ankle as she stood.
“Dammit!” she yelled as she attempted to put pressure on it. It was obviously painful for her, but she managed to force herself to stand, trying to shove Elec away to test the severity.
“Let me help you,” Elec offered, forcing his shoulder under her arm as they limped toward the cavern entrance, surveying the room. They heard the sound of battle to their right and began to slowly make their way over to see what it was.
The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) Page 47