Prologue

The army of Orcs closed on the Sarnasis, two hundred strong. Standing between them and the city was an army composed mostly of the city's own garrison of troops, but containing a group of six adventurers. Leading the team and standing at the head of the defending army, and wielding a massive, electrically charged warhammer, was Laron Darta a Human Ranger with amazing skills rivaling any in the world. At his side was his closest friend, Brutticus Force, a Dwarf-raised Elf Fighter of massive size- his magic broadsword, Quicksilver, drawn and ready. Nearby was Zolthar Axehammer, a skilled Dwarven Battlerager, the weapon that gave him his name clutched in both hands, ready for battle. Standing behind the line, was the Drow Wizard Nindar, clutching two staves, charged with battle magic. Up on the walls with the city's meager archery force were the Elven Scout Cloa Mandara, his longbow, Thunderstrike, notched and aimed at the oncoming army, and the Halfling Rogue, Johnadoc Bracegirdle, with his shortbow, Orcslayer, loaded and ready.

"Stand ready." Laron hefted his warhammer. "Remember, you are all that stands between your families, homes, and community and the Orcs."

The troops of the Sarnasisan militia, shifted, half-nervous and half in eager tension. They were eager to kill the Orcs that had terrorized and threatened their area and town for weeks, but, at the same time, they were apprehensive of battle, as any person would be. Even the six adventurers were aware of the possible outcome of this battle, an outcome they might not be able to avert.

"Here they come!"

The battle was quickly joined. The orc army was well skilled in fighting but the city garrison gave as good as it got. The six adventurers gave even better. The defenders were slowly rebuffing the attack. Until…

A extremely large, fast, strange-looking orc with two long swords charged through the lines, and went straight for Nindar. The Wizard never hesitated, just uttered a command.

"Flaes-a-shin!" a bolt of fire flew from his left hand. The Orc simply ducked it.

"Fales-a-daow!" a bolt of lightning, a spell that had felled many was simply deflected by the Orc's larger, obviously magic sword. Before Nindar could fire off another spell, the Orc was on him. He blocked the initial strikes with his staves, but soon he was overwhelmed. The Orc's blade pierced his stomach and he gasped.

"Nindar!" screamed Cloa, who quickly took aim. As the dark Elf sank to his knees the Orc severed his head with his second sword, while simultaneously deflecting Cloa's missile. He then turned and began charging straight up the wall.

"Johnadoc, dual fire!" Both took aim and fired. The arrows were skillfully deflected and then the Orc was leaping over the top of the wall and swinging at the Halfling. The acrobatic Scout flipped away from the whistling blades, beginning to draw his own shortsword, but the Orc quickly changed his magic sword's direction and sliced into Johnadoc's leg. The Halfling's leap, however, continued, taking him over the side of the wall, and yanking the Orc's sword from his grasp.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Cloa, not as used to melee as some of his compatriots, nevertheless dropped his bow and began drawing his scimitar.

He never got it completely out of the scabbard.

A knife whistled through the air and caught him in the windpipe, severing his Jugular vein. He dropped like a stone.

"No!" screamed Zolthar rushing to the wall. In a blind rage, he began striking the wall with the hammer end of his weapon.

"Zolthar, you'll bring down the wall!" cried Laron but the Dwarf didn't hear him. He struck the wall again, the vibrations causing the Orc to stagger briefly. Before the Dwarf could strike again, the Orc dove off the wall, sword preceding him as he headed straight for Zolthar. The Battlerager deftly parried the sword.

The Orc pushed off from the axehammer and landed a foot away on his feet. He quickly came after the Dwarf. A brief, swift-moving duel ensued before the Orc ducked a potentially brain-scrambling strike and skewered the unfortunate Dwarf. Laron and Brutticus could not believe that their four friends- who, over the years had helped them end the lives of Teilflings, Vampires, Werwolves, Trolls and even a Dragon, not to mention many Orcs and Goblins- were gone in a matter of moments, and all to a single foe. Brutticus' blood was boiling as he turned to face this foe his magical sword weaving through the air at amazing speed.

"Enough!" Laron raised his magical warhammer and, with a scream fired off a wave of lightning that struck the Orc army with amazing force, flash-frying more than a few in seconds.

He turned to find Brutticus dueling with the Orc and holding his own, barely.

"Brutticus! 912!" with that mysterious cry, Laron heaved his warhammer at the back of Brutticus' head with tremendous force. At the last second, Brutticus ducked and the warhammer smashed into the head of the Orc. Surprisingly, the Orc's head was not crushed. He was, however, stunned.

Brutticus quickly remedied that. Through his own anger and the magic of Quicksilver, the sword completely carved out the Orc's stomach. The being gave a strangled gurgle and collapsed. Seconds later the battle ended as the Orcs realized that their champion had fallen and that the two heroes still standing possessed skills and magic well beyond their capabilities to defeat and quickly retreated.

A cry went up from the assembled army, Sarnasis was safe. The two standing adventurers, however, did not celebrate. Brutticus leaned down to take the Orc's head, and inadvertently heard the creature's last words.

"The son… of One-Eye and… Ali'hiel… has given… as good as he… could… I die… with… honor."

"Ali'hiel." Muttered the Elf as he turned to his friend. "He had Drow blood in him."

"Drow and Orc? Dangerous mix."

"Take a look at his size. Some Ogre or Troll in there too."

A loud groan of pain captured Laron's attention before he could respond. Both adventurers looked around to see a small form on the ground with a rather large sword sticking up from it.

"Johnadoc!" Laron and Brutticus dashed over to their compatriot.

"Ow. That was a long fall."

"Careful. You might have internal damage."

"I can't feel my legs."

"Broken back, probably."

"We need a healer to see him immediately."

"We can't move him. We don't know what else is damaged."

The Halfling was still worried about his friends.

"Nindar? Cloa? Zolthar?"

"All killed by that creature." Laron hung his head.

"The Orcs?"

"Retreated."

"So their death was not in vain."

"They should not have died at all!" Brutticus threw back his head and cried to the heavens. "By my eternal soul, Quicksilver will find the necks of that beast's parents if they are alive!"

With similar fury Laron added, " If Mijolnir does not first crush their skulls. One-Eye and Ali'heil, you will rue the day you produced that abomination and any others!"