1Chapter II: Angel of Retribution
Gord was a good orc. A giant for even his race, he stood almost seven feet tall; seven feet of dark green muscle and metal, his wiry black hair tied back into one thick braid which fell to his waist. He wore a dumb expression on his face, while his chain mail clanked languidly against his chest. He held an enormous double bladed battle axe in one meaty hand. In his other he held a torch, with which he threw into an already burning building. He smirked because he knew there would be much blood spilled here tonight, and he especially loved spilling the blood of the night elves. He would kill them on the battlefield, in their homes, or while they slept. It did not matter, his blood lust would not cease. He'd kill in order to sustain his sanity, at least for a short while.
A huge flaming boulder crashed into the building next to Gord, exploding and showering him with shrapnel. His blood lust grew and he roared. Blood dripped down his face and onto his upper body from the many splinters now lodged in his body. The whole village was burning sending smoke clouds into the skies until all that was visible was the red of the flames, the red blood of the dead, and the red silhouettes of the perished combatants. The air was filled with the death cries of the night elves, the battle howls of orcs, the occasional boulder launched from crude catapults, and the crackling and popping of flaming buildings.
Gord didn't even realize that he had been walking; the blood lust had poisoned his mind while strengthening his body. He stopped at the edge of the island near a small flaming shack. He stood and stared at the tiny shack, when suddenly the door flew off its hinges. The huge orc lazily sidestepped the flying door, raising his huge axe in a defensive stance, ready to respond to almost anything that came at him… almost, anything.
There, directly in front of him, stood a demon. The demon was pure black, a shadow. He could see the flames emerging from the burning shack; licking its outline. The demon's huge jutting shoulders stuck out from its body, its horned head turned and gazed sharply at him. Gord, unable to speak, let his axe drop a little. The demon's eyes began to glow a bright white. Suddenly, a breeze blew past the orc and the demon spread its feathery wings. He slowly came to the realization that this was not a demon, but an angel. As the being swung its sword at Gord's head, he grew certain that this was indeed an angel. An Angel of Retribution.
--
Gull exhaled as his sword cleaved through the green beast's neck. He immediately returned to a neutral stance, even as the orc's head landed next to him with a dull thud and the body teetering. His years of disciplined swordplay had taught him to never underestimate an opponent. He did not have time to wonder why Gord had not attacked him before he heard the whistle of steel cutting through the air behind him. He whirled around, parrying a blow from above his head, which would have split his skull, Gull then brought down his own sword in a diagonal slash across the attacker's chest. He kicked his opponent in the chest and the orc fell onto its back, dead before it touched the ground.
Gull looked at the scene unfolding around him. The orcs had killed the Sentinels and most of the community was on fire. The invaders were roaming around in small groups, knocking over statues and archways while smashing anything they could get their hands on. A large number of orcs were clustered around the Lodge, the largest building in the village, which overlooked the lake. Curiously it was not on fire, and Gull soon saw why. Every time one of the orcs came within distance to throw a torch, they would be shot or hit, with a green bolt of crackling energy. The orcs were stout, a simple bullet or spell would not stop them for they would simply get up and take another charge. Gull could see the defenders would not last much longer; the amount of orcs that were slowly converging on the building meant that eventually one of their torches would hit its mark.
Gull started off towards the Lodge when he heard the battle cry of an orc behind him. Spinning around quickly he blocked the sharp blade of the axe, but was thrown off balance. The orc, taking advantage of this, elbowed Gull in the stomach, attempting to knock him off his feet. Gull twisted his midsection to deflect the force of the blow and brought down the pommel of his sword on the orc's head. The orc was stunned for only a fraction of a second, but it was as long as was needed. Gull forced his sword through the green humanoid's midsection releasing a surge of blood from the orc's body.
Gull heard the same whistling noise as before, signaling an incoming attack. He pulled on his sword, which slid smoothly from the collapsing orc's body, as he did this he turned around and deflected the incoming blow with the side of his sword. He sliced at the enemy, but the orc managed a quick block and was knocked off his footing. Pressing his advantage on the green skin, Gull rapidly slashed left and right across its chest. The orc reeled from the attack and threw its arms behind his head for a power attack. Gull stabbed the orc's throat while its defenses were down and at last killed the beast.
Gull paused, holding his sword in front of himself. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears obscured the sound of the crackling fire. He sensed movement from the darkness behind him, twisting his torso to scarcely dodge an axe as it flew past his ear. He turned around to see two more orcs running towards him. One broke off to his left and the other to his right trying to flank him. Gull hastily blocked a high attack to his right and then pointed his sword towards the ground to block an attack aimed at his legs. He jumped back, swinging his sword upwards into the neck of the rightmost orc. As the slain opponent fell, Gull thrust his sword into the neck of the other orc as its arms went wide for a swing.
When the second orc's corpse hit the ground, Gull felt a sense of relief; however, it was short lived. Gull looked in the direction of the lodge and spotted a group of no less than a dozen orc warriors running at him with their weapons drawn, howling their war cries. Gull sighed and twirled his sword in right hand as they approached. As they neared melee distance, he channeled his Holy Energy into the blade. When they struck, he would be ready.
--
A pellet of heavy shot produced a loud crack and a faint plume of smoke as it flew from Ferunn's hunting rifle into the chest of an orc. The green creature merely stumbled before charging once more. Around him other orcs sprinted towards him as well; their thick mail amour clattering loudly. They were armed with an assortment of weaponry, including axes, swords, spears, and maces. But they all held one thing in common: a lighted torch in their hands. So far Ferunn and the druid, Kaylenn, had been able to hold off the brutal assault, firing from the holes in their makeshift barricade of furniture and the old splintered door of the Lodge. Out of the open wall, which overlooked the lake, a hellish red light flowed in. Luckily that part of the lodge wall was open providing an avenue for projectiles to move through, but denying the orcs from entering. Kaylenn held his arms in front of him, palms outward; trembling slightly from the mana converging in his arms, he shook violently and releasing a pulsing crackling green ball of energy. The magical projectile flew through the narrow opening and knocked an orc off his feet a few meters away. Hearing the moans of the wounded behind him, Kaylenn realized they needed him. Another night elf, wearing a bloody bandage around his head, ran to the barricade taking Kaylenn's position and loaded an arrow into his bow.
Ferunn was firing as fast as he could, scooping pellets from his pouch and jamming them into his gun. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he fired desperately into the oncoming tide of green skins. He knew they could only hold out for so long before being eventually overwhelmed, but he fired on anyway. Ferunn glanced over at his fellow night elf beside him, watching his dark green hair be tossed back and forth as he threaded arrow after arrow into his bow before letting them loose through the narrow opening in the wall. Without warning, the sound of a small piece of wood striking the framework of the structure resonated throughout the lodge…
Time seemed to slow as the realization of what just happened slowly crept into the minds of the few inhabitants. The wounded lay bleeding in one end of the L shaped lodge as Kaylenn tried his best to mend their wounds. Some sat up with a look of dread on their faces. Ferunn ignored them and continued to fire at his, constant, insane pace. More and more torches landed on the roof, and the sizzle of the spreading fire soon could be heard. The temperature increased, as a support beam began to fall down from the roof, leaving a gaping hole in it. The orcs, seeing their assault had worked, began to charge the barrier with hardened resolve. The barricade would not hold against the blunt force of the orcish bodies colliding with it. As the spreading flames licked at Ferunn's squatting body he clenched his teeth against the pain and continued to fire… unsure if he would outlast the building he sat in.
--
Gull danced inside a wall of steel, swinging his sword in all directions, deflecting the attacks of the orcs who surrounded him. One attacker threw his sword downwards attempting to decapitate him. He placed his sword parallel to the ground and blocked, before immediately shifting his sword behind his back to block an attack from the rear. He spun, flinging his weapon into the path of another attack. The orcs slashed and chopped with their weapons, but every move, every attack, every advance was countered by Gull's Truesilver Champion with extreme precision. The orcs couldn't break through Gull's defense, but Gull himself could not hit them. If he broke his chain of parries and blocks it was sure that an orc would strike him, then another, and another until he was but a bleeding chunk of flesh; but Gull's entire mind was not focused on swordplay.
Gull slowly channeled the mana he needed for a spell. Blocking another attack, he jumped back with all the force his legs could muster, knocking the orcs behind him to the ground while getting sufficient distance from the whole group. Spreading his hands, he let loose the mana; his palms shone a bright white as he clapped them together while still holding his sword. A blinding sphere of white spread outwards like a wave of light. The light burned the orcs' eyes, blinding them momentarily, which was all Gull needed.
As they threw up their hands to shield their eyes, Gull charged towards them. He sliced into the unarmored section of an orc's chest. Twirling, he stabbed another orc in the neck, and yet another through the armpit as its arms were still raised in reflex from the flash of light. The fourth had regained some of its vision, and launched a feeble attack at Gull, who easily sidestepped it and decapitated the orc. The two dazed opponents whom he bowled over had rose to their feet. Gull kneed one in the stomach, knocking the air out of it, while he slit the other across the face followed by driving his sword through the chest of his final opponent who was still gasping for breath.
Gull stood over the pile of bodies panting heavily. He drove his sword into the ground and leaned on the hilt as he tried to catch his breath. He had forgotten how tiring fighting in his heavy plate armor was. He gazed at the ground which was littered with bodies of his fallen opponents, and felt his heart swell, mourning for the lives that he had taken. It greatly pained Gull to kill, to end a life. He had become a Paladin to defend, heal, and preserve life, not take it away. He lifted his head at the ghastly sight that was once his home; in his mind, he could still see the night elves working at the loom in the small house that was now a pile of smoldering wood, the hunters conversing idly in their hall, the guards playing and sparring at their post. The memories of his stay fortified his resolve. He remembered the other reasons why he had became a Paladin, to stop innocent deaths and to bring justice to those who would defile and pillage his home and its people.
Gull was so deep in his contemplation that he did not notice the axe swung at his side, until it was too late. Gull was jarred back into reality by a searing pain in his side. The orc twisted the blade, opening the wound more as he ripped it from his side. Wincing in pain, he parried one of the orc's swings at his head with one hand, his other pressed firmly against his wound. The axe had cleaved right through his armour and into the side of his ribs, although it probably would have been much worse without the rusting heap of metal that he was wearing. Gull blocked another attack and slashed at the orc's undefended arm. It cut deeply, and the orc howled out of pain and blood lust. He began to swing wildly, ignoring the fact that Gull was lightly slitting and stabbing in between the orc's larger and more powerful attacks. The Paladin dodged, blocked, and parried past his opponent's blows until he made a dangerous thrust with the tip of his blade; the orc jumped aside and drove his axe deep into Gull's shoulder. The orc leaned on the axe, forcing him to his knee before he took aim at his neck. Rolling out of the way, Gull stood again, still holding his side with his left hand and sword with his right.
Blood was rolling down his side and spilling from his shoulder; it took all the strength Gull could gather to keep from passing out. The orc roared and threw another attack but as Gull rose to block it, the orc changed direction at the last second and delivered a brutal incision to his stomach. Gull jumped back and fell to his knee in pain. The orc was in pain as well, from the many smaller lighter jabs and cuts that were inflicted upon him, but he still had a bit of fight left in him, enough to finish off the wounded paladin. Closing his eyes, Gull began to cast the Holy Light onto his wounds. His hands began to glow as he formed the spell. A ray of Holy Light flashed across Gull's body; his cuts closed, flesh mended, and bones snapped back together. Gull stood straight, taking his sword in both hands, staring intently at his opponent, daring him to try again. The orc realized he was beat, and let forth a bone rattling roar before charged at the Paladin. Gull greeted the orc sword point first, and ran it into him all the way to the hilt. Pulling on the sword, he released the body of the orcish warrior to the ground.
From the corner of his eye Gull noticed several orcs regrouping around Norbert's shack. Silently praying that his friend was still alive, he gathered himself and ran towards them.
--
As Gull approached the dwelling, he became aware that the orcs had not spotted him. Carefully, he crouched low and crept closer, keeping a small shrub between him and his opponents. The orcs had arranged themselves around the entrance to the shack; one on the left, one on the right, and two in front of the door; one of the orcs that was in front of the door leaned and pulled his leg back to kick the door in. At that instant, a huge column of flame exploded from the interior of the shack, incinerating the door and charring both the orcs into blackened, smoking corpses.
Norbert sprang from his smoking door frame; he had abandoned his long blue scholarly robes for fire red short-sleeved combat robes. A ball of fiery magic already gathered in both of his hands. He extended both arms parallel to the ground with palms outward, and two spheres of fire shot from his palms, striking the orcs in their chests and knocking them back. The young mage lowered his arms and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his robes.
Gull was impressed with the power of his young friend. He knew now that Norbert could handle himself and was about to leave his friend when he heard a shout. Norbert fell to the ground in a daze; in an instant another orc was on top of him, its arms arcing over his head. Out of instinct, Gull sent a Hammer of Justice flying at the orc. The conjured magical hammer struck him and he wobbled back and forth, stunned.
As Gull was closing the distance between himself and his opponent, the orc came out from the effect of the spell. Unaware of what happened, he brought the axe down on the young mage, who had just come to his senses. Unable to react to the sudden attack, he froze, staring at his impending doom. Gull hooked his sword under the head of the axe and twisted the weapon out of the orc's grip before driving his blade into orcish flesh.
Gull knelt beside his fallen friend and extended his healing aura to the downed mage. Coming to his senses, Norbert became aware of Gull's presence. He stared up at the paladin.
"Wh-who are you?"
"Retribution."