Apologies for the odd first chapter. I just want to establish characters and events etcetera. Now, onwards!
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I hate war. The stench and the clamour, the unrelenting chaos as dwarf struggled against orc. Elves fired arrows into the fray from afar and danced about like they were at a celebration or some such nonsense. The men have long since fled our battlefield, returning to Dale which was so ruined that it was utterly indefensible.
Yes, war is likely the thing I hate most about our world, especially this war.
I hated the way the tales and the history books portrayed these kinds of battles, as though they were heroic and each step taken by a warrior was carefully calculated by some valiant figure like Lord Dain. In truth, Lord Dain was scrambling around the middle of this chaos just like everyone else, with no idea of what was going on.
So yes, battle was nothing like what we were told as children. It was like watching two immense storm clouds collide. Everything got extremely loud and tumultuous and all the little rain drops are thrown down by the angry, overbearing rain clouds with no idea what they're supposed to be doing. They just smash into each other and get really confused about what's going on. Then they just keep obliterating all the other rain drops. Mindless. Endless.
That probably didn't make any sense at all, did it? But I suppose that about summed up battle in general. It's messy, chaotic and totally stupid.
So stupid, in fact. That I'm running pell-mell up the side of a mountain and hoping that I can reach the stupid king and his stupid heirs before they all got themselves stupidly killed. Stupid, stupid, stupid! And I was only running up the freaking mountain because I'd been ordered to, of course.
"This is so pointless," my brother gasped from beside me. I turned my head and cracked a grin at his bright red cheeks, at the sweat pouring off his face and at his evident struggle. "We're never going to reach them-" here he paused for an immense drag of breath. "-in time."
"Ever the optimist, aren't you Kier?" Mimf barked a laugh from behind before realising that she probably needed that air and choking as she tried to get it back.
"Realist," Kier gasped back. I know he is right despite wanting him to be wrong out of principle. Even if we do reach the others in time, we would likely be too exhausted to be of any use whatsoever in a fight. None of us were actually sure how the king and his heirs managed to get up Raven Hill so quickly. Dain sent us after them right after they left. I mean, maybe they were damn fit from crossing the entire map from west to east, but I doubt they were that bloody fit.
Well, at least I wasn't struggling as much as some of my companions. Halr looked like he was gradually turning purple. I turned to Kier and grinned with what little energy I could spare. My brother, my tough-as-iron older brother who had always been stronger, tougher and just generally better than me, looked to be on the very cusp of passing out as he ran. And we weren't even half way.
"This is all Corrie's fault," I said, loud enough for my brother and the others to all hear. The others didn't know who Corrie was, but they would make sense –and humour- of it regardless.
"What are you accusing my wife of now?" Kier asked, scowling at me from beneath his open faced helmet. I laughed fleetingly at the disgruntled expression on his face before refocusing on my footing. His wife and I just could not get along and I never could resist an opportunity to antagonise the pair of them.
"It's all this good food she makes," I replied, my stomach roiling at the mere thought of one of Corrie's sweet cakes. I could stand her cooking about as much as I could stand the dwarrowdam herself. Which is to say not at all. Fortunately I had become remarkably skilled at avoiding Corrie whilst still getting a full dose of their amazing and adorable daughter. "I swear, these last few years you've become twice the dwarf you ever were brother!"
"And she doesn't mean in a metaphorical sense!" Skaan huffed with laughter and Kier insulted us both colourfully before we all got back to the issue at hand. Running.
Up a bloody mountain.
I would much rather be cutting up orcs into itty-bitty little pieces down below, standing shoulder to shoulder with my brethren, carving up the enemy and reminding them why they shouldn't mess with us dwarves.
Yeah, that just goes to show how much I really didn't want to be running up towards Raven Hill watchtower since I didn't actually want to be down there either. I've already told you how much I despise war and battle. I mean, Mahal's sake, I'm not even a soldier! I'm just a lowly crafter practicing my skill beside my brother under the careful tutelage of our father, the leather-smith. Prestigious, I know.
Oh, so now you're wondering why nobodies are fighting amidst Dain's famed grey army, aren't you? Well that's because Dain's actual army is still back in the Iron Hills, cleaning out bandits from the nearby locality. Just about every dwarf here is part of the reserve.
When Thorin Oakenshield's plea for help came through Dain had no time to recall the bulk of his forces so all of us who had some skill at fighting but weren't technically soldiers were called forward to take up the famed grey armour of the Iron Hills and march to a war none of us were ready for. In truth we were only expecting to have to scare off some humans and a few elves, nothing too strenuous. All Dain needed was a show of force and when we were all lined up in ranks and scowling, you couldn't tell the difference between us and the veterans. Well, there was that one person in the third row, seventh column that kept dropping his spear but we surreptitiously … disposed of him.
So now Dain was trying to defend his cousin and the ancient halls of Erebor with an army that was one quarter professional soldiers and half recruits. The final portion was made up of us. The rabble. Those who could fight to defend themselves and their kin, but had never done so in rank and file. I doubted most of us had ever fought in a proper battle. I know I hadn't, and my brother hadn't either.
So that could be the possible reason why we were doing so badly.
"What's that?" Mimf's unmistakable, higher-pitched voice sounded loudly from just behind me. I flicked my head up and instantly saw what she was talking about. Not that I could miss it, not really.
It was a wooden structure, looking rather dilapidated after over two decades of neglect, which started within a small stone building. The building was resting right on the narrow path we were climbing. From the building a frame network made its way up the cliff face to the base of the main watchtower on Raven Hill above us. There was a large platform there and I imagined there would be a door leading inside the tower.
"What is it?" Halr asked again and I grinned. I knew what it was. I had seen one before.
"It's a lift!"I cried. "They must've built it so that there was no need to travel all the way around the hill to deliver supplies and the like. Lazy buggers." I added.
"Those were your ancestors," I heard my brother mutter and he was duly ignored as Halr asked:
"The path ends on the opposite side of Raven Hill, doesn't it?" My brother confirmed this with a solid nod of his head.
"Which means if we used that lift-"
"We would be behind the orc's main defences," I finished my brother's statement with a broad smile on my face. "They would be caught on two fronts and we wouldn't have to run so damn far."
"Definitely your ancestors," my brother grumbled, rolling his eyes. Skaan shot him a confused glance.
"I doubt it will be that simple," Halr grumbled, practically wringing sweat out of his immense brown beard. "I mean, it can't be that easy. The orcs wouldn't just leave it open and nice, knowing we could just go up and walk straight on in through their back door."
"No, they wouldn't," I acquiesced. "This type of lift is an ancient construct, though very rare nowadays as most of the old kingdoms have been lost to us. They were probably used in Moria way back, so I don't doubt that the orcs know what it does and how it works, or at least how to disable it."
"That's not necessarily a good thing," Kier raised his eyebrows at me. "So why are you smiling?"
"Because, dear, ignorant brother, this contraption could serve as an escape route or a means of reinforcements." I was excited now, and totally missed my brother shooting rude gestures at me for calling him ignorant. This could work, it had to. The others were all beginning to look at me like I was utterly mad, but I didn't care. I knew I was onto something. Something the rest of them had missed. "So they wouldn't have destroyed the lift!"
"I don't think that they've conveniently just left this amazing opening for us Khayl," my brother said in an almost patronising kind of way, shaking his head. I rolled my eyes; I hated when he talked like that, as though being the elder actually meant something. Why could he not just listen for two seconds? Was it some kind of strange male prerogative that they just expected you to spell every little thing out to them?
"They would have sabotaged it," Mimf said in no small degree of wonder. Mahal be praised for sending another female along with me! "But in such a way that it could be fixed from either end."
"And the only thing I can think of is that they hid the pegs," Okay, so there was a fair chance that I was about to embarrass myself really, really badly by making that gigantic assumption but my mouth had a bad habit of saying things that I didn't really intend to say in the first place. However I had seen one of these amazing contraptions before whilst hunting beyond my usual boundaries. It had been on top of a narrow shaft that went directly down into the stony earth, the lift allowing access straight into the mine that lay well below the surface without the need for miles and miles of ladders. I had studied the mechanisms carefully, even attempting a little research back home when I could find the time. Whoever had worked and then abandoned the mine had removed the pegs from the turntable so that it couldn't be operated. Of course, they'd also removed cogs and cut chains to render the construct useless, but those were fairly permanent solves.
We entered the dimly lit building cautiously, weapons bared and searching the corners, though fortunately it was empty. Just as I had said, the turntable in the centre of the room had the pegs used for pushing it around removed. They were most likely hidden somewhere in the shack, above dwarf eye-height. (Dwarves were, admittedly, the only ones stupid or valiant enough to go chasing after the leader of the orcs.)
"I was right," I said smugly, earning a smack on the back of my head from my brother. "The pegs are gone."
Halr groaned from behind me.
"Fantastic," Skaan muttered. I glanced at him curiously as he grumbled to himself, searching beneath benches and furniture. In the half hour or so that I had known Skaan, I had taken the dark-haired dwarf for being quite the joker and a bit of an eternal optimist.
"We can improvise," I said loudly, clapping my gloved hands together in order to get the rest of our rag-tag, plucked-from-nowhere team focused on me. I took a moment to take in each of their faces. All of us lived in the Iron Hills and yet none of us had met before this day (save my brother and I of course!). What kind of insular society did we live in within our mountains that we can spend out entire lives within spitting distance of each other and never meet?
"With what?" Kier asked in exasperation. He knew I was off on some peculiar, ill-thought out scheme and that his life would go easier for him if he just listened to me, rather than bickering. We had a strange relationship like that.
"I've got this," Mimf said and I stared at her in bewilderment. She readied her massive axe and then swung it ferociously, all of us flinching at the racket she made as the poor, defenceless table in the corner shattered into a thousand splinters. And four rather sturdy legs. Mimf pulled out one of these legs and pressed it into one of the vacant holes in the turntable, turning and grinning at us when the makeshift 'peg' fitted almost perfectly. If it was kept pressed into the hole it would work like a charm.
"That was… pretty clever," I was forced to admit, still marginally struck dumb by Mimf's actions. The other dwarrowdam was way more intelligent and creative than I had thought to give her credit for.
"I'm flattered," Mimf responded dryly. "You can't be the only one with a few brain cells around here now, can you?"
I grinned at her and she smirked back at me before I said "One person should be able to get us all to the top."
The lift was dwarf craft. They were made to be able to lift maximum weight with minimum effort. Yep, we dwarves may be quite enterprising when we want to, but we were also pretty slack, or at least our ancestors were when they designed some of our greatest creations.
The five of us all shared a glance, no one wanting to be the one left behind, getting all the glory of operating the lift.
"I will do it," Mimf said after a long moment, astonishing me once again. She was just full of surprises this one. Mimf had only just passed all of her final tests, promoting her from recruit to soldier. In fact, she was the only actual soldier amongst our team. Halr was a baker and Skaan a stonemason. So Mimf was the last one of us that I expected to offer to remain behind.
Our astonishment must have shown on our faces for Mimf rolled her eyes and sighed, her narrow face displaying her irritation. I would have been pissed too, people having that much of a lack in faith in me.
"Look, if any orc tries to come through here, I'll deal with them. The rest of you are better off sticking together, watching each other's backs. I can watch out for myself." She paused a moment after her little tirade before grinning reassuringly at us. "Now go save our new king before he gets his stupid arse killed."
We all snorted briefly before Halr, Skaan and Kier filed past Mimf and into the lift. I hesitated for a moment. Mimf was the only other dwarrowdam brave –or stupid- enough to take up arms and march into this battle. She wanted to be the first ever dwarrowdam to be promoted to Captain of the Guard. I admired her. Also, we got along really well.
"Stay safe Mimf," I managed to say. We both grinned at how ridiculous that was to say in the middle of a battle.
"Kill many orcs, sister," Mimf replied and I felt a broad smile cross my face. To acknowledge one who wasn't of your blood as 'brother' or 'sister' was a great honour indeed.
"And you, sister," I touched her shoulder briefly before stepping back into the lift and closing the gate, effectively separating us from her. Kier nudged me in the side as the lift jerkily began to ascend with astonishing swiftness. We were all looking determinedly at the cliff face, not even daring the glance at the open air that whistled past or at the hard ground that loomed below.
"She's been your sister for all of about two seconds and already you prefer her," Kier grumbled to me moodily, but with a hint of playfulness in his eyes. I smiled reassuringly at him and patted the bulging bicep that I knew was hidden beneath the heavy layers of his armour.
"Worry not brother, you are not so hard to out-do," I smirked as Skaan and Halr chuckled. Kier glared for a moment before grinning maniacally and grabbing me in a headlock, tucking me under his sweaty, stinky pit, ruffling my hair. I bemoaned the loss of my helmet early in the fighting as he did so. It was rank.
I punched his ribs several times and elbowed him vigorously, only succeeding in bruising myself whilst he and our companions cackled maniacally as I growled and swore and cursed though I truly meant none of it. I knew what my brother was doing and went along with it willingly. This kind of comic relief was important in any part of a fight to restore moral. Our father, who had once been a great warrior, had taught us these things as well as teaching us to fight. I was grateful.
Kier released me and I took the opportunity to smack him one last time. Then we stood in companionable silence, the small grins on our faces refusing to fade until we were above half way. My brother and I leaned on one another, shoulder against shoulder, as we had always done when we felt especially close.
I glanced up at the rapidly approaching door and took a deep breath to steady my mounting nerves. We were about to face the orc commander's captains, the best of the best. The mere thought filled me with dread. The chance that we didn't make it out of there was scarily high. And on top of that pressure we still had to find the king and keep him safe. The impossibility of it all made me want to weep. I just wasn't really cut out for this kind of thing.
"Nadad," I breathed and Kier glanced up from examining his sword to meet my gaze. Wordlessly he reached out and drew me into him, pressing our foreheads together with all the tenderness in the world, despite the awkwardness of him wearing a helmet and me not. But hey, it's the thought that counts.
"Love you nadad," I said softly and Kier smiled gently at me from beneath his rust-coloured beard. He stepped back at the same moment I did and we both readied ourselves for we were drawing near now.
"I love you too, little fox," he grinned as he used our father's name for me and I rolled my eyes.
"We're here," Halr noted unnecessarily for we all felt the jolt as the lift stopped at the platform and we all saw the door appear in front of us. I imagined Mimf down below, sweating, cursing and very much alone and felt guilty even though it had been her choice. I wished she were here with us.
Kier pulled open the lift door and Skaan attempted to push open the tower door. The heavy wood refused to budge even an inch. There was no way to open it from our side.
"Great, now what?" Halr grumped and I scowled at him before stepping up and knocking politely on the door. The others stared at me disbelievingly whilst I moved to one side of the doorway, drawing my sword from the scabbard at my side and twirling my hatchet in my left hand.
"What are you doing?" My brother hissed, looking anxiously at the door. "How stupid do you think orcs actually are?"
"Pretty stupid," I replied smugly as there was the rattle of keys in the door and it swung open towards us. I could only imagine that the orc's disbelieving expression matched the ones on the faces of my brother and our companions. The moment of surprise stretched on briefly before Kier swung the door into the orcs face. The door hit him with a resounding crack and swung back towards us whereupon we charged through.
I took the momentary advantage of surprise and ferocity and launched myself at the nearest orc, getting my first real look at one of the orc commander's elite soldiers.
I plunged my sword straight into the belly of the orc, using my hatchet to swipe away the laxly gripped axe which skittered away across the stone floor. The orc, an enormous, hulking specimen, snarled and stumbled back, dropping to its knees. I yanked my sword free and took his head.
Kier, Skaan and Halr had been right on my tail, plunging into the fray with a cacophony of yells. The orcs were stunned, seemingly unable to comprehend what was going on. They had thought themselves safe, sitting up here cosily in their tower.
Kier threw himself at the two orcs who were sitting quite civilly at a small table and Halr grappled with another, whilst Skaan swung a chair a weedy looking fellow. The fifth orc was the one struck by the door, and he was already off and running for the exit. I pulled back my arm and used all the skills that my father had honed in me to launch the weapon. The hatchet turned end over end until its keen head burrowed itself between the creature's disfigured shoulder blades. The orc slumped against the door and I raced up to him, grabbing the handle of my hatchet and pulling, the creature rearing back in agony. I ran the keen edge of my sword across its throat and wrenched the hatchet free with a squelch.
I stepped away in time to stop his black blood from coating my boots and to see Halr grab his orc by its twisted belt and a portion of its chest armour. He tossed the creature – like, he literally threw an orc that was twice his size – and the shrieking beast went out the open door, through the back of the apparently flimsy lift and into the open air beyond. It screamed and screamed and then there was nothing.
I had a fleeting thought that perhaps it might land on Mimf and then smiled wryly to myself. Hardly the glorious end one might envision.
"I think we're terrible at 'the element of surprise,'" Skaan said with a grin of admiration for Halr who dusted his hands off quite casually with a smug look on his face. Skaan's own orc had its head caved in with its own mace and Kier was placidly leaning against one of the chairs his orcs had previously occupied. He wiped the blood and gore off of his blade on the edge of the seat before standing tall and rolling his shoulders.
"Shall we?" Kier said, stepping to the door and opening it. He held it, waving me through with a bow and a cheeky grin. "My lady," he said.
"How gallant of you," I replied, sarcasm lacing my words as he smirked at me. This banter was good; it normalised what was happening, making it bearable. We were siblings; we were not meant to take each other seriously. When the sun rose and fell with Kier and I getting along the whole while it would mark the end of all things.
I did, however, feel infinitely safer as he moved in behind me, watching my back as he had always done. My brother may be the obstinate, hot-headed fool of our duo - not to say that I wasn't too far behind on these accounts- but I was always the first to jump into trouble and the last to be dragged out. Kier was too easy-going for that. It probably helped that he had a hide thicker than a troll's.
We moved quickly through the narrow stone halls, Halr providing the rear guard for us. The tension inside that watch tower was so thick you could've cut it with a soup ladle. They knew we were here by now. They had to know. We had caused quite the raucous down below.
Their awareness of our presence became less a speculation and more a known fact when we moved out of the lower levels and into what must have been the main hall. The doors all along the hall were open and orcs sprang from them, shutting them tight before running at us and attacking on all sides. Our only way out was back until one of the orcs managed to get past us and slam the door behind us closed. We were trapped.
There were five of them, all very heavily armoured and with weapons forged from iron and steel, not the twisted catastrophes that their kind usually wielded.
One of them was an archer and I went straight for him, knowing that it would be of the greatest help. If we were pinned down the solitary archer could take us all out very quickly indeed.
I cursed as he moved backwards, remaining out of the range of my blade. He had an entire hallway at his back and could just keep pinging arrows at me until my luck ran out. There was just no way I could get close enough to use my sword unless one of his legs decided to spontaneously pop off, which, sadly, didn't look altogether likely. And he was cunning this one, he had seen my hatchet, held low in my hand and ready to throw at the slightest opportunity. He stayed well back, too far for me to have any chance of throwing it. It was too heavy.
I stopped in the middle of the hall, breathing sharply through my nose and wincing as an arrow hit my chest plate and ricocheted down the hall. I stowed my hatchet back at my belt and drew forth a knife from the dual sheaths at my lower back. I swear I saw the orc's eyes narrow beneath his closed-visored helm.
I threw the knife with all the strength of my arm and hoped for the best. The two knives I carried were designed for parrying and close-quarters fighting but could still be thrown if you knew how to work their balance into you favour. Just not with any great amount of accuracy. I cursed as the knife skimmed over the orc's pauldron, the throw gone awry. The arrow that he had been about to release hit the flat of my low-slung sword, flicking up and raking a shallow cut across my hip.
I cursed again, more vehemently as pain sparked through my hip and threw the other knife. The orc saw my movement, the accuracy of the throw and spooked, flapping an arm in front of his chest. My shot, which had been true this time, was forced downwards by a lucky wave of his arm, plunging into the orc's thigh, just above the knee. If only my mother could have heard my curses then! I would not have had to concern myself with orcs trying to kill me.
I ran towards the creature with a yell and sword drawn high, reaching him just as he pulled the knife from his leg and flung my blade somewhere over his shoulder with a snarl of pain. Oh how he regretted that but a moment later when my sword arced around and cleaved his head from his shoulders.
I turned quickly, surveying the final stages of the fight between the others and began to examine the dark shadows of the hall for any glimmer of my knives.
"Khayl!" my brother called desperately. I whirled around spasmodically, my veins still burning with adrenalin. My brother was gesturing madly for my immediate presence and I forced myself to abandon my knives knowing that there just wasn't enough time. Already the tramp of many armoured feet pounded towards us. I ran towards Kier and our companions, Skaan sporting a nasty slash across the length of his right cheekbone and Halr flexing his right wrist uncomfortably.
"They're coming from both ways!" Skaan called anxiously, looking to Kier who was undoubtedly the rock in our stormy ocean. Halr shifted nervously and I felt a series of jitters run through my body. Calm, calm, calm, I chanted to myself.
"Where do we go?" I asked. We couldn't go down as we had no signal to give Mimf and we couldn't stay on this floor as we were about to be overrun by beasties.
"Up, of course!" Kier replied before running to the nearest door and flinging it open, revealing a narrow flight of circular stairs. I would have had to laugh if it had of been a kitchen or something.
"Convenient," I grunted as we surged forward, running upwards and around and around in a circle. I thought I might hate running by this point, but the burn in my legs and my chest was familiar, reminiscent of a childhood that I would always look back on rather fondly.
"Good fortune," my brother offered instead, preferring to think on the brighter side of things. But I could see the fear in his eyes. We had hunted in the wilderness together enough times to know exactly what was going on.
We were being boxed in.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. If so, I would appreciate hearing your thoughts.
Also, thank you ever so much to Dalonega Noquisi, Celebrisilweth, OFBLOODANDROSES, Sneaky Turtle, Knowing Grace and kimberlybluebelle for expressing your interest.