We raced down the winding steps of the temple's secret escape route with a grim focus. Still, I could not help but be distracted by a consuming guilt; Elena was dead because of me. If only I had not hesitated, maybe she could have avoided a much stronger shield to protect herself or maybe flee in another part of the temple and away from the rampaging army coming our way. A part of me screamed in denial. Elena. She had been more than my friend. She was the only one among the cloistered order of the Temple of Fire who ever made any attempt to extend a hand in friendship. She had helped me regain a semblance of a normal life. A life I could only dream about. A life where the yoke of responsibility that came with being part of the Crystal Guardian is nonexistent.
All my life, I was trained and schooled in the ways of the mage and the lore of classical magic. Being a progeny of House Undoloth brought with it a life of unquestioning service to Valeria. As such, once Sylvana and I were deemed capable enough, we were whisked away from our parents and placed under the tutelage of the elder mages. Arielle was too young at that time and at times when my mind turned a bit more melancholy, I thanked the Gods for sparing my beloved youngest sister mine and Sylvana's fate. But now, I am not so sure. Dark times are imminent and I have no idea if the elven lands of Mist would be spared the coming onslaught and the crystal of Air nestled in the great Tower safe from orcish hands.
"Contact! On guard!"
Captain Dragan's bellow, jolted me out of my reverie. The sound of unsheathing swords and war cries terrified me more than I imagined. With my staff clutched tightly in my hands, I craned my neck beyond to look around the cordon of men aroud me. There they were; vestiges of ferocity and barbarism with their broad-bladed swords and scimitars, the orcish host barred the way out of the temple. An orc captain, a hulking mess of green hide and scarring tattoos pushed his way forward. A smug grin adorning his repulsive features and exposing yellowed canines which left little doubt of an orc's reputation for hygiene.
"Ehehehe...end-da da loine, ya gitz. Me and me boyz will be tyke-ing da pwettie loidy and da crystal now," growled the orc warrior in a positively smug tone. He had reason to be; his 'boyz' outnumbered us by almost three to one and they looked fresh and free from battle; at least as fresh as I think an orc can be. The standoff continued in an increasingly tense atmosphere. The glares directed between the two sides were positively explosive. One that could explode at any moment on a hair trigger.
"If you want her, orc, come and get her," spoke Dragan in a show of calm defiance, the captain of the guards altered his defensive posture and stood straight with his shield and sword raised in a taunting gesture. His men followed suit and soon jeers and insults were hurled at the orcish rabble before them.
I had no idea on how to react to this turn of events. Blushing uncontrollably upon hearing a particular guard's colourful description of an orc's mother's sexual preferences, I wondered if the stress of battle had finally taken an effect on the good captain and his men. Even now he was brazen enough to turn his back on the enemy to spur his men on. Looking at me, he gave me a conspiritorial wink and gestured discreetly towards the orcs. As I looked towards them, I realised that we had a chance after all; orcs are warlike in nature and their ingrained aggressiveness are matched only by their notoriously short tempers. Although they might appear intimidating to the average warrior, against battle hardened ones like Captain Dragan and his guards, a berzerking orc is but a mind without a purpose. As such, their effectiveness as a unit plummets drastically. All it took was a little push.
Imagine what a shove can do.
"Come on, orc. Frankly I'm a little disappointed. All bark and no bite. I guess your little 'Waaagh' has turned out to be nothing more than a little meow!"
Snarling in an almost bestial the orc leader was livid with rage. He had reason to be anxious since an orc hierarchy is determined by how assertive one should be. And right now, said orc was not looking too assertive at the moment. Such a position was very dangerous for an orc as anyone standing behind him at the moment may decide to stab him in the back and claim dominance over the rest. Furthermore, I have heard rumours that orcs are known to be cannibalistic.
"Well, uh, dat's becuz you'ze all weak like dem catz...," bellowed the orc leader hesitatingly in a last ditch attempt to gain the intellectual upper hand. Of course, the good captain was going to take full advantage of his foe's inadequacies.
"Oh, that's a good one, Greenskin," mocked Dragan. "Perhaps I'll give you a moment or two and maybe you might come up with a better comeback!"
I had to admit that jab was mercilessly humourous and the fact was not lost on any of us belligerents. I even spotted a few of the 'boyz' chuckling before being silenced by blows to their heads by their leader.
"Enuff talk!" roared the incensed creature. "We'z gettin' dat crystal an' da loidy an' we'z gettin' dem now! Sic'em boyz!"
With a collective roar, the orcs surge forward.
Chapter 4! The story is heading towards more action now as Celesta makes her escape from the temple. Can Dragan and his guards protect her and come out on top? It remains to be seen in the next chapter. More characters coming up. Until next time!
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