CHAP 4.
Tialen reached the frontline base. He then told the nearest commander Jaina's message, including those of celebration. An errant dwarf caught ear of their conversation and quickly spread the word.
Within minutes there was a murmur among the warriors. The dwarf climbed one of the Orc watchtowers. The sight of a small but muscular frame trying to negotiate the poles of the construction was peculiar, indeed. When he reached the top, he shouted.
"There'll be ale for all! The scourge has been vanquished! Tonight we feast and drink! Ale for all!" Immediately there was uproar. The Orcs let out a bellow. Their deep powerful voices rattled Tialen's bones. The humans then let out a cheer and raised their arms in the air. The Dwarves were the most energetic of all. Tialen couldn't believe that, being so short and stocky, some of them could actually perform acrobatics. The elves, both night and white, were relatively calm. Both were overjoyed that they had eliminated all traces of the scourge, but they didn't display their emotions so fervently. The warriors mingled with one another, except for the elves, and ale was distributed within them. Tialen found some humor in that Orcs did not enjoy the taste of the dwarven drink. Whenever one attempted to partake of it he quickly spat it out and attempted to find water for his massive tongue. All was well in the camp, at last.
Tialen decided to find a barracks, where he could bathe and refresh himself. On his way he noticed an event stirring at a local campfire. Two, very inebriated dwarves were conversing. Their noses had already turned a shade of bright red.
" Aye, this reminds me of the victory we had on Khaz Modan". One said.
" Yes, remember the jodi we sung through the night." The other replied jollily.
" No, but let's sing it anyway". The dwarves erupted in song. Tialen doubted if they were singing any actual words, but it was a somewhat pleasant melody. Immediately an Orc approached the pair. He grinned and from his large tusked mouth came a sweet baritone voice. It harmonized, somehow with the dwarves' voices. Eventually a cabal of warriors surrounded the three. They produced stringed instruments, drums, and even Elven flutes. As the races of warriors played and sang together they sounded like the screeching of one the Undead's howling specters, but their collective melodies and harmonies eventually came together to produce one beautiful song. They played deep serenades, eloquent minuets, and powerful boleros into the night.
Sound of the makeshift orchestra reverberated inside the barracks as Tialen sifted through his unclean hair. To him the shower felt as refreshing and soothing as being immersed in a fresh spring. He let the blood wash of his right hand to expose a half inch deep and long wound. His hand winced as the water seeped in but he knew that he should at least attempt to clean it. The blood filled the drain but quickly washed out. He was fortunate to have such a minor wound but it still pained him greatly. He turned off the feed coming from strange goblin built device, which could siphon ground water, and proceeded to towel off. Tialen opened the door to and stepped amongst the gathering of unsanitary men wishing to spruce up. The strong stench of B.O. brought to mind the phrase the stronger you are the stronger you smell. The musk of the warriors could still not compare to the agony his hand caused, but it was not broken so he knew that a healer would not tend to it. Even the odd and sometimes flaky medics of the trolls had more important operations to perform, like setting and repairing limbs. Luckily the barracks had a supply of first aid supplies, and Tialen quickly found a stash outside of the bathing area. Inexperienced with bandages the young soldier barely managed to cover his hand with medical tape and gauze, but it at least stopped up the bleeding. Bandaged and bathed he then things to do amongst the camp.