Forty-two
My axe fell on another cursed orc head. "40" I let out a short breath of air, the only amusing part of this grim business. Not that I wasn't deriving an immense amount of amusement from lopping the heads of such wretched things as orcs are, contrarily, it was the loss of the life of the innocent that drew a dark gloom over my heart. "41," I swung again, it seemed that every time one fell that another one would replace him before the last breath left his comrade's body. Blood staining my wearied arms and legs I pressed deeper into the fray.
A particularly sturdy orc set himself in my path. Swinging at him, however, my axe was turned away by his collar armor, off balanced it took me a second too long to bring up my weapon once more and I received a bloody knock to the head. With a roar I laid on to the orc twice as madly as before, beginning quickly to feel rather giddy, but not lessening my attack even a single blow.
After a few minutes intensified fray I found myself closely pressed to a crevice in the wall, and as I felt the rock closing in on my two sides I felt a unfamiliar twinge of closeness as the orc swung harder at me once more and my bravado quickly swept out and away from me. I was going to die. The aching of my head doubled and I resigned myself to the last few seconds of fight.
Suddenly the head was gone, the sweaty face of a man of Rohan replacing it, sword stopped momentarily after its killing stroke. Nodding my thanks I wasted no time to dive out once more to where the fray had been. It wasn't there anymore. Orc and human bodies lay piled everywhere, a few letting out piteous moans, surrounded by haggard and warn men barely on their feet.
Running a hand through my now blood matted hair I tried to consider what to do next through a pounding headache and suddenly everyone in the cavern was staring at some space over my left shoulder. Turning slowly my first thought is their must be some other force waiting for us, some orc rabble or other. Instead, I witnessed the proud entry of a white haired young man out of the crevice I had just been trapped in.
"Who are you?" I asked when no body moved for several long seconds, taking several decisive steps forward. I was greeted by a look that clearly showed that he didn't understand. I repeated myself slower, losing some of my patience, why had this lack wit been permitted onto the battle field? And a girl as well, who didn't understand me either by the looks of it, had just appeared, petrified, from behind him. They didn't even look like any kind of locals either, and their clothing was foreign to me.
"Perhaps I can help." A man, specific name unknown to me, had come up beside me and had observed their silence. "Their appearance is strange to me, but I think I can communicate with them." I stepped back, picking at some dried blood in my beard. "You should be getting that looked to." He added, catching sight of the side of my head, apparently worse then it felt considering the flicker of disgust that quivered over his face before he turned away.
"Just a scratch," I muttered gruffly, but took his advice and walked off in search for something to wrap my head with.