Tenacity
The mists were fading. Ciara could see more clearly across the vale in which Settlestone was situated. But she could not see far enough to descry the bridge Kyner said he would be defending, nor the pass. A handful of bloodied Uthgardt warriors had arrived about an hour ago. From others, Ciara learned that Selinde had led them, but elected to guard the pass instead of returning to Settlestone with the others. Waiting. Ciara was tired of waiting.
She stood guard with a number of dwarves along the palisade wall that now surrounded Settlestone, the product of a night hard spent while King Gandalug of Mithral Hall, Chieftain Berkthgar of the Uthgardt, Kyner, and a number of other officers discussed battle plans. Kyner told Ciara that everyone had been hard-pressed to convince the Uthgardt to not meet the orcish legions on an open field, and barely convinced them. On slightly higher ground behind the war parties, like the one Ciara was a part of, stood the dwarven crossbowmen and Uthgardt bowmen. Heavily armored priests and robed wizards wandered the perimeter. Everyone was waiting.
A column of flame fell from the sky to consume several dozen orcs who were trying to pile on top of each other in order to reach the parapet over the gate.
"You'd think they would have learned after the fourth time not to try that again," Kyner commented.
"These are the blasted most stupid bloody arsed orcs I've ever lain eyes upon," responded one of the most foul mouthed priests Kyner had ever met; all the while crossbowmen continued to shoot bolts down onto the orcs as they futilely beat at the gates. In the past three hours the crossbowmen had already emptied their quivers several times. It was fortunate that a large number of replacement bolts had been brought.
Then, Kyner noticed the orcs breaking off their assault on the gate and clearing a path that probably went from the gate to the Moonwood.
"That can't be a good omen," Kovar rasped. Then the ground began to shake and the orcs groveled.
"Gods help us," Kyner muttered, while the giant itself was obscured, the movement in the mists hinted at its size. If Kyner guessed right, the parapet only reached to the top of the giant's chest.
"It had to be a bloody frost giant too," Kovar muttered as it drew closer.
Kyner turned to address the dwarves, "Crossbowmen, priests, move to the inner gate parapet. Melee combatants, back away from the outer gates and expect them to be broken shortly."
Turning back, Kyner saw the giant rapidly approaching with earthshaking steps, brandishing a hammer with a head the size of a wagon, a cloud of icy mist bellowed from its mouth with every breath.
The inner gate swung open as the crossbowmen evacuated the outer parapet. Kyner descended to the bridge and stood at the fore of the melee combatants, all of whom were armed with spears, axes or war-hammers, and broad shields.
"Kovar, stand on the inner parapet. Leave the gates open and be ready to retreat if the giant tries to come through. If something happens, don't wait for us."
"Aye, understood. I'll get to it then," Kovar replied boisterously as he went to carry out his orders.
The gates buckled as the giant laid the first stroke of his hammer upon it. Kyner closed the visor of his helm and drew his great sword. The mist seemed thicker on the floor of the bridge. Today is certainly an ugly day to die. The giant's second swing splintered the gate. Kyner tightened his grip on Issgar's hilt when, after another swing the gate began to break open. With the next swing the fractured gates burst open, and orcs began to spill onto the bridge.
Kyner brought his sword down into a trailing guard position at his side and charged at the orcs, with dozens of dwarven spearmen at his back. The orcs charged with lowered polearms, a mixture of halberds, spears, tridents, pole-axes and others.
Kyner met the orcs with a broad-arced rising cut that severed the heads of the closest polearms. The next swing cut through orcish leather as if it were nothing more than cloth, to say nothing of what lay beneath. Dwarven tower shields and armor warded away any but the most direct strikes by orcish polearms while orcish armor was as easily pierced as cut. Kyner delivered powerful strikes with his great sword that hewed armor, flesh, and weapons while at the same time staying close to the protective hedge of dwarven spears.
The onslaught soon relented in its fervor and the orcs began to retreat. Brandishing spears, several dwarves charged after the fleeing orcs.
"Get back here you bloody fools," Kyner barked above the clamor of the retreating orcs, "we hold the line here! If you give chase you will find yourself facing the entire horde. Now reform the line!"
A running orc tripped when its foot was caught by a crag in the rocky pass. The orc fell and looked up only in time to see the bright elven blade that severed his head. Selinde hardly slowed as she continued to pursue the routed orcs through the pass, cutting down all the stragglers that got in her way, the others were slain by charging barbarians with no less enthusiasm.
Then the pass opened and the orcs parted to either side. As the fleeing orcs split, Selinde saw what she should have expected, rows of orcish archers who unleashed a hail of arrows at their taskmaster's bellow.
As the volley of arrows descended a rough hand pulled Selinde to the ground and she found herself beneath the round shield of an Uthgardt barbarian. Half a dozen arrows pierced the shield and countless others fell unnervingly close. The elven woman gasped when an arrow perforated the shield, its tip poised mere inches above her face.
The barbarian lowered his shield and stood. Selinde came to her feet to see that a group of armored figures, much too tall to be orcs, were approaching with confident ease. A quick glance revealed that barely a dozen of the fifty or so barbarians that she had charged with were still standing. Selinde and the Uthgardt slowly backed away from the advancing figures, who wielded all manner of weapons, from great swords to war hammers.
"It seems our fury has gotten the better of us," the tall barbarian said.
I'm responsible for this. An even worse blunder than before.
"We can't hold here," Selinde said, "retreat!"
Outnumbered, the barbarians turned and ran. One of the armored foes bellowed a warcry and many of the enormous warriors broke ranks to give chase. Looking over her shoulder, Selinde saw that her pursuers were rapidly gaining, with their enormous legs, the armored warriors could cover ground much more quickly than even the tall barbarians.
One of the Uthgardt had apparently reached the same conclusion and ran into a cleft in the pass. Hoping that it would lead somewhere, Selinde followed, and heard a few other Uthgardt behind her. The cleft was wide; wide enough, Selinde feared, for the armored warriors to follow. While the path made a few turns, there were no divergences, and the walls were too sheer to scale. Selinde ran into the warrior she had followed. He had stopped at a slight widening in the cleft.
"We can fight them here," he said.
Four other Uthgardt arrived seconds after Selinde.
"They are close behind," said one of them.
"We should keep running," Selinde advised.
"And then what? Just die out of breath instead of fighting?"
"Does this path not narrow?" Selinde asked.
"No," said the warrior who had first run into it, "it widens not far from here."
"Then it is better to fight than to wait for them to catch up," the elven woman admitted.
"They come," said the barbarian who had saved Selinde as he hefted his war axe.
Three of the armored warriors were charging through the cleft, though they could not even stand two abreast. The first of the enemy warriors wielded a war hammer and a broad shield. The nearest Uthgardt thrust his spear at the foe but it deflected the spear with its shield and bashed the Uthgardt with its hammer, flinging the warrior's mangled body against the cleft wall.
Selinde tried to maneuver her way forward but the armored foe had already brought its hammer down on another Uthgardt, splintering his shield and then delivering the death blow. But the next Uthgardt to face the armored juggernaut ducked under the swing of the hammer and delivered a strike with his own mace, staggering his adversary. Seizing his opportunity, the Uthgardt rained blow after blow on the creature's chest and it began to fall backward.
Then Selinde watched with horror as a spear erupted from the defeated foe's chest and perforated the warrior who had slain it. The spear was promptly withdrawn and a new enemy shoved aside the corpses of the brave Uthgardt warrior and his own dead ally. Selinde brandished her sword and met the armored warrior's all-metal spear with elven steel. The weapons rung discordantly on impact, the elven and fell weapons seemed to dislike each other as much as their masters. The creature freed its spear and, being too close to attempt to run Selinde through, was satisfied with bashing her with the shaft.
The elf was knocked against the wall but retained her balance and avoided the opportunistic sword of the armored creature behind the one she was fighting. Still, she couldn't avoid it when her foe slammed the shaft of its spear against her neck, choking her. Pressed against the wall, Selinde struggled vainly. Then an axe fell before her eyes and clove her enemy's arm off at the elbow, dark green blood from the wound sprayed onto Selinde's cloak and mail.
The armored creature bellowed a cry of pain and the elven woman added to that anguish by driving her sword through a soft spot in the creature's armor, a gap just above the knee cop. Selinde's blade perforated the knee and reached the back of the calf before she withdrew it. But the elven woman didn't have time to gloat over her victory as the creature fell back against the cleft wall. Her final armored nemesis attacked with its great sword.
After ducking under the massive sword, Selinde surged forward and made to impale her opponent but her sword, keen as it was, merely glanced off her foe's breastplate. The armored creature raised its sword and, not having enough room to make a swing, tried to bash Selinde with the pommel. Instead, the elf darted behind her opponent.
Selinde was raising her sword for an attack when a spear point burst from her foe's backplate. When the vanquished creature fell, Selinde saw the two remaining Uthgardt warriors on the other side, one of them held the spear that had recently been used by one of the black-armored warriors.
"I would keep that spear," Selinde advised, "so far as we've seen, it's the only thing that can pierce their armor."
"I intend to," the Uthgardt responded. The other barbarian had doffed his shield and mace to pick up the war hammer of the other armored warrior, apparently the weapon was too large to be used by a single hand.
Selinde took a brief look down at the great sword dropped by the last enemy to fall, but could tell that it was far too heavy for her to wield. Curious, Selinde pulled the helm off the warrior she was standing over. Beneath was a half-ogre's face. Stepping over the corpses of the armored warriors, Selinde saw the body of an Uthgardt warrior. His shield had been rent apart and he still clung to his battle axe. The one who shielded me from the arrows only minutes ago.
"What is this warrior's name?" Selinde asked.
"His name is Burian," said one of the Uthgardt.
"He met his end well," said the other.
"As has everyone today," Selinde said softly. Sehanine Moonbow guide you on your journey to what lies beyond this world, Burian.
"We ought to be going, we can come back and bury these men later."
"We should check the pass," Selinde decided.
Selinde and the remaining two Uthgardt, Tibor, and Rezar, approached the pass quietly, and could hear the clamor of activity coming from it. Scores of orcs were being driven down the pass, urged on by curses and whips. They were all too busy to notice the two Uthgardt and the elf watching them.
"I don't see any more half-ogres," observed Rezar.
"Indeed," said Selinde, "we need to get back to Settlestone."
Tibor laughed.
"What's so funny?" asked Selinde.
"We're on the wrong side of the pass," said Tibor.
"Maybe you should have thought of that before you ran into this cleft," said Rezar.
"I saw an opportunity and I took it," Tibor replied, "If you want, you can try and run across to the other side."
Selinde tried to remember what she could of the pass, it was the very one she, Kyner and Ciara had descended only yesterday.
"Tibor, Rezar," the two stopped bickering for a moment and faced Selinde, "you two know this pass well?"
"We've lived here for some time," Rezar said.
"When I was descending this pass the other day I saw a dangerous looking group of rocks on the way down. I must admit, I was afraid that they might choose to crash down on the convoy I was traveling with at any moment."
"Rock falls are not uncommon here," said Tibor.
"Big ones?" asked Selinde.
Tibor seemed to understand where Selinde was going, "Big enough to cause some trouble to those orcs," he said with a smile.
"Maintain ranks and you will survive!" Kyner shouted above the din of orcish warcries. The dwarves had maintained close formation, a wall of spears upon which the orcs broke like water while Kyner's great sword held orcish polearms at bay. Thank the gods these fool orcs have no pikes, thought Kyner. A mound of orcish bodies lay on the bridge's center. For, after every bout, the dwarves withdrew to the flanks of the bridge, so that they were not fighting on top of corpses during the next orcish charge. Only a handful of dwarves had fallen, and Kyner intended to keep it that way.
The orcs were making another charge. Whether motivated by the whips of their taskmasters or bloodlust, they tore recklessly across the bridge. Kyner hefted Issgar and the dwarves lowered their spears in readiness.
"Charge!" Kyner bellowed.
At the head of the dwarven formation, Kyner delivered the first strike to welcome the newest oricsh party to try and take the bridge. Issgar fell heavily in a descending cut that decapitated orcish polearms and orcs themselves. Most of the orcs were impaled on the hedge of dwarven spears, since only a few of them had weapons long enough to reach past those spears, let alone around their shields.
As had happened during every other orcish charge, the orcs realized their efforts were futile and ceased advancing in spite of the whips of their taskmasters. Many of them threw their weapons at the dwarves, but those clattered harmlessly off dwarven armor and shields. The dwarven formation steadily advanced and the orcs were forced to retreat until they found themselves being attacked by their taskmasters. During all of this, crossbow bolts rained on them from the inner parapet. Violently, the orc grunts would finally turn on their own masters until there was no one left standing to oppose the dwarves.
The orcs had already tried to bring in archers to bring down the dwarves, but their bows had proven to be too weak to penetrate dwarven armor, and Kyner could merely take cover among the dwarves until the orcs ran out of arrows. Apparently, the giant in charge had decided orcs were cheaper than arrows. It was not the first time Kyner had encountered such wanton disrespect for life on the part of a commander. The air on the bridge was even more thick with the smell of orcish dead once the latest batch finally retreated.
"Kyner!" shouted Kovar from the top of the inner parapet.
Kyner turned to face the dwarven hundredman, "yes?"
"A messenger just arrived, the pass is fallen."
"Blood-soaked hells," Kyner cursed, "Kovar, get the crossbowmen down from the parapet and run to the ruin! Do not stop until you are there! Formation," Kyner addressed the melee combatants with him, "ranks one and two will stay here with me. Everyone else, the devils are at your heels and Settlestone needs every dwarf and man to defend it. I am honored to have fought with you, now move!"
With everyone else rapidly moving to escape, Kyner spoke to those who were staying with him, "I admire your discipline, all of you. We will stay here to buy our friends time but I assure you, I have no intention of dying here today. We will cover their escape for as long as is necessary."
Seeing their enemies in flight, the orcs were quick to mount another offensive. But it was something different this time. Several orcs pushed a wagon onto the bridge or, more accurately, a cage on wheels. Inside were a great number of worgs, gnashing their teeth at the orcs pushing them and trying to bite at them through the bars.
They were waiting to use them, thought Kyner, beasts are too valuable to waste, unlike orcs. An orc opened the cage gate facing the dwarves and the worgs tore out of the cage. The orc was too slow to get out of their way and a hungry worg promptly hamstrung him while others set upon his neck. But the majority of the worgs recklessly charged at the dwarves. Whether by instinct or some kind of thought process, the animals formed a wedge as they ran, with the largest ones in the middle.
As they closed, Kyner was able to appreciate the size of these beasts, each of them was at least three times the size of a wolf, and their red eyes glared balefully.
The front line of worgs gored themselves on the dwarven spears and Kyner's great sword but the animals were hardly phased. More worgs leapt over the bodies of their fallen and often landed inside the dwarven formation. The hedge of spears crumbled as dwarves had to abandon their spears for axes, swords, or hammers.
Issgar hacked through worg skin as easily as through orc armor, but the dwarven spears were not so effective. The worgs were so maddened with animal bloodlust that they continued to struggle even after being perforated. After Kyner hewed the head off the worg that was attacking him, he saw a new contingent of orcs charging across the bridge, yelling battlecries in their guttural tongue.
Looking over his shoulder, Kyner saw that the dwarves were too few for the new onslaught. The worgs may have been slaughtered in the process, but they had broken the formation.
All of the companies had been called to readiness. Ciara stood with the dwarves along the palisade wall, and could do nothing but watch as scores of barbarians and dwarves ran across the field and toward the Ruin's gate, their flanks harried by orcish arrows.
A leaden weight had settled in Ciara's gut. She had heard that the pass had fallen, and that the bridge was cut off. But Kyner is still alive, I am certain of it. Yet that feeling helped little when Ciara did not see her foster-father among those coming to the ruin. The field began to swarm with orcs as they pored down from the pass. With tongue and whip, the orcish overseers goaded their thralls into a semi-circle facing the hastily built defenses of the ruin.
"Thousands of them," muttered one of the dwarves beside Ciara, "and more coming."
"Look up, you," ordered his sergeant, and even louder, "one stout dwarf is worth a dozen scrawny mountain orcs. What makes a soldier?" the sergeant loudly demanded of his men.
"Discipline!" responded the troop.
"Truth. Armed with temperaments of iron and cold steel, the orcs will break upon us like waves on a rocky cliff. To no avail!"
"Strength of arms, solidarity of purpose," the troop intoned.
Wailing a chorus of profane warcries, the orcs began their uneven charge. The mages atop the monolithic towers of settlestone began their casting. Fireballs and lightning bolts descended on the horde, scattering the bodies of orcs like insects.
But still they came, and some distance behind the orcs walked a tower of a figure with frost billowing from its maw.