The sun barely pierced the thick blanket of storm clouds that hovered over Vallendale as the armies of men prepared for the inevitable. On the walls of the city, soldiers donned their armour, strapped on their swords, and made final checks of their bows and arrows. The Iron Brotherhood, now battle-hardened veterans of countless skirmishes, stood among them, ready to face what would be the greatest battle of their lives.
Gabriel stood atop the city walls, his eyes fixed on the dark line of the orc army gathering on the horizon. It was a sea of green and black, stretching as far as he could see. His hands gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, and beside him, Jareth scanned the enemy lines with a grim expression.
"They're more organized than I thought," Jareth muttered. "This isn't going to be easy."
Gabriel nodded, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Grulak the Devourer among the orc ranks. The massive warlord stood at the centre of the horde, his massive frame clad in black armour, a wicked axe hanging from his side. The sight of him sent a wave of fury through Gabriel, reminding him of the vow he had made all those years ago.
"This is it," Gabriel said quietly, his voice tense with anticipation. "We've prepared for this. Now, we fight."
The sound of war horns echoed through the air, signalling the beginning of the battle. The orc army began to advance, their war cries rising in unison as they charged toward the walls of Vallendale.
From the walls, archers released a volley of arrows, the sky darkening with the swarm of projectiles aimed at the charging horde. Many orcs fell, their bodies littering the ground before they even reached the walls, but still they came, their ranks unbroken. Siege towers creaked forward, monstrous wooden constructions pushed by brute orc strength, and behind them, catapults flung rocks and burning debris toward the city.
Gabriel glanced down at the soldiers manning the ballistae and trebuchets along the walls. "Keep firing!" he shouted, his voice rising above the chaos. "Don't let them reach the gates!"
The city's defences roared into action. Huge stones and bolts launched from the siege engines, crashing into the advancing orcs and their war machines. One of the orc siege towers collapsed in a heap of shattered wood and metal, but more took its place.
As the orcs reached the base of the walls, the clang of steel echoed through the air. Grappling hooks flew up, catching on the battlements, and orcs began to scale the walls with terrifying speed. Gabriel drew his sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light as he braced for the inevitable clash.
The first orc to crest the wall met Gabriel's sword in a flash of steel, the creature's head severed in a single clean strike. Blood sprayed across the stone, and Gabriel stepped forward, cutting down another before it could even find its footing.
"Hold the walls!" Jareth bellowed, his own sword cutting through the orc invaders. The Iron Brotherhood fought with practiced precision, their blades flashing as they repelled the attackers. But for every orc they killed, another took its place, and the enemy continued to surge upward.
The battle raged on for hours. The air was thick with the stench of blood and sweat, and the sound of clashing steel filled Gabriel's ears. His muscles burned, but he fought on, fuelled by the memory of his village, of his parents, and of the promise he had made long ago.
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As the day wore on, the walls of Vallendale groaned under the strain of the siege. One section of the wall, weakened by the constant bombardment from the orc catapults, began to crumble. With a deafening crash, a section collapsed, creating a gap that the orcs rushed to exploit.
"Fall back!" Gabriel shouted as he saw the breach. "We can't hold them here!"
The defenders scrambled to regroup, retreating from the walls and forming a shield wall near the inner gates. The orcs flooded into the city, their savage war cries echoing through the streets as they clashed with the soldiers and the Brotherhood.
Gabriel stood at the centre of the defence, his sword gleaming as he parried and struck with deadly precision. The fighting was brutal, the orcs relentless, but slowly, the tide began to shift. With every swing of his sword, Gabriel felt the gods' blessing coursing through him, bolstering his strength, guiding his hand.
It was then that he saw Grulak, towering over the battlefield like a giant among men. The warlord cut a swathe through the defenders, his massive axe cleaving through steel and bone with ease. Gabriel's heart pounded in his chest as he locked eyes with the orc chieftain.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
With a roar, Gabriel broke from the defensive line and charged toward Grulak. Jareth, seeing his friend's intent, tried to call out, but it was too late—Gabriel was already upon him.
Their blades met with a thunderous crash, sparks flying as steel struck steel. Grulak grinned, baring his yellowed teeth, and swung his axe with terrifying force. Gabriel barely blocked the blow, the impact sending a shockwave through his arms. The orc was stronger than he had imagined.
"You'll die like the rest of them, human!" Grulak sneered, pressing his advantage.
But Gabriel had faced worse than this. He had defeated the Devourer. He had fought demons and monsters, and he had survived. With a snarl, he ducked under Grulak's next swing and drove his sword into the orc's side.
Grulak howled in pain but did not fall. The chieftain swung his axe again, and this time, the blade grazed Gabriel's shoulder, slicing through armour and flesh. Gabriel staggered, blood flowing freely from the wound, but he refused to back down.
"You took everything from me!" Gabriel shouted, his voice filled with rage. "Now, I take everything from you!"
With a final surge of strength, Gabriel sidestepped Grulak's next attack and thrust his sword upward, driving it deep into the orc's chest. Grulak's eyes widened in shock as the blade pierced his heart. He gasped, his massive frame shaking as blood poured from the wound.
The orc warlord collapsed to his knees, his axe slipping from his grip. Gabriel stood over him, breathing heavily, his sword still buried in the chieftain's chest.
"It's over," Gabriel whispered, pulling his sword free. Grulak's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
For a moment, the battlefield fell silent. The orcs, seeing their leader fall, hesitated. Then, as if in response to some unseen signal, they began to retreat, pulling back from the city in an orderly fashion. The defenders, exhausted but victorious, watched in disbelief as the orc army withdrew.
"They're retreating," Jareth said, wiping blood from his brow as he approached Gabriel. "But not in panic. This isn't over."
Gabriel nodded, his chest heaving. "They're regrouping. We need to follow them before they can strike again."
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The orc army withdrew from the battlefield in disciplined ranks, a testament to Grulak's leadership even in death. Gabriel and the Iron Brotherhood led a contingent of Vallendale's soldiers in pursuit, tracking the retreating orcs through the northern wilderness.
They moved cautiously, knowing the danger of falling into an ambush, but the trail was clear. As they neared a dense forest, Gabriel signalled for a halt.
"They're up ahead," Gabriel said quietly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "This is where they'll make their stand."
Jareth nodded grimly. "Let's finish this."
With weapons drawn and resolve steeled, the Iron Brotherhood pressed forward, ready for the final confrontation with the remnants of the orc horde. Gabriel's promise for vengeance was nearly complete, but the battle wasn't over yet.