The cave was deathly silent except for the crackling of the small fire, its light casting long shadows against the rough stone walls. Gabriel sat with his back to the entrance, his mind drifting through the memories of their crushing defeat. The images of slain comrades, the fallen Iron Brotherhood, haunted his thoughts. Each lost life weighed on him like an anchor tied to his soul. He could still hear their cries, the clash of steel, and the overwhelming tide of orcs that had slaughtered them.
The few survivors huddled close to the fire—Jareth, Silas, and a couple of others—each nursing their wounds in silence. None of them spoke, but the grief in the air was palpable. They had lost so many, and even worse, they had barely made it out alive themselves.
Gabriel had thought the worst was over for now, that they could at least rest and plan their next move in relative safety, but he was wrong.
In the distance, beyond the narrow mountain pass that led to the cave, a horn blew. It was faint at first, low and ominous, but unmistakable. The sound sent a chill through Gabriel's body, immediately pulling him from his thoughts. He exchanged a quick, alarmed glance with Jareth.
"The orcs," Jareth muttered, his face growing pale.
Gabriel stood, his sword instantly in his hand. "They're tracking us. They must've followed our trail from the battlefield."
Silas cursed under his breath, standing up with a pained groan. "We can't fight them here, not in the open."
"We won't fight them," Gabriel said, his voice hard. "We run."
Without hesitation, they quickly packed what little they had. The fire was snuffed out, and Gabriel led the group out of the cave, into the cold mountain night. The horn sounded again, closer this time. Gabriel could feel the ground tremble beneath his feet as the orc warband closed in.
The narrow mountain path offered little protection, jagged cliffs rising on both sides, with only the winding trail ahead. Gabriel's eyes darted around, searching for any escape route, but the terrain was unforgiving. Behind them, the unmistakable sounds of the orc warband—war cries, the heavy thud of boots, the clatter of armour—echoed through the pass.
Jareth came up beside him, his voice tense. "We can't outrun them forever. These mountains are too exposed."
Gabriel nodded grimly. "I know. But if we can reach the southern ridge, we might find a way down into the forest. They won't be able to track us as easily there."
Jareth gripped his bow tighter, scanning the path ahead. "Let's hope we make it that far."
The group moved quickly, but the terrain slowed them down. The rocks were loose, and the trail was treacherous. Every step felt like it could be their last, but there was no time to stop, no time to rest. Behind them, the orcs were getting closer, their guttural shouts growing louder by the minute.
Suddenly, Silas stumbled, his face twisted in pain as he clutched his side. Gabriel quickly caught him before he fell. "We need to keep moving," Gabriel urged, his voice sharp with urgency. "We're almost to the ridge."
"I'm fine," Silas grunted, though his face told a different story. The wound he'd taken during the retreat had been deep, and while Silas had insisted on continuing, Gabriel could see it was taking its toll.
They pressed on, their pace growing more frantic as the sound of orc war drums echoed across the mountains. Gabriel's heart pounded in his chest. They couldn't afford to be caught out here—not now, not after everything they'd survived.
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As they reached the southern ridge, the path began to open up, leading into a steep descent that would eventually take them into the forest below. Relief briefly washed over Gabriel, but it was short-lived. At that moment, a horn blast echoed from above.
Gabriel spun around just in time to see the orc warband crest the ridge behind them. Dozens of orcs, armed to the teeth, descended like a wave of death. At their front, an enormous orc general, clad in spiked armour and wielding a massive war axe, roared a command that sent the others charging forward.
"Run!" Gabriel shouted, but it was too late.
The orcs closed in too fast. Arrows whistled through the air, striking one of the Iron Brotherhood members in the back. He crumpled to the ground with a grunt, lifeless before he hit the rocky trail.
Gabriel turned to face the oncoming horde, sword drawn. "Jareth, Silas, go! I'll hold them off!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Jareth yelled, drawing his sword as well, but Gabriel gave him a hard shove toward the others.
"Go! Now! Get to the forest!"
With a reluctant snarl, Jareth complied, sprinting toward the trees, pulling Silas and the remaining member with him. Gabriel stayed behind, his blade gleaming in the moonlight, his heart racing as the orcs closed in.
The first orc lunged at him, and Gabriel met the attack head-on. His sword clashed against the orc's axe, sending sparks flying. With a swift movement, Gabriel twisted his blade and cut deep into the orc's side, dropping it with a gurgling cry. Another came at him, and Gabriel ducked under its swing, driving his sword up into the orc's chest. The creature fell to the ground, dead.
But there were too many.
An orc swung a massive club at Gabriel's side, and though he managed to deflect it, the force sent him stumbling back. He gritted his teeth, pain flaring through his ribs as he struggled to keep his balance. The orc general charged at him next, swinging his war axe with brutal force. Gabriel barely had time to parry the blow, the impact sending a shockwave through his arms.
The general grinned, a cruel smile that showed his yellowed teeth. "You're strong, human," the orc growled. "But you die here."
Gabriel said nothing, his jaw clenched as he prepared for the next attack. But before the general could strike again, a sudden barrage of arrows flew through the air, striking the orcs from above. Gabriel's heart leapt—Jareth.
From the ridge above, Jareth stood with his bow drawn, unleashing arrow after arrow at the orcs. The sudden onslaught broke their momentum, and several of the orcs fell, clutching at the arrows that pierced their armour.
"Gabriel!" Jareth shouted. "Now!"
Gabriel didn't need to be told twice. He turned and sprinted toward the forest, narrowly avoiding another swing from the orc general. As he ran, he could hear the orc warband regrouping, their roars of fury echoing behind him.
The trees loomed closer, the shadows of the forest swallowing the path ahead. Gabriel dove into the cover of the trees just as Jareth caught up to him, his breathing laboured.
"They'll be right behind us," Jareth said between breaths, glancing back toward the ridge.
"I know," Gabriel replied, wiping sweat and blood from his brow. "But we'll lose them in the forest."
Silas and the others were waiting for them just beyond the treeline, their faces etched with worry. Gabriel motioned for them to keep moving, and together they plunged deeper into the forest, the orc warband hot on their trail.
---
Hours later, after a gruelling chase through the dense wilderness, they finally managed to lose the orcs. Exhausted, wounded, and barely able to stand, they collapsed in a small clearing deep within the mountains.
The night was silent again, save for the distant howls of wolves.
Jareth sat beside Gabriel, panting heavily. "We can't keep running like this forever, Gabriel."
Gabriel nodded grimly. "I know."
Silas, though weak, managed to summon a small flame to warm them as they gathered around it, the flickering light casting shadows on their battered faces.
For now, they had survived. But Gabriel knew the orcs wouldn't stop. They had seen too much, and the orc capital wasn't going to allow any witnesses. Their time was running out, and with every passing hour, the threat loomed closer.
"We need to find the others," Gabriel said, his voice hoarse. "The few that escaped. We need to regroup."
Jareth looked at him, the weight of the situation settling over both of them. "If there are any others left."
Gabriel's heart sank, but he refused to let despair take hold. "We'll find them," he said. "We have to."
As the fire crackled softly and the night grew colder, Gabriel looked out into the darkness, his mind filled with the memories of the battle, of the friends they had lost, and the promise of vengeance that still burned in his chest.
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
They would fight again.