“I don’t suppose that’s just a ruckus dance tune?” Myran asks beside me. The elf was among the last to successfully cross the chasm.

Those elven bodies sure don’t take to rock climbing.

“Reinforcements are coming,” Iagz says. “The drums are always a precursor to more orcs.”

“Well, that’s what we want, right?” Myran asks. “Why not just lead the whole bunch into the chasm right now.”

“No,” Iagz says strongly. “We need to engage the bulk of their forces, get as many to follow as possible.”

“And you’re sure you know where those are?” I ask.

Iagz told me his plan earlier. That he thought much of their force was at that circle General Zargog drew on the map.

“It’s a large, open space near the front.” Iagz had said. “Zargog likes it for our archers but the orcs, or rather the dragon, would choose it because of its proximity size and multiple tunnels leading in and out. It’s like a junction, a hub from which orcs could be sent anywhere, and respond to any incursion.”

Just like they are now most likely. Sending reinforcements to the front.

The drums are getting louder.

“Alright,” I say. “Let’s proceed as planned. Colonel Iagz, lead the way.”

“I want to split-up,” Iagz says. “Divide our force in two.”

“What?” I exclaim. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

The goblin colonel looks with urgency in the direction of the drums. “I didn’t know that the orcs would react this fast. We need to be able to move quickly. If we split-up we shorten our columns and make it less likely that they catch us.”

“I dunno,” I say slowly.

This is always a bad idea in movies and tv shows.

“We’ll before we meet the cavern,” Iagz continues, and gestures toward two tunnels to the far left. “Those two rejoin deeper into the mountain. Then we take a different route back out of the cavern.”

I’m not entirely sold on that but as the drums get closer and closer and my head is starting to spin with too many details.

Besides, there’s something to be said for deferring to expertise and the goblins know these mountains better than I do.

“Kabaret can guide you,” Iagz continues. “He knows the way. We’ll meet again.”

“Alright,” I agree reluctantly.

I hope this works.

We rush along the side of the chasms toward the two tunnels. Looking over I see the wall on the other side. Goblins watch from atop and I think I see some pumping their arms in celebration.

Nothing to celebrate yet.

There are also plenty of goblin dead already. Even after all the arrows enough orcs remained to leave a mark on our offensive. There things are clearly beasts in hand-to-hand combat.

What was the king thinking. A direct engagement? Sounds suicidal.

We reach the leftmost tunnels and divide our forces as planned. Kababaret joins me and my companions as we plunge into the darkness of the tunnel. I’m nearly bowled over by the stench of it. There were clearly battles fought here as the remains of (mostly goblin) bodies stubbornly indicate.

I think I’m going to vomit.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Maker’s mercy,” exclaims Myran. “Does the smell get any better?”

“No, it gets worse,” says Kabaret, his deep voice rasping and slithery in my ear. “The smells of the dead linger in the mountain without proper care. The temple cleanses the bodies. But without their oils the rot is slow, and it stinks.”

That it does. And Kabaret is true to his word. We encounter even more bodies as we hurry along, and they smell even worse. There are so many that I stumble sometimes, tripping over the orc and goblin flesh. More than once I wish that I had Eeyore’s sure footedness. The goblins do better and I can tell they get a little impatient with me.

“We tried to hold these tunnels,” says Kabaret. “It was a stupid idea. Engaging the orcs close quarters is the worse thing possible. Not only do you use the range but we also cannot swarm or retreat easily. The orcs used their strength to demolish us.”

I shiver at the thought of that. I for one wouldn’t want to fight here either. The power of my magic would be diluted as well as I couldn’t shine my light from a distance. So you can only imagine my horror when I feel a hand grasp my leg.

“It’s a trap!” Kabaret shouts.

Thank you, Admiral Ackbar.

Some of the orc bodies have turned out to be less….dead than anticipated.

Tell me again how orcs are stupid.

I reach back to my sword as the orc snarls beneath me. It pulls me forward and I tumble onto my face before I can unsheathe it. The orc rolls on top of my and I try vainly to bat its fists away from my throat. The hands are too strong though and wrap tightly around my neck.

Shit.

Then two hooves smash into the orc’s face and I am free. I look-up to see Dauntless rearing and striking at the orcs. The creatures may know a lot about killing goblins but they’ve never tussled with an Astrian war horse before. Dauntless is an animal (literally) rearing, bucking, and kicking at any orc who approaches. He’s such a distraction that it gives me a moment to recover myself.

I stand and draw my sword and bring it down swiftly onto the head of the injured orc permanently ending that threat. I spin to see another come and I deflect his swing. I try to counter but the orc leaves no opening merely coming back at me again and again every time I set myself.

A goblin comes to my aid, brandishing a short dagger that he drives into the orc’s side. The or c roars and slashes down with his own blade cleaving the goblin in two. The blood splashes across the rocks and across me as the orc turns his attention back to me. The dagger still juts from his side but the creature hardly seems bothered by it.

I strike with my own blade, trying to seize back the initiative. The orc deflects but his blade cracks as the metal is of poor quality. Another of my swings and the blade splits entirely.

Well, that’s one advantage I have. Better equipment.

The orc roars and throws its weapon in anger. The thing almost slices through my head as I duck at the last minute. As I straighten the orc slams into me and tries to wrench the blade from my hand. My wrist screams in pain as the orc’s nails bore into me. I feel the orc’s hot breath against my face can taste it’s sweat in my mouth.

I drop the sword but as I do I reach for the broken blade that the orc threw at my head. As the orc approaches I throw it right back at him, the jagged edge slicing his throat. The orc snarls, but also wheezes as it chokes on its own blood. I grasp my fallen sword and slash at the orc’s legs bringing the creature its knees as it tries to hold back the blood gushing out of its neck. With one swift chop I sever the head from the body.

“Take this,” Cyrus calls out, and tosses a bottle in my direction.

I slash at it with my sword and the glass shatters against my blade with liquid sliding all the way down to my hilt. When the next orc comes at me its wooden club splinters against my blade as my sword is now reinforced with the cleric’s elixir.

I slash furiously at the orc. Despite the creature’s greater strength it is unable to get close enough to me to pounce. I slash at the creature arm and instead of just cutting it the blade slides right through.

What’s that people say about hot knives and butter?

Tough as the orc may be no creature thrills to seeing its appendage just lying on the ground and the creature actually flees, bowling in misery and fear.

Now we’re talking.

The orcs are falling back as their initial surprise wears off and our defense becomes more organized.

“After them,” I shout. “Don’t let them give-away our position.”

I lead the goblins forward, Kabaret at my side, and my companions close behind. The orcs are usually faster of course but many of the survivors are injured and we pounce upon their rear as soon as they’re in view. Some of the goblins even shoot arrows as the orcs are far enough away that the range matters again.

It’s nice to have them on the run. For once.

We come around a turn though and I stop. They’ve regrouped and joined with others as the tunnel before us is about as clogged with orcs as my dad’s arteries are with cholesterol.

They must have left little checkpoints throughout the tunnels. Just waiting for any counterattack.

The orcs bellow and the cruises reverberate in the passage. The leader, a nasty one by the look of him, raises his battleaxe.

The orcs charge.