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Chapter 7

“Beware a warrior who dabbles in magic. Entire armies are less terrifying.” Written in the diary of an anonymous Valish monk.

As he looked down Garassk noticed that Hrogvorth had seven armored figures at his side. Hrogvorth himself stood in the center of them. His skin was dirt-brown, and his frame stockier than Morgwar’s. Aside from his plate armor, and he war hammer in his hands, the crown on Hrogvorth’s head was more easily spotted, as was its faint glow. The jagged shape of the headpiece almost made his blood freeze.

“So Morgwar finally figured out what I was up to,” the orc sneered with a voice was higher than Morgwar’s, but also harsher. “A pity he’s too late to stop it.”

“We’ll see about that!” Morgwar shouted, emerging on the scene. “You have a lot to answer for, you bastard!”

“This crown is my answer for whatever you have to say,” Hrogvorth sneered.

“Silence!” Morgwar shouted. He stepped forward to kill his rival, only to stop when the undead archers took aim for him. Hrogvorth laughed, creating an unpleasant echo throughout the chamber.

“Let’s get this over with, then.”

He raised a fist, and the archers launched their arrows. Garassk backed away in time to avoid a barrage of arrows that would have surely hit him if he hadn’t moved. He retreated toward Morgwar.

“Well, we’re outnumbered,” he said. “What’s the plan, oh mighty king?

“Shut up and get that crown!” the orc snapped. “The puppets fall when the one holding the strings dies.”

“Leave comments like that to the poets,” Garassk muttered, scanning the chamber for a good starting point from which to attack. There were plenty of ledges, but a corpse stood at all of them. He backed up a few steps, and charged for the stairs leading to the nearest ledge. This is a terrible idea, he thought as he jumped for the stairs. Garassk’s feet slammed onto the steps, and he raised his shield in time to stop the arrow headed straight at him. His next seconds consisted of charging toward the corpse as it prepared to shoot again, knocking it over with his shield, and slamming his shield down on its head to keep it from attacking again.

“Cover me!” he shouted to everyone else before blocking more shots from the other undead. Rathorn and the archers shot two more, and Garassk grabbed the bow off of the foe he felled. He pulled the string and took aim for a corpse across from him. He released, sending his arrow right through the corpse’s chest. An arrow sailed past him, and he turned to see a bolt strike down the shooter.

This will kill us eventually, he thought. We need to kill Hrogvorth. Garassk took aim and shot for the orc. Hrogvorth moved to the side and looked up at Garassk.

Shuffling from behind reminded Garassk that Rathorn and Morgwar were still nearby. He turned to see undead stumbling out from the walls of the chamber they’d just entered from. There would be no going back. Not that way.

“I’m going for Hrogvorth!” Garassk shouted. “Take care of the archers for me!”

He charged down the stairs towards the orc king. Two undead soldiers emerged as his bodyguards. Garassk stopped in front of them and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. His opponents stopped in their tracks for a moment.

“So, Morgwar sends a lizard after me,” Hrogvorth said, sizing Garassk up. “And a child, no less.”

“Well it was either this or go to a monastery. My choice,” Garassk said.

“Wit won’t save you,” Hrogvorth snarled, pointing at Garassk “Attack!”

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The two soldiers charged forward with the grace of lions. Garassk barely had time to step away from them as they swiped at him with their axes. He lashed out for their heads, but found that none of his blows killed them or even made them stagger. Their helmets, Garassk realized. Fighting them would require different tactics entirely. Or a good trick against Hrogvorth.

An arrow landed near his feet, causing him to halt for a moment. He maneuvered around the kings, and observed that archers were still active.

“I need some help!” he shouted.

“We’re a little busy here!” Rathorn shouted back, throwing a soldier down.

Two undead warriors flew from a higher platform, and Morgwar roared and chased them down.

Garassk turned his attention back to the two soldiers and Hrogvorth. He was barely ready when they tried to slash at him again. He turned to Hrogvorth and charged straight for him. Garassk swung for the orc, only for his blow to clang against the armor. Hrogvorth’s subsequent strike was faster than Garassk would have guessed he was capable of moving. A hard punch to the thigh forced him to buckle, and hammer blow threw him across the room. He rolled away as the undead soldiers went in for a killing stroke.

Garassk circled around the chamber, desperate to evade all of the undead in the area. The most elite royals seemed to have been summoned to serve Hrogvorth, and they patrolled the lower chambers for Garassk. The chambers were surprisingly well-stocked with jars and vases that he could use to hide behind, but he couldn’t be sure if they were truly unaware of his position, or just biding their time.

Up above, Morgwar and Rathorn raged against legions of soldiers, and Morgwar’s own men were butchered in the fighting.

An unexpected distraction came when Morgwar burst into the chamber, and leapt down to ground level, roaring out a challenge.

“Where’s Rathorn?” Garassk asked.

“Fighting off the horde!” Morgwar snarled. “For now.”

“You left him up there?” Garassk shouted.

“I want that my cousin’s head!” Morgwar shouted. Garassk cursed furiously.

“You take care of them,” he hissed, pointing to the undead. “I’ll deal with Hrogvorth!”

Garassk went back toward the altar where Hrogvorth stood and charged for him again. He swung for the his head, but Hrogvorth ducked. Garassk jumped to the side, feeling the slight breeze of the punch he’d barely avoided.

“You were a fool to come here,” Hrogvorth said, as he and Garassk circled each other. “You can’t trust Morgwar. Whatever he told you, I can assure you it’s only half of the story.”

“And I suppose you’ll tell me the other half, and let me leave if I turn on Morgwar right now?” Garassk shot back.

He lunged for Hrogvorth and slammed his shield into the orc’s face, causing him to stagger. Hrogvorth was ready for his follow-up, and blocked his sword swipe with his arm. Garassk narrowly avoided the retaliatory strike and assumed an offensive stance to prevent Hrogvorth from acting again too soon.

“This isn’t about you,” Hrogvorth said. “Morgwar’s greed will get the better of him. He would have turned on me had we done this together. He will surely do the same to you when this is over.”

“That’s nice. I’m still going to kill you,” Garassk said. He jumped from behind Hrogvorth, who ducked in time to avoid a strike that would have taken his head had he been a little slower.

“Time to end this,” Garassk snarled, spinning around, and swinging his shield, prompting Hrogvorth to duck. This time, he swung his sword at the orc’s neck as soon as he moved. The blow was punctuated by a roar, and rewarded with a spray of blood as Hrogvorth’s head rolled far away from his body, which sunk to the ground. The undead he’d collapsed with his passing, bringing a deathly silence to the catacombs.