The orcs were led by a massive feral one, tusks instead of teeth and countless scars showing experience, greying hair meaning he would soon die and so was seeking 'final glories' as is the orc way. Once again, they had that fish scale-like armor around their legs, arms, and necks, and big meaty wooden and wicker shields to protect them.

The leader also had a large bronze shield, with metal stubs connecting it to a thicker-than-average wooden frame underneath that could make for a shield all on its own, demented and broken in ways that can only come from battle.

The humans lined up in a half-circle formation, cutting the elven siblings out. The elven sister picked up a spare spear, one that must have been used by one of the men who swam across earlier. The two of them were now pulling the ropes that had been attached to the cart.

The sound of snapping was heard. It was hard to tell if it came from bone or wood as the orc frontrunner had flung a spear of his own into the cart—it was a remarkable throw. As the axe collided with the cart, it caused the girls to start screaming, which woke the infant, and that seemed to echo far and wide, alerting anything nearby to their presence.

The elven siblings hoped there would be no orcs on the other side of the river, as there were more orcs on this side than they could count under the duress, meaning there were easily too many for them to defeat in battle with five humans. With a great shout, the elven sister threw her spear in retaliation.

However, the orcs made no move to slow down their charge even as one was impaled and nailed to the ground by the clean throw. Instead, the impaled orc first clawed at the spear to try and get free and then threw its weapons impotently, as if throwing a tantrum when it realized it would die.

Some of the women of the tribe had abandoned the cart and jumped into the water to try and swim, and others had found new strength to push harder—the type that you can only find when it's truly do or die.

The human warriors came back to almost hugging the cart with their backs. The women started screaming at the men to be brave, almost threatening them with tales of what the orcs do to captured women. The children screamed and cried. Some thought briefly of trying to drown the little girls so they could escape the horrible fate that awaited them in capture.

Of the women trying to swim, some were immediately caught by the currents and dragged under, no one the wiser to their deaths in the chaos. Others made it across and then turned to shout encouragements and insults at the men pulling the ropes, desperation and worry for those who hadn't crossed the river.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The ancient human, knowing he would not be much help in a fight, grabbed the two girls and decided to risk swimming across with them. Just as he made it into the water, the cart collided with the water, and the orcs collided with the men. In moments, three of the five were cut down, and four more were run through.

Only one spear didn't find its mark, and that was because it shattered on the thick, heavy bronze shield of the orc leader. The spear belonged to the eldest son, who was tackled into the cart, shaking it and threatening to tip the cart over, throwing all who couldn't swim to their deaths.

The orcs would not be able to cross in their heavy metal armor, and this was shown as the ones who were thrown into the water by their own momentum soon drowned, grasping at women to try and drown together.

Just as the cart looked to reach the point of no return and tip over completely, the elf brother leapt up, using his own weight to balance things and swing the dead orc's sword at the head of his foe. _Thwack!_ It struck clean and bounced off the skull. Twisting and swinging at the elf brother in retaliation, he was cut up the side and fell into the water, floating with elven grace, and soon in his sister's arms, the elf was carried across as the eldest son took the one chance he would get and used the broken half of the spear to press down on the orc's throat, wrestling to get on top and then choking him.

But the orc's weapon found purchase under the spear, stabbing up and into the man's ribs as he screamed. The eldest son screamed back. The orc's eyes started to fade as the man's guts fell from his stomach, the uniquely rotten stench of insides smothering the chiseled abs of the orc.

Even still, the man held strong, not letting the life leave him until he was sure the orc had lost his. He pushed so hard he shattered the orc's throat, and then the spear disappeared as it snaped in two in his final moments, now unaware of his surroundings and too bloodied to tell he had won, as he died in despair. He died thinking, 'his younger brothers had all died at the last battle his tribe faced... he was the last hope for the last family he loved, his own father who would have the horror of seeing all his family die before him... and he failed to kill his foe'.

Not aware of what happened, the ancient human was relieved to get the two girls to shore as if by miracle. The one with the coin, clutching it in her hands previously paralyzed, broke into a mindless sprint after her feet found solid land. She ran right up to the cave and then looked up to see an incarnation of raw violence, power, and all the beauty that came with the two.

Her heart seemed to break it beat so fast. Her scream was choked by the scream's own terror, as if the sound itself didn't want to be heard by that. She succumbed to her knees as if in prayer and held up her hands to hide the sight from her eyes as a golden pair of eyes, the size of a full-grown man, twisted as if on a swivel and looked at the coin.

The orcs had frozen; terror had overcome them. Many defecated. The elven siblings had started crying, and the humans were like deer meeting lions.

A claw reached out of the darkness, and with inhuman, machine-like grace that seemed an ugly and addicting sight from the red-scaled giant lizard hand picked up the coin and spoke. Claws like fangs, moved with inhuman accuracy, to pinch the coin in a move like threading a needle only with a vast lance instead of a thread.

"Mortal do you seek to forge a pack or buy the great me with this rusty coinage?"