The sound of clinking glass and hushed conversation emanated within the dining hall of the Caravanserai. Merchants and caravanners of multiple races discussed business while sharing a meal. Humans and Elves having hushed conversations, Goblins and Gnomes quarreling and arguing, a group of Dwarves staring suspiciously at a band of Orcs and Beast-kin. But what they all had in common were the curious glances or in the case of the dwarves and orcs suspicious glares they were directing to a cloaked figure eating in the corner. Under the cloak he was wearing leather cuirass with several pouches.

At first glance he appeared to be a rather tall and robust human, being 1.9 meters tall when standing, and light gray skin with long, untamed brown locks of hair. His brows are pronounced, with bony ridges. But a closer look at his features showed some distinctly nonhuman traits. His ears are slightly pointed, like elven ears, but less pronounced. With strong intense eyes of amber, and pointed canines protruding from his lower lip, giving him a beastly countenance. They identify him as a Half-orc.

Now half-orcs are nothing rare these days given the Orcs’ tendency to raid and ambush during the previous great war. But it was the objects he brought with him that drew the curious glances. Visibly strapped on his left hip is what appears to be a hatchet of dwarven make, with a thin metal handle. To most people it appears to be a decorative silver showpiece, but the experienced eyes of the dwarves could easily tell that it was made of Mithril. They wondered how this half-breed got his hands on such a treasure. But it was the other object he brought that had the attention of the other races in the dining hall. At first glance it appeared to be similar to a Dwarven Long gun. But it had a thicker and shorter barrel, about 20 inches long. With a short, curved stock in the rear, just the right size for his hand to grip. The fact that someone of Orcish blood would use what they considered as such a “dishonorable weapon” drew the Orcs ire. But it was the unusual lock plate on the breech of the long gun that drew the curious looks of the Gnomes and Goblins, it had an additional plate on the side of the priming pan. Unbeknownst to them this unique gun has a larger vent on the side, so when powder is poured down the barrel, some will pour directly to the priming pan and saving time on priming the gun. The plate on the side of the priming pan is a flash guard, whose purpose is to prevent too much pressure from releasing to the side. The thick barrel is so that a larger charge of powder may be used. Inside the barrel is an arrangement of spiraling grooves that made his bullets to spin and shoot farther. Now normally such a heavy gun with a short stock and strong recoil when giving fire may be too heavy and unwieldy for most folks to wield, but the owner’s orcish strength allows him to wield it with no issue.

Everyone’s musings were suddenly interrupted by a loud screech.

“BANDITS!!!” “BANDITS!!!”

Everyone in the Hall stood, brandishing their weapons and ran outside, the half-orc sighed and reached for his gun.

Outside the Caravanserai was pandemonium, masked riders on horseback were causing chaos around the large settlement, clashing with the town guards. While masked bandits on foot were grabbing loot and taking captives. A line was formed near the Wagons, where the Caravanners and their guards protected their wares.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“BANG!!!”

A loud shot was fired and a bandit fell from his horse. It was the half-orc standing on the Caravanserai’s entrance, his gun smoking from his shot, his hatchet already gripped between the gun and his left hand. Calmly and with practiced ease he reached inside one of his pouches and pulled out a thick cylindrical paper object, he bit off one end and poured its contents and the rest of it down the barrel of his gun, using the shaft of his mithril hatchet he rammed it all down the barrel. He cocked the hammer of the lock plate, took aim and fired.

“BANG!!!”

This drew the notice of several of the nearby defenders. As his reload time was much faster than the reload of a professional Dwarven ranger. A professional ranger would be able to fire 3 shots in a minute, but the half-orc was firing 5 shots a minute. With every shot a bandit went down, sometimes two when one of them was behind another. Eventually the bandits noticed and charged him. He kept calmly reloading as the bandits neared. Suddenly a pair of giant fanged blurs charged the running bandits, it was a pair of dire wolves. The larger of the two wolves had Dark grey fur while the other wolf had light grey fur. They bit and tore apart the bandits who screamed and ran. The half-orc let out a sharp whistle and the two wolves ran to their master’s side. Whenever any bandit came near the dire wolves would leap to their master's defense, their jaws clamping down on the arms and legs of the attackers, tearing through flesh and bone.

A horn was sounded and the bandits retreated. The defenders all cheered thinking they won, but the bandits were merely regrouping as more bandits on horseback arrived. One of the bandits was wearing plate armor, he was very likely the bandit chief. The bandits regrouped and were preparing to charge with the mounted bandits in front, the defenders preparing to receive the charge.

The half-orc calmly strode to the front of the formation of defenders with his wolves by his side. He handed his rifle to one of the injured guards.

“Hold this”.

As he continued to casually stroll towards the bandits. He reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a large spherical object with a fuse protruding from it. On his left thumb and forefinger were a pair of metal rings, with a snap of his fingers he produced a spark and lit the fuse and threw the sphere directly towards the group of mounted bandits. The sphere exploded with the fury of thunder, unhorsing the bandit leader and several of the cavalry, while the rest of the horses frenzied with fear and ran wild, causing panic among the remaining bandits. Several of them charged the half-orc and his two wolves. He calmly reached into his right hip and pulled out a large pistol with a 12-inch barrel, he cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger, killing one of the bandits.

With a swift and practiced motion, he flipped the pistol around, tightly grasping it by the barrel turning his trusty firearm into a devastating war club, he unleashed powerful, bone-crushing blows upon his foes. Each swing carried the force of his Orcish strength, crashing against shields, armor, and bodies with a resounding impact. With his left hand he wielded his mithril hatchet, its razor-sharp blade forged by the skilled hands of dwarven craftsmen, he cut through the air with deadly precision. With his Dire Wolves by his side, he was a whirlwind of strength and skill. This jolted the other defenders into action, and they charged the bandits who were in disarray following the sudden death of the their chief and his guards, cutting them down. The surviving bandits finally turned tail and ran. He holstered his weapons and walked backed to the injured defenders who were staring at him in awe. He took his rifle back from the guard.

“Thank you”.

And walked back to the dining hall with his wolves. He was still hungry.