Friends and family (part three)

Discussion in 'Stories & Tales' started by Osterby, Sep 15, 2011.

  1. Osterby Recruit

    Osterby paused for a moment, despite some bruising he felt well, infact suprisingly well. As he mulled over the days events, he realised that the dark oppressive shadows seemed slightly less threatening, and the strange eerie noises slightly less menacing, Osterby nodded to himself, smiled broadly and continued on his path.

    The sudden harsh tone grew as it echoed through the halls and caverns. Osterby flinched, it was unmistakingly an Orcish horn! As he froze in his tracks, he ducked low, desperately glancing arround him for approaching danger. Relief flooded through him as he realised he was safe from peril, as he exhaled in thanks, a dread realisation struck Osterby, if he was safe, then who was in peril?
    Osterby hopped up and down as he struggled to remember the route his friends had described to him. Suddenly he started to run, his face grim and determined, the sound of his own heartbeat booming and echoing between his ears as he plunged recklessly onwards into the darkness.

    The violent clamour and clang of weapons caused Osterby to pause, it seemed tantalisingly close as he struggled tried to work out where it was comming from. Then he could made out several bestial roars, a single clear yell followed by a raucous volley of coarse gutteral laughter.

    Osterby paused, as he exhaled slowly he fought to control his breathing and his racing heart. Deliberately he dropped his backpack to the floor, pushing his meagre treasures to one side with his booted foot, and wiping both palms on his jacket he drew his trusty daggers. Osterby swallowed deeply, and set off once more a loping run, towards where he hoped the noise had come from.

    It was a terrible scene, patches of lichen illuminated the cavern with a faint sickly green glow. Osterby took in the prone bodies strewn and scattered across an uneven floor, and one lone Dwarf standing infront of the slumped body of his companion, grimly facing a group of Orcs, this was a battlefield.
    Osterby scrutinised the five Orcs grouped together, the largest a leader, was rallying its fellows, it was laughing and attempting to cram a discarded Dwarven helm upon its hairless head, and pointing to the lone figure.

    The Dwarf stood solid, immobile as if he was carved from the very stone that entombed him. The head his gleaming great axe propped motionless between his booted feet, his gloved hands crossed in front of its solid haft.
    Osterby also noticed that the Dwarf's cloak fell largely across to one shoulder, concealing one arm, and that his other hand was flexing stiff slowl movements. As Osterby peered at the Dwarf's battle scared face he noticed that he appeared to be chanting a low slow steady litany, as his lips moved in a constant rhythmic pattern of words.

    Osterby nodded, took a deep breath and moved forwards.


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