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The ruined stone shook with the pounding of the Orc's wardrums and shouts. The simple baracade was all but trampled beneath the waves of Orcs that now lay dead in the small room. Targus looked over his shoulder at the slender elf, the only one of his brave companions that still held the strength to stand.
Targus could feel the numbness as it spread up his arm. He had fought hard, and he fell many more blows then he had taken. Yet each was now taking its toll as he waited for the next to come...
The brief respite gave him and his companion time to feebly patch their wounds and clear a space for the fight to come. They exchanged glances, and thought to try for their escape before a call rang out in broken common...
"I challenge the Dwarven Warrior to single combat in the name of Grummsh!!"
The voice was impossibly loud and powerful amongst the din of the gathering war party. Surely the taunt was meant to lure the Dwarf ahead foolishly, to trick him into a melee he could not win. Yet Targus could not shrug off the challenge. His blood boiled. He could feel his face burn with rage as it overtook any shred of self control.
Targus shouted his acceptance back with a threat. He could hardly hear his own thoughts, let alone his words, amidst the rage that built in chest. Each breath heaved through him, his heart pounded louder then the drums and his ears heard nothing as the Orc pushed into Targus's kill zone.
The immense champion would have towered over any Orc he had ever seen, and its eyes seemed to shine red with fury as he kicked through the mangled pile of its comrades. Each spoke words laced with hate, yet Targus heard nothing but the cries of every Human, Elf, and Dwarf that had fallen to the hordes of Bloodmaim.
With his feet he cleared his space, making sure he would not trip and meet his demise to the brute. The square before the door was his, and no Orc would have it. The Champion of the Legionbane charged with great strides and a cry of fury that was met by the primal growl of Targus and his cry for battle. A cry that was made more poigniant by the axe he hurled at the Orc's face. "I am an IRONSTAR!"
The throwing axe took the Orc in the shoulder, but it hardly seemed to slow the impossibly large creature. He closed with but a few strides and the blows traded were fierce. The Orc sent it's flaming Great Sword in an arc to crush the Dwarf's skull, only to be turned by his thick shield. Targus responded in kind with a swift strike that caught it heavily beneath its arm.
To any being to witness, the battle was intense and furious. The two combatants striking with the force of their combined hatred, and of their Gods fury. Yet even with such fury and strength, the Orc's blows seemed to do little to slow the savage Dwarf in his fury. Targus howled in rage as spittle flew from his purple lips. The veins of his neck and forehead pulsed with his rage as he pressed a vicious assault.
The Orc replied in kind, his sword going out wide to catch the devious dwarf at an odd angle. The sword closed in dangerously, but Targus had anticipated its course and he turned his weak swing to catch the orc in the wrist. As his axe connected the sword flew to the ground, and the Orc looked on stunned as Targus stepped in and put his axe through it's chest.
The Orc looked on in disbelief and whimpered as it fell to the ground in two pieces. The victory only heightened Targus's rage. He screamed a bestial roar into the night, hardly hearing the whimper of his ally behind him against the rage in his ears.
The call was returned by the fallen Champion's warband. The cry broke through Targus's rage and reminded him of who he was... Of what was at stake. He took a last look at the pile of Orc's and spat on their fouled remains before he turned to Suzero.
"Gather the wounded an' fallen.. We needs ta find a way out the back.." He called up the short flight of stairs...
Targus could feel the numbness as it spread up his arm. He had fought hard, and he fell many more blows then he had taken. Yet each was now taking its toll as he waited for the next to come...
The brief respite gave him and his companion time to feebly patch their wounds and clear a space for the fight to come. They exchanged glances, and thought to try for their escape before a call rang out in broken common...
"I challenge the Dwarven Warrior to single combat in the name of Grummsh!!"
The voice was impossibly loud and powerful amongst the din of the gathering war party. Surely the taunt was meant to lure the Dwarf ahead foolishly, to trick him into a melee he could not win. Yet Targus could not shrug off the challenge. His blood boiled. He could feel his face burn with rage as it overtook any shred of self control.
Targus shouted his acceptance back with a threat. He could hardly hear his own thoughts, let alone his words, amidst the rage that built in chest. Each breath heaved through him, his heart pounded louder then the drums and his ears heard nothing as the Orc pushed into Targus's kill zone.
The immense champion would have towered over any Orc he had ever seen, and its eyes seemed to shine red with fury as he kicked through the mangled pile of its comrades. Each spoke words laced with hate, yet Targus heard nothing but the cries of every Human, Elf, and Dwarf that had fallen to the hordes of Bloodmaim.
With his feet he cleared his space, making sure he would not trip and meet his demise to the brute. The square before the door was his, and no Orc would have it. The Champion of the Legionbane charged with great strides and a cry of fury that was met by the primal growl of Targus and his cry for battle. A cry that was made more poigniant by the axe he hurled at the Orc's face. "I am an IRONSTAR!"
The throwing axe took the Orc in the shoulder, but it hardly seemed to slow the impossibly large creature. He closed with but a few strides and the blows traded were fierce. The Orc sent it's flaming Great Sword in an arc to crush the Dwarf's skull, only to be turned by his thick shield. Targus responded in kind with a swift strike that caught it heavily beneath its arm.
To any being to witness, the battle was intense and furious. The two combatants striking with the force of their combined hatred, and of their Gods fury. Yet even with such fury and strength, the Orc's blows seemed to do little to slow the savage Dwarf in his fury. Targus howled in rage as spittle flew from his purple lips. The veins of his neck and forehead pulsed with his rage as he pressed a vicious assault.
The Orc replied in kind, his sword going out wide to catch the devious dwarf at an odd angle. The sword closed in dangerously, but Targus had anticipated its course and he turned his weak swing to catch the orc in the wrist. As his axe connected the sword flew to the ground, and the Orc looked on stunned as Targus stepped in and put his axe through it's chest.
The Orc looked on in disbelief and whimpered as it fell to the ground in two pieces. The victory only heightened Targus's rage. He screamed a bestial roar into the night, hardly hearing the whimper of his ally behind him against the rage in his ears.
The call was returned by the fallen Champion's warband. The cry broke through Targus's rage and reminded him of who he was... Of what was at stake. He took a last look at the pile of Orc's and spat on their fouled remains before he turned to Suzero.
"Gather the wounded an' fallen.. We needs ta find a way out the back.." He called up the short flight of stairs...