Kingdom of Twilight post 1

Bleeding from too many wounds to count, Mordak ran through the snow covered forest. Snow so deep that he had no hope of covering his tracks, his pursuers had a clear path to follow. Mordak ran for all he was worth, not knowing where he was going only trying to escape. Branches whipped by, scratching his face and tearing at his clothes, disorienting him even more. A large branch caught his foot under the snow and sent him tumbling to the ground. Dazed from the impact of the fall and weakened from the loss of blood, it took him a moment to get his bearings. As he struggled to his feet he caught the sound of the orcs chasing after him, they sounded much closer then before. There must be at least a dozen still after him, there’s no way he could have killed more then four or five in the fight. Mordak took off at a run, or what he thought was a run. He glanced back to see if he could catch a glimpse of his pursuers, that’s when he noticed the large crimson stain in the snow where he fell. “That couldn’t be all from me” Mordak mumbled to himself, but knowing the truth of the matter, and knowing that he needed to find a place to rest and bandage his wounds. Just then he heard a “WHOOSH,” and felt something fly past his head. As he turned to see what it was he saw four orcs not more then fifty yards back, he noticed two of them readying their slings. Mordak turned back around looking for a large tree to duck behind; he felt splinters lance into his face as a stone smashed into a small tree next to him. Just as he was diving for cover another stone connected with his skull. Mordak fell to the ground with a thud, all he could think of was that he was so very cold and he could use the rest, then all was black.

Ulrich was an oddity in his tribe. He has gray skin, large pointed ears, a flat head, and tusks from his bottom jaw that protrude over his top lip, just like every other orc. He was bigger and stronger then any other orc in his tribe, but that’s not what set him apart from the other orcs. It was his hatred for senseless violence and bloodshed that the rest of his tribe shared. Ulrich despised living in the caves of his people; the only peace he found was in the forest. He longed for the days when he could escape before dawn and hunt alone. No other orcs to bother him and get in the way, a day like today.
He rose before dawn, and try as he might he couldn’t get out of bed without waking his wife. Ulrich was very happy he was able to find an orcess like Takara. She didn’t like violence as much as most orcs but didn’t understand Ulrich’s hatred of it, but she loved him very much anyway. Takara knew she would always be safe when Ulrich was around. There was no other orc in their tribe that could match his fighting skill. It was only the times when he was gone that the rest of the tribe would show her their displeasure with the “tree hugging pacifist orc,” which is why Ulrich and Takara were planning on leaving come spring, especially since Takara is with child. Ulirch couldn’t stand to have his child raised around those blood thirsty orcs.
As Ulrich was getting up, Takara rolled over and gave him a kiss and told him to be careful on his hunt, and he assured her as he always did that he would be fine. He kissed her on her forehead and got out of bed. Shivering slightly at the cold he put on his heavy leather breeches, fur lined boots, and a heavy shirt. He strapped his long hunting knife across his chest, and threw his bear skin cloak across his back. The cloak came from a large brown bear that he brought down with that very knife. He grabbed a couple of biscuits and some dried meat and tossed them in a sack for the trail. Ulrich turned to say goodbye to Takara, but she was back to sleep. He gazed at her wistfully, imagining how their new life away from the tribe would be, Ulirch let out a sigh and walked out of their cave into the warrens of the main cave.
Stepping out of the caves into the grayness of pre-dawn Ulrich had to stop and take in the quite stillness that it was. Beauty surrounded him, from the blanket of newly fallen snow, to the bright green of the evergreens poking through from the mountains above. He started out heading down to the foothills knowing the best hunting would be there. After a couple hours of hiking through the snow looking for some game trails he realized he would find nothing today. There was an unnatural silence to the forest, as Ulrich slowed his pace he found the reason for it, a bloody trail through the trees, covered in orc tracks. The scent of this blood was enough to scare off anything he was hunting. He decided to see how far the trail went and headed off.
Ulrich knew it wasn’t anyone from his tribe because he would have noticed the tracks leaving the cave, so it must be orcs from the Black Hills tribe. They are another tribe of orcs that occupy the same territory as Ulrich’s tribe, relations between the two tribes is strained at best. There is minimal trading between them, and at which times a fight always seemed to break out, but usually only ending with a few minor injures and some bruised egos.
After following the trail for a while he picked up the scent of a campfire in the distance, shortly after that he noticed where a body had fallen into the snow and left a lot of blood. Whatever it was got up and ran for about another ten feet before it went down again. Ulrich saw the tracks of the orcs gather around the spot were the creature fell and the ruts in the snow were they must have drug it away, looking up he saw smoke from the campfire and realized they didn’t go far at all. He walked through the trees to see what they had brought down.
Ulrich emerged into the clearing, quickly taking everything in. The snow had been crushed throughout the campsite by the orcs who still slumbered around the now smoldering fire. He noticed a couple with bloody bandages, he also saw what he assumed must be the cause of those wounds; he human slumped against the tree which he was tied to. It appeared the orcs had had their fun with him, rocks were scattered all around and his face was covered with red welts, blood soaked through his clothes, he could only imagine the condition that the rest of his body was in.
Ulrich had already decided he was going to free the human, hopefully without any more bloodshed. He walked through the middle of camp, to the far end where the human was tied up. Ulrich went around to the back of the tree and cut the rope that held the human up, as soon as the rope has cut the human slumped to the ground with a groan. Ulrich cursed inwardly, hoping the noise wasn’t loud enough to wake any of the orcs, but knew otherwise when he heard the grunting of them waking up. He stayed behind the tree waiting patiently until most of the orcs had rising from their slumber. One orc went to get the fire going again, a few others chatted companionably. They all went about breaking down camp and preparing their morning meal, until one noticed the human freed of his bonds and slumped over in the snow. The orcs talked excitedly amongst themselves, trying to figure out how the human got free and if he did it himself why he didn’t escape. Once they realized the human was in no condition to go anywhere they went back to their discussion. Still behind the tree, Ulrich sheathed his knife and stepped out to face the orcs. He was quite an imposing figure, standing just over six feet and wearing his heavy bear fur cloak adding to his already broad frame.
“I am Ulrich of the Broken Axe tribe. Who are you to invade my people’s land?” He asked the gathered orcs.
One of the orcs stood up, who Ulrich assumed was the leader of this party, as he was the biggest, and replied. “I am Baghtru of the Black Hills. This our land just as much as it yours. You can share fire, if you answer questions for me.”
“What is it you would like to know?”
“You cut the human free?” asked Baghtru.
“And if I did?” replied Ulrich.
“Then I think you tell us why”
“I think I will tell you nothing you uneducated son of a whore. Now I’m taking this human before you kill him.”
“There many more of us, only one you, I think he stay where is and you leave before we forced to hurt you.” Replied the now agitated Baghtru.
Ulrich quickly scanned the force opposing him, five orcs were nursing previous injures, but the other nine seemed more then ready for a fight, especially Baghtru.
“I would hate to see any of your orcs die today, so why don’t you pack up your gear and leave.” Ulrich stated flatly.
Baghtru grunted a command, and four orcs picked up their weapons and advanced toward Ulrich. Two of them had short swords and the other two carried hand axes. The four of them spread out as they approached.
Ulrich unclasped his bear-skin cloak and shrugged it off his shoulders. His hunting knife still in its sheath across his chest, he awaited their attack. The four orcs formed a semi-circle about ten feet away from Ulrich, the axe wielders on the outside so they had more room to swing. The orcs grew impatient waiting for Ulrich to move, he just stood there looking very bored. Finally one of the orcs couldn’t stand it anymore and attacked, his sword held high above his head he charged while screaming a loud battle cry. Ulrich still didn’t move. He waited until the last moment then burst into action. As the orc swung down with his sword, Ulrich stepped to his left, grabbed the orc’s wrist with his right hand, the smashed the orc’s elbow with a punch from his left fist, breaking his arm with a sickening crunch. He easily reversed the sword and plunged it into the orc’s chest, killing him instantly. As Ulrich pulled the sword from the dead orc, the other three rushed him. He hurled the sword at the axe wielding orc on the left. He threw it so hard that it impaled the orc to the hilt, lifted him from the ground and knocked him back several feet. Ulrich ducked under the swing from the other axe wielding orc and came up with a right uppercut to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He then smashed his forehead into the orc’s face, breaking his nose and sending a shower of blood over them both. The orc went down in a writhing mess. Ulrich turned just in time to see the last of the four orcs attack with his sword. He dodged the strike and kicked the orc’s knee in one swift motion forcing him to the ground. Ulrich stepped behind the orc, grabbed his head, and quickly snapped his neck, ending its life.
Ulrich picked up the two axes and tested their balance. They weren’t what he was used to, but not to bad for crude orc weapons. He walked over to the orc still squirming on the ground, and with a downward chop, he ended its misery. Blood covering his face and body, axes in hand, Ulrich advanced on the rest of the orcs.
Baghtru watched the scene in disbelief. Four of his best warriors slaughtered in mere seconds by one unarmed orc.
“KILL HIM!” Bellowed Baghtru.
Baghtru grabbed an orc with a wounded arm and told him to go back to the Black Hills tribe and tell the chief they were attacked by Broken Axe raiders. This should be the perfect catalyst to start a war and destroy the Broken Axe tribe once and for all.
The rest of the orcs charged at Ulrich, barring their yellow tusks and screaming battle cries. Baghtru watched the scene in front of him and had no fear that Ulrich would lie dying on the snow covered ground at his feet. He shouted at his orcs, driving them into battle frenzy.
Ulrich spun the axes around in his hands readying himself for the oncoming rush, confidence shown in his every movement. The orcs hit an impenetrable wall, that was Ulrich of the Broken Axe. Spinning and slashing axes took down every orc that approached, leaving bodies and blood covered snow in his wake.
Baghtru was stunned into silence as Ulrich cut down the remaining orcs, not one of them coming close to injuring him. Baghtru strapped on his shield and pulled out his long serrated sword, preparing for the inevitable battle.
Ulrich stepped over the bodies of the fallen orcs, towards Baghtru. The two fighters slowly circled, sizing each other up. Ulrich stood two inches over six feet and almost two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle, he’d never met an orc that could best him in combat. His opponent, however, stood nearly seven feet tall with a girth to match, and looked as if he could snap a tree in two without breaking a sweat.
Baghtru was never a smart orc so he relied on his size and strength to earn his status as a leader. He circled confidently, knowing he was much stronger, and if necessary would just tear Ulrich apart with his bare hands. Baghtru grew tired of the circling and charged to attack; shield in front and his sword held above his head. Ulrich sprung into action, spinning to the right and around Baghtru, easily avoiding the larger orc’s charge. Swinging hard with the axe in his left hand, Ulrich imbedded it deeply into Baghtru’s calf, bringing him to his knees. Leaving the axe stuck there, he continued the spin around Baghtru. Gripping his remaining axe in both hands, and using the momentum of the spin, Ulrich aimed for Baghtru’s neck. He was rewarded as the axe slid cleanly through, removing Baghtru’s head from his body. The head fell to the ground with a look of utter surprise.