Bron V

Something had changed.
    Bron's orders that no one should speak of Swindon's miraculous recovery or of the spring were being followed, at least whenever he was near. He hadn't expected them to not talk about it at all once they were gathered around their campfires at night. He only wanted to try to stem the exaggeration of the tale and not have it spread too far.
    Although, how one should exaggerate what truly happened, Bron didn't know. Swindon's head had been bashed in and now he was back in the fighting pit training hard and beating most of his brothers in arms. That was one of the things that bothered him. One of the reasons he had asked Rud to come to his office.
    The soldier stood before him at attention, his head dangerously close to the low ceiling. Bron himself needed to stoop occasionally where the top half of the room was unevenly cut from the mountain. He scowled uneasily and tapped on the flask that was stationed on his desk. The flask that now only held a quarter of a cup of the spring's water.
    "At ease, soldier. I want to know what the men have been saying about this." Bron indicated the flask once more, a sharp pain shooting up his still recovering arm.
    "I only hear an occasional murmur here and there, sir. After I relayed your orders not to speak of it most men kept their mouths shut about it when I joined them at the fire." Rud shifted his stance to something more comfortable, but still his legs and shoulders were rigged as if clenched tight.
    "I expected as much. Tell me, the last time we spoke you said that you felt more healthy than ever, has that changed? Have you noticed anything unnatural since?"
    "No, sir. Still as healthy as can be." A smile flickered across Rud's lips.
    Bron looked his man up and down and frowned inwardly. Rud was putting on a show, he had answered on the spot, but something in his tone told Bron that he wasn't telling him everything. The only question was what was he hiding and how could Bron figure out what it was?
    "What about your strength? Have you noticed being stronger or faster than before?" Rud's smile slipped, only for a second, but it slipped.
    Swindon had become a much stronger fighter than he had been before his accident, why shouldn't the same be the case for Rud?
    "I may have noticed a slight increase in strength. Like I said, I feel fitter than ever. I don't train much with the others, so I haven't paid much attention to any such changes." A bead of sweat formed on his brow.
    Not only had Swindon become a better fighter, but Bron had noticed a change in his personality as well. He had become more reckless and violent. When he beat others while fighting he often left his opponents with more than just a few scrapes and bruises. Nothing serious had happened yet, but Bron had the bad feeling it might.
    "And what do you know about the disappearance of Adam of Merryton?" Rud's eyes widened, betraying his calm demeanor. As Bron had suspected, he wasn't prepared for this question and was caught off guard.
    Adam had recently disappeared and his brother Podd was often found together with Swindon, showing the same signs of heightened aggression and physical prowess. Bron knew of only two men who had drunk water from the spring, but he supposed Podd may have as well and if that was the case, Swindon and Rud would most likely know about it.
    "I'd only heard that he'd gone missing. No more, sir." More pearls of sweat started to build at the top of Rud's hairline. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his right hand, bringing it to rest on the pommel of his sword.
    "You seem tense. Is there something you're not telling me?" Bron watched the cords in Rud's neck stand out as the man clenched his jaw. For the first time during the conversation, Bron wasn't sure what to expect. He wanted to pressure the man, but Rud's calm behavior from only moments ago had crumbled, rapidly turning into something angry with every second that went by.
    Before Bron could comprehend what was going on, Rud tore his sword from his scabbard, only to have the pommel jam against the low ceiling, the lower third of the blade still stuck in its sheath. The growl erupting from Rud's clenched teeth resembled that of a wild animal as he abandoned drawing his sword and leaped toward Bron over his desk.
    Though surprised, Bron acted instinctively, hefting the desk upward. As everything tumbled down, the solid wooden surface smacked Rud in the face, giving Bron enough time to unsheathe his dagger and ready himself for Rud's next assault. A dull throbbing went through his arm, but adrenaline was forcing away the pain.
    Why Rud was attacking him, he didn't know. That he would continue to do so, Bron was certain.
    Rud had been knocked to the ground by the desk, but quickly scrambled back to his feet, nose dripping blood everywhere. Even though Bron was armed Rud came at him with a will, arms stretched out to grab for Bron's neck, leaving his stomach and chest unguarded.
    Bron hesitated only a second, Rud was still one of his men and he didn't want to kill anyone if he didn't have to, but the wildness in the man's eyes convinced him of what needed to be done. Before Rud could get his hands near him, Bron slipped under them, ramming the freshly sharpened dagger into Rud's side.
    Rud clutched at air, his upper body slumping over Bron's shoulder like a dead deer being brought back to camp after a hunt. Bron took two steps back, expecting the man to fall, but Rud amazingly stayed on his feet. He lifted his head, eyes focused on Bron, with a smile spreading over his blood smeared lips. His right hand crossed over to the hilt of Bron's dagger sticking out of his left side. Grunting, he pulled the bloody blade out inch by inch.
    Bron thought the man was barely able to stand, let alone wield a weapon, but he was wrong on both counts. Rud jumped at him with surprising speed and rammed Bron's own dagger into his chest. Pain shot through him, making every muscle in his body seize up. The blade had slid through his ribs digging deep into his right lung. He struggled for breath, spitting blood in Rud's face as he croaked, "Why?"
    Rud blinked. Then he looked down at his hand, slick with his own blood and Bron's. He pulled the dagger from his captain's chest, making Bron howl in pain, his body shuddering.
    "I'm sorry it came to this." Rud let the blade clatter to the floor and drew breath through clenched teeth as he straightened. He held his bleeding side and then quickly pulled his flask from his belt and took a sip. He sighed with relief and looked down at Bron, a renewed twinkle of vigor in his eyes. "But you gave me no choice. You were asking too many questions that would have led you back to that spring. My spring. Goodbye Captain Bron."
    With those last words Rud went to Bron's belt and undid his keys, he was helpless to do anything as more and more blood seeped from his chest and every breath became harder than the last. Rud stepped over the overturned desk and left the office, shutting and locking the door behind him, leaving Bron for dead.

   

Bron IV

Bron looked at the flask on his desk. An ordinary flask, but the content troubled him. He'd sniffed it, given a splash to a dog to lap up and nothing had happened. Everything spoke for it being plain water, but he just couldn't shake that feeling that it wasn't. It was different somehow.
    He grabbed the flask and winced. His arm was no longer in a sling, against the surgeon's advice. It seemed he should have heeded it. He unplugged the stopper and sniffed the liquid one more time.
    It still smelled the same. Odorless. Why was he so obsessed with this damned water? He sighed and put the plug back in the flask. He knew the answer to his question. The men they had found had died of dehydration with a giant lake only feet away. There had to be something wrong with it.
     Bron slipped the leather thong attached to the flask onto a hook on his belt. He got up from his seat and took three quick strides to his door. He needed to get out and breathe. Sitting in there and thinking about all that wasn't doing him any good.
    He closed the door behind him and stepped out into the entrance of the mine. His office was no more than a hole in the mountain. The same soldier who built the boat they used on the lake had also built him a desk and a bed. The desk wasn't much to look at, but it stood. The bed creaked and was uncomfortable. He really just needed to get outside where there was fresh air.
    The men had gotten used to him and his rounds. He didn't like it when they saluted. It was better if they just kept on working, which was what they were doing now. Some of the soldiers, those that were fit enough, were training in a fighting pit they had cleared.
    As Bron passed he heard the clash of metal followed by a meaty thud. Someone screamed and several men rushed to his aid. As Captain, Bron needed to stay on top of things. He had to make sure his men were alright.
    A few brisk strides brought him to the wounded man. He was on the ground, legs jerking spasmodically, helmet dented into his skull. The man he had been fighting against had to be Tod. He was huge with bulking muscles. Tod sat a few feet away, shield and sword lying next to him, head in his hands, rocking back and forth, muttering.
    "It was an accident. The swords... they slid past each other. The hilt... it broke. I used too much force. Oh by the Gods, what have I done!"
    No one seemed to care about him. They were all surrounding their dying comrade. Bron stepped through the gathered soldiers to helplessly watch. Now he could see who it was. The man's name was Swindon and he was about to die for no reason whatsoever.
    "Captain!" Rud was holding Swindon's crushed head in his lap. He looked up to Bron pleadingly. "The water. There's something I didn't tell you."
    "What are you talking about? It can wait."
    "No it can't." He was urgent. "The water from the spring. I drank it and it healed my wound from the battle."
    Bron couldn't believe it, but his hand was already reaching for the flask. If there was a chance to save one of his men then he would take it. There was no risk involved. If it didn't work Swindon would die anyway.
    Rud took the offered flask and pulled out the stopper with his teeth. He held the lip up to the dying man's mouth and slowly let the water trickle in. With his other hand he propped up the head and slowly removed the dented helmet.
    Blood flowed freely over Swindon's face, but when his head was free a bald patch with pale white skin could be seen where his skull should have been caved in. It was a miracle. His legs stopped twitching and his eyes blinked, looking back and forth at all the people around him.
    "What happened? Why am I on the ground?"
    Nobody spoke. Bron had no words for what had just happened. Everyone continued to stare at their comrade in disbelief. The drawn out silence was slowly being broken by whispers. Bron heard his men mumble about the water and the spring. Questions were arising to which the soldiers expected answers, but he had none.
    He looked at Rud who was trying to explain to Swindon what had happened. Rud had known. He had drunk the water against Bron's orders. Bron had to do something and quick. The men were becoming more uneasy by the second.
    "Alright men. Back to your posts. Get Swindon to the surgeon to have him looked at." Rud helped him up. "Not you, Rud. You're coming with me."
    The soldier nodded and followed as Bron turned to go back to his office. They strode through the camp and when they were inside, Bron quickly shut the door and confronted Rud.
    "Tell me all you know."
    "I already did, Sir. I'm sorry I disobeyed your order, but there was this uncontrollable urge. I was fascinated by the spring the moment I set foot into the cave. When I had the chance to drink from it, I didn't hesitate." Rud stood rigid, arms behind his back, chin up.
    Bron paced back and forth in front of his man, sighed and took a seat at his desk. "How do you feel now? Anything unnatural? Sickness or dizziness?"
    "No, Sir. I haven't felt this healthy in a long time. I think the spring is a gift from the Gods."
    Bron tapped his fingers on the desk. He looked up at Rud, who was resolute and burning with vigor. There was a spark in his eyes. "You're dismissed."
    "Yes, Sir." Rud turned to leave.
    "And no talk of the spring or of the Gods. I don't want this to get out of control."
     A curt nod and he was out. Bron hoped he would keep his mouth shut, but even if he did, twenty other men saw the miracle. He didn't know what really happened. Was it the Gods or some kind of magic. It didn't matter. Bron didn't have enough information to know how safe it was. He needed to find out more before deciding what to do.

   

Rud

Rud entered the cavern.
    He had run up ahead to see what it looked like without a torch. He wasn't disappointed. The lake was more than a hundred paces across. The water pitch black, but at the far end of the cavern a silvery light spilled from the ceiling, trickling down into the lake.
    There was something divine about that silvery stream of water. If not from the Gods, it had to be some kind of magic. Rud longed to touch it, maybe even taste it. What would it be like?
    "Come on, men!" Captain Bron entered the cavern with a torch and like that all of the wonder was stolen from the cavern.
    Rud squinted and tried to see the silvery water, but all he could make out was a faint shimmer. He could still hear it trickle in the distance, but that was all.
    "Get the boat into the water." Bron directed the four men behind him. "I need two of you to row me over to the spring."
    "I'll do it!" Rud tried not to sound too eager, but there was no way he was going to give up the chance to be up close to it.
    Bron rose an eyebrow at him and smirked. "Alright! Rud and... Farley. You three take the stretcher and get those bodies outside. Bury them in front of the cliff entrance. That will make this place easier to find."
    The men heaved the small boat into the lake and got to work. Farley stayed put and kept the boat steady for Bron to climb aboard. Rud was about to get in as well, when the captain turned.
    "And nobody drink from the lake. I don't care how thirsty you are. If you don't have anything left in your waterskin then wait. We don't know what killed those men and I don't want it to happen to you as well."
    "What about the spring?" Rud looked at Bron hopefully.
    "I don't want to take any chances. We'll take a sample, that's all."
    Rud got aboard and Farley pushed them off. They each had a paddle and they made their way across the lake at a steady pace. Rud's left arm burned with every stroke. He had been wounded in the battle, but until now he had been able to rest. Each strenuous pull made him feel the stitches strain against each other. He hoped they wouldn't tear.
    Bron held the torch up high. It's flickering light reflecting off of the water. Rud could see the shimmering grow closer. His sweaty palms grasped the paddle and he rowed on. They were getting closer with each stroke.
    "Whoever built this boat did a half-assed job." Farley grunted with another stroke. "My boots are getting soaked."
    Rud looked down into the bilge frowning. He hadn't noticed the water sloshing back and forth. his boots were also wet and now that he was paying attention he started to feel the water seep into them.
    "We couldn't expect expert craftsmanship. Just keep rowing. It will get us there and back." The captain just kept on looking ahead toward the spring. The leak was no more than a slight nuisance to him. Rud thought they must be thinking the same thing. Only the spring in their minds.
     They kept on rowing. The ache in his arm becoming worse. The only thing that stopped him from complaining was that divine glow. They were no more than fifteen feet away and he could see how the shimmering water from the spring made a puddle within the black water of the lake. It was as if the two fluids repelled each other.
    "Slow down now. I don't want us to go through it. I just want to get close enough to have some of it drip into my flask." Bron eased himself forward over the prow.
    Farley and Rud slowed their rowing and tried to bring the boat to a gentle stop. the captain stretched his hand, holding the flask, out toward the silvery water dripping down from above. He was still a foot short.
    "A little bit closer."
    Rud and Farley stroked once. It was more than enough and the captain drew back quickly before the spring could trickle onto his arm. He carefully held out his flask and let it fill up. Rud longed to stretch out his own arm, just to feel it. He was so close now, he couldn't just turn back without at least risking it.
    "That's enough. Take me back to shore." Bron put the stopper on his flask and hid it away in his pocket.
    Farley started to turn the boat around and the captain was already looking to shore. Now was his only chance. Rud swiveled his paddle around to help turn the boat and when neither of the others could see he reached out and cupped his hand to catch some of the spring water. Without another thought he drew his hand to his mouth and drank.
    He shouldn't have acted so quickly on impulse. He should have thought about it more, but as he felt that fresh water slide down his throat his only regret was to not have savored it more. It was over and done with and he hadn't even been able to really enjoy it.
    As they rowed back to the entrance of the cavern, Rud thought about what he had done. He didn't quite know what he had expected, but he definitely thought that there would have been more to the spring than just plain water. Now that he had tasted it and nothing special had happened he wasn't so sure.
    It wasn't until they reached the shore and he jumped out of the boat to push it out of the lake that Rud noticed something. His arm wasn't hurting anymore.

   

Bron III

Bron was making his rounds through the camp. Life was beginning to settle down into normal patterns in and outside of the mines. Fresh water still had to be brought from the river on a daily basis. Everything else was going as planned.
    Bron hoped that he would be moved to a new position soon. Overseeing the camp should have nothing to do with his military rank as Captain. He only remained in charge, because the Orcs were still a threat.
    He didn't much relish the thought of going back into combat, having to face those beings, but there was the possibility of getting some time off before being reassigned. Maybe he would be able to visit Mary and his sons.
    "Captain! Captain Bron! We've found it. We've found it." Ethan, a scout, came galloping toward him on a horse.
    "Calm down, soldier." Bron stood tall, his arm still in a sling. "What did you find?"
    Ethan climbed off his horse and saluted his captain. "The spring, Sir. We found a path leading into the mountains. There's a whole lake in a large cavern."
    "Excellent, lad. Let's get some men and barrels to transport the water."
    Ethan looked worried.
    "What is it, soldier? Don't hesitate. Tell me!"
    "I think it might be better for you to see for yourself, Sir. It's no ordinary spring, you see."
    "What does that mean?" Ethan seemed lost for words. "Fine! Saddle up my horse. I'll met you in the stables."
    They were on there way a few minutes later. Ethan riding ahead at a fast pace. The rough pace was painful for Bron's ribs and handling the horse with one arm in a sling, didn't make it easier. The were getting further and further away from camp, making him doubt the spring would be worth the trouble.
    Finally, they arrived at a marked spot. A sheer rock cliff rose above them. It did not look like there was anything special and had it not been marked, Bron would have ridden past. Ethan got off of his horse and after Bron did the same, the scout lead both of their animals to a tree to tie up the reins.
    "We passed this spot many times over the last couple of days without noticing anything special." Ethan walked up to a wall of solid rock and slipped inside. He came back out. "I don't know how I saw it, but it was here all along."
    Bron stepped up and inspected the spot. It was fascinating. A natural looking occurrence that made the wall look solid. A trick of the light that didn't let you see that there was an entrance point. No wonder they had been searching for days.
    Ethan led the way through the winding path. Solid rock rose above them on both sides. "It leads deep into the mountains. It'll take about half an hour to get to the spring."
    Bron followed slowly, his ribs still aching from the battle and the ride. He wondered why Ethan was being so secretive. Why didn't he just tell him what he had found? The path was leading up the mountain, the trail becoming more hazardous. Getting water from the spring would definitely not be worth all this trouble, but Ethan seemed to think it was important for Bron to see it.
    Ethan had gone ahead and had reached the entrance to a cave. He was holding a torch, waiting for Bron. "It's right in here."
    Bron followed and they soon entered a great cavern. There was a slight chill in the air and Bron could see his breath escape his mouth. The torchlight reflected off the water of the lake that spread out before them. Bron thought he saw something twinkle more than a hundred paces across the lake, but he couldn't be sure through the glare of the torch.
    "There's plenty of water here and it doesn't smell spoiled, but I haven't dared to drink it." Ethan stood by the edge of the water.
    "Why is that?" Bron could hear something trickle in the distance. The spring.
    Ethan moved along the shore. The light of the torch flickered and threw shadows on the cavern walls. Three dark shadows remained unmoved by the light. It wasn't until he smelled them that Bron realized that the shadows were bodies.
    "Their water pouches are empty and they have no more food. There are several burnt torches near them. They must have stayed here for a while. Their coats have the King's sigil on them. They were probably sent here a bit more than a month ago."
    Bron took a closer look at them. The bodies were beginning to decompose, but they didn't look like they had been dead for more than two weeks. Bron had seen many dead men and knew what they looked like as time passed. Maybe the chill of the cavern slowed the natural process.
    A few features could still be distinguished. Cracked lips, hollowed cheeks and eyes sunken deep into their sockets. Considering the state the bodies were in, Bron would have guessed that they died of thirst and hunger.
    It made no sense. Unless the water wasn't good. But then why didn't they go somewhere else for water and food? Why stay here?
    "Captain?" Ethan looked excited as he turned to look across the lake. "There's one other thing I wanted to show you."
    Bron stood and turned to where the scout was looking. He still thought he could see something twinkling in the distance, but nothing could prepare him for what he saw when Ethan extinguished the torch.

   

Bron II

Bron and his men had received new orders from the commander. The Orc's had abandoned the mines and with some scouting done Bron was sure that they had left no traps or any other kind of dangers. The camp was moving in and started building some houses for miners to settle in. The only problem was fresh water. The closest source for that was the former Orc settlement.
     There was however a note in the commander's orders that spoke of some kind of spring in the mountains. Bron was supposed to make up a scouting party whose sole purpose it was to find the spring. If they found that, then their water troubles would be over. He decided to make up three scouting parties instead. That way they could cover more ground.
     "Captain Bron! The scouting parties have been assembled and are in search of the spring." A soldier came to stand next to him.
     "Alright. Back to your post!"
     Bron began his tour of the camp, checking if everything was in order. His arm was still in a sling, ribs and head still bandaged. He must look pretty fatigued, but he kept his back straight and his men greeted him with respect as he passed.
     He thought back to the fight and to how fortunate he had been. The Orc had been on top of him and could have killed him easily, but he was still alive. He got lucky. That was all. It could have been over just as easily.
     Bron wasn't so much worried about his own life. It was the things he would miss. The people who he would never see again. Who would never see him. Mary, Alexander and Gregory. Alexander was almost a grown man now. He would probably join the military soon, like his father. He would be able to watch out over his mother and little brother, if anything were to happen to Bron. He was was sure of it.
     However, he wouldn't want the boy to step in his shoes too soon. He was alive. That's all that mattered. He just hoped he could get some time on leave soon to see his family. Just in case. It had been a close call. He would really like to see them all again.
     A rider came galloping up the road. One of his scouts from the camp's perimeter. He was in a hurry. Bron tensed. Were the Orcs coming back to take what was theirs? Was it too late for him to see his family again?
     "Captain Bron! There's news from the capital."
     "Let's hear it!" The tension left his body. They weren't under attack. He'd prepared his men for the possibility of an assault, but if the Orcs came in force, he didn't know if they could put up much of a fight. Many of his men were still wounded like himself.
     The scout unrolled a piece of parchment. "Dire news has reached the capital from several villages on the northern borders of the kingdom. They have been raided by Orcs. Most inhabitants have been killed. Men, women and children"
     Bron had been expecting this news, just not so soon. The Orcs were out for retribution. Doing to them what they had done to the Orcs. They were just doing more of it. His actions had truly just been the beginning.
     "What are the King's orders? Have you word from the commander? Something must be done to protect the other villages." His family lived in Freshire, a village in the east. They were safe for now, but who knew for how much longer?
     "It doesn't say, but I've heard rumors of a special battalion being trained to fight these beasts."
     Good! It seemed the chancellor had listened. Bron wondered how the new trainees would fair. They better do well, because war was coming.

   

Damien

Chancellor Damien and his guards arrived at noon. The attack on the Orc settlement had already been performed by Captain Bron. From afar everything looked satisfactory. Tents and huts were afire and many bodies of those grisly beasts could be seen scattered about. Only when Damien and his men came closer did he see their own casualties.
     Too many dead and wounded. They were supposed to slaughter these ghastly women and their hell spawn. How could so many have put up a fight? He didn't understand these beasts, but it seems he and the commander had both underestimated their strength.
One of Captain Bron's scouts came riding towards him. "Chancellor Damien, sir! The settlement is ours."
     "I can see that. Take me to Captain Bron!"
     "Sir... he was wounded during the fighting."
     "Is he conscious?"
     "Yes, sir!"
     "Then take me to him. Now!"
     "Yes, sir!" The scout rode off. Damien and his men followed.
     A tent for the wounded had been set up outside the settlement. More and more of the men who had taken injuries were heading towards it. Guards were posted by the entrance. They stood at attention as soon as they saw Damien arrive.
     "He's inside. May I return to my post, sir? Who knows if the Orcs will retaliate." The scout rained in his horse, but seemed eager to get back. That was good. He knew his duty.
     "Yes, yes. Go ahead, soldier." Damien got down from his horse and entered the tent. His men stayed outside. Maybe that would help the other two guards stay at attention.
     The tent reeked of blood and other bodily fluids. Why had so many been wounded. This was supposed to be an easy victory. Damien discovered Captain Bron in the back, a bandage around his chest and his head and one arm in a sling. He got up from his cot and stood at attention.
     "Chancellor, sir! Does the commander have more orders?" He seemed fit enough, even though he must have taken quite a beating.
     "Camp here and have your scouts keep an eye on the mines. You might want to fortify the camp with ditches and stakes. Who knows how those beasts will react to our advances."
     "Yes, sir. Those of my men that are able are already digging. The commander can rely on us, sir."
     "I also wanted to hear a detailed account of how the attack went. I can see that there are more casualties than I and the commander expected. Can you tell me how this happened?"
     "Sir... maybe we could step outside for a moment?" The captain looked around at his wounded men. He seemed uneasy talking about the fight in front of them. Damien couldn't understand why, but he nodded his consent. Captain Bron threw a jacket over his shoulders, covering the bandaged ribs and the sling.
     They left the tent together and headed towards the settlement. Damien's guards held a respectable distance. As they got closer, Damien could see more and more of the Orc bodies. Their swamp-like skin color mixed with the red of their blood. That and their frozen, dead faces set in anguish made them look even more like hideous demons of nature.
     "It happened early on during the fighting." Captain Bron began as they were finally out of earshot from others. "There was a male Orc still in the camp. He knocked me off my horse... I'm lucky he didn't kill me. Unlike the ten he did kill or maim, before he escaped."
     "You're telling me you let that beast get away?" How could such a thing manage all that? Ten soldiers, defeated by one of them.
     "They are smarter and stronger than you would think. Even the women fought hard and killed several. Quite a few escaped with their children as well."
     "Don't compare their kind with ours. They are beasts, all of them. Understood, Captain?"
     "Yes, sir!" Captain Bron stood at attention. He seemed tense, but he was a good man. A good soldier.
     "Good. Now, do you have anything you want me to tell the commander? I'll be on my way again immediately."
     "My men were well trained, but they had no chance against a grown male Orc. If this turns into a war, sir. Then we need to be better prepared. We need to train men that can fight these..."
     "Beasts!" Damien realized that the captain didn't like calling them that, but that's what they were. "I will inform the commander. We will have to begin training immediately. You've assumed correctly. This was only the beginning and war is coming!"

   

Grim

Grim awoke with a start. His head was pounding. He shouldn't have had so much ale the night before. As always, he had probably overslept. He'd be late, getting to the mines.
     The pounding in his head was still bad, but it didn't explain the shouting coming from outside his tent. It wasn't just shouting, there were screams and the ring of metal on metal. The sounds of battle.
     As soon as his brain processed the information, Grim jumped up and out of his tent, wearing nothing but a loincloth. His muddled mind cleared as he viewed the scene of carnage. humans were attacking the females and the broodlings. He had to do something.
     Grim had forgotten his battle axe in his tent, but that didn't mean he was less of a threat. The grayish green skin of his arms was thick and taut with muscles. Orcs were strong beings, even as little broods, but working in the mines, chipping away at the hard mountain stone, had made Grim even stronger than most.
He saw a human on a horse, raising a bloody sword to strike down a broodling. Grim would hesitate no longer. He ran off in a sprint and dove at the human, knocking him from his horse, to the ground. The human looked dazed from the fall and was surely in pain, with Grim's weight pressing down on him.
     Grim grabbed the fallen sword and turned to the broodling who had grabbed a spear. The brave little fellow wanted to fight, but with the other grown grunts at the mines there was little hope. "Run. Gather as many as you can and run to the mines. I'll distract the humans."
     The brood looked at him defiantly, he really wanted to fight. Grim gave him a stern look and then the little one gave up and nodded that he would obey. The brood gave a shout of alarm as a human came running towards Grim yelling something or other about a Captain Bron.
     Grim got off the human, who had passed out, and strode towards the one coming at him. A brutal slash with his sword almost cut the human in half. Now Grim had two swords.
     The broodling was still watching him with awe. "Go, dammit! Run and save the others." The broodling nodded and ran off.
     More humans came running at him. Grim roared in fury and cut them down. Striking with the sword in his left hand and then the one in his right. One of the soldiers managed to slash his arm. The pain only made him angrier. He buried one of the swords in the man's skull.
     Another soldier came at him with a spear. He was careful and poked at Grim from a distance, always jumping back when Grim tried to engage. The fight ended with Grim taking a spear wound to the leg and the soldier taking Grim's sword to the chest.
     Weaponless Grim searched for his next foe. The rage of battle was upon him and even though the wound in his leg gave him a slight limp, he was itching for another human to kill.
     He saw a trail of females running from the settlement with their broodlings in tow. He ran towards the edge of the settlement to block the path of any humans who might try to follow.
     The sights he saw made his blood boil. Tents and huts afire. Dead females who had tried to protect their young. Dead broodlings, barely thirteen summers old, who thought they could fight like berserkers. Dead Orcs all around.
     Five humans were following the females. Grim had to stop them. He grabbed an axe from a dead broodling's fingers and attacked. He hacked off one soldier's sword hand, who fell to his knees screaming. He knocked another aside with his free hand, before the human could strike. The third soldier slashed at his chest. Red blood ran down Grim's stomach. He roared in pain. Anger reaching new heights within him.
     Grim hauled his big axe and felled two men with one stroke. The axe remained in one of the bodies as they fell away. The soldier he had knocked aside lay on the ground, but he raised his sword and slashed Grim's thigh, before Grim's large fist knocked him out.
Two wounds to the same leg made his limp a lot worse. He grimaced in pain as he faced the last human. The man only had a dagger, probably having lost his sword during the fighting. He circled Grim cautiously. Anticipating an attack, Grim waited and quickly grabbed the human's arm when it came.
Grim tried to twist the blade aside, but it still cut a deep gash in the skin of his ribcage. He still had ahold of the man's arm though and he pulled him close so that he could bite into his neck. It tasted horrible, but Grim's large tusks left a grievous wound behind. The soldier collapsed, trying to scream, but only gurgling his blood.
The females and broodlings had made it far enough. Grim was panting from exhaustion and blood loss. He wouldn't be able to fight much longer. He had done what was necessary to give the others a chance to escape. That's all that mattered.
Another human on a horse rode around a burning hut and spotted him. Grim didn't know if there was much he could do. The man had a spear and was riding straight at him. Grim couldn't fight any longer, but his warrior instincts still reacted to threats. As the spear thrust came, Grim dodged and grabbed the rider, throwing him off his horse.
Grim didn't much like the beasts, but he would be faster riding it than he would be limping after the others on his bad leg. With the last of his strength he straddled the horse and rode off. Leaving the burning settlement behind.

   

Bron

"Captain Bron. What are our orders, sir?"

     Bron looked at the Orc settlement in the distance. Atop his horse he had a clear view. Wooden huts and leather tents were scattered in a large area. It didn't seem like the Orcs had much structure, but it was a settlement nonetheless. His men camped behind a hill, out of the sight. They were waiting for the commander's orders.

     Bron held the official document in his hand. The commander's order to attack the settlement. He gave no reason, he didn't have to. He was the commander. But Bron knew why they were here. Why they were supposed to attack.

     Behind the settlement loomed the Blacktop Mountains. Many resources could be extracted from them. Coal, iron and more metals, but most importantly: gold. Gold. That's what this was about. That's why Bron would have to give the order to attack women and children. All the male Orcs will have gone to the mines by now. The settlement would be defenseless. Well, not completely defenseless. They were Orcs after all. Even their females and children would put up a fight. Bron would have to keep that in mind when he and his men attacked. Orcs were dangerous, no matter what age or gender.

     The soldier next to him cleared his throat. "Captain?"

     Bron sighed. It was time. "Prepare the men for the attack. Commander's orders!"

     "Yes, sir!" The soldier left to perform his duties.

     It wouldn't take long. Bron had heard some of the men tell rumors that they were just here to scout the terrain. That the King wouldn't want to start a war with the Orcs. But most thought the King a reckless fool. They thought they were here to do just that. And they were right.

     In less than ten minutes his battalion of about one hundred men was ready. He raised his arm and let it drop, signalling the attack. A horn blew. He and his ten scouts dashed ahead on their horses. The rest came running after them, shouting and screaming. The settlement was sure to hear them, but there wouldn't be much they could do. They were outnumbered and his men were well trained. It wouldn't take long to slaughter them.

     Bron rode into the fray, sword in hand. A female Orc came running out of one of the wooden huts. She charged at him with a spear, screaming.

     Bron had thought it might be morally difficult to kill these women, but in the face of danger his instincts kicked in. He deflected her spear with a swing of his sword and as the momentum of her charge brought her closer, his backstroke cut her down.

     Immediately, another female came at him. He cut her down as well. His scouts were spreading out, doing the same. The fastest of the men on foot were starting to pour into the settlement. The rest followed.

     There was movement to his right and he turned to attack. It was an Orc child, a boy. Bron hesitated. Females that attacked him were one thing, children were another. The boy looked shocked and confused. A man atop a horse, towering over him. With Orc blood spattered on his armor and more dripping from his sword. The kid must have been scared.

     It was Bron's duty to slay him. He had his orders. But still he hesitated. Until the child's shock turned into rage. The boy jumped to grab a fallen spear. Bron had no choice and raised his bloody sword.