DORULL SAGA - SWAMP OF DEATH
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It was an early dawn when Grodish
left his chambers. Zhinnaeg was still asleep, bar fifty odd soldiers, stationed
in the lookouts and guard posts hidden throughout the entire crag. Tired,
after a night of long watch, they were eagerly awaiting for the shift, which
was due in about an hour. Sudden appearance of the new king surprised them a
bit. But Grodish had no intentions to stop and bother them. He was heading for
the main watchtower.
The climb to the top of it would
usually take around twenty or so minutes. Narrow, spiral staircase carved
through the tower led all the way up. Spear from the skies, as the orcs
were calling this natural stone formation, was a tower, in the exact center of
the town. And it did resemble the spear. Its pointy top was often covered in
clouds. But today was bright and sunny. Grodish could see the lookout.
Small, rectangular holes, every
twenty feet or so, let just enough light through the thick walls of the tower.
It must’ve taken months, perhaps even years, to dig all the way to the top.
Tedious, monotonous climb, gave the half-orc time to reflect on everything that
happened in the past couple of months.
Roshnak warned him about the
numerous dangers of the swamp. And he wasn’t exaggerating. Something Grodish
found out, not a couple of hours, after they arrived in Tanmar. In the space of
a couple of weeks, he had more battles than in his entire life. Half-orc now
understood why Roshnak insisted on taking it slow, if he was to achieve what he
came in here for. And he was on the good path. His fighting skill grew. With
it, so was his confidence. He was now leading an army.
But then again, challenges ahead of
him were considerably tougher, than all of those before, put together. For the
young king, everything till now was just a practice. And he was eager for more.
Following the shaman, Grodish became fearless. Some would say it was the usual
trait of the young, inexperienced warriors, but half-orc learned to trust in
his abilities. That was one of the reasons he became a king of Zhinnaeg. Broolg
underestimated his young challenger, and before he realized his mistake, it was
too late.
Whiff of fresh air brushed
half-orc’s face. He was close to the top. Sun just came out from behind Laorn,
blinding him for a moment. In the next, he saw the faces of sleeping soldiers,
to the left of the exit. They were leaning their backs against another’s, to be
sure they didn't fall from this flimsy lookout nest. Grodish had no intentions
to wake them up, but his steps interrupted their light sleep. Well embarrassed,
at first they did not know what to do. Or even to say.
“Get some proper rest boys.” half-orc
waved them off, to their relief.
He had no reason to discipline
them.
Soldiers saluted, rushing down the
steep and narrow stairs. New king had forgiven them, this time. They would be
much more careful, not to disappoint him anymore. Former king had a habit of
changing his decisions on a whim. This new, they did not have a chance to
acquaint themselves with yet. It was better just to leave, while they still
could. But Grodish did not care for their lapse. He was pleased to stay alone
on the lookout.
View of the swamp was breathtaking.
It seemed as if the entire place sat on half-orc’s palm. He could spot
anything miles away. No wonder, Zhinnaeg had a reputation of being
unconquerable. From this position, one could easily see the invaders, more than
three days away. Grodish turned around a bit, but the Laorn peaks were just too
high for him to see the Chaygor. Only a couple of weeks in this swamp were more
than enough to start yearning for the homeland. One more reason to carry out
his vengeance fast.
First ones that will feel his rage
were going to be those Gollvin miners. Humans will predictably answer to this
declaration of war, drawing his mother’s killer out, in the open. Only in the
death of that man, Grodish could find his inner peace. There was no doubt in
his mind, he would manage to do it. After all of this, he simply could not
afford to fail.
Loud, piercing sound of horn echoed
through Zhinnaeg, signaling the change of the guards. It also meant, it was time
for Grodish to leave the lookout. Planning the attack will take the majority of
the several next days. But that didn’t bother him. In fact, the young king
secretly looked forward to it.
Miner’s town was dug deep inside
the mountains, perhaps even more than Zhinnaeg. Grodish took one last look
towards the west. There, protected by the sharp edged cliffs and slopes of
Laorn, was Gollvin. Soon to be orcish, miner town.
