Chapter 4: The Royal Assignment
Vetreth ran his finger down the length blade drawing blood. It's still sharp after all these years. He thought to himself. He performed a few practice swings into the air, narrowly avoiding embedding the sword into the wall. He was not used to the weight of the sword. Its balance was slightly off for a sword of its size but he would grow used to it in time. Besides, he had defeated those brutes using nothing but a coil of rope, now he was properly armed they stood no chance.
He left his house and returned to his horse. The sun was beginning to grow low in the sky, he must have spent more time in his house than he'd realised. He looked around the horizon for any sign of Orcs but for as far as he could see there was nothing but farmland for miles around. But in one direction Vetreth saw a slight sign of movement. Dust was being kicked up into the air in an unusual manner. It can't be horses, the dust would be much higher up. Vetreth thought to himself. He pushed his horse into a full gallop, determined to reach those brutes before the day was over.
As he rode the sun had finally set and the moon was beginning its long ascent to the centre of the sky. From here his house was merely a dark splotch in the distance and after a few moments it disappeared completely. As he travelled further and further away from it Vetreth couldn't shake the feeling that it was the last time he'd be seeing that house.
He finally reached the spot he had seen in the distance and looked around for a moment. There was no sign of Orcs now but there were some foot prints belonging to no animal he recognised leading off into the farmland. He dismounted and followed them on foot, his horse would only slow him down on the uneven farmland. After another twenty minutes of travel he reached a rocky outcrop and beyond it he could see an auburn glow. His hand held over the hilt of his sword, he climbed to the top of it and found a small campfire beyond it.
Sitting around the campfire were three of the ugliest brutes he had ever seen, they were clothed in rags of a material he did not recognise and they were all holding bloody implements of war. Their faces were contorted into the evil shapes of those that enjoy killing too much. On the camp fire in front of the Orcs was a human torso, placed upon a makeshift spit and being slowly turned by one of the Orcs. The sight of this put Vetreth over the edge. He thrust his helmet upon his head and started roaring with rage, his sword brandished wildly above his head. He reached the closest Orc before it had much time to react and cleaved its head straight from its body causing an explosion of gore and the head to roll upon the fire. The other Orcs roared with fury at the site of this and both drew their dual cleavers and started screaming menacingly at Vetreth. He had a moment of paralysis but as soon as he thought of Yvette's body he was freed from his fear and set upon laying into the Orcs with rapid sword strokes.
The sword strokes did not do much damage to the Orcs but the speed of the strikes caused them to be too busy parrying his blows to be able to launch any counterattacks of their own. Eventually the sheer overwhelming force of Vetreth's strikes caused an Orc to drop one of its axes and in its confusion Vetreth had a chance to slash straight at its chest, causing a mortal wound to the Orc as it fell to the ground writhing in pain. The other Orc took advantage of this lull in combat to launch upon a series of strikes of his own. Vetreth parried and dodged most of the attacks but the speed of them caused a few minor wounds to get through. The Orc suddenly performed a feint that Vetreth fell for and then brought the handle of the axe straight down onto Vetreth's head.
Vetreth fell to the ground as the world started to spin around him. The Orc emitted a series of deep guttural laughs as it drew in to make the final deadly blow upon Vetreth he lay there looking up at the Orc unable to do anything to save himself. Just as the Orc raised his axe high into the air preparing to strike a spear appeared in his chest, sending him flying backwards away from Vetreth's body. The last thing he saw before succumbing to his concussion was a pair of leather boots strolling slowly towards him.