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Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!
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"What's he saying...?" Sam asked Albert; because Albert's brow had knitted tightly when he heard the words.
Despite being startled at her question, Albert did not respond. He was worried; deep in thought.
(I thought I'd sent my troops to clear the roads... What in the world are they doing...?) He tried to contact his followers mentally - but there was no response; bringing a chill to his chest.
(What if... No, it couldn't... Could it be the work of those damned schemers...) He cursed internally.
Watching the incoming horde, Albert too made his preparations; reaching into a pocket to grasp a disc-shaped metal talisman, tracing the patterns on its surface.
The same patterns that were on the planar portal a week ago.
He absent-mindedly glanced over at Sam; and was impressed at the look of focus and the battle-spirit emanating from the girl. Sam was staring fixedly at Shadowmane who was built like a minotaur; made doubly impressive by the massive mutant white warg he sat on.
(Is she a born warrior...? It's too bad she's only level 2; she has a strong physique for a human girl...) Albert scanned the girl beside him.
Then his rosy image of her was shattered as he saw her begin to drool; as he noticed her gaze was too low to be on Shadowmane - she was looking at the white warg with craving...
"Looks tasty..." Sam mumbled.
* * * * *
The human defenders were paralysed by fear when they saw the raving orcs charging forward on their wargs; closing the gap with leaps and bounds..
As such, what could have been 2 or even 3 volleys of arrows turned to naught but 2 lone arrows. The defenders could have been routed from the momentum before the charge had even connected; however, those 2 lone arrows wreaked havoc in the orcs charge.
The first arrow accurately pierced the eye of the lead warg; causing it to rear back; stumble and fall, crushing its rider. This is in turn blocked 2 other mounted orcs behind it who could not veer aside in time and crashed right into the first orc and mount pair; causing them to be trampled by the riders directly behind them. The later wargs managed to veer around; but lost much of their momentum.
Then the 2nd arrow arrived - unerringly striking another warg also in its right eye - with the same result; killing 1 rider and mount while disabling 3 more pairs behind it and forcing 3-4 other riders to stop their advance - effectively disrupting the entire first charge.
The hooded mercenary archer smiled; yet weariness and fatigue could be seen on his/her face just from the 2 shots that cost nearly half his/her mana.
The caravan troops were greatly heartened seeing the magnificent shots - regaining their spirits; they too roared in response: "KILL THOSE ORCS!!!!", "FOR MANKIND!!!!" and "I JUST WANT TO GO HOME!!!"
Though it might sound comical, the last roar truly brought forth the utmost instincts of survival in the previously cowed men and women; their front-liners charged forward with the support of the 2 archers and Carl the mage.
15 humans against 17 mounted orcs and 12 foot-soldiers.
And Shadowmane.
Though outnumbered, the men and women fought with their hearts and souls.
It was do or die.
* * * * *
Sam watched as the mercenaries and guards fought surprisingly well.
In their first clash, Khadir, Matilda and Ragnar showed excellent synergy despite being out-leveled by the orcs. Khadir showed exceptional dexterity and agility despite his size; nimbly avoiding an orc's clubbing blow and lopping off its arm in return.
Then when he was about to receive a counter attack from either side; the mounted orc on his left was taken down by consecutive arrows to the throat of both mount and rider; while the foot-soldier orc on the right suddenly collapsed - its hamstrings cut by Jho Low the assassin.
Matilda and Ragnar fought as a pair, shedding blood with every swing of their heavy weapons. Where Matilda's greatsword fell, a limb or extremity would fall with it. And where Matilda could not cover herself; Ragnar's shield - and mace - were waiting to crush a skull.
Wherever a gap opened in their defenses, a quick arrow would flit through the air and incapacitate or outright slay an orc. And where the arrows could not cover, a Level 0 magical cantrip would appear; such as ice to make an orc lose its footing, or spiderwebs in the eyes of another hammer-wielding warrior.
Yet despite the outstanding efforts by the mercenary troupe; they were only 6-men strong.
The 10 guards were not used to such brutal clashes; being merely level 3 to 5; some without even choosing a class. They were quickly culled down to just the captain; Valderos with his short sword and round shield and Paulos himself; a seasoned longsword wielder in his own right.
It was now 8 against 18 - 15 mounted orcs and 3 on foot.
The numbers seemed to be progressing well; but the orcs taken down were mostly juvenile or the weakest adults - none of the raiding party's experts had participated so far. The remaining orcs were fresh and ready.
These were the sub-leaders who had followed Shadowmane over his decade of marauding, growing with him through the years of slaughter and carnage. They now formed a fearsome lineup; battle-hungry and showing no concern for their fallen troops.
And behind the mighty veteran orcs, Shadowmane stood haughtily; yet unlike his sub-leaders, he looked enraged to lose so many orc warriors.
(It's... It's hopeless...) Paulos panted, clutching his left thigh where a warg had sunk its 9 inch long teeth into his flesh. It had not gotten away scot-free; leaving behind its life in the process.
(Wait! We still have...) The caravan leader calculated. But despite their remaining trump card; their chances looked grim. There was no-one to take on Shadowmane himself.
At this point; the burly orc leader grunted loudly; then his white warg lowered its head and kneeled. Shadowmane dismounted deftly; and shrugged off his namesake cloak.
Step by step he approached, from a distance of 120m to 60m - and still closer. Tension began to fill the air as he drew nearer and nearer.
When he arrived at a 30m distance; even the most grizzled warriors Khadir and Paulos began to feel a tightness in their chests - the effects of facing a fearsome and crushingly powerful foe at close range.
"Now! Let my enemies burn! Fireball!!"
A burst of flames erupted over the perimeter of the carriages; the 3m wide ball of molten sun hurtling at high speed towards the dark-skinned orc! The defenders standing near the trajectory of the fireball crouched down hurriedly; wincing in pain as the radiating heat singed their hair and reddened their skin.
The mighty level 3 spell was moving too fast for Shadowmane to dodge! He was left with no choice but to receive it head on with his body!
BOOOOOM!! The fireball impacted on the orc; erupting in flames and covering an area of 5m in radius around the target! Blinded by the intense incendiary explosion, the humans and orcs alike had to cover their eyes to avoid losing their vision.
At that moment, a slim and tall shadow stepped forward; pulling up the legs of her dress to clamber over the surrounding carriages. She hopped down daintily - or at least it looked dainty; as she ended up soaring 10m forward to land in front of Paulos, Khadir and their team!
"You again! Young girl, no!!!" They were too slow to stop her; she had already run forward crazily.
Sam rammed right into the charging Shadowmane; who emerged unscathed from the fireball; only looking slightly darker-skinned from the fire - and even more angry!
BAM! It was a sight to behold.
Paulos, Khadir and the rest would not forget this scene; the incredulous face of the 3m tall orc raid boss as he bounced backwards from the collision with someone incredibly heavy, fast and tough; yet seemingly too miniscule to withstand his charge!
But he could only roar in bewilderment as he was thrown back fiercely from the seemingly casual charge!
The onlooking defenders' jaws dropped; astonished and shocked at the outcome. They had covered their eyes, peeking through the gaps as they couldn't bear to see the level 2 girl turning into a mist of blood and gore in front of the tyrannic charge of Shadowmane. And yet this youth who was not even a third of the gigantic orc's size had matched him - no, had knocked far, far back!
Stumbling backwards uncontrollably; Shadowmane's feet dug into the earth for 10, 15 steps, leaving ditches on the ground as he tried to stabilise himself.
Finally after being thrown off balance for a good 20m, he raised his groggy head to get a clear look at his opponent - and was stunned. The battle-hardened warrior who had ripped off a thousand heads was shell-shocked - enough so that he let down his guard for a brief second and took a ball-crushing kick to his [omitted].
His eyes rolled up in his head; his body curling up fetally as he clutched his [omitted]. Collapsing; he began to froth at the mouth as he would no longer be able to sire a young horde of little orcs.
Even as his followers of 8 years and 10 years gaped in horror and also clutched their [omitted] as they could feel the butt-clenching pain just from the *CRACKING* sound they heard; Shadowmane still managed to hear the last wistful, regretful words as he passed out:
"I... I haven't warmed up yet... Why... Why are you so weak..."
"Oh well, at least the white dog looks tasty!"
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* * * * * FEEDBACK ON COVER * * * * *
(Keeping this up until end of October!)
Which cover do you prefer? Old one or New one? Caucasian Sam or Asian Sam?
Please decide for me!
I'm targeting to commission a new cover at 500k views; custom made from scratch!
Orcish dictionary: http://www.angelfire.com/ia/orcishnations/englishorcish.html
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