Skirmish (Bitrayuul): Maul
Follow along each week for Skirmishes of characters of the Orcblood Legacy Series. These are real events that take place during the story’s timeline but are not detailed in the book.
Thankfully, the vicious trolls had not noticed him yet. Bitrayuul slowly rose to his feet, careful not to make even the slightest noise. The beasts continued to cackle in delight as every time they slid their blade across Theiran’s skin a new line of blood followed.
The dwarf, no novice to pain, simply stared at them with a face hardened and grim. His captors must have grown tired of his insults, for the senator had been bound and gagged. Though a dozen new wounds could be seen, the worst was where his left ear had been ripped off before being pulled into the mines. Blood continued to slowly pour down his neck in a thick ooze.
To the left, Bitrayuul watched as a pair of the creatures carefully inspected the dwarf’s finally crafted maul. Even together they could hardly lift the dense hammer, but he could tell by the sinister look on their faces that they had considered using it for their own devious purposes.
Bitrayuul took a slow breath. His body ached from exhaustion and wounds alike. He had no weapons other than a single bone-spiked fist—a useless tool against such enemies. The half-orc pondered his next move. After such great efforts to reach the senator, he had finally reached him.
Now what? I can’t fight them all, not without fire.
Staring around the small opening, the half-orc prayed he would find a small torch. But it was useless. These creatures feared fire more than anything else, there was no chance they’d carry something with them that could provide it.
What’s the point? We’re going to die here anyway. I’m going to get what I came for.
As if nothing else mattered, Bitrayuul rushed forward as silently as possible to the pair holding the maul. Stabbing one troll through the neck with his remaining gauntlet, it’s attempted wail of pain was muffled by gargling blood in its throat. He paid it no mind, knowing it would soon heal and be back in the fray. The half-orc’s attention immediately turned to the next troll. Luckily, as the first he had struck grasped its neck in agony, the heavy maul dropped from its arms and crushed the foot of the remaining creature. This time, unfortunately, its howls of pain were not stifled and the rest of their group turned in curiosity.
Once their gazes met the intruder, they were up in a heartbeat with daggers in hand. Theiran managed to kick out at one as it passed, tripping it to the stone. Before it could react, the bound dwarf lifted his boot and brought his heel down hard onto the beast’s skull. A squelching noise came, paired with a groan of pain from the troll beneath. But the dwarf didn’t stop. His boot raised again and again, slamming into the troll’s skull repetitively until it shattered bone.
Bitrayuul took the maul from the temporarily incapacitated duo and lifted it in the air. He was amazed at just how heavy the weapon was as it threw him off balance. Luckily, his back foot slid outwards to catch him enough to divert the hammer forward—straight into the first approaching troll. It’s skull blew apart in an explosion of blood and bone shards as it fell beneath the thick steel.
Even with four of their adversaries currently disabled—yet mending quickly—the last two continued their charge toward the half-orc. Bitrayuul strained to pull the heavy maul back into the air in time, but he was too slow. His eyes clenched in pain as the stone blade in his opponent’s grip sliced through the side of his lifted shoulder, barely avoiding his neck. Luckily, as the other dagger came in, he managed to intercept it with his left-hand, blocking the sharp edge with the bones along his knuckles.
In the moment that the troll began reversing its momentum to swipe at Bitrayuul again, the young warrior had managed to bash outward with the hammer, driving the troll back into its ally. From behind the backpedalling beasts, Theiran leapt onto the back of the furthest creature. He had cut himself free with the dropped dagger from the troll he had disabled and cut the throat of the rear troll.
“Me hammer, lad!” the dwarf called out while tossing Bitrayuul the dagger.
On instinct alone the half-orc tossed the maul toward the senator, forgetting about the troll between them. As the weapon lobbed forward, the poor creature tried to catch it but the item proved too heavy. Beneath the hefty steel, the troll fell to the ground at Theiran’s feet. The dwarf didn’t miss a beat. He bent to grab the hammer from the troll and immediately pulled an odd stone from his belt and struck it against the head of his weapon as hard as he could.
Bitrayuul had to cover his eyes as the stone produced a hundred bright sparks in the cave, igniting the troll that the senator had cut. In a burst of fire, the troll wailed in agony and rolled on the ground in feeble attempt to extinguish itself. The half-orc still stood defensively with the dagger in hand, though the remaining five trolls all scrambled in fear as their wounds still began mending.
In the midst of the chaos, Theiran walked confidently over to Bitrayuul, completely disregarding the frantic trolls. As if on cue, the single flaming troll bumped into one of its allies in its desperation, igniting the next. Then the next. Within moments, five of the group were engulfed in flames and screeching in the cave. The last, unwounded, ran down the tunnel in the opposite direction in fear for its life.
Staring blankly at the dwarf, Bitrayuul could only blink at how quickly the scale had tipped in their favor. He opened his mouth multiple times to speak, but could not find the words.
Thankfully, Theiran held no such lack. “Time to go home, son.”