Skirmish (Cormac): Raiders

Skirmish (Cormac): Raiders

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.

The first orc closed in, eager for the kill. From behind, the rest of the raiders were close on its heels—all seeking the easy victim. 

But Cormac, against his most base urges to lash out on instinct, waited with determination. He didn’t care if he killed them all before he fell, just a few. Each shield was held firmly in place in anticipation.

As the nearest orc’s iron blade came plummeting down, the creature’s face elated at the thought of cracking open the dwarf’s skull. Instead, the sword was met with the thick steel of Cormac’s shield. Before the bloodthirsty orc realized it’s attack had been halted, the dwarf stabbed deep into its thigh. With a yelp of surprise, the orc fell backward, frantically trying to staunch the black liquid that poured from its severed artery.

One down, Cormac thought.

There was no time for reflection, the next two orcs were upon him and the others were beginning to flank him. Taking the initiative before he was completely surrounded, the dwarven guard bravely charged toward the pair of beats in front of him. The orcs were taken aback by his sudden offensiveness and were caught off-guard. With a well-aimed strike to the heart, one of the raiders fell to its knees while Cormac’s other shield slammed into the other’s forearm, pressing the orc’s own blade into its neck. Gargling its own blood, that creature too fell to the ground and desperately attempted to stop its lifeblood from spilling onto the ground.

With three down, the odds were increasing. However, nine still remained and had now circled Cormac. The lust in their eyes lingered, but a spark of hesitation had crept into each raider. This time, five leapt in at once, seeking to overwhelm the stalwart guard.

Certainly outnumbered, Cormac would never be able to fight all at once. His only hope was to reduce the number of attackers in any way he could. Thinking quickly, rather than remaining in position, the dwarf rolled to the right desperately. With luck alone, only a single orc’s swing managed to clip him, glancing harmlessly off his shield as he tumbled. 

Cormac was back on his feet in an instant—blades leading the way. He plunged both of his shield’s blades into the nearest orc and charged forward using the creature’s body as a shield to block it’s neighboring ally’s follow-up swing. The ferocity of the second orc’s cleave caused it to cut through Cormac’s meat-shield, forcing him to disengage before he was overrun once more. 

Using the dead orc’s body to obscure the raider’s vision of him, the dwarf slid to his knees and plunged his weapons into the second orc’s feet. In a disadvantageous position, the three other orcs fell upon him without relent. Their insatiable bloodlust led the trio to attack him simultaneously instead of ensuring the kill by alternating their assault, allowing Cormac to lift a single shield above his head to deflect their approaching weapons. While protected, he took advantage of their carelessness and cut deep into each of their exposed thighs—always aiming for that same artery that he knew would incapacitate them. 

Eight. More than half. Cormac still refused to believe in victory. All that mattered was exacting a toll.

As the three raiders around him fell to the ground clutching their wounds, the last four rushed in before he could stand. They seemed to have been watching from their ally’s mistakes, as they no longer attacked in unison. The first attack came from Cormac’s left—met with a raised shield. The next from his right—again met with a shield. But the third came from above, aiming for his skull, and he had nothing left to block with.