Nightfall fell, as the last of the sights of the day disappeared. Wolves howled. Crickets chirped. People had begun to put out their candles and hearths, and fall into deep sleep. Peace covered the valleys of southern Laramoth, letting the small nation rest its weary head.

            Aelenis Forbain sat in the guard tower built onto the barracks, smoking a pipe. He had used the last of the tobacco he'd brought with him. If he was lucky, he could buy some off the local villagers, or a traveling salesman. He smoked heavily, though he did not let minor hobbies get in the way of his duty.

            The majority of the soldiers had gone to bed. Some wandered on the grounds; others were getting ready for the night shift. One soldier was in the tower with Aelenis, smoking a pipe as well. Though there laws that prevented soldiers from smoking and drinking while on duty, especially in an area so close to Orc-held territory, Aelenis would often let his soldiers get by now and then, provided they did not take advantage of the privileges he gave them.

            Aelenis looked out one of the open "windows" of the tower. "Quiet tonight..." he said, startling the soldier.

            "Yes. Surprisingly. For the past few weeks, we've had to go out and deal with an unusually large number of unruly peasants and villagers." The soldier replied. "Looks like we're finally getting a break from it all."

            "I hope so..." Aelenis replied. He'd been gone to Laramoth when news of rebellion near the barracks had reached him, and though he'd heard the report hundreds of times now, many soldiers still felt inclined to tell him of the attacks. He didn't mind.

            Aelenis heard a faint rustling noise, which startled him lightly, but didn't fully alarm him. It was most likely a bird or a faun, two of the many unlucky creatures that often wandered into Tor'Skan and not come back. Tor'Skan was known for the large number of predators that stalked the swamplands, whether they were crocodiles, panthers or lions, most of them relished the thought of an unsuspecting animal from Laramoth wandering into their territory. It was normal.

            The rustling noise only grew louder, prompting Aelenis to stand and move over to the window. He looked out, and saw what appeared to be fire. He unlatched the window and looked out. Shadowy figures holding the torches were slowly moving toward the barracks. Aelenis squinted, and saw the form of the figures.

            Orcs.

            Aelenis grabbed his rifle, and ran out the door, followed by the soldier. Aelenis tore open another door slightly down the hallway, and looked upward. A few flights of stairs stood between him and the barracks bell.

            Aelenis raced up the flights of stairs, still being trailed by the soldier. As he ran, he could see more figures emerging from the swamplands, not more than half a mile off. He began to sprint, and reached the bell, tripping over the last stair. He stood up quickly and grabbed the rope to ring it. He used what strength he had left to pull the bell's rope, awakening the soldiers and townsfolk.

            Aelenis turned to the man who'd been following him. "Send word to the townsfolk to gather their belongings, and move outside the village on the escape path! Any men who can wield a weapon will stay here to fight off the attack!"

            The soldier saluted his captain, and moved quickly down the flights of stairs. Aelenis continued to pull the bell, until he saw that the Orcs were no longer caring of stealth. They were running at the barracks head-on.

            Aelenis dashed down the stairs and into his small bedroom. He quickly pulled on his armor, grabbed a bag filled with gunpowder and bullets, and raced down to the barracks' main level.

            Sleepy soldiers were groggily, but quickly, pulling their armor on, and groping for any sword and shield they could get their hands on. They were in poor condition to fight, battered and exhausted, but they knew the severity of this. Orcs were intruding on their homeland.

            Men stumbled out into the night, holding themselves up steadily. Aelenis yelled to the rifle squads to form firing orders along the barracks watchtowers. As soon as Aelenis stepped outside, the soldier he'd sent into the village came back, with maybe fifteen or so men.

            "I'm sorry sir, but these men were the only ones I could find! The rest are either sick, or fled!"

            "Dammit." Aelenis scowled. "Get them swords and shields fast. The Orcs are going to hit our frontlines soon!"

            The soldier saluted, and quickly motioned for the men to follow. They ran inside the barracks, and hurried down the hall to the armory. Quickly, they donned what armor they could find, and grabbed whatever weapons had been leftover. They returned outside, and took their positions.

            "Ready yourselves!" Aelenis yelled, holding his rifle up in a position to fire. He stood atop a small platform, giving him clear firing range, well above the heads of his men. As he loaded his gun, he saw that the Orcs were entering firing range, running at full force.

            "Fire at will!" Aelenis yelled.

            Gunshots rang out across the small village. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of gunpowder. As Aelenis looked up, he saw a small number of Orcs felled by gunshots. Some that had been hit had kept running. Others had slowed their pace, but still had a look of pure hatred and rage in their eyes. More gunshots rang out, sending more Orcs tumbling clumsily to the ground. Aelenis heard Orcish yelling, and the mob of the beasts only ran faster.

            "Foot soldiers! Forward!" Aelenis yelled. Almost immediately, the bulk of the foot soldiers ran toward the Orcish mob, their shields raised, and a cry of battle letting loose from their lungs.

            Orc and Human steel collided. A number of Orcs began pushing past the footmen, slicing anything that stood between them and the barracks. Orc foot soldiers, Shaman and Warlocks alike unleashed their fury upon the barracks defenders, cutting down a number of soldiers.

            "Fire! Leave not one of these beasts left alive!" Aelenis yelled. The firing squad sped up its pace. More Orcs fell, though it seemed like there was no limit to the numbers of them. Whenever one fell, it seemed as though three came to take his place. Aelenis aimed his rifle at the Shaman and Warlocks. These were the ones that posed true threats.

            Suddenly, Aelenis heard Orcish yelling. Some Orcs turned around, though only for a split second, to see what the commotion was. The smoke from the guns was blocking the air so much, Aelenis could barely see past the wave of oncoming Orcs.

            As if out of nowhere, arrows flew through the smoke, piercing it as though it was a knife going through butter. The arrows flew with great strength, and flew into the firing squads atop the watchtowers. Riflemen fell from the towers, their bodies hitting the ground, which was as cold and lifeless as they were. Orcish crossbowmen had unleashed wave after wave of arrows onto the unsuspecting defenders. Without the firepower from the riflemen, the Orcs would surely reach the barracks.

            "Stand down! Lend your swords to the battle!" Aelenis yelled. The riflemen atop the towers began to climb down, some shot full of arrows as they went. Aelenis pulled a short sword from a sheath on his belt, and ran into the fray of battle.

            The scent of freshly spilled blood filled the air. Orcs were coming out by the number from the swamplands, easily outnumbering the limited Human forces. Not only that, but the majority of the rangers and gunmen were nearly depleted, taking out a huge advantage on Aelenis' part. Despite the strength and will of his soldiers, it was a simple physical difference. The Orcs were much larger and more muscular. Their skin was harder and more durable than that of a Human. Gunmen and archers were the advantage that Laramoth had been given, able to fire upon the brutes from far away, slowing them down. However, Laramoth had refused to tamper with magic, unlike the Elves and Stromadon Humans, whose society practically revolved around it. This was the reason Laramoth had truly not expanded. However, many nobles and elders thought magic to be an evil source, claiming it was responsible for the wars and fighting, though their opinions were nothing more than bias and prejudice.

            Aelenis looked into the fog of battle, seeing the corpses of Orcs and Humans alike lying strewn across the field. As he squinted into the fog, he saw a tall figure wielding a large, two-handed axe. Obviously an Orc. The figure turned its head in Aelenis' direction, and their eyes were deadlocked. The fog seem to clear slightly; enough for Aelenis to see the figure in full view. He choked a bit, but held his ground.

            The figure was the famed Orc Warchief, Rand'Drek Theralas. Many of those who had survived battles with the Orcs had told Aelenis of the Warchief. His black armor that pierced through the heart like a knife, his stern, sadistic looks, and his ear-splitting battle-cries. A large bounty had been put on Theralas' head, though the assassins and bounty hunters who were foolish enough to accept the challenge rarely got further than Tor'Skan. If they did make it to the Warchief, they were often slaughtered at his hand and decapitated, their heads sent back in baskets; as a warning sign.

            Rand'Drek glared at Aelenis angrily, breathing heavily and grunting angrily. Aelenis raised his sword to ready himself for an attack. He knew that the sword, only a foot in length, would do nothing to the massive, heavy axe the Orc was holding, though it would bide him time.

            Aelenis ran toward Rand'Drek. This surprised Theralas, as he obviously hadn't expected the weaker, lesser armed man to charge him, though he readied himself in defense. He appeared to be ready for anything, though Aelenis had a few tricks up his sleeve.

            As Aelenis came within striking distance of Rand'Drek, he saw the Orc's eyes grow blood red. Aelenis swung his sword at Rand'Drek, a blow that almost connected. Rand'Drek raised his axe in defense, but was startled as Aelenis pulled away and slid to the ground. He swung both his feet and Rand'Drek's ankles, bringing the Orc to the ground. Aelenis quickly sent a kick to Rand'Drek's chin, injuring the brute slightly.

            However, as Aelenis stood back up, he was caught with Rand'Drek's retaliation. The Orc swung a single leg at Aelenis' ankles, catching him by surprise. Rand'Drek quickly followed by swinging the flat side of his axe into Aelenis' head. Aelenis felt pain sear through his body, as he was flung into the air for a short distance. Almost immediately, Rand'Drek kicked Aelenis in the chest. Aelenis could feel the blade-toed boot but through his light mail armor, and draw blood from the incision.

            Aelenis felt his body slam onto the ground, his spine letting out a short pop as he hit the cold grass. He groaned in pain. His spine was not broken, but injured enough so that it would be difficult to stand up. As he made a weak attempt to stand up, his face rising from the ground, he felt a fist slam into his back, forcing his arms to collapse and give way to the pain that surged through his body. He felt himself turn over, though it was not voluntary. His face turned to meet Rand'Drek's.

            As soon as he saw the Orc, another fist slammed into his face. Aelenis' skull rattled, his mouth bled, and he felt a tooth fly from his mouth. He tried to spit out the blood in his mouth, but was only greeted by another hit to the face, then another quick one to the abdomen. Aelenis felt his body giving way to death's embracing arms, though he clung to life.

            As Rand'Drek picked up Aelenis' sword, and raised it up, preparing to slit his throat, Aelenis looked up at the beast. Rand'Drek's eyes were filled with pure hatred. His strength and vitality were truly marvelous. Aelenis slowly began to close his eyes, waiting for death to come to him.

            Suddenly, Rand'Drek's face of anger changed to an expression of pain. Aelenis' senses returned to him almost immediately. A shield had been slammed into Rand'Drek's skull, sending the Warchief to the ground. A young-looking soldier in leather armor pulled Aelenis up.

            "Are you alright sir? I tried to get to you, but I was delayed by an Orc with a flail. I knocked him out the same way, but he'll be looking for me." The young man said; partly glad to see his captain, while partly terrified for the fact that an Orc was hunting for him.

            "I'm...I'm fine." Aelenis replied, spitting blood from his mouth. The metallic taste left a bitter feel. "We...need to leave this place. The villagers must be escorted out. Staying here longer would be suicide."

            "Don't worry sir. Let's get you to a safe place first." The young man replied, pulling Aelenis up.

            However, Aelenis spotted something that the young man could not see, as it was behind him. An Orc, with a look of bloodlust on his face, spotted the young man, and yelled out angrily. Aelenis then noticed that the Orc had a flail in its hand.

            Aelenis attempted to push the man away, to save him; though he was so weak it only appeared as though he was struggling away from the young soldier, who had an expression of utter confusion across his face.

            "Captain Forbain! Calm down! We'll get you out of here and-''

            That was all the man had time to say. The Orc, driven by hatred, swung the flail up, and slammed it into the young man's head. Aelenis watched as the man's once optimistic face turned to a gray, dead stare. A bloody pulp flew from the back of his head in a spray, his face slightly distorted from the weapon. The body went limp and fell to the ground, taking Aelenis with it.

            Aelenis felt his body hit the ground again, this time with the crazed Orc standing above him. The Orc smiled at Aelenis and laughed wickedly, raising the flail up. Aelenis began to sweat, his head burning.

            However, a sudden adrenaline rush surged through Aelenis. His body felt reenergized; stronger than it had been before fighting. In the surge, he grabbed the sword from the dead man, and pushed himself up, stabbing it into the Orc's heart. The brute grunted and went limp, his weapon falling to the ground. Aelenis yelled out in anger, and began repeatedly stabbing the blade into the corpse.

            Aelenis took in a deep breath, and let out a yell that carried over the sounds of the battle. "Retreat! Flee from this suicide! Let these monsters devour this town! It will mean little in the end! Retreat!!!"

            Aelenis' body fell to the ground. He was weakened. He could barely move. He knew his chances were slim. Men began to run from the Orcs, a number of brave souls staying to give their brothers a chance to escape.

            Aelenis felt his body go up, almost as if flying; he craned his neck with the last of his strength, and saw a soldier in fully plated armor dragging him away, while sprinting at the same time. The man ran with great endurance, partly from fear. Aelenis tried to thank the man, but his lungs would not let him. With that, he fell into a deep sleep.