The Human From a Dungeon

High Chief Ulurmak

Adventurer Level: N/A

Orc - Kirkenian

My gaze washed over the former battlefield with satisfaction. Drow corpses and weapons were scattered everywhere, with nary an injured dwarf, elf, or orc in sight. We'd definitely taken some casualties, but we cleaned up after ourselves nicely. Our enemy, on the other hand, didn't get the chance to.

A job well done, if I say so myself. I even got to fight a bit. Of course, fighting on hnarse-back isn't exactly my favorite kind of brawl, but beggars can't be choosers.

King Lofin's finest had retreated into the city and were already on the walls taking poorly aimed potshots at us. The walls were imposingly large, but had definitely seen better days. Probably built by the vampires when they held the city, and not at all maintained by the Inbred Bastard King or his forefathers.

The steady sound of hnarse hooves galloping behind me brought me out of my contemplations. My hnarse, a warrior bred for size and strength, huffed at the inconvenience of my weight shifting as I turned to get a look. I patted the poor beast on the head while Blagroth's hnarse approached us.

"Just got word that Emperor Jak has made it back home safely, sir," Blagroth reported.

Once Jak, Makiv, and I had finished our strategy meeting, the dwarven emperor had decided to leave the rest of the fight in the hands of his top general. Then he went home, leaving the vast majority of the army he'd brought along with him in my care. Things had moved pretty quickly after that.

Messengers had been sent out to all the Great Chiefs declaring war on the Night Kingdom, and not a single protest was sent in reply. As a matter of fact, many of the Great Chiefs sent their best mer to join me. That combined with the surprising competency of Jak's general made things a whole lot easier than they otherwise would have been.

General Jakiv, who also happened to be Jak's youngest cousin, didn't get to where he is from nepotism. Or, maybe he did, but he's still a damn fine strategist as well as a natural leader. Were it not for Jak the Second, Jakiv would likely be a strong candidate for the throne. Plus, he and General Makiv were getting along famously.

All of this had made the campaign into the Night Kingdom... Well, for lack of a better word, fun. Leading a war-band against an incompetent foe with competent allies, what could be more elating for an orc such as I? Unfortunately, it had only taken us a week to push the drow forces back to their capital. Not gonna be long until I'm back in the office.

"Good to hear, how are the preparations going?" I asked.

"The boulder tossers are nearly finished, and we've got some decent boulders to chuck, sir. Jakiv and Makiv are ready for the assault when we are," Blagroth cracked his neck. "By the way, sir, are they related?"

"Jakiv and Makiv? Not that I know of. Why?"

"No real reason. Their names sound similar is all."

I stared at the brawny, young infantryman for a moment, trying to judge whether he was serious or not. No sly winks or hidden smiles gave it away.

"One's an elf and the other is a dwarf," I said, trying not to sound condescending.

"Yeah, but elves and dwarves can have babies. And them babies usually look like one or the other, so you can't really tell. I've seen a dwarf and elf be brothers from the same parents, sir."

"Okay, but one is cousin to the emperor of Calkuti, and the other is a high-ranking general in the Army of Bolisir," I argued. "That's a lot of distance apart. And they're leading different armies."

"But Bolisir and Calkuti are on friendly terms, so it wouldn't be unheard of for a powerful family to have positions of power in both nations, sir."

Not only was he serious, but he now had me doubting Jakiv's and Makiv's familial origins. What I had initially believed to be an ignorant assumption turned out to be a well thought-out question that I don't have a good answer for. I can see why High Chief Olmag lent him to me. I'll have to give the city of Havros a tax cut as way of thanks.

"Well, all I know is that they aren't related," I said with a shrug. "At least, not closely. Changing the subject, I need you to spread the word. Once the boulder tossers are ready and loaded, they're going to fire three volleys, which should open up the walls. Nobody is to charge until the third volley is in the air."

"Right, or else we'll be squashin' our own," Blagroth nodded sagely. "What do we do if three volleys isn't enough to bring down a good enough portion of the wall?"

"It should. These walls aren't exactly the best on the continent," I chuckled. "But... Yeah, if the walls somehow stand up to the volleys, or if we miss, just call a retreat. So, charge once the third volley is in the air, if the wall doesn't fall, retreat. Easy, right?"

"Sounds like a plan, sir."

Blagroth turned his hnarse and rode off. My own was absentmindedly picking at the grass. He huffed another complaint as I picked up the reins and steered him toward my encampment. Despite his hesitancy and my weight, we made good time getting back.

I sighed internally as my tent came into view. One of the biggest and gaudiest damn pieces of fabric I've ever seen rose above all of the others surrounding it, telling everyone who had eyes exactly where the High Chief sleeps at night. Even the tents of the Great Chiefs who managed to catch up to us were tiny in comparison.

If the drow were a more capable foe, it would be fuckin' stupid to show them exactly where to strike. Thankfully, they don't stand a chance of getting this far behind our lines. The dour mood brought on by the sight of my tent disappeared when I saw who was hanging out with the guards surrounding it.

"Olmag! Glad you decided to join us," I shouted and waved.

Gracefully, I slid off my hnarse, the ground shuddering slightly as I landed. It could be my imagination, but I swear the hnarse sighed in relief before it trotted off to join the others at the stable. I strode up to Olmag and grasped his outstretched forearm.

"Wouldn't miss it for my wedding, High Chief," he laughed. "How's Blagroth? Has he been makin' himself useful?"

"He has, he has. All compliments, no complaints! He's been acting as my second-in-command and doing a damn good job of it. Didn't catch his rank, though."

"Oh, that's because we don't really do ranks in Havros. You're either a chief or you aren't. Good to hear that he's been taking initiative, though. What happened to your original second-in-command?"

"Well, I left Rayzun handling administrative stuff in Kirkena, and Homlein became ill on the second day of the campaign. Blagroth was already helping Homlein by then, so he just stepped into the role like it was nothing."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Olmag chuckled. "So, I take it the rats are hiding in their den?"

"Ha, comparing these cowards to the mighty beasts that roam the wastes is an insult to the rats. But yes, the drow are cowering behind their walls. Not to worry, though. I brought siege equipment," I said with a grin. "Boulder tossers, which are currently being assembled, and hook-ladders."

"Yes, I know that, too. I was wondering-"

"If you could be the first over and/or through the wall?"

"Oh... Uh, yeah?"

"Nope."

"What?"

"Every Great Chief here wants to be the first. Even I want to be first. We all had a shouting match earlier, and it became apparent that nobody will be satisfied with a compromise. So..." I trailed off and shrugged a little.

"So nobody gets to go first?"

"Exactly. We'll all be leading from the back."

"But the boys-"

"The troops are aware of the situation. If they're upset that they get to protect their chiefs, they aren't showing it. Also, if it will be of any comfort, I'm willing to explain the situation to your soldiers."

"Nah, if you explain it to them I don't get to bitch to them about it," Olmag laughed. "So how come we don't all go first, together?"

"Cuz some of the Great Chiefs shouldn't be on the front lines at all," I replied with a malicious grin. "Cuz they haven't chosen their successors yet."

"Oh," Olmag deflated a little.

"If a Great Chief were to fall here without a successor, there would definitely be a civil war. Could be a war between their hopeful successors, or the other Great Chiefs may bring up age-old claims and start trouble. Or both, actually."

"I know, High Chief."

"Either way, it will be a blow to the Unified Chiefdoms. A blow which I am responsible for preventing."

"Yes, High Chief. I just..." he trailed off, then looked inspired. "Wait! What about Blagroth?"

"Huh?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Blagroth can be my successor! You said he's been doin' real good, right?"

"You... YOU CAN'T CHOOSE YOUR SUCCESSOR ON THE BATTLEFIELD!" I shouted. "ESPECIALLY FROM THE THOSE WHO MAY ALSO FALL IN BATTLE!"

"Aw, c'mon High Chief, he's perfect!" Olmag grinned.

"NO. You will do this the right way or not at all, gods damn it. There's traditions to uphold. Feasts and such. A good successor deserves at least that much," I crossed my arms angrily. "Plus, you're not the only Great Chief to have been lazy with choosing your successor."

"Fuck."

"Yep. So we'll all hang out in the back. Safe and sound."

"Alright," he sighed. "I'll go and tell the boys. Oh, wait, when are we chargin'?"

"Not long now. I'll wait until you're ready to give the order for the boulder-tossers to fire, though. Once the third volley is in the air, we charge. If the rocks don't make room for us in the walls, we're going to retreat and throw more."

"But you brought ladders, right?"

"Yeah, but we don't want to use them if we don't have to. Numerically, we've got a fairly even fight, but if we get caught up in choke-points that can change damn quick."

"With how they fight, it isn't as if we would take that many losses."

"I don't like spending lives that we don't have to spend, Olmag," I said with a solemn shake of my head.

"Yeah, that's why you're the High Chief, I guess," Olmag said, then grinned again. "Plus the fact that you're fucking enormous."

"You old fucker," I said with a laugh. "Don't you got some soldiers to talk to?"

He laughed and walked away with a wave. I smiled and shook my head. I nodded at the guards stationed around my tent, but they ignored me, continuing their vigil as I entered. Once inside, I unbuckled my sheath and set the hefty blade down upon the planning table, which hadn't seen a lot of use.

There were conflicts in the past where it had seemed like I'd been at this table for the entire duration, but this time we'd made a plan and it had worked. The drow had been even less prepared for a counter-invasion than I had hoped. They'd fallen for every trap and tactic that we'd thrown at them, and now they were going to lose the capital.

The only real hiccup we had run into so far was the thrice-damned vampires. The first few villages we took were absolutely lousy with the bastards. So much so that Makiv had wondered aloud if King Lofin had even tried to exterminate the fuckers.

There had also been some skirmishes with vampire brood. Deadly beasts, but no match for well trained soldiers supported by mages. Even less deadly to mages on hnarse-back. I chuckled as I imagined the enemy's first reaction to our magical cavalry.

"High Chief," a voice called from outside my tent. "Scout Lyen has a report for you."

Lyen, an orc from a small village who had a knack for learning new surroundings and spotting minor details. They'd done so well as a scout during the invasion of Blurpus that Great Chief Tormon had insisted that I take her under my wing. Though I was glad she made it back in one piece, a small sense of dread rose up within me as I remembered her assignment.

"Enter," I said, taking a seat.

The tent flap opened and an orc just over half my size and covered head to toe in cloak and hood entered. Lyen removed her hood and her long, light brown hair fell across the back of her cloak. She knelt and that very same hair covered her face.

"Oh, highest of chiefs," she said sarcastically. "I have come to deliver unto you-"

"Oh, come on," I interrupted. "Enough with the theatrics. Get up and report."

"Yes, sir," she chuckled as she rose.

"I take it you've got good news if you're being so playful."

"Oh no, not at all," she said as her demeanor shifted. "I thought my little performance would ease the blow, as it were."

The small sense of dread grew larger.

"Report," I said coldly.

"I found the vampires," she replied, all sense of levity gone. "They are amassing in the east."

"Amassing? How many?"

"At least ten thousand brood. Likely more, but I couldn't get close enough to count all of them. There's also a few dozen vampires among them."

"How could you tell?"

"The brood don't eat vampires," she shuddered. "That's the only meat they won't eat, it seems. I..."

She trailed off, staring at the floor. I'd seen plenty of monsters feed off of people before, and I knew how many nightmares it takes to forget such a sight.

"I understand, Lyen," I said softly. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Wish I could say that I've seen worse, High Chief," she replied. "But only if that meant what I saw wasn't as bad as it was. They're ravishing the countryside, and... And preparing to march."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Any hints as to where they came from?" I asked.

"No, sir. It's like they just popped up from the ground or something."

My thoughts turned to the reports from the invasion of Blurpus. The commander had been a half-breed drow vampire, and had the captured orcs dig out a chamber of horrors beneath the village they took. I wonder how many villages here in the Night Kingdom had a similar pit beneath them.

"I need Makiv and Jakiv," I said.

"Yes, sir, I thought so too. Sent a runner the moment I hit camp. They should be here so-"

"Sir, the generals are here for you," one of the guards said from outside.

"Send them in," I commanded and stood, strapping my sword back on.

Both Makiv and Jakiv hurried into the tent.

"A vampire army," Makiv said. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"It isn't outside of my expectations," I replied. "Figured there'd be a host of them somewhere. However, the size of it is concerning."

"Six thousand against ten thousand," Jakiv added. "It'll be a close thing."

"Lyen, set the marker," I said.

Lyen moved to the table and picked up a piece of stone that was painted red. She stared at the map for a moment, then placed the stone upon it.

"Very good. If there's nothing else, you're dismissed."

She nodded and left the tent as the generals approached the table. I stared at the new red marker demonstrating a large enemy host to our east. Something about it...

"It's fairly far, thankfully," Makiv said. "Gives us time to prepare."

"Not much," Jakiv replied. "We can't turn our back on these walls, else we invite the drow's daggers."

"Indeed," I agreed. "Splitting our forces in two would weaken us too much, as well. So we stick to our current plan. Take the city, then fortify it the vampires."

"Would Lofin surrender if we told him about this?"

"No, he would never do something so smart," Makiv chuckled. "Either he wouldn't believe us and we'd have to fight anyway, or he'd betray us the first chance he got."

"We would also lose precious time waiting for a reply," I added, then noticed Jakiv shifting uncomfortably. "What's wrong?"

"I rode here in due haste," he replied. "Didn't allow time for my hnarse to be saddled. I am... Pained."

Makiv and I nodded knowingly. Riding a hnarse without a saddle is a pain that is known to most who have learned to ride. Many riding instructors consider it a right of passage to have their pupils experience this unique type of injury. The pain is immediate, but then fades a few moments after you dismount the hnarse. Then, it comes back with a vengeance, seemingly clawing at your insides and causing nausea as it goes.

"I do hope someone's bringing your saddle," Makiv said with a chuckle.

"Yes, but nevermind me. What do we do once we take the city?"

"We'll worry about the walls first and foremost. Once we're in the walls, we'll get to work plugging the holes," I explained. "It'll take the vampires a day or so to get here from all the way over there, so we can use the mages to help take the city. Once everything's settled down, we'll put the mages who know fire magic on whichever sections of wall survive our assault."

"Should also have archers with flaming arrows," Jakiv added. "The city should have enough pitch."

"I'm concerned about a potential vampiric presence within the city," Makiv said. "Getting attacked from both sides of the wall would be devastating. We'll need to have patrols, assuming that we are confining the civilians until everything settles down."

That's not a bad idea, but each patrol will have to have some way of permanently ending a vampire. Torches could do, but they're easily extinguished. Mages would be the best option, but each mage we send on a patrol is a mage who can't be on the wall. Damn... Wait...

"Infantry patrols with torches and whistles," I said. "They will be supported by a rapid response force of mounted mages. That should prevent an attack on two fronts."

"Good plan," Makiv nodded. "We'll see it done, High Chief. Gods, though, I don't like how close that army is to Bolisir."

I glanced at the marker on the map and my eyebrows rose. Makiv was right, it was only about two days march from the border of Bolisir.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll march on Bolisir instead," I chuckled. "King Yssinirath is far better equipped to deal with them than we are."

"That's true," Makiv said with a laugh. "I suppose I worry for nothing."

"Yeah," I said, something about the map still nagging at me. "Alright, same plan as before. Once the third volley is in the air, we charge. If there isn't a big enough hole for us, we pull back and launch another one."

Makiv and Jakiv agreed and left, but I barely noticed them go. I hadn't seen it before, but the position of the vampiric host reminded me of a conversation I had with that human. The vampires were more than a day's march away from us, and at least two days away from Bolisir...

But they were also only half a day away from the Deepwyld Forest.