Chronicles of Domaria - Book I – The Awakening

Syrma had barely been taken, and the orcs were preparing to advance. The tactic of war was innovative, and used to make rapid and chaotic raids, looting and retreats. In the mount city they left some warriors guarding the conquered place and were preparing to descend the slope, towards the Northwest. In fact, they were in an expansion plan to conquer territory.

The creatures know that by achieving success there, they would also be conquering the weak citadels in the way to Thelrim. This indeed would be a big problem for the Alliance.

In some corners of Syrma still there were piles of men to burn. The stench was starting to become strong and uncomfortable, even for the grotesque orcs, who were not famous for their cleanliness. Luckily, Navi, who was in the middle of a pile of dead bodies, opened his eyes.

A full day sleeping. The hit in the head still hurt a lot. Although groggy, he realized immediately the situation: an especially ugly and shambling orc with a gallon of kerosene soaked the last pile of dead to burn them.

The captain of the guard of Syrma realized also, in the central square, two figures plotting something: Gor’gul, the terrible red orc that had murdered his father, and the other which was at least curious to the onlooker: an ostentatious goblin. The little creature dressed like a King in a red and gold robe and drew attention using a finely made gauntlet of a shiny metal. The artifact also had some embedded gems and jewels. His features were cruel. They exchanged some words in an incomprehensible language to Navi. Sometimes, it seemed the goblin was giving him orders.

- Damn! I have to run! - thought Navi, holding the breath and trying to stay still.

The captain waited a moment of distraction of the arsonist and moved quickly from the pile of dead for behind a wall of one of the houses in the city. He realized that Syrma was no longer crowded with orcs. He snuck out through the alleys to a part of the wall that was ruined and jumped, rapidly descending the mount Syrma from the sidelines. By far, he saw the great wild troop forming ranks and carrying their weapons to the Northwest.

- Where is this scumbag going? – he thought. - I will follow them from a distance, at least until the path to Eris. From there, I can ask for help.

Most of the refugees had escaped to Thelrim. The capital of the dwarves was an interesting point for safeguarding, since they lived in an almost invincible fortress. However, the hosts were not very famous for their receptiveness. Rough and grumpy, the dwarves didn’t have patience with the other races of Domaria. Elves were snobs and pretentious people, Humans were profiteers and tricksters. Dwarves often didn’t get along with each other.

However, they were a fundamental part in the Alliance. The small ones (they don’t like to be called so) provided the greatest part of the metals of the kingdoms, including gold. They were skilled blacksmiths, dealers, usually quite rich and famous for the great warriors.

Their fearless fortress had never been invaded before. Obviously, the dwarves didn’t like magic. They found it a great nonsense, a thing for wimps. Even so, few understood its importance, especially in the wars. Few wise dwarves researched the occult arts of enchanted armor, magic rings and metal of the gods. That made the difference between life and death. Fireballs? Hail storm? Never ever. It was not their specialty.

The city functioned as a clock. Despite the unattractive appearance of the Iron Mountains, inside, there were tunnels, climbs, descents, staircases and elevators. The stones of the mountain were worked and carved with great detail, forming marble, onyx, alabaster and crystals halls. The great entrance gate and the walls carved around the Fort were splendid.

The only problem was the heat. The last great city to the West, before the Valley of the Dry Bones, the fortress was in a barren wilderness. The few trees were sparse in the middle of the rocky and orange earth, rich in ores. Within the city, the heat was even worse. The large bellows ran night and day without stopping, and the flapping of picks was a constant symphony. Everyone wondered if someone who wasn’t a dwarf would live there for a day.

But, the one thing they really hated were the orcs. Historically, they battled constantly against the dirty and repulsive creatures. Their geographical position also favored the attacks, whereas they were near the border of the wilderness, both to the South, on the West. This meant frequent problems. With that, the dwarves increasingly isolated themselves within the vast underground complex in the mountains. They were virtually self-sufficient. The riches were taken from inside the mountain, and the food was produced in the valleys of the North. Goats, cheese, herbs, wheat and barley. What else did they need?

Their great mystery was a statue that had been carved many centuries ago on the east face of the Invincible Fortress. All that is known is that it was an unfinished project from before the Great Pilgrimages. The big totem warrior was always vigilant, looking east, and heightened about fifteen meters high. Some dwarves believed that this was the reason they never been invaded: the presence of the statue protected them. Or at least it scared anyone with bad intentions to come that way.

*

Wandering in the woods, the adventurers were in trouble. The evening concealed the vision and slowed the steps, while they walked aimlessly, lost. The little Andariel ensured that she knew the way, but in their desperation to flee the city, she forgot that the way to Eldania were quite different from what she used to go. It was closed and confusing like a maze. Without a proper navigation, they walked in circles and stopped often to rest.

- Great! We’re lost! - Rune mumbled, nervously.

- Calm down. We’re going to make it! – replied Andariel, concerned for taking the group that way.

- Forget it! It’s useless. Even if we find the path, our heads are already being hunt for. Tonight is the deadline to meet the big guy – argued Ilyn.

- And who says he’s going to kill us? Certainly he knew of the dangers that we would go through in that place! – spoke Sofia, angrily.

With only a lamp and without much warning, the adventurers failed to realize that they were being stalked. To go through a clearing in the Woods, Ilyn spotted a small piece of gold that shone with the light of the lamp. It seemed to have fallen from someone who went through there.

- Lucky day! – said Ilyn, exalted. The thief showed the peculiar coin to the group.

- Let me see! – exclaimed Andariel, extending her hand, curiously. It was unusual that gold coins were found in the middle of a quiet forest.

- Don’t touch it, you little scoundrel! - Ilyn retorted.

Seeing the gold coin, Andariel failed to contain the excitement and said: — My brother! He was here! We are on the right track!

- And how do you know it, little brat? – said Ilyn, stopping his walk.

The others were curious. The girl seemed to know something and didn’t want to share.

Oh, well...

Before they started talking, a large net was thrown off on the adventurers. It was made of silk of cobwebs: tough and sticky. The more the heroes moved, the more they got tangled. Rune and Andariel struggled, while Sofia and Ilyn fell on the ground. Dozens of wolves walked from behind the huge trees. They snarled and salivated, like they were hungry. For days.

- We’re going to die! - shouted Sofia, closing her eyes.

- Use one of your tricks! – Rune protested, completely entangled in the net.

The old Ilidun walked towards them, behind the wolves, who barked and yearned the fresh and healthy meat of young adventurers.

- Calm down, my little ones... - he said, hissing to quiet the creatures.

The wolves sat back and calmed down. The Druid approached and motioned, whispering magic words. The last thing the adventurers saw was the wrinkled and demented face, lit by the flame of the lamp. The adventurers slept deeply.

*

The unknown darkness and humidity were uncomfortable. They itched. The only light came from the outside, beyond the rusty bars of a small cell. It looked like a cave in the forest. The ground, made of rocks and dirt, had some hay, but also ants and small insects that wouldn’t leave the heroes. Their wrists were bound, and their equipment had been taken.

Rune got up in that tight cubicle with Ilyn legs on top of his belly. Sofia was in the corner, sleeping, protecting the small Andariel.

- Hey, stupid! Wake up! – whispered the warrior, pushing thief’s legs to the side.

- Huh? Where are we? – asked Ilyn, scared, making some noise.

- Shhhhh! - hissed Rune. – We were captured! The last thing I remember was the wolves and an old and weird man.

The quartet had no idea how long they were in that cell. Sofia awoke slowly, rubbing her eyes still stunned, while the thief and warrior forced the rusty bars of the cell.

- Come on! - Rune muttered, bending over the body, along with Ilyn, trying to break the cell bar.

The bar came out making some noise. While the fighter couldn’t recover his sword, he decided to keep the old hunk of rusty iron to use as a weapon. In the rusty barbs of the broken bar, he shaved the rope of the wrist, in order to cut it. Ilyn did the same. However, they were still locked. The hole in the cage didn’t let them pass.

- Hey, kid! – called the burglar.

- Andariel! Come here! - The young warrior whispered. -See if you can pass through the bars and find the key!

Rune also sawed the ropes off the child’s wrist with the barbs of the metal bar, releasing her. The girl laid her face down, and carefully went through the breach, avoiding the rusty and dirty barbs. First the head, to see if anybody was watching from the outside, then the rest of the body. She could see the outside, illuminated by daylight, and another alcove in the corner with a lit torch.

Andariel snuck out with care up to the lounge. There was only a key hanging on a large rusty nail, stuck in a rock. The little one hopped a few times, trying to catch the torch that was stuck in the wall.

- I gotta get something to reach out and bring down this key – she thought.

A sound of footsteps came from the entrance of the cave. The little girl panicked. Not knowing what to do, she stood, hoping that she could hide inside the alcove.

The guard’s shadow emerged in front of the cell, but it was not seen by adventurers. The man, with a torch in his hand, caught Rune tearing the rope from the wrists of Sofia.

But what the h… – he spoken aloud.

Unable to complete the sentence, the guard was knocked out by a hard blow in the head.

Sofia smiled, while the little girl completed:

Three men down so far!

Still holding the stick, which was the torch from the other room, the girl threw the key to Rune, which hastened to open the gate of the old cell.

- Where are our things? - the sorcerer wondered, missing his staff.

Andariel looked to Rune and signaled negatively with the head. She not found anything.

- Damn! Let’s get out of here! - said the warrior, fearing some more trouble.

They were in a very old ruin in the middle of the woods. Ilyn was the first to pry through the entrance of the cave. A large amount of strong guards prowled the area.

The young people gathered at the entrance of the cave. Sofia had an idea:

- Wait here! - she said, pulling Ilyn and Rune into the passage.

Sofia closed her eyes and concentrated, mumbling unintelligible words and gesticulating. In an instant, her form began to be transparent, almost disappearing. With her movement, they could figure out a slight distortion of light, as a pool of still water agitated by the wind. Ilyn was haunted. Rune and Andariel smiled, cherishing the sorceress’ powers.

The girl walked unnoticed through the ruins. She passed by a guard and then another. There were other caves and trails over there, but a camp caught her attention. She walked up to it and hid behind one of the huts, made of wooden boards, bamboo and straw. Looking through the windows, she saw her stuff: the purple cloak, the staff, Rune’s bag in a corner and some other junk.

Sofia jumped carefully through the window, but she could not avoid making a little noise entering the shack. The guard immediately looked to her direction. Confused, he turned again to the outside. She slowly dressed her estimated cloak and put on Rune’s backpack. She also picked up all the equipment her hands could get.

The sorceress leaned over the window and jumped out of the hut. Accidentally, her cloak got hooked in one of curtain clips, causing her to lose her balance and fall. All that noise was impossible to ignore. The guard, alert, skirted the cabin and saw her, nervous, collecting the items on the floor. Her magic had expired.

Without formality, he hissed loudly and shouted:

- Thief! Catch her!

The young girl ran through the woods, trying to get back to the cave to warn the others. A bunch of men and wolves of the forest chased the girl with hatchets in hands. Sofia snuck out, in a staircase descended into a ruin, dodging the pursuers. The long and dark descent frightened the guards and the wolves, who moved away. Fear or caution? The only thing clear was that they would not take another step in that old passage. They got out of there quickly, considering the problem of the sorceress to be solved.

Rune, Ilyn and Andariel were concerned. A lot of time passed since Sofia had left. The little Archer was the first to speak:

- We have to go out to look for her.

- And how do you think we’re going to find an invisible person, you fool? - Ilyn mumbled.

- I heard barking and noise. Let’s go! – said the Warrior, yearning to find her.

The courage was overcoming the precarious conditions in which they were. They needed to rescue Sofia with what they had: an iron bar, a torch and the bow and a short sword of the guard who had been attacked. Surreptitiously, they walked toward the ruins, looking carefully in each hole.

Meanwhile, the girl walked down the ladder. A clarity that ranged in colors called their attention in a subterranean lounge. She approached with fear and saw Illidun, the Druid, walking amid the full tables of compounds, products and glassware. There were several candles, incense and some magical lights that appeared and disappeared by an old charm.

- Come here, girl. I’m not going to bite you. This is my laboratory… – said the old man, laughing.

The girl entered the grounds of the Alchemist, amazed at the colors and the scents of herbs and sulfur. It was pure magic. Quite different from the boredom of the cities, it impressed her. She approached the desk, looking at everything that there was there.

- Your eyes don’t lie. I was just like you. Take this book - said the old man, pointing with long and dirty fingernails to a red and gold cover booklet that was in a mess of tables.

Sofia seemed hypnotized. Her eyes flickered for a moment while she took the little book and embraced it. The Druid turned back and returned to work, stitching a body, whose bones resembled tree branches and by whose cavities and injuries some buds were growing.

- Now, go! Take those fools away with you! - shouted the old man, ending with a crazy laugh.

Sofia walked back to the entrance staring at Illidun. She finally turned and went up some stairs, getting rid of it. Looking back again she realized that there was no passage. Just a big rock wall closing the road. Sofia didn’t believed for a brief moment, but she looked at the book, which could be the size of her hand and saw that it was real. She hid it inside her cloak and finished up the stairs. Her companions sought her on the outside.

- Guys! Over here! - called Sofia, trying to contain the voice.

- I was concerned! You almost killed us! – said Rune, checking if she’d recovered some equipment.

- Well… There was a little hiccup and I could only get my cover and your backpack – she said, still terrified.

- Are you okay? – asked Andariel, realizing the sorceress was stunned.

- Yes! Yes! Let’s get out of here! - Sofia said, smiling and putting her hands on the back of the child.

While the heroes walked, still adrift, the ruins showed no sign of life. A fine mist, cold and white as silk, hindered the long-range sights of the group.

- Be careful! - warned Rune.

- I don’t smell them here… — mocked Ilyn.

- Maybe they fear coming here - whispered Sofia, watching closely the very old stones.

The warrior and the thief sought in vain a clue to lead them to the exit. During the search, they came to a large patio, surrounded by some broken and ancient columns.

-Wow! This is very old! – exclaimed Andariel.

A slight tremor reverberated in the area, surprising the adventurers. Then another, and another. They looked like steps of some large creature. A rhinoceros? Not in those woods.

Through the veil of mist, emerged a monster. Big nose, giant, greenish and muscular, carrying on his shoulder a club, which actually looked more like a small tree torn out by its roots.

- Run! - shouted Ilyn.

The group spread seeing the creature coming. However, the small Andariel wasn’t so lucky: she stepped on her shoelace and tripped. Like an inoffensive baby on the floor, she just watched the great creature approaching and looking at her inquisitively.

Yuuummmm! Human smell – said the giant troll.

The creature suspended her with his long fingers, hanging by her little outfit.

– Oruk wants gold! Pay, then pass!

The hideous creature had the worst rotten fish breath she could imagine. The little girl couldn’t avoid the disgust while she turned the face, suspended. Andariel remembered their pouch. She had some gold coins, left by the brother in Durunthir. Exactly the gold of Miklos, that was unwelcome.

- Two birds with one swoop: goodbye to gold and to this stinking creature – she thought.

The girl grabbed the belt looking for the bag, but she didn’t find it.

Damn! - she thought, with concern.

- I have nothing to give you, Mr. Oruk! - said the girl, preparing for the reaction of the monster.

Sofia freaked out behind one of the pilasters and thought:

- This monstrosity will eat her alive!

The witch didn’t think twice. Bravely, she ran out of the back of the column screaming and doing tricks to scare the creature. The troll, scared, gave a couple of steps back, confused.

Leave her alone! - screamed the young girl.

Seeing the initiative of Sophie, the boys decided to take part in the situation. Ilyn came out of a hole with the short sword that he had stolen from the guard. Rune jumped back from the other column, brandishing the broken iron bar of their cage.

Attack! - screamed the little Andariel.

The brave girl pulled the bow string and shot an arrow into the belly of the troll. Without even hurting, the projectile was there spiked, as in a great pudding.

-We’re screwed! – she thought.

The great Oruk got furious. He swung the club without firmness. Andariel saw the big log coming her way and closed her eyes. She thought it was her end, crushed right there by that ugly monster.

- Fiera! - shouted Sofia, conjuring a burning firebolt in the direction of the creature.

For a split second, the impact made him miss the hit. The sorceress had saved the life of the little archer.

The troll seemed not to like fire. He got scared with the flash of the impact, and got charred on his thick skin. He turned his attention to Sofia that, for him, was the great menace. The creature ran in great strides towards the youngster, raising his big club. Ilyn and Rune tried to strike the monster’s legs, taking care not to be trampled, but, the skin of the monster was too hard for those weapons.

A vigorous blow flew in the direction of Sofia, which dodged it, throwing it to the side. Panting and afraid, she was sitting on the floor watching the big monster approach.

- Radicis! - she cried out, extending her hands toward the troll.

A jumble of roots, vineyards and vines sprouted from the ground and involved the massive legs of Oruk immediately. The monster, immobilized, struggled to suspend his legs and reach the girl. He was trapped.

- Hey! Look here! – shouted Rune to the giant.

Rune threw the rusted bar in his head. The beast roared and snorted, raging even more.

- Run! - he shouted.

The fighter saw that he was in trouble and fled to the nearest column, trying to escape the reach of the monster. Stuck in the roots and tangles invoked by Sofia, the troll, attempted to take a giant step, but he stumbled and fell. The noise was loud. The birds flown away from the treetops and the fog that surrounded the area spread in a big circle.

The fall shook the entire forest and the old pillars of ruin. One of them, already destabilized with age and time, snapped and started to heel in the direction of the monster, making a scary noise. The adventurers looked stunned, as if watching a horror show.

The column fell on the troll, who barely had time to see what happened. The head of the heavy column knocked out the giant, still lying. He slept with the mouth open and tongue out.

The heroes stopped for a moment, surprised. - It was pure luck – they thought. They were together again and staring at the ugly troll of smelly breath. He drooled and breathed heavily, almost growling.

- Let’s get out of here! - Ilyn said, flustered.

In a hurry, the adventurers followed their path. From there, no man or creature chased or distressed them. With a sudden tranquility, Sofia knew that something seemed to be strangely guiding them, ensuring their safety out of the Woods.

*

Divided into three groups, hundreds of Syrmanians left for Fort Eris, Eldania and Thelrim, the city of the Dwarves. Each group took some warriors, militia and one or two clerics of the city for protection. Most of the Warriors went to Eris, waiting for an orkish offensive. Children, women and elderly people, in their majority, were on their way to Eldania, and a part of them to Thelrim.

The great march of orcs was near to Fort Eris with the Sun at its highest. It was not very usual to attack in that mid-day light. The Scouts and watchmen of the towers of Eris, watching the horizon, got surprised with the boldness of the wildlings. The horses and riders were prepared, and began to position themselves in front of the Fort, awaiting a bloody battle. The orcs were carrying again their siege weapons and other junk that moved in the savannas, leaving big trails on the grass and in the hay of vastness.

- What are these bastards doing? – Whispered Brandil, the Captain of Cavalry of Eris.

Brandil was a man of honor, always accompanied by his faithful brown horse. Great warrior, few challenged his skills with the spear and bow. The heat of the savanna produced a few drops of sweat that arose from his bushy eyebrows, running until his thick beard.

A few miles away, the orcs maneuvered their platoons and turned to the west, towards the Iron Mountains. The decision was strange and mysterious. The creatures were not seeking Eris, to the North, but the long road to the Invincible Fortress. To the eyes of Eris Knights, the army was still just a big black and red stain on the plains of the south.

- Stupid creatures. They are going straight to their downfall… – the captain said, perplexed, accompanying their movement in his scope.

- Sir, aren’t we going to do anything? - a mounted warrior asked.

- Don’t be silly. As long as there is no help from Eldania, we cannot risk lives - said Brandil, watching carefully the creatures. - Besides, now they are the dwarves’ business.

- They will be there in a day. I’m eager to see it – thought the captain, imagining that dwarves would mobilize all their forces for the attack.

It wasn’t absurd to imagine that, since so many orcs had never marched together. Besides, the captain was completely that the refugees would be received by the grumpy dwarfs.

- Come on, men! Inside we go! We will wait for reinforcements from Eldania! - he shouted. – I want a watch tonight. Send scouts and spies at a distance of a few miles. - finished Brandil, leading his horse and his troops back to the Fort.

*

The first men and women of Syrma arrived at the gates of Thelrim late in the afternoon. Tired, they settled while the caravan stopped there. Their hope was that they could negotiate the passage inside the walls of the dwarves as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the diplomacy of Thelrim wasn’t a reference. For many years, the exiled were suspicious. They saw the exodus camping in front of the mountain from the high halls.

- Don’t let anyone in. We haven’t received even a message from a crow or pigeon. How do we know if they are not looters and raiders in disguise? - said Faerdûn, the King of the dwarves, gorging up in food and drink.

Faerdûn had a beard and braided hair, gray and deep black eyes. He was dressed with great luxury: gold, jewelry and a great ancient plate armor. The dwarf was a major warrior of Thelrim, but his days of battle came abruptly to an end, injured in the thigh, in the middle of a hunt, by a poisoned arrow shot by a stranger. Since then, he never retrieved completely his leg movements.

Lame, the Dwarf King kept great bitterness and anger, vowing revenge of the creature that caused his great suffering. His people were very loyal, but he never ceased to think that some blood brother caused the wound on him in envy.

- Sir, can we send at least one messenger to communicate with strangers? - questioned one of the counselors.

- Of course not! This is our home. If they want to come in, ask. Then, we will see - answered the King, taking a big mug of beer and relegating the fact.

- Never trust humans. They are big liars and traitors - said Druin, the greatest warriors of the dwarves, who sat beside the King.

- Damn! These creatures never bring good omens with them. Like my old grandfather said: if there is a human, there is a problem - mumbled Farin, Druin’s twin brother, and mountain’s cleric.

The entry would not be easy. In the high night, Aldib, leader of the third Syrma’s caravan decided to go to the gates to ask for help to the residents of the mountains. Aldib was a cousin of Navi and, as well as Saif, a descendant of the people of the West. His features were tapered face, black and curly hair, a short beard and a Moorish skin, inheritance of the strong desert sun. It really wouldn’t be easy, considering the dwarves, suspicious of everything.

The gates and the wall surrounding Thelrim were around ten meters high. They were thick and sturdy, like no other place in the Alliance Lands. The door, made of metal alloys from the heart of the mountain, had been forged millennia ago. The clay itself of those mountains was different, so they called it Iron Mountains. Rich in minerals, the clay, baked in the dwarf’s furnace formed a very resistant grout that covered the giant blocks of stone.

Later, after all the caravan had met and settled, Aldib blew a horn near the gate. It was a quiet night, full of stars. He did it three times, but nothing seemed to move or emit a noise even in the darkness of the mountain.

The dwarves ignored the call. The leader of the caravan persisted a few more times. The moon ended its path in the sky, near the dawn, when, sick of the annoyance, Druin climbed the wall and screamed:

- Silence! Will you make that goddamn noise all night?

Aldib saw there was a hope. The warrior shouted back:

We need a home! Syrma fell to the orcs!

- Oh, crap! Bait of orcs… – thought the dwarf. -My brother was right. These humans are bringing trouble to us.

- Get out! Go back to the way you came! Go to Eris or Eldania. We don’t want trouble here! — Druin retorted, loudly.

- What’s your name? Let me talk to your King! We can bargain! - shouted Aldib, trying to convince the stubborn dwarf.

Druin laughed out loud and walked down the wall, thinking:

- He wants to talk to the King. Who does he think he is?

Out of Aldib’s sight, the dwarf cried:

- Bring a letter with the Royal seal. Without it, you will sleep outside!

Aldib got angry and went to his cabin, muttering:

- Dwarfs. All of them are assholes... It might be easier to cross the Valley of the Dry Bones than getting something from them.

The Warrior sat in his tent and wrote a message to the King in a small piece of paper. At the end, he tied it to the leg of one of the last pigeons and set him free on the night of the arid savanna.

- One day. Maybe less... Let’s wait. – thought the commander, concerned with the circumstances.

The night would be long. Far from home, in unknown lands, it would not be easy for the survivors. Aldib was very tired and it was early in the morning. He looked up and saw the stars shining as brightly as never. He felt a strange peace, imagining that his uncle would be there, watching over all of them.

He found a few boxes and barrels outside the tent and fell asleep. Even resting without comfort, he felt better, protecting his people.

*

The beating of the drums was the harbinger of horror. As the thunder on the horizon, announcing the storm, the symphony of war aroused Aldib. Still tottering, he sought his sword on waist and drew it. Unrest took place, but it was not morning yet. The dawn started, but it was not a hope of a brand new day. All that was heard was agitation, panic, crying of the children and the barking of dogs.

-Wake up! We’re being attacked! – cried the leader of the caravan.

He ran through the camp, towards the East, calling the warriors and trying to envision the horizon in the darkness. The noise sounded like death and war. There were the orcs.

Aldib shouted loudly for all his countrymen:

Orcs to the East! Raise camp and stay with me!

The terror’s legion was marching miles away, but the noise of the drums, shields and the boots of metal was next and disturbing.

- Death is knocking on our door - thought the remaining refugees, who rushed in to pray and beg for mercy.

Many, in panic, left everything they had and parted, without hope. Some ran with the infants to the mountains, and others fled with the few remaining horses to the west, in the way of the dangerous Valley of the Dry Bones.

- Stay calm, so, you’re going to die! - shouted Aldib, in vain, trying to prevent the disorderly escape.

The leader of the caravan went close to the wall again and blew his horn with all force, trying to wake the dwarves:

- Orcs! Wake up, you morons! Let us in! - he shouted, desperately.

The horizon was burning in flames. Enemy troops spread all through the east, as far as the eye could reach. Like a rising tide, between the Roaring Range and the Iron Mountains, they were approaching and devouring the fields in a swarm of bloodthirsty warriors. The noise was getting louder and overpowering.

Druin opened a side porthole and came down from the mountain as fast as he could. He looked up the walls, with his small pocket binoculars and found: the human was telling the truth. He still thought of helping the refugees, but the gate took a lot of time to be handled because of its immense weight. He couldn’t do any more without risking the lives of his brothers of Thelrim. Certainly the orcs would enter the fortress through the gap.

- Run to the hills! – cried the dwarf, making a deafening noise blowing a big horn.

Hearing the signals, the orcs marched faster and advanced with the warg-mounted archers. The ground was shaking with the movement of the horde. The first flaming arrows flew in the dawning night sky reaching the tents and supplies at camp. Immediately, the targets ignited in a big fire. Many remained standing, in panic, waiting for the guidance of Aldib.

- Civilians, to the mountains! - he shouted. - Men and warriors, with me! We have to fight for our children – he shouted to the few dozen remaining warriors.

The orcs came as a breath of wind, razing the camp. They destroyed and burned everything they could. The soldiers, weary and surprised, were not a match for the violent creatures, which reaped their lives with brutality. Even some refugees were slaughtered and eaten by the hungry wargs.

Aldib fought bravely. Despite the arrows that he had under his flesh, he resisted with an enormous willpower. Weakened, he was hit by several shots until he fell to his knees, overcome by fatigue.

- You… weak. I, strong! - said a loud and monstrous voice coming in his direction.

- Gor’gul - whispered the Warrior.

Without any mercy, the great orc struck the fatal blow on him, ending his suffering.

Druin had already entered the great Thelrim by one of the mountain tunnels to cry out for help. It was too late. Before the dawn was over, the camp was completely taken and destroyed by the savages. The orkish carts stopped far away, strategically in front of the walls of the dwarves. There were a hundred of cruel orc warriors, and other ones dressed with red cloaks, rods and adornments.

- There are so many that we can’t even count – said Druin, while watching the horde through the tunnels and balconies at the top of the mountain. - Faerdûn won’t like this. Things will get hot around here.

The quantity and the violence of the creatures were impressive, even to the dwarves. Thelrim was in trouble.