Battleborne

by Dave Willmarth

  While he and the dwarves stashed the loot, Smitty saddled the mounts, speaking softly to them and doing his best to keep them calm. They knew that the saddles meant they’d be getting loose soon, and were itching to go.

  Soon Max and the dwarves were each standing next to one of the equisaurians, listening as Smitty instructed them on the best way to feed the beasts. He hadn’t been kidding when he said they were dangerous. Max’s assigned mount had already tried twice to bite him.

  Smitty handed each of them a stick, upon which they skewered their spidorc meat chunks. At his direction, they patted the beasts’ necks and spoke softly to them, speaking their names and telling them what good critters they were. When the beasts seemed to calm some, he instructed them to slowly reach the meat toward their mouths. Even with the warning, Max jumped slightly when his mount, whose name was Pokey, snapped its head around and snatched the meat off the stick. It crunched down with its sharp teeth three times before the meat disappeared down its gullet.

  They spent a little more time talking to the animals before Smitty helped each of them up into the saddle, holding the reins of their mount to keep it calm while they hopped up. The dwarves looked ridiculous atop the massive beasts, but neither of the Battleborne said anything.

  Battleaxe’s mount bucked a bit, a half-hearted attempt to throw him off. But the dwarf squeezed with strong legs and pulled tight on the reins, keeping his seat and letting the beast know who was boss. Dalia, on the other hand, had used some sort of druid ability to calm her beast, and it was as docile as could be. Max asked her if she’d teach that to him later.

  Now mounted up, they followed Smitty, the dwarves unused to controlling the mounts. They mostly just held on to begin with, letting the creatures follow the lead mount, with Max bringing up the rear on Pokey, in case one of the dwarves’ mounts should start to stray. Smitty thought they would be fine unless one of them spotted a bunny or some other form of food.

  They kept a brisk pace, the mounts anxious to run, and as a result they reached the mine in less than fifteen minutes. There was a handy inset in the rocks behind the mine shack that was fenced off, so Smitty took charge of the mounts and led them in there while Max and the dwarves kicked in the door.

  There was only one miner inside, and he’d been asleep with his feet up on the desk. Max Identified him as he stalked toward the orc, sword in his fully healed hand.

  Ok’tog

  Mine Foreman

  Level 20

  Health: 2,000/2,000

  The orc was huge, and overweight, with a layer of fat over bulging muscle. He was slow to get up, roaring at Max as he reached for a mining pick that leaned against the wall behind the desk. He wore no armor, just a filthy leather shirt and pants, grease stains covering the front of both.

  “Dwarves? Die!” the orc growled, swinging the heavy pick like it was as light as a feather. Max avoided the swing, then leaned back and kicked the heavy wooden desk into the orc. The impact made him stagger, and Max lurched forward to stab at him with his sword as the dwarves each ran around one side of the desk with shields up and weapons in hand.

  Now pinned between the desk and the wall, the orc had limited movement options. He smashed the pick into Dalia’s shield, pushing her backward slightly, but took a chop to the back from Battleaxe, and a wicked slash across his chest from Max. When he turned to swing at Max, the blow missed and slammed into the desk top, momentarily getting stuck. This cost the orc a deep cut on his arm from Battleaxe, and a stab between the ribs from Dalia.

  Smitty came through the door just in time to see Max drive his sword into the orc foreman’s throat, finishing him off. He grinned, and said “Sweet! I leveled up!

  They looted the foreman, and Max took his ear before Smitty began dragging the body outside, insisting that the others come with him. Max helped him lift the body so they could move faster, and the dwarves followed them to the pen where the mounts were pacing.

  “They’ll love us forever for this…” Smitty grinned at Max as he began to swing the body toward the fence. Max got the hint and helped him toss the heavy orc into the pen, where Pokey and the others immediately began to rip into it.

  Turning away, Max pointed toward the mine entrance. “This could get ugly, if we run into a bunch of them at once. If you hear me shout, “Hit the dirt!” drop down and try to get behind something. You’ll have maybe two seconds.” Looking at Smitty, he added, “I have sort of a magic grenade spell. Makes shit explode. So if you hear me shout “Boom!”, same deal. Hit the dirt. Get behind a big rock. Cover your head.”

  “Oh, this I gotta see!” Smitty gave him a thumbs-up and began to walk toward the mine. He carried his same bow, but now also had a sword strapped to his back. Since he was good with a bow, Max vowed to try and find him a minotaur bow like his own.

  Max held his sword in hand, keeping in mind his promise to Steelbender to increase his skill. That hadn’t happened yet, but he hadn’t used it all that much so far.

  They paused inside the mine, giving their eyes time to adjust. Both dwarves and Max could actually see in the dark better than Smitty, or the miners for that matter. Orcs were not naturally creatures of the underground. Smitty led the way, hoping that his presence would confuse the miners for a few seconds, giving their party time to get the all-important first strike. They proceeded down the main shaft for three minutes before Max heard the squeak of metal wheels on metal rails. He hissed at the group and whispered “Cart” as he pressed himself against the side of the shaft. The dwarves did the same, and Smitty nocked an arrow, but stood in the tracks and tried to act natural.

  The shaft was dimly lit, with a lantern placed every fifty paces or so, just as a marker for the miners to follow. Not that they really needed it, as they could just follow the cart track all the way to the exit. But Max understood the psychological need for a little light in the darkness. The spot where they were standing was roughly midway between lanterns, so the party could see the two orcs pushing the fully laden cart up the tracks well before the orcs could see them.

  Smitty stood his ground, watching the cart pass by the lamp in front of him, and cleared his throat. The orcs’ head snapped up, and upon spotting Smitty, one of them growled, “What you doin here?”

  Smitty just smiled and raised his bow, firing an arrow into the orc’s chest. “Your mother was a hamster!” He shouted as he turned to retreat up the tracks. Both orcs roared in anger and gave chase, the one with the arrow in his chest a little slower. When the distracted orcs reached the others’ position, the dwarves shield-slammed the one closest to them, knocking him back onto his butt. Max simply stabbed out with his sword, driving it into the chest of the faster moving orc. He then stepped to one side and ripped the blade toward him, levering it inside the orc’s chest, shattering ribs and ripping flesh. Blood fountained briefly before the heart stopped pumping and the body slid to the floor.

  Smitty had turned around and run back to the cart, grabbing hold to keep it from rolling back down and announcing their presence. The two dwarves had pinned the already wounded orc to the floor and were mercilessly hacking away at it. Having no weapon other than a belt knife, the orc expired quickly.

  They looted the orcs, Max claimed the ears, and Battleaxe showed them how to lock the wheels of the cart to keep it still. “This be silver ore, in case yer interested.” He informed Max, one eyebrow raised. When he saw Max’s answering grin, he chuckled.

  They continued down the main shaft until it branched off to the left and right, as well as continuing forward. Battleaxe motioned for them to be quiet, and he put his ear to the wall of each shaft. With a nod, he pointed. “There be miners workin down the left shaft, and much farther down the main.”

  “Left first.” Smitty and Max said in unison. The dwarves nodded, and they advanced. Just as before, there was limited light, but the shaft ran in a mostly straight line with cart tracks down the center. As the sound of picks hitting stone grew louder, Smitty readied his bow again. This ti
me they were the ones moving, and he hoped they’d be standing in the darkness when he spotted the enemy.

  That was not to be.

  Smitty spotted the miners, three of them, hacking away near the end of the shaft, which was well lit with four lanterns so that the orcs could see what they were doing. Unfortunately, he was standing almost directly even with a lamp himself, and one of the orcs noticed him. “You! Why you here?” It paused in swinging its pick to shout at him. A second later he noticed the dwarves, and roared at the site of their hated enemy. The three orcs charged, picks held over one shoulder, tusks bared.

  Smitty fired two arrows before retreating behind the dwarves, who raised their shields and planted their feet. Max waited until the orcs were five feet out from the shield wall before casting Confuse on all three. The orcs didn’t slow their charge, momentum keeping them speeding toward the dwarves. But they did lower their weapons and look around right before they slammed into the shields. Max leapt forward and began to hack and slash at the orcs, taking as much advantage of the twenty seconds as he could. The dwarves, after recovering from the impact, also stepped in with hand axe and short sword. Smitty stood with bow ready, but didn’t risk a shot that might hit a friend.

  The orcs perished without much trouble, and again the bodies were looted and the ears claimed. “That’s six.” Smitty commented unnecessarily as Dalia healed a series of deep gouges on Max’s face. One of the orcs had recovered enough to claw at him, nearly taking his eye.

  Max took a moment to check his loot, and was surprised to see that each of the orcs had dropped some silver ore. When he asked Battleaxe about it, the old dwarf nodded. “Aye, they might’ve been getting’ paid a percentage of ore they dug. But more likely they be stealin’ what they can get away with. Ye see’d that the foreman weren’t much fer oversight.”

  Shrugging, Max pointed back the way they’d come, and once again Smitty took the lead. They returned to the main shaft, and followed it down. Smitty looked at Max. “Does this remind you of dungeon runs at all?”

  “I didn’t really play the rpgs like you guys did. I was mostly a first person shooter guy. But let’s hope we already killed the boss up top, and there isn’t some big monster waiting down here for us.”

  “Dude!” Smitty raised a finger to his mouth in a shushing sign. “Don’t say stuff like that! You’ll curse us!” Both dwarves nodded their heads in agreement, all three of them rolling their eyes at Max as if he’d just broken some universal law.

  Smitty quickly turned away from Max and moved forward down the shaft. Another few minutes, and it began to curve to the left and the slope became slightly steeper. The sounds of picks on stone were growing louder, as were several voices. The group, except for Smitty, hugged the inner wall of the curve as they advanced. They froze when Smitty came to an abrupt halt and stiffened up. He whispered out of the side of his mouth, not an easy thing for an orc with tusks. “Six of them.”

  The orcs, apparently busy with their conversation, didn’t notice him standing there. So he slowly moved to hug the wall as well, then backed up out of sight around the curve. The party listened as the orcs worked and talked, occasionally laughing at some joke.

  Max decided to even the odds a bit. He moved past Smitty and leaned out enough that he could see the orcs. There were indeed six of them, four wielding picks against the rough walls at the end of the shaft, and two loading chunks of stone into one of two carts sitting at the end of the tracks. Grinning to himself, Max pointed to the rearmost cart, which was full to the rim with stones, and was closest to the two loaders as well as the miners. As loudly as he could, he shouted, “Boom!”. He saw the orcs jump, startled, and turn his direction before he ducked back behind the curve of the wall.

  A second later there was a deafening blast, the metal of the cart exploding outward. Shattered stone and metal fragments peppered the orcs as the ground around them shook and debris fell from the ceiling, covering the party in dust and small stones. Battleaxe cursed and shouted, “Move back, ye fool! Ye might have caused a collapse!” Without waiting he began to hustle back up the tunnel.

  The shaking didn’t last long, and in less than a minute the scout stopped running. He waited, listening with an ear to the wall for another five minutes as the others waited in silence. Finally he nodded his head just once. “I’m thinkin’ it be safe enough, fer now.” He glared at Max. “Ye should have asked me before ye set off yer boom inside a mine! Ye coulda buried us all.”

  Max, properly chagrined, hung his head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  The dwarf just snorted and stomped past him, back toward the orcs and the end of the shaft. As it turned out, the orcs had done good work in digging the mine, providing thick support timbers as they went. The only area of collapse was right at the end of the shaft, and even that was minimal. They were able to quickly dig out the shredded and crushed orc corpses to loot them and claim their ears. This time both Smitty and Dalia had leveled up, and the recently grumpy Battleaxe began to laugh. Pointing toward the end wall of the shaft where a chunk of earth and stone had calved off the wall and fallen away, he shouted.

  “There be a gold vein! The damned orcs were a few hours from strikin’ gold when ye killed em!”

  “Ha! Can we mine it real quick?” Smitty asked, peering at the spot where the dwarf was pointing. All but one of the lamps had been extinguished by the collapse.

  The old dwarf thought about it for a moment. “Lemme look around.” He quickly produced a helmet with a headlamp from his storage and donned it, looking closely at the stone. Dalia retrieved one of the orcs’ picks and handed it to him, and he tapped at the walls and ceiling for a good fifteen minutes. “Aye, it be secure enough, if the big fella don’t cast no more magic.” He shot Max a warning look, and Max raised both hands in surrender.

  For the next hour, the dwarf showed Max and Smitty how to properly swing a mining pick. Smitty learned the Mining skill, while Max’s increased. By the time the hour passed, they had chipped loose hundreds of pounds of ore, and Max’s Mining skill was at level six. There was more gold in the seam for the taking, but Battleaxe called a halt.

  While the first mining cart was destroyed, the second was mostly intact. It had been knocked over, and the back end was badly dented and scarred, but it was functional. They loaded the cart with the gold ore, and Max and Smitty pushed it up the tracks all the way to the mine entrance. As they exited, a notification popped up for Max.

  You have captured a mine!

  By killing all the miners and the foreman, you have earned the right to claim the Northern Silver Mine on behalf of Stormhaven. Would you like to claim ownership of this mine? Yes/No.

  Max quickly informed the others, and the old scout laughed. “Aye, ye can claim it. But whoever owns it now will be gettin’ a notification that it be lost to them. If that be the war chief, then ye’ll be makin yer peace mission a bit tougher.”

  Max had suspected as much, which was the only reason he hadn’t immediately clicked yes. With a sigh, he clicked no and watched the notification fade away. They found some heavy canvas tarps and used them to create four large improvised saddlebags. Dividing up the gold ore into the four bags, they then draped them over their mounts backs behind their saddles. Each bag weighed more than a hundred pounds, but the beasts didn’t seem to notice. They took a few minutes to ransack the foreman’s shack, finding a chest filled with silver and gold nuggets.

  “His retirement fund.” The old dwarf commented, shaking his head. Max put the entire chest in his inventory, along with a couple of nearly new mining picks, two lamps, and a detailed drawing of the mine that listed distances, shaft height and width, even the grades of the slopes.

  On the way back, they kept a sedate pace. Despite the fact that Pokey and the others didn’t seem unduly burdened by the bags of ore, Smitty didn’t want to tire them out or injure them by letting them run. As a result it was more than an hour before they returned to the farm. They dug a second hole behind the
barn, this one much deeper, and buried the gold bags while Smitty unsaddled the mounts.

  When they got back to the house, Smitty requested help feeding the mounts, and Max volunteered. He was beginning to like Pokey, and was considering keeping him. Max chuckled when Smitty led him to Grelza’s body, and said “I’ll get the farmer, you drag her over.”

  Max surprised Smitty by shaking his head, walking over to the farmer, and lifting the smelly corpse over his shoulder. Smitty did the same with Grelza, and they moved as quickly as they could to deposit their burdens in the corral. All six of the mounts happily dug in, the ones who’d recently chowed down on the foreman seeming just as voracious as the others.

  Back in the house, Dalia was using some of the supplies she’d looted earlier to cook a big meal. There were eggs, steaks of some kind, onions and potato-things that ended up tasting much like sweet potatoes. And there was ale to drink. Smitty said the next patrol should arrive after dark, so the four of them sat around the table and enjoyed the meal without posting a sentry.

  When the meal was over, they cleared the table and began to plan their ambush of the expected patrol. They had come up with a plan, modified it several times, and then reviewed it twice to make sure everyone was clear on their role. With the sun beginning to set, they each took their positions.

  Their plan hinged on the fact that Smitty was a known entity who belonged at the farm. It was his job to take the patrol’s mounts and lead them into the corral, where he would normally unsaddle and feed them while the orcs went inside for food and rest.

  So that’s exactly what the patrol saw when they arrived well after dark. Smitty grunted and waved them over to where he stood near the corral gate. The orcs mostly ignored him, dismounting and handing him their reins before heading toward the house, talking amongst themselves about a good meal and some ale. They didn’t notice that Smitty simply tied up the mounts and followed behind, taking up his bow and nocking an arrow.