Second Skin Omnibus

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Second Skin Omnibus Page 103

by M Damon Baker


  An even dozen of the beasts stepped into the open ground. Three of them lugged heavy chains behind them, dragging the crude iron links over the earth as they positioned themselves along the front lines. Another three ogres held back, remaining at the rear of the enemy’s line and seeming to act as a reserve. It was the six ogres that stayed in between that concerned me most, however, as they clearly represented the gravest threat.

  Each of that half dozen hefted a heavy span of crude wood planks, fastened together to form a gangway of sorts. The makeshift ramps were long enough to span the distance from the ground to the top of our walls, and if we let the ogres put them in place, the entire orc horde would easily overwhelm us with their superior numbers. The orcs’ strategy was simple—they would use the ogres’ raw power to get their breaching devices in place, and then tear us to pieces.

  My vision flared and the field before me flashed green for an instant when I took in the mighty host arrayed against us. Heated rage boiled in my veins and I wanted nothing more than to obliterate every last one of them. I recognized that the wild emotions would be counterproductive, so I reined in my anger quickly, and began to carefully evaluate our defenses.

  We could not allow any of those gangways to reach our defenses. Just one of them would probably spell our doom. The only thing in our arsenal capable of taking the ogres out were Dellon and Ilvain’s weapons, and I hoped that the crews manning them were up to the task. They’d mostly practiced with the weapons in secret behind the cover of the wall to prevent the orcs from observing them. Fortunately, the ogres presented a large enough target that even with the limited time they had to familiarize themselves with the operation of the devices, I felt they should be able to manage it.

  As the horde slowly moved forward, they encountered my own little wrinkle on Renn’s surprise. Before we’d retreated behind the wall, I had the last of our people lay a thick barrier of tar across the entire outline of the field we had cleared. Moving towards our defenses forced the orcs to cross the sticky substance, coating their feet in gooey black tar. I had hoped that they might encounter the obstacle during a headlong rush towards our defenses. Hitting the sticky mess at full speed would have caused half their army to tumble to the ground, breaking their charge. But the orc commander was far more deliberate than I had anticipated, and instead of rushing at us haphazardly, his troops marched slowly and in unison, presenting a unified front, something I had not seen during any of my past encounters with the green-skinned brutes. Clearly, their leader was more calculating than the typical orc thug.

  I spotted my opposite as he wiped away the tar from his feet with disdain. If the elaborately adorned heavy armor he wore hadn’t been enough for me to pick him out, the icon above his head that read ‘Orc Chieftain,’ certainly confirmed his identity for me.

  The orcs were eager to attack, but the chieftain held his troops at bay while they cleaned the tar from their gear. Any hope I had of slowing their approach vanished as the sticky mess was removed. All that was left to slow their approach were the caltrops that Hilgreth and the others had laid across the rest of the field.

  But even with the tar behind them, the orcs still did not engage us with a headlong charge. Instead, the first group of ogres ran forward, sweeping the ground in front of them with the thick links of chain that they carried.

  The tactic worked, and the ring of metal on metal echoed through the air as the heavy chain swept away the hidden caltrops from the field. The ogres ventured within range of our weapons, and I was relieved when none of our hidden weapons opened fire. These ogres might have disrupted our plans, but we needed to keep our surprise in reserve until the true threat was in range. Taking out the ogres with the gangways was far more critical to our success than protecting the field of caltrops.

  The orc Chieftain’s expression of contempt only intensified with the success of his strategy. Then, with an offhanded wave to his lieutenants, the attack began in earnest.

  Six ogres bellowed in rage as they ran towards us with their gangways held high. Broda and Khorim dropped the wooden facades that had concealed our secret weapons, and lined up a shot on the charging giants, and almost simultaneously, four large ballista bolts shot forth from our defenses.

  Three of the monsters went down instantly, impaled by the spear-sized projectiles. The fourth bolt missed, passing through two orcs before lodging in a tree in the forest behind the charging horde. I heard shouting from along the wall as the ballistae were frantically reloaded, hoping against all odds for a second shot before the rest of the ogres arrived with the remaining gangways.

  With the battle engaged, the elven archers climbed atop the walls. They instantly launched a volley of arrows, but amid the vast army that approached us, the effect was simply pitiful. Undeterred, the elves continued to fire, choosing their targets carefully. They almost didn’t need to—the field before us was nearly choked with orcs. Even an arrow loosed at random was likely to find some target.

  While the elves were busy doing their part, I focused on trying to take out more of the ogres. I drew back an arrow and was about to imbue it with Shockwave when a tiny voice whispered in my head.

  Strength.

  Although I had never heard it so clearly before, I recognized the sound of that voice immediately. It was the voice that had been calling to me almost since the moment I had arrived in this world, nudging me in one direction or another, directing me along the entire path I had followed—bringing me to the very point I was at that day.

  And imbedded in that word was far more than just a single syllable. I understood then why I had been so focused on channeling my emotions earlier that day. It suddenly became clear just what I had been overlooking. The hidden power that had eluded me earlier was now all too obvious. All of this happened in a fraction of an instant, and I abandoned any thought of channeling Shockwave, following the advice of my unknown benefactor instead.

  Tendrils of blue energy extended from my fingertips and traced along the shaft of my arrow as I drew back on the string. When they reached the Khelduin head, the energy funneled into the magically resonant metal and filled it with my power. The sharp blades of the arrowhead began to glow, and before the energy I was pouring into the shaft could exceed the limits of the metal, I released the string and launched the powerfully enhanced missile at the ogre I had been targeting.

  The beast was wielding the gangway it carried like a shield, protecting it from the arrows that were being aimed at it as it approached our fortifications. My shaft struck near the center of that span and exploded on impact in a spray of powerful energy. The force of the blast not only tore apart the crude shield, but ripped off both of the ogre’s arms, and launched the giant backwards, leaving it dazed and bleeding profusely from the obviously mortal wounds.

  That arrow had not only carried the enhanced power that the Bow of Impact had imparted to it, but the Khelduin head had been nearly overloaded by the force I had poured into it. Instead of channeling love or hate or any other emotion, I had filled it with the essence of my own Strength instead. The idea of channeling an Attribute into my actions was the concept that had been eluding me earlier that morning. The ability to focus the power of my stats into something more tangible changed everything, but fully contemplating the importance of that revelation would have to wait. There was still and entire orc army to deal with, and more importantly, the ogres they had brought with them. I hurried to fire another Strength laden arrow at the next ogre when the strange voice rang in my head once more.

  Slowly.

  The voice was fainter, less powerful this time, as if the effort of communicating with me so openly had taken a toll on the speaker. But still, just as before, the voice transmitted far more information than the single word.

  Within that word was a caution. A warning not to press too hard or channel too much, or else the process might overwhelm me, just as trying to perform two resurrection had done before. I was somewhat disturbed that the voice was able to evoke the mem
ory of that event in me so easily, but took the advice to heart, and channeled Shockwave into my next shot instead.

  I hoped that the power of the energy released would topple the ogre, or at least make it drop its heavy burden, but the effect on the beast was underwhelming. It simply shook off the impact before marching on again, almost completely unfazed by the energy I had unleashed on it. I had only one other hope and channeled a Blind arrow at my next target.

  As I scanned the battlefield, I saw that all five remaining gangways were once again in play. The ones that were dropped by the dead ogres had been picked up by others. But the deaths of the four ogres had broken the lines of their attack. Instead of coming towards us at the same pace, they were staggered, with two leading the way while three more followed further behind.

  I fired my Blind arrow at one of the two closest ogres and the giant screamed in outrage as his world turned black. The creature dropped the heavy gangway, crushing several of the orcs that were accompanying him in the process. The effect would not last long, but at least for the moment, he was out of the battle.

  Only one ogre remained close to us, but he was almost within striking distance once I had blinded the other one. I couldn’t risk him placing the span he carried across our moat and resorted to the only talent I had that was certain to end the threat he represented. Channeling my Strength once more, I loaded the Khelduin arrowhead almost to bursting before firing it into the ogre’s body.

  The ogre had been approaching Khorim’s section of the wall. The dwarf was still desperately trying to reset his ballista while his archers fruitlessly peppered the ogre with arrows in an attempt to stave it off. The ogre responded to their efforts by holding the span it carried in front of its body, and the wood of the gangway was so thickly studded with their arrows that it resembled a pincushion. The ogre’s attempt to defend himself left his entire flank exposed to me, and my arrow plunged deep into his flesh before the power of the Strength infused shaft exploded within him.

  The giant’s blood and viscera sprayed across the ground in a fountain of gore, covering everything around him in a thick coat of red blood and ragged hunks of flesh. The sight of the ogre’s body falling to the ground was the last thing I saw before the toll of my own exertions overcame me. Unlike when I had pushed myself before, the effect only amounted to a few short moments of lightheadedness that resolved quickly. Unfortunately, during those few precious moments, things had gone very, very badly for us.

  I heard the thrum of the ballista firing from within the haze of my mind. As I stood up again, I expected to see several more of the ogres lying dead with our massive bolts protruding from their bodies. While this was indeed the case, and three more of our giant foes had joined their brethren in death’s embrace, the others were almost upon us.

  While the ogre I had blinded was still bellowing and searching about in the darkness, the three remaining ogres each held one of the gangways in their hands and were rapidly advancing on us. I might have been able to get off one last Strength enhanced shot, but I was certain the effort would be the end of me for the rest of the fight. Even if I took one of the ogres out with that shot, that would still leave two of them, and I doubted our chances if even one of the gangways they carried made its way to the top of our walls. Two of them would mean certain doom for all of us. I was left with only one option. Although it was premature, I set our plan for the destruction of the orc horde in motion, praying that they would not see through our deception.

  “Raise the gate, don’t let them in!” I shouted loudly, making sure that my voice carried well beyond the wall to our foes outside.

  We had left the gate barely half-closed, feigning another mechanical failure. My order was the signal to begin a desperate attempt to raise the drawbridge.

  The heavy span creaked upwards in jerks and spasms. When it got almost to the top, the mechanism appeared to break, and the effect was enhanced by the loud cracking of wood and grinding of metal gears that echoed from the drawbridge’s controls. The dwarves had outdone themselves in that regard, rigging a bit of machinery to mimic the sound of shearing metal as they snapped a few boards to add to the effect.

  The drawbridge lurched and then came crashing to the ground, offering our opponents an apparently clear path through our defenses. Raucous war cries erupted from the horde as they surged across the span, each one hungering to be among the first to spill our blood.

  From the outside, the orcs were unable to see the portcullis at the far end of the long passageway, and the first wave of them were shoved against its bars forcefully by those that followed. I heard Tási yelling commands and the defenders that lined the outer walls of the passageway thrust their long spears into the tightly packed mass of green-skinned bodies that were beginning to clog the passageway.

  The orcs on the outside had no idea what was going on inside the tunnel and continued to press forward, anxious to join in on the slaughter that they were certain was commencing inside. Orcs soon filled the entire entrance and were stacked on the drawbridge, eagerly trying to work their way across. With as many orcs packed into the narrow confines as possible, Tási shouted a second series of commands.

  Dwarves stationed on top of the passageway kicked over a series of barrels that we’d positioned over the murder holes in the ceiling. Foul-smelling oil gushed from the overturned barrels and sloshed across the roof of the tunnel, prevented from flowing over its sides by the small retaining wall that the stonemasons had added to the structure. The volatile oil that was a byproduct of Hildreth’s forge poured down on the orcs trapped in the tunnel, showering them in the viscous liquid.

  Over the din, I heard Tási’s final command echo from below. Although her previous order warned everyone to stand clear, this last shout served as a final notice for anyone who might have still been near the coming apocalypse.

  For a split second, I saw the flare of her fire bolt arc towards the portcullis, then there was nothing but a blinding flash of light. In an instant, flames shot out from both ends of the long tunnel, stoked to intense heat and propelled with incredible force within the narrow confines. Every orc that had been in the passage or on the drawbridge was instantly incinerated beyond recognition by the searing burst of flames. Even beyond the arc of fire, the conflagration continued to wreak havoc on the orcs. Cries of utter pain and anguish echoed across the field as skin melted away and bodies blistered from the heat that was projected by the unrelenting assault of raw power.

  The few remaining orcs looked about in a daze, stunned by the bright flash of light and the rapid reversal of fortunes that had destroyed almost their entire army. A few quick-witted ones tried to escape, but that was when the true intent behind the tar barrier came into play.

  Tási’s orders had not only been directed at the defenders under her command, but they also triggered a second series of actions. With her first shouts, the archers on the top floors of both towers began firing flaming arrows into the broad band of tar that was spread across the ground behind the attacking army. While the orcs were singularly focused on charging forward, the field behind them had been turned into a second conflagration. After the slaughter in the passageway, the tattered remnants of the orc host were trapped between our fortifications and the raging fire that now blocked their retreat.

  The three remaining ogres roared in outrage and tried to follow through on their original plan. Unfortunately for them, the distraction had given the crews time to rearm our ballistae, and four massive bolts ended their assault before they could even pick up their makeshift gangways again.

  The rest of the orcs fell rapidly under the relentless hail of arrows our archers rained down on them from the safety of the walls. A few attempted to make a desperate dash through the flames, but the sticky tar ensured that any who tried were roasted alive before they could escape.

  We knew that the gateway would be unusable once we lit the oil inside it, so when there were only a few orcs remaining, Stel lowered a ladder of our own and we climbed
down to the field below. Having endured the stunning defeat and under threat from our archers above, the handful of orcs surrendered meekly as we approached, casting aside their weapon and even stripping off their armor in a display of submission.

  “Who speaks for you?” I asked as we approached the pitiful group.

  “I will,” said the lone female orc among the small band of survivors.

  The woman stood in front of me, but maintained a respectful distance, a wise precaution under the circumstances. She was tall with a muscular build and proud bearing and I could tell that the passive stance she had assumed did not sit well with her. Still, she looked me in the eye as she spoke, unwilling to abandon that last shred of her dignity.

  I needed to know that what she told me next was true, so I discreetly cast See Truth on her before continuing the conversation.

  “Your tribe has attacked us three times now,” I told her pointedly. “Although we have defeated your unprovoked assaults, you continue to return. What will your people do after this defeat? Will there be another attack?”

  “No,” she replied reluctantly. “There will be no further attacks from the Black Hand. You have destroyed us. When you killed the Chieftain’s only son, he flew into a rage. He brought all our warriors here today, leaving only those too old, too sick, or too young to fight behind. Those who remain will either be killed or taken captive by our enemies. The Black Hand is no more.”

  The words that floated from her mouth came out in a torrent of blue tinged letters. Everything she said had been the absolute truth. With the threat of continued attacks removed, I didn’t much care about the answer to my next question, but curiosity got the better of me and I asked it anyway.

 

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