‘Run away!’ shouted the dwarf that had been caught by Og. ‘Escape while you can!’
The three free dwarves all turned and ran, making for different exits from the inn. Grim followed one of them to the rear entrance.
‘Oi!’ Dog shouted at his captive. ‘Stop biting!’ He clunked the dwarf into the wall of the inn in an effort to make him stop.
Grim left the inn. Outside, Assata had wrestled one of the dwarves to the floor and locked its arm behind its back.
‘Up!’ she demanded, pulling on the arm, and the third dwarf reluctantly got to its feet.
They skirted around the building, looking for the others. Success. Hassletoff had a sword pointed at the fourth dwarf. Raya had an arrow fixed on the fifth. Sandon and Brother Kane stood with her, though it was unclear what help they had been.
‘The reeve nodded at them. ‘Well done, deputies. Come on, let’s go. I have enough room in my cells for them all.’
THE REEVE OF DORWICH CITY
They stood together outside the reeve’s office. Grim sensed the sadness in the group. Raya and Sandon had known Gurin and the other dwarves for a long time. It was a shame it had ended like this. But they had attacked innocents, and it was hard to argue that they didn’t deserve to be punished.
‘What will happen to them?’ he asked into the silence.
The others looked at one another, until their eyes rested on Hassletoff.
The reeve sighed. ‘If the court finds them guilty of murder, then it’s a death sentence.’
‘Anything less and it’s a fine,’ Sandon said, adding a note of optimism.
‘Well,’ said Grim, feeling a little awkward. ‘We came here to find out why our dungeon was being attacked so frequently. We’ve discovered the reason, and hopefully, put a stop to it. I guess it’s time for us to go back home.’
‘I’ll miss you,’ said Raya. Before the ogre realised what was happening, the elf was hugging them, Og and Dog gently patting her head and shoulders.
‘Here,’ said Dog, his voice sounding emotional. He held out Raya’s amulet.
‘You keep it,’ she said. ‘You might need it.’
Then the others said their farewells, too. Assata banged fists with Og.
‘Fight the power,’ he told her.
‘You know I will.’
Sandon and Hassletoff went for the more traditional shaking of hands, and finally Brother Kane sprinkled water into their faces in a goodbye blessing.
But as it turned out, it was not quite time for Og-Grim-Dog to leave.
A young man came running up the street towards the group. He stopped before them, red-faced and gasping.
‘Hassletoff, there’s a militia outside the city walls demanding entry. We said we’d fetch you.’
The reeve rolled his eyes. ‘Damn, it’s one of those days. How many, Oliver? Did you get a name?’
‘Must be about fifty. It’s Deston, from Dorwich City.’
Uh-oh, Grim said to himself.
‘Damn. What does he want?’
The young man raised a shaky arm and pointed it at Og-Grim-Dog. ‘They’ve come for him.’
The gossip had spread around Mer Khazer. A large crowd was gathered by the city gates. Grim sensed that the atmosphere was tense. Some of the citizens were clearly worried about letting Deston inside. Others were more pugnacious, ready to stand up to the outsiders.
As the six of them approached, the reeve was bombarded with questions. The citizenry demanded to know what he was going to do.
‘Alright, alright,’ he said, waving his hands irritably. ‘I will talk to them.’
‘Oh shit,’ said Raya.
A delegation of twenty individuals arrived at the scene. Grim recognised some of them as employees of the Bureau. There was the tall human woman who had originally prevented him from enrolling, and who had delighted in telling him when the constitution had been rewritten to exclude ogres. There was the ineffectual centaur from Non-Human Resources; the witch from Magical Items. These individuals waited in the background as two armour-clad warriors stepped forward, helmets hiding their features, on either side of a sorcerer. He was clad in a black robe, a wooden staff in his hand. He oozed power and authority.
‘Barclay,’ Sandon said under his breath. ‘The Director of the Bureau.’
‘Hassletoff?’ Barclay demanded, his voice part malice, part resignation at the incompetence of others.
‘Director Barclay?’
‘I understand that the ogre in your company is wanted for questioning by the authorities of Dorwich City. The Bureau has made it very clear that there is no place for him in our organisation. Please, escort him from the city.’
But, Director Barclay,’ Hassletoff objected. ‘Only today, Og-Grim-Dog served the city as one of my deputies. It would be unfair to hand him over without any assurances as to his safety.’
Barclay raised one eyebrow. ‘Hassletoff, you hold your office based on my recommendation of your fitness to serve. Don’t make me withdraw that recommendation.’
‘Get the ogre out!’ someone from the crowd shouted. Others joined in, demanding that Og-Grim-Dog be expelled from Mer Khazer.
‘You cheered for us just days ago!’ Og shouted at them angrily, his voice loud enough to silence the crowd. ‘What’s changed?’
‘You see?’ Barclay asked, speaking to Hassletoff. ‘The monster is a danger. If you can’t deal with this, I will have to.’
The two warriors at his side put their hands on the hilts of their swords. Hassletoff copied their move. Assata placed a hand on the halfling’s shoulder.
‘No. Open the gates. We’ll go out with him.’
‘But—’
‘Getting yourself killed isn’t going to solve anything.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Sandon added. ‘We’ve got this.’
Reluctantly, the reeve took his hand from his weapon and ordered the gates to the city opened. They revealed fifty armed humans waiting for them on the other side.
Grim walked through. His four friends followed him.
Dog held up his arm. ‘No. This isn’t your fight.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Assata told him, her voice burning with anger. ‘Of course it is.’
Dog decided not to argue. Grim smiled to himself. They had never had friends like this before, and it felt good. The five of them walked out and stopped in a line in front of the soldiers of Dorwich City.
‘I’ve got this,’ Sandon told them, removing his shoes. Grim got a glimpse of bony toes and long nails that hadn’t been cut back in years. ‘On the island of Tokaido there is a sect of holy warriors, the Bujutsu, whose learning stretches back centuries. I studied with the wise ones of that creed for two years, learning a deep spirituality, as well as the secrets of their martial prowess. All I need to do is locate the inner peace I discovered on that island, and I will be able to vanquish our enemies with ease.’ The wizard began humming to himself.
One of the men took a few steps forward. He was tall and muscular, one of the strongest looking humans Grim had ever seen. He walked with a casual confidence.
‘If you didn’t know, I’m Deston, the reeve at Dorwich. We’re after the ogre,’ he said, nodding in the direction of Og-Grim-Dog. ‘We’ve tracked it here from Urlay village. I need to find out what it knows about an attack on the village.’
‘The ogre was investigating the attack on Urlay,’ said Brother Kane. ‘He was not involved in it. We have apprehended the villains responsible in Mer Khazer. They will face justice for that crime.’
Deston smiled pleasantly. ‘Interesting. Let me make this clear, cleric: I have a great respect for men of faith. But I will be taking that ogre for interrogation. I am responsible for the defence of the lands about Dorwich; including Urlay. I saw the ogre there with my own eyes. Please, return to your city now. That goes for the rest of you. Let me do my job. I won’t ask a second time.’
At these words, Assata drew her sword. She looked across at Raya, who took her bow from her shoulder and strung it.
Dog took his mace in his hand, and Og his pike. Brother Kane removed his vial of holy water, fingers hovering above the stopper. Next to him, Sandon continued to hum.
Deston’s eyebrows raised, genuinely shocked at the response. ‘There’s fifty of us—all armed, you fools!’ He shook his head. ‘So be it. I gave you fair warning.’ He signalled to his men. They raised their shields and hefted their spears. Grim looked at the faces. Some grinned, some were expressionless. Not a single one of them looked nervous.
Suddenly, there was a high-pitched scream, and a figure flew in the air towards the nearest of Deston’s soldiers. It was Sandon. What followed was one of the strangest things Grim had ever witnessed.
The wizard moved so fast that Deston’s men were unable to react. A foot crunched into the head of the soldier, but already Sandon’s other foot was kicking the man next to him. So it went on, the wizard’s feet running from one enemy to the next, while his body remained airborne. His legs moved faster than Grim had thought possible, kicking out, snapping heads back, sending armed men crashing to the floor. His big toes found their way into eyes and up nostrils. Should a soldier manage to dodge one foot, the second clobbered into them, sending them sprawling. Deston found his head locked between two bony shins, before Sandon flipped him over and over, until he hit the ground. Finally, when every single soldier had been sent to the floor, Sandon returned to his starting position.
They all looked at him, open-mouthed. Sandon placed his palms together and bowed. ‘That took me back. But as they say on Tokaido—once a Bujutsu, always a Bujutsu.’
Grim strode towards Deston. The reeve found the blade of Og’s pike at his neck.
‘We were at Urlay investigating the orcish attack on the village,’ Grim told him. ‘We have identified and apprehended the culprits. So, there really is no need for your posse to stay in the field. You can return to Dorwich City, reassured that the danger is gone, and justice is served.’
Deston eyed the pike at his neck. ‘Of course. Apologies for being slow to understand. We will return to Dorwich immediately.’
Grim nodded, satisfied, and Og withdrew the weapon. They watched as Deston’s men got to their feet, and the reeve led them away from the city.
‘Well, that was a fun way to end our little adventure,’ Grim said to his friends. ‘But now I think it really is time to return to Darkspike Dungeon.’
‘I am sorry we won’t be dungeoneering with you again,’ Sandon told them. ‘Unfortunately, I fear there are dark forces at the Bureau, who will always seek to work against you. Until we can mount a proper challenge to them, you will have enemies in Mer Khazer.’
‘That’s alright,’ said Og. ‘For a little while I enjoyed being a hero. But today I learned that it’s an illusion. The people can be turned against you.’
‘Not all the people,’ said Assata. ‘The ones who matter will always remember you.’
BACK HOME
Things were soon back to the way they had always been at Darkspike Dungeon. Queen Krim and the orcs recovered from the depredations of the trespassers, until one day she even felt strong enough to send out a small raiding party.
Og-Grim-Dog could enjoy their dank cavern in peace, so long as they ignored the noise from the kobolds upstairs. In fact, it was so peaceful, that the brothers were pleased to see Gary the goblin when he arrived at their home once more. He had come to deliver a letter, and after a polite chat, the ogre sat itself on the floor and settled down to read the words.
It was quite lengthy, and Og was the only brother who could read it easily.
Written at The Bruised Bollocks
Dear Og-Grim-Dog,
I hope you are enjoying your ‘retirement’ from dungeoneering. I thought you might like to hear our news from Mer Khazer.
The big story is the escape of Gurin ‘Fuckaxe’ and his dwarven friends from Toff’s cells. There was a night-time break-in and all six dwarves were sprung. It turns out there was a seventh dwarf loose in the city—Seven Dwarves! I guess we should have known!
‘I don’t get it,’ said Dog. ‘Why should we have known there were seven dwarves?’
‘I don’t know, Dog,’ said Grim. ‘Probably an elven joke. They have a weird sense of humour. Carry on, Og.’
Gurin and his friends left the city, no-one knows where to. I’m not really sure what to think about it, but a part of me is glad that Gurin got away.
The adventuring life hasn’t changed that much. There aren’t any dwarf heroes anymore, which makes things a bit more challenging. The dungeons aren’t quite as ‘soft’ as they were, either, now that the fake orc raids have stopped. But the Bureau is still the same. Assata and Sandon talk darkly of ‘dealing’ with it. They send their love by the way, as does Brother Kane.
I had a chilli burger and fries at Sheev’s today and thought of you. Hence the letter.
Well, that’s it from me. Smell ya later,
Raya S
‘So, Gurin escaped, eh?’ said Og. ‘I’m with the elf. Not sure what to think about that.’
‘Good luck to him, I say,’ said Dog.
‘It was nice of Raya to write us,’ said Grim. ‘The human lands are a confusing place. All those people running around, trying to live their busy little lives. And all of them with just the one head each. Makes me think it must be lonely. Makes me think—’ Grim paused. Ogres didn’t do emotions, but a strange feeling had come over him. ‘Makes me think I’m lucky to have you two for company.’
Og and Dog nodded, clearing their throats awkwardly.
‘Yes, well,’ said Dog gruffly. ‘Listening to that letter made me hungry. How are we doing for bones?’
‘I think we have plenty,’ said Og. ‘Come on, Grim, let’s take a look.’
Grim got to his feet. He took a step towards their pile of bones in the corner, but then stopped.
‘I don’t want to,’ he said.
‘What?’ Dog demanded. ‘You fancy fresh meat tonight?’
‘No. I don’t want us to spend the rest of our lives at the bottom of this dungeon, gnawing on bones. I want us to go on more adventures, while we still can. Alright, maybe we’re not suited to being heroes. Maybe it’s too soon for three-headed ogres to be accepted. But that doesn’t mean we have to stay down here. Hiding from the world.’
‘Hiding?’ demanded Dog. ‘I’m not hiding from nothing.’
‘Alright, Grim,’ said Og. ‘If it’s adventures you want, I’m game. After all, it’s you who has to do all the walking.’
‘What do you say, Dog?’ Grim asked.
‘I won’t have it said I’m holding us back from a fight. Let’s do it.’
Og-Grim-Dog put their possessions into a travelling pack and put their weapons on their belt. They left their cavern. They walked past rooms full of goblins, who peered at them suspiciously. They stopped to say goodbye to Queen Krim, Sovereign and Despot of the Black Orcs. Then they left Darkspike Dungeon behind them and went into the Great Outside.
THE END OF THE MIDDLE
The Recorder made his final flourishes. The Flayed Testicles was deadly silent, save for the scratch of quill on parchment. When he was done, he opened a pouch and sprinkled sand onto the fresh ink.
The three heads of the Landlord, and the many heads of his customers, stared intently at the small form perched near the bar. Seemingly oblivious of their attention, the Recorder shook out the stiffness from his hand and then rubbed at his sore wrist.
‘Well?’ the third head of the ogre demanded, his patience exhausted. ‘I shouldn’t have to remind you that your life, and the life of everyone here, is at stake. Do you claim that those marks you have made on your pages accurately portray our story?’
‘I believe so,’ said the Recorder with confidence.
Some in the Testicles relaxed a little, but others knew better. For their Landlord had yet to give his approval.
‘Then we have only one question,’ said the third head, a sly smile on his face. ‘The tale we told tonight wasn’t the most glo
rious episode in our lives we could have shared. But you could say it was the most important. If you are truly a master of your craft, you will know why we chose it. Why did we really start in the middle?’
The customers of the inn frowned at one another in confusion. Why did their Landlord begin the story of his life at the middle? It had been a strange decision. In the quiet and peaceable realm of Magidu, stories always started at the beginning and carried on until the end.
‘Because,’ the Recorder replied in a clear voice, ‘this was the moment when you chose to live. The moment when you chose danger and adventure over safety and familiarity. Thus, all the infamous deeds of Og-Grim-Dog can be traced back to your time in Mer Khazer: to your decision to leave your dungeon; to a letter written by an elf; to the friends you made.’
The Landlord stared at the Recorder for a while. The customers of the inn could see different expressions on his three faces: they could see disappointment and respect and relief. Finally, the middle head spoke.
‘You are wise, Recorder. Wiser than you seem. And you have earned the right to record our story for posterity. Same time tomorrow?’
‘Alright,’ said the Recorder, who began to pack up his equipment.
‘You’ll like tomorrow’s story,’ said the first head, a vicious looking grin appearing on his face. ‘No more Mr Nice Guys.’
END CREDITS
The customers of The Flayed Testicles spilled out onto the streets, ready to stagger back to their homes. As the fresh air hit them, a wave of relief struck with it. They had made it out alive.
Then the shadow of the Landlord loomed in the doorway behind them. Reluctantly, they turned to look.
‘And a nice review wouldn’t go amiss,’ suggested the ogre.
Review this book on Amazon
Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If so, you might want to try book 2, Og-Grim-Dog and The Dark Lord.
Og-Grim-Dog- the Three-Headed Ogre Page 11
