Death to the Deathforge

[Makorr]

I originally wrote this story asa script for a machinima, but due to my failures in making it into a worth watching machinima I have been rewriting it as a regular story. The scenes are now chapter like thingies =/

It's set during the Burning Crusade, some two-ish years prior to wotlk. I say two-ish because of how the timeline seems to constantly change by a year or two every now and then, heh.

I'd love brutally honest comments and critism and I hope you enjoy it.

Without any further introduction, I now post, Death to the deathforge!

[Makorr]

Death to the Deathforge

“Just trust me.”

You shameless harlot! You don’t know the meaning of trust!

“I… trust you, but I’m not so sure I trust that device.”

I looked at the creation secured to her back, though it was now covered with a thick leather to hide its violet glow, I remember how strange it appeared. Diamond shaped with arcane energy flowing through it one could feel the power radiating through it from such a short distance, but what was really surprising and curious was when I had held it closer I saw hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny cogs and gears turning within the bizarre construction. It was a bomb, both engineered and conjured.

“The gnome’s creations haven’t betrayed us yet.”

Like you betrayed me, harlot! Wench! Did my love mean nothing to you?!

“And I hope they never will.”

Fools die of bleeding hearts, not real men. Be gone thoughts of hate! Leave me as my love did!

“Quickly, beloved, the storm is thickening and it will provide the cover we need. We must leave on our quest now.”

She donned her helm, the twin of mine, and slung her pole-axe over her shoulder. She looked like an angelic warrior, plate armor almost shining the white of the dawn; the holy light seemed to radiate from her. She adorned four wings, a pair from her helm and a pair from her shoulder guards. Tabard long ago torn off, the mark of the dawn was carved into her breastplate. Inside of the sun was carved the word ‘hope’. I thought of my own armor, how it was grey and in some places blackened, how both my shoulder wings had long broken off, and how within my sun the word ‘fate’ not ‘hope’ was carved.

The Light shines brightest in the darkest of places. She is falsehood while I am the truth. I hide behind nothing.

I slid my helm carefully over head; I took up my war hammer, Stormherald, and we set out for the Deathforge.

[Makorr]

Sweat trickled down my nose and forehead, or up depending on how you look at things. I clung precariously to chains under a bridge of stone over a river of green molten lava. The Deathforge was filled with many spiraling caverns many of which these rivers passed through; here two caverns made a crossing, the lower one containing the lava and the higher one connected by a stone bridge thus providing safe passage. Slowly she and I edged forward, fighting back the overwhelming intensity of the river. Sentries marched back and forth on the bridge above us and waves of fel lava constantly lashed out dangerously close to us.

We reached the end of the bridge, already fatigued with still much to do, and waited for the moment. We separated, moving to opposite edges of the bridge’s underbelly ready to strike. A horn sounded, shrill and demonic, which silenced the river, the clanging of the sentries, and the sounds of the inner forges. Immediately afterwards, orcs could be heard barking orders and sentries charged to answer the call en masse. How long the dwarves feigned assault would distract them I could not tell.

We waited till their stomping steps were long gone and then sprung into action. I pulled myself onto the side of the bridge and hung onto odd stones that stuck out. Carefully rising just enough to see onto the bridge, I saw four fel orc sentries still guarding the end of the bridge. Two on either end of the large doors just a few meters off the bridge, one paced in front of them, and the last stood near the edge opposite me looking towards the bridge’s far side. Their tusks, massive even for orcs, jutted out grotesquely aiding to their already formidable appearance. They carried an assortment of axes and swords, the ones by the door held shields as well.

An almost shining hand, easily standing out in such a dark surrounding, rose up behind him; slowly felt around, and then found its mark. The pacing guard called out to his comrade, but was too late. The edge dwelling sentry was pulled back and fell screaming into the river. Quicker than one would think plate would allow, Arreth leapt onto the bridge swiping the air with her pole-axe. I pulled myself up onto the bridge as the remaining orcs charged Arreth. The ‘pacer’ met a similar end to his friend as he fell over the edge of the bridge when Arreth side stepped his axe narrowly passing over her head.

The two remaining door guards slowed their charges weary of making the same mistake. Still overlooked, I charged the nearer orc and swung my hammer at his midsection. He parried too late, my hammer crashing into his hand. The hilt of his sword broke away from the blade and his arm twisted unnaturally with a loud crunching noise. The other remaining orc leapt in the air bringing his sword down on me, I rolled barely dodging in time. He lunged again, taking the offensive, but quickly regretted his choice as Arreth’s pole-axe pierced his side and exited out the side of his neck. Spitting blood and curses the orc fell impaled on her weapon.

Despite his injury the orc I first took a throwing axe from his waist and hurled it at me. His aim was off, possibly he was forced to use his offhand, and it struck my shoulder and was deflected by my shoulder guard. It struck hard though, and I knew I’d be bruised later as well as having yet another noticeable scratch on my armor. She slid the dead orc off her weapon with her foot, unintentionally opening the wound to half the length of the orc’s torso and turned to face me.

“Go, quickly and plant it. I will guard the gate in case they return ahead of time.”

“I go with all due haste, Rexi.”

Together we pulled back one of the two massive doors enough for her to pass through, and she slipped inside. I turned around to act as the new sentry, sweat pouring down my face and even into my eyes. I kept my hammer at the ready and watched the other side of the bridge for the returning orcs.

Hurry,wench, we have no idea how long they’ll be fooled.

[Makorr]

The Light shines brightest in the darkest of places. The Light shines brightest in the darkest of places. The Light shines brightest in the darkest of places. The Light shines brightest in the darkest of places. The Light shines brightest in the darkest of places.

This is going to work.

My eyes stung from my own sweat, but I didn’t for a second take my eyes off the far side of the bridge or dare to even blink. Seconds passed like minutes and minutes passed like hours. I cannot tell you how much time passed, but I can tell you it felt like days.

I could hear fighting, not behind me, but above me in the upper Deathforge. I began to worry, worry more anyway, and wondered if something had gone wrong. The ground shook and I lost my balance momentarily as I heard explosions coming from the upper Deathforge. Suddenly, the fighting died and there was silence save for the river and failing debris. The dwarves couldn’t possibly be winning the engagement; they simply didn’t have the numbers. I knew it could not have been Arreth’s doing, or I would be dead, so I was left to wonder and wait.

The Light shines brightest in the darkest of places.

The door behind me creaked loudly, though still barely audible over the environmental noise, I spun around hoping to face Arreth. I didn’t loosen my grip or break my stance though; I knew it was fate, not hope, carved into me. And as fate would have it, three gan’arg engineers walked through it. Smart and fast-thinking creatures, they re-acted before I could strike. The one furthest in the back immediately ran back the way he came and the closest one grabbed some kind of device strapped to his belt, which began to glow a fiery green once he touched it. He threw it at me with precision; it came directly towards my midsection with alarming speed. I swung to bat it away, hitting it with the head of my hammer, and it flew towards the gan’arg behind him.

It latched onto his chest, burning even brighter and releasing a thick charred smell. He scrambled to pull it off and throw it away, but as he pulled his arm back for the throw he was engulfed in flames. The flames burnt quickly spurred on by demonic magic, within moments there was nothing left but ash. It had burnt so bright I saw dots for a moment, and didn’t see the ‘wannabe grenadier’ come at me with his blacksmithing hammer. He hit me hard in the stomach, knocking the air out of me. I stumbled back a step, but held the grip on my hammer. I swung sideways, which was a mistake because he simply ducked slightly and it went over his head.

His diminutive size aided him in this case. He struck the side of my left leg, and pulled back high to bring his hammer down onto my head. I let go of my war hammer with my right hand and grabbed onto his dropping fist. I struggled with him to keep the hammer up, and tried to swing my hammer at him with my left arm, but he pushed it down with his foot and pinned down my hammer by its head. Letting go of it I brought my left fist up into his face and tore his hammer from his grip with my other hand. I pushed him backwards and he tripped; his other hand went for something at his belt, but I threw his hammer and it hit him squarely on the knuckles no doubt breaking the joints to a few fingers. I took my own hammer from the floor and brought it down on him as he tried to rise, crushing his skull.

I turned and looked across the bridge towards the far side entrance, and saw a fel orc coming into view carrying a crate which obstructed his view. I was lucky, and he probably wouldn’t see me until it was too late. I decided it was more important to go after the fleeing gan’arg than to deal with the slowly incoming orc, who could have been a peon for all I knew.

I pulled open the door and passed through only to find that my prey was already dead. He laid on the floor just a few feet from the doors his body gored and bleeding as if some huge claw had just opened him up. A single massive slash appeared to have taken the flesh from his face all the way down to his waist. Over him stood an orc, but not an orc who called the Deathforge home; he was a very different kind of orc.

He wore astonishing armor which seemed to be made of the elements themselves. It was difficult to discern what exactly it was made from because it looked simply like swirling waters, clouds, and striking lightning bolts. His right forearm widened noticeably from the elbow down and where his gauntlet should have been sprouted a massive claw covered in blood; it looked like it would have been more at home on a bear, clearly it was what had done the damage to the small demon. From his shoulder guards sprouted lightning shaped spikes. His helm was as strange as the rest of his armor, from the bottom two long braids of hair hung down, tusks noticeably smaller than the tusks of fel orcs protruded out of the helm through a pair of holes, and a long slit revealed his eyes; eyes that glowed bright blue and seemed to stare into me, rather than at me.

Surprisingly, despite the appearance of his armor a tabard was comfortably covering his chest and proudly displaying the mark of the horde. A possible friend, it was lucky to find those in outland, let alone in the Deathforge. I spoke first.

“Throma gar gjrok.”

He arced his head back and a low thunder erupted from him. I raised my hammer, at first expecting an attack, only to realize he was laughing.

“Common speak I. Argent friend. Need leave now.”

It seems his common wasn’t much better than my orcish.

“Leave? No, I must wait for my companion. Who are you?”

“Time no. Need leave now.”

“I cannot – hey!”

He stopped listening to me mid speech, waving his gauntlet covered normal hand in dismissal and walked towards me unthreateningly. Still not having any true trust from me, I stepped aside and gave him a wide berth. He hastily walked through the door and left. A moment later I heard the scream of a fel orc peon falling to his fiery doom.

Better than another foe, I suppose. Praise the Light.

[Makorr]

I'm still working on changing it from script to story layout, but it'll be a bit of slow working to get it out. I've just got things to do, and in my free time I haven't felt in the mood for it recently.

The writing bug will bite me soon enough, it always does, but untill then, I want to ask, is anyone a little intrigued by the beginning? I LUVZ DA COMMENTS!

Good or bad, simple or complex, I would love to hear your thoughts. If you like it, show the support I need to keep writing, if its boring, tell me so I can fix it. If its just not enough story to form an opinion from (I realize I haven't posted much yet) then say so and I'll dish out more(eventually).