Shog, called the Bonecrusher by his people, knew they’d lost when human horns roared across the battlefield. The Imperiate had come after all, to aid their elven allies of the Alish’tae Republic. Shog’s people, orcs of the Galak Tribe, so named after the mountain upon which they’d once lived, fought hard and well. But they fought alone.
Orcs no allies. Not even their Gods, the Old Ones, cared anymore.
As the morning sun crept above the clouds, illuminating the blood soaked fields, the Imperiate horsemen charged out from the forest. Muk’nola, matriarch of the Galaks, sounded her war horn, signalling the retreat. But it would be too late, Shog knew. Those horsemen would slaughter them as they fled. Their children, next.
An elf, empowered by the sense of looming victory, stormed forward from their line, straight towards Shog. He parried the elf’s longsword then heaved his mighty hammer, Breaker of Worlds, in a perfect arc. It smashed upon the elf’s helmeted skull, and he proved his namesake for the countless time. The elf’s head exploded in bone and carnage.
“Back!” he heard. “Fall back!” In disarray, the others around him fled towards Bloodneck Valley, where they’d encamped. Their position fell. Shog screamed to maintain the line but knew the day was lost. His people fled. He had no choice but to follow.
He reached the camp, already nearly moving again, fleeing up the valley to the highlands. Shog, exhausted, reached Zee-zee, his daughter, and Gheelah, his love. Gheelah had already packed their yurt and few remaining possessions. “Flee!” he shouted to her.
“And you?” Gheelah asked.
“I stay to hold them back.”
In typical orcish fashion, their utter devotion, love and mutual respect expressed itself only in their shared gaze, never in public, spoken word. He gripped her hand. He told Zee-zee to be strong. Gheelah nodded. Then the doy galloped away with the rest of the fleeing, broken host.
Muk-nola, matriarch, rallied the remaining Galak warriors. They reformed to a single line. Bloodneck Valley was narrow. Rocky. Layered with crimson colored clay. The land elevated as it led to the Highlands, their only advantage.
Maybe at the height of the tribe’s strength, before the humans had come with their purges and stolen their land, before the elves had arrived to ‘cleanse the world of evil’, maybe they would have been strong enough. But Shog saw they had a few hundred left. A few hundred to hold a line against an entire battalion of Imperiate horsemen and Alish’tae swordsmen, the latter no doubt already being reinforced.
The ‘Fair Folk’ would aim to eradicate the Galak now, as they fled.
Shog marched up to Muk-nola. She hailed him. “Yog-Sothoth burns in us,” she said.
“Yog-Sothoth hasn’t given a shit about us since Galak Mountain ceased its fire,” Shog replied.
Imperiate horns loomed. The sun flared, blinding Shog for a moment. Another disadvantage. The ground rumbled with the cavalry charge.
“Either way. I’ll crush his soul in hell. Right after I’m done with these Fair Folk.”
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"Brace yourself!" Shog shouted as they hefted shield and spears as the cavalry charged towards them.
The shock of the lance hitting his shield, numbed his arm. The swordsmen steadily advanced as the retreat of the horsemen were supported by those damn elvish archers.
They would attack again and again as they would try to hit their flanks and poke at their weak spots. Their shields grew heavy with arrows.
They all knew that there would be no surviving this battle but fight on they must. To give more time to the women and children to escape. To make their way and cross the bad lands where man nor elves hardly ventured.
It is Shog's hope that his family is able to escape and live.
"The left wing is faltering, Muk-nola is lost, trampled by the last charge." Broken Knee, a warg rider, tells him. "All is lost and we cannot stop them from reaching the clan!"
"Flee like the mangy dog you are Broken Knee! For I will stand before the host and will not let pass!" Shog shouted back. " Each inch they move will cost their blood!"
Each wave they sent, Shog pushed back as he sees more and more of warbound die around him.
He saw Drikdarok who taught him the spear take down two Imperiate horsemen but not seeing a third impale him a lance. He saw Kaghed a master of the orcish sword, cut down by the blade of a dozen Alish’tae swordsmen.
He saw Sombilge who taught the young warriors the way of the bow, peppered with arrows. Lastly he saw Sinsbog, his old master who taught him the axe and the hammer take a solid hit in the head before it was cleaved from behind by an axe-wielding human.
He saw the mightest of them lay bleeding, feeding the earth with their blood.
Each wave he tried to push back but inch by inch they were pushing them back until they were at the stone bridge that led towards the Galak mountains.
Here he would take his last stand. Their horse charges ineffective, the natural bridge wide enough to accommodate two orcs or four humans. A perfect place to die.
Shog banged on his shield with his warhammer and shouted " Come at me fools! I am Shog, The breaker of worlds! I will smite you with my hammer and cast off your bodies."
The humans foolishly sent a couple of their knights armed with shields and short swords but he batted them away.
The elves sent two moondancers with their two bladed swords that looked like cresent moons. He watched them gracefully twist and twirl their swords only to land ineffectively on his shield and bashing their legs and then their heads.
Spearmen attempted to stab him from afar only for him to grasp the wooden part and flung them over the bridge. Wave after wave they sent more men while shooting arrows from time to time.
Shog could feel his arms feel leaden as he could hardly lift hammer and shield. He knew that the end was near. His heart was beating so fast from all adrenaline coursing through his body and he could feel the life ebbing out from the cuts on his arms, his legs and the arrow wounds he received.
He has already fought past his threshold many times. He hoped that the survivors are safe. He looked at the stars noticing that he has fought for hours against impossible odds.
He smiled and clutched his heart. He was satisfied with it. Blood trickled from his mouth and he felt his heart beat slower and slower until it stopped.
There between the bridge of life and death of his clan, Shog, the breaker of worlds, breathed his last. He was a match for a thousand men and elves. Unbowed, Unbent and Undefeated Shog stood.
His defense for his clan would be told by men, elves and orcs. A testament to the indomitable of Shog, the breaker of worlds.
History is full of last stands against a huge host of enemies. Stories like the Spartans' Battle of Thermopylae, the Americans' Battle of Alamo, the Israelites Siege of Masada, and the English's Battle of Agincourt.
Our country, The Philippines, had the Battle of Tirad Pass where 60 Filipino soldiers fought against a better equipped and trained 300 American soldiers in order to delay the capture of the first Filipino President.
There is something about last stands that makes it very memorable to the consciousness of men. It is that bravery amidst impossible odds in order to protect their country, ideals and way of living.
Recently both videogames and stories have been moving away from the normal trope of Orcs being evil and only knows how to pillage and raid.
They often paint a better picture of Orc's life, culture and ideology and not just setting them as these dumb, warlike creatures.
They have their own stories, mannerisms and knowledge. Just because they look different that men and elves often see them as evil and violent.
The story blends many elements like Gandalf fighting off the Balrog, of the hot gates defense in the movie and graphic novel The 300 to Aragon and Gimli fighting off the Uruk Hai on a stone bridge to Helm's deep.
I know it is a bit hilarious that I used that imagery when they were fighting off the orcs and we now have it reversed in this story that it is the orcs who are the defenders.