"I know you THINK you want this fight. Trust me, you don't..."
“It was always going to end this way, down here in the filth and dirt” the Half-Orc mused. He had grown accustomed to violence and bloodshed since his youth, and Gruumsh knew that he had seen more than his fair share. He often wondered how he’d meet his end, and sometimes he had even wished it WOULD end.
That was before he had met them though. His brothers and sisters. His family. The 4 teenagers he had befriended had given him something to care and fight for. Simi, Asper, Denna and Callista had been at his side through his greatest triumphs and worst defeats.
The roof of the cave started to buckle overhead with the stress of the concusive blast that had weakened it’s supports.
“Too slow Qog, too damn slow” he thought, as the Gith’s blade darted past his defence and bit into his side, leaving a nasty gash in his already battered armour. He was going to fall under this bastard’s blade, that much he knew. This Gith…THING was too fast for him, and as tough as the Half-Orc was, blood loss would decide this fight before he could mount a strong offense.
Not that it mattered anymore, his fate was sealed as soon as their ambush had been sprung. All that mattered was that the others made it out safely and warned the village about what was coming. About the green welcome. Maybe if he dropped his guard, the Gith would waste it’s time fighting him. Give his friends time to escape. That could work. Maybe.
His prized greatsword crumbled under the Gith’s offense and he knew the fight was over. As he resigned himself to his fate, his Orcish ward, Skorne, swept past him and barreled Asper towards the rapidly crumbling exit and into safety. The half orc’s mouth curled into a smile as he saw the last of his friends escape, the tunnel collapsing behind them.
“Alright you bastard…” Qog spat as he threw his splintered sword to the ground and outstretched his arms “…finish this”. The exit was now completely barred by earth and rubble, his dark vision struggled to compensate for the lack of light.
The other Gith conversed with their leader in an alien dialect, as he regarded the Half-Orc with silent detachment. Like a spider might regard a fly caught in its web. Slowly, it stalked toward the barbarian with it’s sword held aloft.
For an eternity, the two warriors stared at one another in the darkness. At last, the Gith leader seemed to grow bored, and swung the sword one last time.
Qog, The Barbarian. The Bridgemaker, offered one last prayer to Gruumsh to allow his friends the chance to deliver great evil on their enemies, before the silver blade bit into his neck.
“It was always going to end this way” he thought as his sight faded “down here in the filth and the dirt”