A strong wind blew through the jagged rocks of the Yarshar Mountains. Even in the peak of summer, the wind was still bitterly cold this far north. As the setting sun faded behind the peaks the soft orange glow of evening began to fade, the warmth that it had provided slipping away for the coming night. Varren crested a ridge on the southern slope, the entire range opening up before him. He smiled looking out into the valley as he pulled his cloak tighter to combat the cold. He loved being out on the road and views like this one were a great reason why. The large peaks stretched out as far as he could see while below him stretched a large valley. The last rays of sunlight making the lake glisten with rays of orange and yellow. Protected on all sides by sheer cliffs or steep trails, that promised a perilous journey even without the winter snow, it was relatively untouched land. It was a beautiful sight in an otherwise brutal and unforgiving landscape.

“Beautiful view isn’t it?” he said to his friend lumbering up the path behind him. Golroc stepped up to the ledge towering over his human companion as he merely grunted in reply. Varren smiled fully expecting the gruff response from his companion after traveling together for years.

“It’s just a valley, something we’ve seen a hundred times.” He finally grumbled disinterested. His focus on scanning the valley for any signs of trouble.

“You say that everywhere we go” Varren smirked. “One of these days I’m going to get you to lighten up and enjoy the road a little more.” He said with a smile but Golroc had already stopped listening.

“We should keep moving, more orcs will come with the setting sun. I’d prefer to get to their camp ‘fore they ambush us.” Golroc grumbled. Varren nodded his agreement turning to go back up the pass but stopped, taking a second to marvel silently at his friend. Golroc was a Terrigor, an ancient race made of rock rather than flesh, and other than a few scraps of leather for clothes and a pack Golroc looked like he was an extension of the cliff. As Golroc himself began to move, it seemed like the mountain itself was alive and shifting. “The location that old man gave ya is further in.” Golroc said as he started back up the pass, Varren falling in line next to him.

“So how many do you think there are?” Varren asked as they walked. The tail curving back into the mountains.

“No way of knowing can’t be too many or they’d have hired more.” Golroc said with a shrug. “ ‘Sides the more goblin heads to smash the better.” The stones that made up his mouth curling up in a wide grin as he looked down to Varren.

“Anxious for a fight? Thought that giant had crushed your spirit after it tossed you from the mountain.” Varren teased meeting his friend smile. Earlier that day the pair had disturbed the cave of a giant residing in the lower caves of the mountains. Enraged the giant had meant to crush him underneath the large boulder next to him only to discover, he had picked up Golroc. The giant, seeing the rock seemingly come alive kicking and cursing, hurled the mighty Terrigor through the air in surprise before the two drove it back into its cave. The incident had wounded the big one’s pride and he hadn’t spoken much since.

“It’ll take more than some blasted halfwit to stop me. Best keep that in your head or I’ll have to give you a toss to remind ya” Golroc growled glaring at Varren who merely chuckled, he knew his partner well enough to see through his mock anger. The pair continued through the pass, which was getting increasing difficult to transverse as their trail along the side grew increasingly narrower forcing Golroc to drop behind Varren. As they walked Varren’s mind began to drift to their current quest.

A few days ago while the pair was traveling through Stalrend, one of the last major towns this far north, an old man had stopped them on the street begging for their help. The pair had thought he was a simple beggar with his worn and tattered robes yet, he had assured them he needed their weapons not their gold. He claimed that he had discovered that a small band of orcs were preparing to come down from their home in the Yarshar Mountains, a very rare occurrence, to raid and pillage the villages further south. He offered a hefty amount of gold if they would travel north and remove the band before they were ready. Varren was more than happy to help if it kept villagers safe and Golroc, always ready to smash a few orcs, had agreed pointing out they were low on gold. The man had thanked them gave them the orcs location and hurried off, Ignoring their attempts to gather more information. At the time it had seemed fine, their concern of an orc raid washing away their questions about the strange meeting. Now deep in the mountains the orcs called home, Varren was beginning to worry there was more to this. I don’t even understand why he hired us. Surely he could have enlisted others....maybe even the city guard if his claim was true. How had he even discovered them…? Varren thought to himself looking up at the rocks wondering what hidden dangers lurked behind them.

“What is it? See something? ” Golroc asked quietly noticing the human distraction.

“No just starting to wonder if we made a mistake in coming here” Varren replied returning his focus to the trail.

“We can handle some orcs Varren.” Golroc stated confidently.

“It’s not the orcs I’m worried about. Something just doesn’t feel right” Varren mumbled back.

“You worry too much.” Golroc said though, in truth, Golroc had been thinking along the same lines earlier. He was confident though they could manage and if it did turn out to be a trap, well it wouldn’t be the first one they had face together.
*********

It took the pair another two hours to near their destination, the last rays of light long gone leaving only the pale moonlight to light their way. Their pace had slowed considerably forced to take it slow or plummet down the other side into the mountains darkest depths. The bitter cold had settled heavily over the mountains and though it didn’t affect Golroc, Varren had to keep his cloak pulled over his face to protect from the cold. Their narrow trail came to a dead end on top of a ledge high up a large gorge. A dim light from a fire barely visible from the edge prompted the two to crouch low, moving as silently as they could to the edge.

Just below them makeshift tents and huts stretched out over the cliff, scattered campfires littered the area between them. More than a dozen orcs, unaware of the two above, were just getting active with the arrival of night. Several were tearing into the raw meat of earlier hunts, while others hollered insults at each other as they downed some foul black liquid from crude bowls spilling it more on themselves then they drank.

The orc camp was blocked from three sides with the sheer cliff behind them, where the two were now located, and another to the left. Across from the pair was the gorged dropped again into a narrow ravine, too dark to even estimate its depths. Which left the only entrance seemingly to the right, where the ledge continued a bit before curving around a bend and heading back south, an observation which puzzled the pair. Why had they backtracked to camp here if they had already made it further south? Though their chosen location provided them an easily defensible area, this was the Yarshar Mountains, the brutal landscape was where the orcs thrived. What then was their need for caution? They got their answer a few moments later when a rather large orc began shouting out orders from the right.

Turning their attention back to the roaring orc, they noticed a network of small tunnels that they had missed on their first glance. The orcs hadn’t backtracked at all, they had made camp upon reaching the surface from their subterranean home. The two glanced at each other, silently communicating their thoughts with the quick look and subtle facial expressions after years of fighting together. Though the sight of the orc camp had extinguished their fears about the old man’s claim being a lie but, the tunnels only increased their worries.

The two had hoped the vile things had come further out in the open. Then they could strike at their targets quickly and as quietly as they could before any of the nearby monsters came in to assist. The presence of the tunnels, so near the intended battleground, made that increasingly difficult as tunnels in the mountains often became a labyrinth of interconnecting passages and dead ends. If a retreating orc made it to the tunnels during the fight they could lose him within giving him time to alert the horde beneath the mountain. The return journey would become a mad dash through a dangerous and rough terrain crawling with more than just orcs. They hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

The two watched them for a while, to make sure no more came out of the tunnels before they started the careful descend down. Luckily the ledge they were on wasn’t too far above the camp allowing them to get down behind one of the crude tents before any of them noticed.

“Give me a moment to take a few out before you come at them over there. I’ll cut off the tunnels and meet you in the middle” Varren whispered motioning for Golroc to come in from the right. Golroc nodded and headed off using the loud cries of the orcs to cover his heavy steps. Varren waited a few moments then drew his dirk from his belt and peered around the tent to where two orcs had their back to him, grumbling to each other as they ate. He crept forward slowly taking a quick glance to make sure none of the other orcs were paying attention to these two. It was time to get to work.

In one quick moment, Varren lunged forward covering the mouth of the one on the right as his dirk cut a thin line on the monster throat. The other orc reached for its weapon a call to arm on his lips. He never got the chance. Letting his first victim fall Varren spun towards the sinking his blade into the orc’s throat. The creature gurgled, trying desperately to cry out, as it reached for its throat in a desperate attempt to save itself. Varren yanked the blade for an instant before, burying it in the orc’s chest, ending its misery. Varren quickly dragged the bodies back out of the campfires light.

Another moment later he spotted his next targets. Near the entrance to the tunnels, two orcs were on the verge of blows, snarling and shoving each other as Varren got closer. He pulled out a smaller dagger from his boot, waited for the one closest to him to move, and let the dagger fly. The dagger cut silently through the air impacting just as the other orc shoved him. The dimwitted orc roared mistaking the orc in front of him as the one who struck him. He drew his weapon and slashed a gash across the belly of the orc in front of him. Howling in pain, it crumpled forward revealing Varren charging up behind it. The remaining orc, sword in hand, was caught off guard and his response was too slow. Two quick stabs of Varren dirk silenced the monster forever. A loud roar echoed throughout the camp followed by several large thuds. Varren smiled knowing full well what that meant. Golroc had begun his charge.
*********
Once out of the camp Golroc had hung close to the rock wall wanting to get some distance for his charge. About thirty feet out he stepped out onto the wider edge looking back at the orc camp as he pulled out his maul. The orcs, never expecting anything to approach them within their mountain, were unaware of his presence. Confident that Varren had already begun his bloody work, the mighty Terrigor charged forward. Like a roaring avalanche, he came in  shaking the mountains with the echoing of his cry and the heavy thuds of his stone feet. The orc nearest to the camp’s outskirts scrambled to get clear of the charge, tripped and tumbled over the ground. Golroc didn’t even slow, stomping over the unfortunate creature and crushing it beneath. The commotion had gathered the attention of the rest of the band who were no drawing their weapons to meet the intruder. A few fired arrows in a poor attempt to slow his charge but, the crude tips bounced harmlessly off the hardened skin of a Terrigor. Golroc kept coming meeting the orcs charge head on. With a wide might swipe he slammed his maul into the first. The impact lifted it up off its feet, crushing its ribs, before sending it hurtling into another. The scrape of metal on rock told him another orc was on his left. Enraged he punched out to his left, hitting the monster square in the face. He smiled at the sound of its skull-crushing under the weight of his punch. He then turned his attention to the rest of the orcs, including the one getting back to its feet, who were now very wary of their huge opponent.
*********
On the other side of the campsite Varren used the commotion to dispatch another orc. Unfortunately, he had been spotted in the act by another orc. The orc now charged him slashing wildly and sending him on the defense. Their blades clashed with a ring of steel, the orcs yellowed teeth snapping angrily at Varren’s face. Varren brought his knee up into the orc’s groan causing it to stumble back as Varren Lunged forward with his dirk. The blow only increased the monster fury though and it charged in fast knocking Varren stab wide and slashing back across. Varren jumped back quickly just enough to avoid being gutted but, not enough to dodge it completely. The blade ripped through his cloak and bite sharply into his side. The orc howled at the sight of human blood came on with renewed ferocity. Ignoring the slight pain in his side Varren kept the orc’s swipes at bay as he tried to find a way to turn the tables. The heat of a heat on his back gave him an idea. He sidestepped his opponent’s next blow and kicked out at the campfire. A shower of sparks and sand filled the air momentarily blinding the orc. The orc recovered quickly though and came back him angrily before Varren could strike back. Just as Varren had predicted. He brought his dirk up catching the orcs sword and hooking the two weapons together. The move brought the two dangerously close and Varren could smell the foul breath of his enemy as the orc struggled to pull his blade free. Then the orcs eyes went wide in disbelief. It looked down and saw that Varren’s free hand had plunged a dagger, which he had drawn while the orc had been blind, into its heart. Its arms fell limp dropping its sword and slumping to the ground. Varren was already moving, his dagger retrieved, to block any escape from Golroc continued the assault.
*********

The orcs had slowed their charge spreading out in an attempt to overwhelm Golroc with their numbers. They had no idea they had already lost nine, more the half their number, between the two. Golroc caught a spear as it stabbed from his left and jerked up into the air, bringing its wielder with it. A swift backswing from a maul ended the dangling orc’s life. Two more orcs came at him together in a mad frenzy of blows. Their attacks chipping away at the harden rock of Golroc’s skin. With an angry growl he charged back at his attacker, ignoring the many hits he received, lifted one up and slammed him into the other as a makeshift club. Dazed the two fell together in a heap before the roaring Terrigor. Golroc maul slammed down hard on the helpless orcs again and again. The mountains shook violently with each every slam to the ground.
*********
The sight of Golroc crushing their comrades, with showing no signs of slowing, took the fight out of the remaining orcs. The five orcs that remained were now scrambling to put distance between them and the towering invader. Their mad dash leading them right to where Varren was waiting. Hidden behind one of the tents he had taken down three of the monsters without them even being able to raise their weapons. He wasn’t so lucky with the last two. The sight of a lone human, a much easier kill, had breathed new courage into them. Varren was barely able to keep the two at bay. It was all he could do to keep his two blades moving to block and parry anything that came in. Still, Varren, though skilled, was not a master swordsman. More than a few times he grimaced as a minor cut slipped through his defenses. He knew Golroc would soon be there to assist but was running out of time. Every exchange brought him closer and closer to the edge. With no room to maneuver he’d make easy prey for the two orcs. With no other option he had no choice but to fall back to his last resort. His magic.

Varren retreated back from the orc assault he called for the weak magical energy within himself. He could feel the familiar tug of power rising up inside him even as he kept his blades going. A small crackle of arcane energy coursed around his fingertips. He took a step back, his heel now on the ledge, and raised his hand as the spell formed. He directed it towards the orcs and fired. Bright blue energy arched out of his fingertips then faded and disappeared. The spell, his last resort, had failed. Varren was out of options.
*********

Golroc had seen the trouble his friend was in the moment the two orcs had begun their assault. He had just started another charge when a heavy form barreled into him from behind. A worg, that had been resting unseen within one of the tents, had flanked behind Golroc during the battle. Now its large claws dug into the cracks between the rocks that made up Golroc’s body. The beast snarled its claws raking across his back, its maw snapping at Golroc neck. The added weight crashing into him knocked Golroc off balance sending him stumbling forward. Unable to stop his heavy fall he dropped his maul reached back with both hands and got a firm grip into its fur. Together they crashed into the ground in a tangled mess of limbs, rock and fur. The heavy impacted caused shook the cliff again. The vibrations dropping loose rocks fall and causing cracks to form all over the gorge. Including, the ledge Varren was trapped on.
*********
Varren heard the rumble of  the mountain around him, though he had no idea to the cause, and the cracking of stone around him but there was nothing he could do. The orc’s hadn’t even seemed to notice the peril they all faced and kept up their attack. The ledge shuddered violently beneath the three combatants as it began to break away from the rest of the cliff, sliding slightly down. Finally seeing the danger, the two orcs tried to flee back to the other side of the widening gap but it was too late. The cracked ledge broke away tossing its occupants into the dark depths below as it crumbled. Varren lost his grip on his weapons as he flipped end over end. Desperately, he searched for some way to slow his fall but he was too far from either side to grasp on to anything and he was beginning to fall too quickly. On instinct, his hands began to move frantically as he fell. There was no choice this time...his magic had to work.

*********
As soon as the two hit the ground Golroc kicked, punched and head-butted any part of the snarling beast that he could. Finally, with a pained whimper, the worg jumped away. It turned back to him slowly baring its teeth as its back legs tensed for another pounce. Golroc, still on the ground, wasn’t even looking at it. The sound of crumbling rock stole his attention, reminding him of his friend peril. He looked back just in time to watch as Varren’s ledge fell away taking Varren, his only friend and family, along with it. With a roar, his hands grasped around his fallen maul just as the worg launched itself into the air. The enraged Terrigor swing intercepted the flying canine in midair crushing its body and redirecting it to crash into a nearby tent.

Golroc was already moving as his strike impacted rushing to the edge where his friend had fallen. He knew it was dangerous, that the ledge might be too weak to hold his heavy from but he didn’t care. The two had been together ever since Varren had risked his life to free him from his life of slavery. Now he was gone and it was all his fault. It was his fault the ledge had fallen. His carelessness that had shaken the mountain. He stared into the pit for a few, the sight replaying again his mind, before jumping to his feet suddenly, one image locked within his mind.

Varren had started casting. Varren’s hands had shot up in panic but right as he went over they had twisted and had begun to turn. Golroc knew that motion all too well had seen it countless times. It was the start of a spell and there was still more that fueled his hope. With the image locked within his mind as if he could still see it before him Golroc noticed a soft purple glow in his friend’s eye. That meant only one thing, Varren’s magic had surfaced.

There was still hope, a slim one where Varren and magic were concerned, but hope nonetheless. He just needed to get down there! His first thought was to just jump down and hope it wasn’t as deep as it seemed but, he pushed the thought away. Varren might have been able to slow his fall but Golroc wouldn’t be able to. As much as he wanted to rejoin his friend he’d be no use as a pile of broken rubble. Golroc turned back to the tunnels with a determined look. This side of  the gorge was too dangerous to climb down with his weight. At any time a handhold, weakened by the rockslide, could give way. The tunnels were his only way. He didn’t like the prospect of heading down alone to a possible maze of tunnel probably crawling with orcs yet, there was no way he was going to leave.

“Hang on Varren….” He mumbled to himself. With one last look back into the gorge he started forward into the tunnels.
*********

Varren woke two hours later to the crackle of small fire to his left. His head felt like it was on fire and his entire body ached. He opened his eyes to find the bright emerald green eyes of a young woman staring back at him.

“Easy I’m not done yet.” She said softly.

“Where’s Golroc? “ Varren groaned.

“I found only you” She said her gaze falling down away from his.

“That means he’s still up there I have to get up there.” He said the thought of his friend fighting alone bringing new urgency to his voice. He groaned again from the pain as he tried to rise.

“You’ll be no help to him or anyone else in this condition” She said stopping him and easing him back down ”Now sit still and let me finish or you’ll reopen the wound.” She said sharply. Only then did Varren follow her gaze down to his side. She had pulled up the tore pieces of his clothes and was treating a rather nasty cut he had gotten on his hip. With the adrenaline from the fight and his fall Varren had completely forgotten about the injury the orc had given him. She was right as much as he wanted to rush to Golroc’s side with his side bleeding like this he’d be only a hinderance. He’d have to trust Golroc could handle himself for now.

“Who...are you?” Varren asked bringing his attention back to her.

“My names Shaira and you are?” She said her voice growing soft and soothing again as she work.

“ Varren ...What are you doing here?” He asked studying the young women knelt next to him. She was human with short brown hair and by the look of her, including her worn and dirty clothes, she had the look of a fit young woman who had spent a lot of time on the road. Yet Varren saw no weapon near her nor any sign of any armor, something unheard of in the brutal Yarshar Mountains of the north. Yet she carried with her only a small opened pack next to her and a staff that lay next to her.

“Exploring this place” she answered never taking her eyes off the wound but gestured to the room behind her. Varren slowly leaned up to look over her shoulder for a better look. He wasn’t in the gorge, as he had first assumed, but a stone room that had been carved out of the rock with intricate designs written along the walls.

“What is this place?” He asked still looking about the room.

“An ancient temple of Sudariel, the goddess of light.” She said pulling bandages out of her bag. “I found you and brought you here after your fall. Don’t know how you managed to survive the fall but, judging by the welt on the back of your head I’m assuming you hit your head on the way down and lost consciousness. ” She continued guessing his next questions. She motioned for him to sit up slowly, an act which caused Varren to wince in pain, and started wrapping the bandages around his injured hip.

“It was my magic that saved me” Varren mumbled more to himself then to her, thinking back on his desperate attempt to save himself. His slowing spell had worked. Yet, despite his relief at its success, he knew it had been more luck than any actual skill.

“You have magic? Why didn’t you use it sooner?” Shaira asked.

“I did but it’s not very reliable. I’m actually surprised it work, it failed during the fight.” Varren admitted watching her work.

“Why, are you new at it?” She said glancing up at him.

“No I’ve had it since I was child just ever been able to get control of it usually fails or behaves erratically.” Varren replied.

“I see” She said said her gaze holding his for a moment though she seemed to be staring past him, lost in thought before going back to her work. Varren gave her a curious look but remained quiet letting her work.

“There you’re all set. Try and walk around a bit but try not to move too quickly” Shaira said suddenly said standing up.

“Thanks” Varren said as he slowly got up to his feet. His muscles were on fire as he rose and took a few tentative steps forward. He still felt the sharp pain in his side but it was starting to subside and with every step it got easier to walk the pain ebbing away to a dull ache. He then turned back to her studying her again. “What brought you all the way up here?” he finally asked while she put out the fire.

“I told you.” she said not even bothering to look back.

“You told me you came to explore this temple yeah but why? This area is dangerous to travel alone and you don’t strike me as a normal scholar wanting to just take a look around.” Varren asked curiously.

“What makes you say that?” Shaira chuckled.

“Just a guess” Varren admitted with a shrug. “But you didn’t answer my question” Varren pressed more sharply than he intended. He was entirely grateful she was here and had taken care of his wounds but, he couldn’t help but wonder why she came here in the first place.

Varren watched her as she slowly turned back to look at him. Up until now she had been calm and had seemed so sure of herself but, now she seemed flustered. She seemed to be waging some internal debate not sure quite what to say. Occasionally, she’d take a deep breath and open her mouth to speak but would then shake her head and stop herself again. Finally she looked up at him, a calm look back upon her face, and reached into her robes. On instinct Varren tensed, expecting a weapon, before reminding himself if she had wanted to harm him she could’ve already.

“I came… for this…” Shaira breathed. From the folds of her robes she pulled a small yellow orb which pulsed with energy in her hands. Varren’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at it orb which seemed to radiate pure sunlight. For reasons unknown to him he stepped forward slowly with his hand reaching out for it. He could feel its warmth as his fingers drew in close. “And apparently…”She looked up at him as she started speaking again. “For you...” She whispered as his hand ran over the glowing orb.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2