The Gate - A New Breed of Orc (The Gate Series Book 1) Read online

  The Gate

  A New Breed of Orc

  Book One of the Gate Series

  B.N. Crandell

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright ©2013 B.N. Crandell

  www.bncrandell.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 9781311722539

  Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

  Acknowledgments

  Editing: Serena Tatti Editing Services, Story-editor.com

  Cover Art: Rachel Martin and Natalee Ruddick

  Cover Design & Layout: Nilantha Rathnayaka

  Also thanks to my wife Desiree Crandell and Michael McDougal for proofreading and suggestions.

  Table of Contents

  Arrival

  Revenge

  Retreat

  Captives

  Fort Lowmount

  Battle

  A Second Charge

  Final Stand

  A World Away

  A Dwarven March

  Defence Preparations

  A City Under Siege

  Desperate Measures

  The Clean Up

  Chapter 1

  Arrival

  Trent Gullansworth swung down hard with his long wooden training sword. Vik Etkins managed to get his sword in place, just in time.

  "Stop," said Vik to Trent as he took a step back from his friend. "Are you mad? If I hadn't blocked that strike you would have knocked me out cold or even killed me."

  "Just as well that you blocked it then, wasn't it Vik?"

  "I thought we were just practising here."

  "Well I'd say it's good practice blocking a killing blow wouldn't you?"

  The two boys had grown up on neighbouring farms and had been best mates their entire life.

  While Trent was one year older than Vik, they were similar height and similar build. Trent was an averaged size fourteen-year-old but Vik was well above average for his age. Everyone had only to look at his father to understand where he got his size from.

  At seven inches over six feet tall, Gerard was noticed everywhere he went, and any who didn't know of his gentle nature, took a wide berth around him.

  After serving ten years in the Arthean army, Gerard settled down on a farm, got married and had two kids, Vik and his sister Marley, who was two years younger. Trent and Vik often came to Stonecutters View, so named by the boys because of the magnificent view of Stonecutters Defile to the west, a maze of huge jagged rocks that looked to be thrown about the area by a large giant or two.

  Stonecutters View was a small plateau high in the hills about three miles walk south of Vik's farmhouse. The plateau was surrounded by an arena of large granite rocks with a sheer cliff dropping off on the south-western side. Aside from the view of the rocks to the west, on a clear day it was possible to see all the way to Arthea.

  It was their private sanctuary that, as far as they could tell, no one else knew existed.

  "You could have made the move a little less aggressively couldn't you?" said Vik as he walked over to his backpack.

  "Do you think an enemy will take it easy on you Vik?"

  "But you're not an enemy. This is practice."

  "Ahh, I knew you'd be able to block my attack. Your sword skills are improving lots lately. Soon you might actually be able to beat me."

  "I look forward to repaying you fully for all the bruises you've given me over the years. Let's have a rest for a bit before we head back home."

  The boys had left early in the morning to make the trek up to Stone-cutters View and wasted the day away exploring and playing about. The storm from the night before had passed over, leaving them with a hot, steamy summer's day for their expedition.

  The saturated ground had made some parts of the climb up the small mountain a little tricky, but they had climbed it so often over the years that it didn't trouble them too much. The small mountain range was riddled with tunnels that were once occupied by orc tribes. Collapsed caves and overgrowth blocked most of the entrances these days, but the boys still knew of a few that went a long way back into the mountains. They vowed that one day they would search them thoroughly.

  "I wish our parents would let us camp up here someday," said Trent as he sat down dangling his legs over the edge of the cliff.

  Vik sat down next to him and grabbed out two apples from his pack. Throwing one to Trent, he said, "Yeah that'd be great. But with the recent orc raids, I think it will be some time before they let us do that."

  "But the orcs live in the Ki'hara mountains, they have never been seen this far north."

  "You don't have to convince me Trent. It's our parents, well our mothers at least, that need convincing."

  "Yeah I know. It's just so frustrating. In two years' time I'll be old enough to enlist in the army in Arthea, but my parents still treat me like a kid."

  "I know how you feel. It's hard enough for me to convince my parents to come here for a full day. And I've got three years til I enlist."

  The boys sat quietly for a while lost in their own thoughts enjoying the serenity of their surroundings. The lands around Arthea were harsh and untamed as it was the southernmost border of the kingdom of Lertia. Arthea itself was a town surrounded by high walls as it was constantly under threat by the orcs. Most of the farmlands were situated to the northeast of the town which were protected from regular patrols from the Arthean army. Every male would be forced to enlist in the Arthean army on his sixteenth birthday for a minimum of two years. This was to ensure that every male along the southern border knew how to fight in case the orcs became overly bold.

  Part of their training in the army was basic knowledge in all the trades; so that once the boys were free to leave the army they would be better able to choose a trade for themselves.

  "Well, we better be off then. The sun isn't gettin' any younger."

  "All right," agreed Vik, "you stayin' for dinner before you head off home?"

  "Yeah, I told my folks not to set a place for me. They have come to expect that when we come up here—too easy to lose track of time."

  Vik didn't reply but instead looked off into the distance, wearing a curious expression. Trent started to ask what he was looking at until he noticed the same thing.

  "What's that?" asked Trent

  "I have no idea, but it's coming from Bilwarks Grove. It looks like some sort of magical light," replied Vik

  "Maybe another of Master Pilks magical experiments?" asked Trent, not himself convinced it was.

  "Too far out of Arthea for that."

  "Maybe a really dangerous experiment, that he didn't want to risk blowing up all of Arthea with?" he said with a chuckle.

  "No, this has nothing to do with Master Pilk. He would have come by our house to let us know about it if it was. I think we should have a closer look."

  "It's already late in the afternoon Vik. Bilwarks Grove is at least an hour out of our way."

  "Then we best hurry, ay? C'mon Trent, where's your sense of adventure?"

  "Ok fine, but if I miss out on dinner because of you, I won't take it so easy on you with our next practice session."

  "Easy? You call almost knocking me out cold, easy? C'mon let's make tracks."

  The boys set off at a brisk pace. They knew every square inch of this place, so they cove
red a long distance in a fairly short amount of time, despite the ground still being a little soft underfoot. When they came to the first row of birch trees which densely covered the grove named after Bilwark Brown, a quirky rich young merchant who reportedly planted and nurtured this grove in the early years of Arthea's founding, the boys stopped, unsure if they should continue on.

  They were now certain that the light was magical, as they had seen similar light from some of Master Pilk's spells, but never had they seen one so bright and continuous that could be seen from such a vast distance. The light would change hue from the lightest to the deepest purple, with the occasional brilliant flash of white within. They were perhaps about a mile away from the source of the light and yet could hear a faint hum and the occasional crack of an energy burst following the flash of the white light.

  "All right then, we didn't come all this way to discover nothing, so let's keep going."

  "Trent the fearless, ay?" mocked Vik. The boys tentatively made their way through the trees remaining as quiet as they could. The deeper into the grove they got, the louder the noise became. In a small clearing, littered with small dark rocks and the occasional larger boulder, they came into view of the light source.

  "What on Ka'ton is that?" asked Vik.

  "I have no idea, but I don't think it's wise to hang around here to find out. It doesn't look friendly."

  As the boys started to walk away, the noise died down and the flashing white light ceased, leaving behind just a large, purple glowing magical field.

  The boys looked at each other briefly and came to a silent agreement. Simultaneously they sprinted to the closest cover they could find, which was a bunch of dense low lying bushes. They both dived in, ignoring the scratches they received for doing so, then laid there perfectly quiet. For many long moments the boys watched this strange phenomenon, as it continued its hypnotic swirling. Vik was just about to suggest to Trent that they leave when something stepped out of the magically formed phenomenon which made Vik's heart stutter.

  * * *

  "Report Biv'rak"

  "All goes well, oh fierce one. The shamans have begun to forge the magical gate. It should only take about an hour to complete," said Biv'rak with his eyes respectfully lowered before the mighty leader of the orc clan.

  "Do they yet know where the other end of the gate will form?"

  "Given the magical energy the thirty-two shaman are putting into it, Great Shaman O'tukka is confident that the gates exit has formed on another world. Which we shall find out in a very short while, oh fierce one."

  "Is the scout group ready?"

  "They are ready and waiting, oh fierce one. They will enter the magical gate as soon as Great Shaman O'tukka gives them clearance to do so."

  "You will inform me immediately after the gate is completed Biv'rak. I want to be there before the first orc sets foot in that gate."

  "Of course, oh fierce one."

  "Will the gate be large enough to send through an ogre?"

  "Great Shaman O'tukka informs me that the gate will be a good head taller than the tallest ogre and wide enough for two ogres to walk abreast through it, oh fierce one."

  "Good, very good. Once the immediate area has been scouted and cleared I want the first company of orcs and a group of five ogres through preparing a forward base."

  "Very good, oh fierce one. I will go and inform the general as soon as I am dismissed."

  "Then consider yourself dismissed, Biv'rak"

  "Thank you, oh fierce one," Biv'rak said, bowing his head and backing away from the fierce one; a few steps before the door to the fierce one's command room, he turned and scurried off to find the general.

  Soon I will have access to another world, thought Gilkan.

  Since becoming the fierce one two short years before, defeating his own father in mortal combat, Gilkan had seen his borders constantly reduce as the Orcs of the Red Axe continued mounting attacks in staggering numbers along his northern border. My father was weak. How did he allow our tribe to fall to such a low state?

  But with access to another world, perhaps I can find an advantage against our enemies, and once again expand our borders. Or if not, at least we will have a place to retreat to. I hope that it doesn't come to that, or I might find myself defeated in mortal combat in very short order. No, I won't let that happen.

  He quickly lost track of the time as he continued to think about all the possibilities this new world might bring to the fore. A knock at the door interrupted his musings and as Biv'rak entered he knew the time had come.

  "Report Biv'rak," said Gilkan, knowing that Biv'rak would not speak until given permission to do so.

  "The magic gate will be ready in a few moments oh fierce one. The final magical stitches are being completed as we speak. It will be fully complete by the time you arrive, oh fierce one."

  "You have exceeded yourself Biv'rak. Beheading your foolish brother and replacing him with you turned out to be a very wise move on my behalf."

  "Your praise is overwhelming, oh fierce one"

  "Just don't let it go to your head, you know how easy that is to lose," said Gilkan heading for the door.

  "I do, oh fierce one."

  Gilkan hurried off in the direction of the magic gate. It was located a short walk from the eastern gate of the orc city of Gnash in a large rocky canyon. Surrounded by his entourage of guards, and with Biv'rak trailing two paces behind, Gilkan strutted proudly through the wide city streets, barely noticing the many orcish eyes upon him from those going about their daily business.

  The guards at the eastern gate noticed his approach from a long way off. The large orc with a full length brown robe and heavy black coat with gold braiding was hard to mistake, especially with his long braided hair on his head as well as his beard, and wearing a golden headpiece imbedded with jewels. They briskly stepped aside allowing him an undisturbed passage through.

  As he got closer, they stiffened to attention and made sure not to make eye contact with him. Two hundred paces outside the city walls, the road split into two, one curving off to the south, while the other veered to the north.

  The orcs took the southern road leading off into a great canyon.

  As they continued along, the road got rougher and narrower as it wound its way steadily down into the depths of the canyon.

  Ki'rak Arkish Goul'kir, translated to Black Rock Canyon, was a large canyon which formed the southern border of the Black Skull tribe's lands, acting as a natural defence against the orcs of the Jagged Spear who dwelt on the opposite side.

  The canyon continued on as the southern border of the Ta'zu, the nasty orc tribe to the west of the Black Skull and almost met the great black sea the orcs called Zillith Ki'rak Tarecz, which literally meant Great Black Sea, to the east.

  The canyon remained largely made up of dense black rock, as black as obsidian but not shiny. Half way down into the canyon they came across a rocky plateau where the road seemed to end. Cracks in the canyons walls went off in all directions and, without hesitation, Gilkan marched off in the direction of the left most crack. Making his way through a maze of the black rock, Gilkan and his entourage came to a dead end where the magic gate glowed eerily. The dead end opened up into a large arena surrounded by the high stone walls of the canyon.

  This hidden location was chosen specifically for the magical gate construction. The area now crowded with hundreds of orcs camped around the gate.

  At the sight of the fierce one's confident approach, the orcs quickly parted, allowing him to continue his march without breaking stride.

  Surrounding the gate the thirty-two shamans continued their work by incanting and dancing around the gate. To one side stood the ten scouts, hand-picked for this special assignment. Standing on the other side, the company of one hundred orcs and a group of five ogres gathered, and at their head, General Krak'too.

  One of the smallest orcs of the Black Skull tribe was supervising the shaman. He dressed as an orc of rank and few could m
iss the obvious power of this one despite his smaller size. Wearing a full length red robe trimmed in gold and covered in black mystical patterns, few failed to recognise Great Shaman O'tukka and fewer still could look the great orc in the eye. His deadly black eyes were said to hold a constant spell of their own, forcing any but the strongest willed orcs to tremble at the knees.

  Fully adorned with fine jewellery, each no doubt holding great magic, Great Shaman O'tukka was the second most feared orc in the Black Skull tribe, the first being the towering orc marching toward the great shaman now.

  Not much shorter or broader than the smallest ogre, no orc was surprised that Gilkan defeated his father in mortal combat quicker than any such contest in orcish history. Some speculate that Gilkan had ogre blood flowing through his veins, but to speculate within earshot of Gilkan would mean a swift and brutal death. Ogres are a big and strong race, but have an intelligence not far exceeding that of a goblin. Intelligence is something Gilkan had an abundance of and it could be seen in his dark grey shining orbs.

  "Report O'tukka," said Gilkan while he was still a few strides from the shaman.

  No one but the fierce one could mention the great shaman's name without the honorific of great shaman preceding it and live to tell the tale.

  Even still, the shaman's eyes narrowed slightly at being addressed this way in front of so many orcs.

  "The gate will be finished momentarily my fierce one," said the great shaman in his shrill voice.

  "Very good. You," Gilkan pointed to one of the scouts, "approach at once." The scout took a few steps forward with his eyes lowered respectfully. "The moment you walk through the gate, I want you to take note of everything, and I mean everything you can in the immediate vicinity, then step back through the gate and at once report on what you have seen."

  "It would be an honour, oh fierce one." The noise of the forming gate died down and the bright flashes of light stopped and every orc in the vicinity looked on in stunned silence.

  "The gate is now complete, my fierce one. The scouts can enter at your command," said Great Shaman O'tukka.