Back to Back

Back to back. Tom and the old man. Hideous blue orcs circled them.

Orcs in Bern?! They had come a long way… From the deep underground mud…

“Okay kid… On go, we attack…” he said.

“On go?” Tom said.

“GO!” the old man yelled.

Blind bravery! They both ran at the orcs. Clashing blades. Tom faced two. Parrying. Ducking barely. Then he was kicked in the gut. Oof!

A heavy blade swung down on Tom. He brought his blade to block. CLANG!

Tom was pressured down. Heavy blade. The snarling grin and hot breath.

“You are dead, small man!”

Then the legs of the orc were sliced and stumped. The orc fell over flailing.

“Arghh!”

“Hey kid! Watcha doing on the ground? Sleeping on the job, eh?” the old man said.

“I’m not sleeping!” Tom said, panicked out of his mind. They were going to die!

“We need more guards… The two of us are outnumbered…” the old man said, “Hmm… Kid, run to the closest barracks… About 5000 paces away in the merchant district… I’ll hold them back, but not for long.”

The old man kicked an orc back.

“To be a Bern Guard is to put the lives of civilians above our own… And protect his royal highness’ back door… Got it?” He smiled.

“Y-Yeah,” Tom said. He hoped so.

“Good,” the old man smiled, then parried the rusty orc blade. CLANG!

“Now GO!!!!”

Tom belted down the road. Red and puffing.