The rough breathing sounds coming from beyond the bushes grew closer and closer. Along with the cracking of branches and the crunching of fallen leaves underfoot, figures began to emerge one by one from the darkness.
The marauders of the wasteland. Beings who lived by the cruel law where the strong dominate and the weak are trampled. Approaching Bardh and Dobeul were orcs.
The first orc to show itself limped forward with a severely hunched back. Its rough, grayish skin was layered with old scars etched all over its body, and its red eyes glared alternately at Dobeul and Bardh. Harsh breaths escaped from its broad, flat nose, and yellowish fangs protruded jaggedly from its gaping mouth.
Following behind, the second and third orcs appeared. These were much larger in build than the first. Their tawny skin was bristled with stiff black hair, and their yellow eyes gleamed eerily in the darkness.
"Damn..."
Bardh muttered, stepping back a pace. But from behind him, the presence of more orcs could be felt.
The orcs that continued to appear were different again from the previous ones. They were relatively lean but much taller, with skin tinged in black and crisscrossed with scars like a spider's web. A deep vertical gash scarred the left cheek, twisting grotesquely whenever it grinned, making the face even more hideous.
The orcs' attire was uniformly filthy. Plates reinforced with metal scraps, rusted chains, and rough, soiled leather patches clumsily covered their bodies. It was too crude to call armor, riddled with holes and tears in many places.
What caught the eye most were the things dangling from their waists. Large chunks of meat were tied with leather straps and swayed as they moved. The surfaces were still stained with dark, undried blood. A fishy, rotting stench emanated from the meat, and flies buzzed around it incessantly.
"Orcs..."
Dobeul muttered under his breath. Judging by the state of the meat chunks, it was clear these orcs had traveled quite a distance to get here. For fresh meat to spoil like that, it must have taken at least several days.
At that moment, even more orcs kept appearing.
These were better armed than the ones before. In their hands were long spears, the tips forked forward with elongated blades, and the edges revealed uneven serrations from repeated sharpening.
In the hands of several other orcs were curved swords. Similar in shape to scimitars but much heavier and blunter in appearance. The blades were not straight but bent, sharp yet somehow crudely forged. The hilts seemed made from animal bones, wrapped tightly with leather cords.
And still... orcs continued to emerge relentlessly from between the bushes and trees. Before long, orcs revealed themselves from every direction surrounding the clearing.
The tenth orc held different weapons in each hand. An axe in the right, a bludgeon in the left. Dried bloodstains clung to the axe blade, and the bludgeon bore clear marks of heavy use.
"Damn it..."
Bardh frowned as he looked around, deep wrinkles furrowing his brow, his eyes glaring at the orcs.
Finally, appearing late, the last orc carried a bow slung over its shoulder, unlike the others. A quiver on its back held arrows with feathered shafts protruding sharply. The arrowheads were rusted but still appeared keen.
"Hwual..."
Dobeul murmured softly. He was worried about Hwual, still unconscious. But for now, he had to think about how to handle this situation.
At last, the orcs fully encircled the clearing. There must have been at least thirty of them. Each had a distinct appearance and weapon, but what they shared was the savage glare fixed on Bardh and Dobeul.
Once the encirclement was complete, the orcs began to move in unison.
"Waaa!"
The foremost orc let out a roar, raising its spear. In that instant, the others simultaneously lifted their weapons. The curved swords gleamed ominously in the dark, and spear tips were aimed at Bardh and Dobeul.
"Bardh!"
Dobeul shouted, but it was already too late.
The first spear pierced Bardh's left shoulder. The sharp metal tore through thick fur and muscle, eliciting a scream from Bardh.
"Aaaargh!"
A second spear stabbed his right leg, just above the knee. The tip grated against bone, and Bardh staggered.
At the same time, attacks rained on Dobeul. One orc thrust a spear sideways, embedding it in his back.
"Urgh!"
As Dobeul pitched forward, another spear impaled the back of his hand. Blood trickled between his fingers.
-Clank, clink-
Then, the orcs hurled nets made of iron chains toward the two Dawi. The tangled chains unfurled in the air and enveloped Bardh and Dobeul.
"Urgh..."
Bardh struggled, but it was futile. The chains coiled around his body, restricting movement. Blood flowed from the spear wounds.
Dobeul fared no better. The chain net bound his body, making free movement impossible. The wounds on his back and hand throbbed.
"Grrrrr... Gahahaha!"
The orcs growled in satisfaction. The largest orc, seemingly their leader, said something to the others.
"Org Kark Narr! Gulama Tek!"
Dobeul and Bardh had no idea what they were saying. But their voices dripped with the triumph of victory and arrogance.
"Karak! Vorg Nark Tala!"
"Guluma! Guluma!"
The orcs conversed among themselves. One pointed at Bardh and said something, while another sneered at the fallen Hwual.
At that moment, something seemed to approach from the rear of the orc horde. The other orcs parted ways, stepping aside to the left and right. Through the path, a small shadow slowly walked forward.
This being didn't even reach half the height of the other orcs. Its stature barely came up to Dobeul's waist. Yet, the other orcs regarded it with an air of reverence.
Most striking was the mask it wore. Seemingly carved from wood, the mask was far larger than its head. It was an elongated oval shape vertically, with intricate patterns etched across its surface.
At the top of the mask hung dangling bone ornaments. White bones—whether from birds or beasts, it was unclear—were strung on leather cords and swayed. Whenever the wind blew, the bones clattered against each other.
The mask itself was peculiar in form. The wood grain remained vivid on the surface; some parts were smoothly polished, while others were left roughly hewn. Small holes served as eye slits, through which sharp, tiny eyes glinted.
The mouth area gaped wide, its interior pitch black. Tiny fang-like protrusions lined the edges, adding to the eerie aura.
Around the wooden-masked being's neck and arms hung ornate decorations. A necklace of densely strung beads in red and gold hues encircled its neck. Bracelets were similarly crafted from beads of the same colors, feathers, and small bone fragments.
Its clothing starkly differed from the other orcs. It wore dark brown leather garments, adorned with various talismans and shamanic trinkets. Several small pouches dangled from its waist, each emitting a distinct odor.
In the wooden-masked being's hand was a staff. Also seemingly wooden, its top bore a skull. The skull of a small animal, its empty eye sockets seemed to glare at Bardh and Dobeul.
The wooden-masked being approached the two Dawi slowly, deliberately.
With each step, a scraping sound against the ground echoed, and each tap of the staff produced a dull thud.
Clatter, thunk, clatter, thunk...
The other orcs bowed their heads as it passed. Some even knelt. It was evident how high a status this small being held among them.
When the wooden-masked being reached Bardh and Dobeul—impaled by spears and entangled in the chain net—it paused. The eyes behind the mask scrutinized the two Dawi carefully.
Then, it drew a small pouch from its bosom. The leather pouch was palm-sized, its opening tightly bound with a cord.
Carefully untying the cord, something wriggled inside. As the wooden-masked being tilted the pouch, a larva rolled out onto its palm.
The larva was about the length of a finger, its body a bright green. Striped patterns of yellow and black ran along its back. As it writhed, the patterns undulated.
"What the—!"
Bardh shouted. The sight of the grotesque larva triggered an instinctive revulsion.
"Get that away! What is that!"
Dobeul twisted his body, trying to back away. But with chains binding his arms, he couldn't move much.
The wooden-masked being hesitated for a moment between the two Dawi. With the larva on its palm, it glanced from Bardh to Dobeul and back, as if deliberating which to choose.
A brief silence fell. The orcs held their breath, awaiting its decision. Only the larva squirmed on the palm.
Finally, the wooden-masked being made its choice. It turned toward Bardh and approached slowly.
"No! Don't!"
Bardh thrashed, but it was no use. The wooden-masked being's fingers neared Bardh's ear. The larva wriggled and crawled into his ear canal.
"Aaaargh!"
Bardh screamed. The sensation of something alive slithering inside his ear made his spine stiffen with dread.
The wooden-masked being stood and spoke.
"Now, at last~ we can have a conversation, Dawi."
Astonishingly, to Bardh, the words came through clearly. It was undoubtedly an alien tongue, yet it registered as if in his own language.
"Dawi, there's a village of your kind nearby, isn't there? Lead us there. We need your village."
The wooden-masked being's voice was higher than expected, laced with a sly, insidious tone.
"Hah! As if I'd tell you. Get this disgusting worm out of my ear, you puny runt!"
Bardh yelled. His eyes were bloodshot with rage.
The wooden-masked being shook its head slowly. The bone ornaments on the mask clattered.
"Now, now. No need to get angry. If you just guide us to the village, we'll spare that Muwa over there, and your Dawi friend too. How about it?"
The wooden-masked being pointed in turn at the unconscious Hwual and Dobeul.
From the side, Dobeul asked urgently.
"What is that thing saying, Bardh?"
Bardh gritted his teeth and replied.
"It said if we lead them to the village, it'll let us live."
Dobeul's face contorted. His clenched jaw trembled as he suppressed it, and his nostrils flared with rough breaths.
"Hah! As if we'd believe that... No choice then, Bardh. I'll do it."
Dobeul said with a laugh. But there was no mirth in his eyes.
Bardh wore a similar expression.
"No, I should. I heard it first."
The orcs listening to the two Dawi's exchange cackled in satisfaction. The wooden-masked being nodded, waiting.
But a moment of silence ensued. Bardh and Dobeul exchanged glances, communicating without words. As old friends, they understood each other's thoughts implicitly.
Suddenly, Dobeul shouted loudly.
"The first Dawi to move does it!"
At the same time, Bardh countered.
"Hmph! I knew you'd say that, Dobeul!"
In that instant, the two Dawi moved simultaneously.
Though entangled in chains, their fury and resolve could not be contained. Blood gushed anew from their spear wounds, but they paid it no mind.
Dobeul lunged first at the wooden-masked being. Chains bound his body, but with arm strength alone, he seized it.
"Eeeeek! Wha... what!"
The wooden-masked being panicked and tried to retreat, but Dobeul's thick arms hoisted it up.
Right then, Bardh's fist slammed into the wooden-masked being's side.
Boom!
Simultaneously, Dobeul's fist struck its face dead-on.
The wooden-masked being screeched.
"Kiiiiiik!"
The mask shattered, revealing the face beneath. A small, wrinkled visage. Its nose crumpled, blood streaming out.
"Raaagh!!"
The orcs, flustered, tried to drive their spears deeper. The spears embedded in Bardh's shoulder and leg plunged further in.
"Aaaargh!"
But it wasn't enough to halt the enraged Dawi's movements. Bardh ignored the spear agony and unleashed another punch at the wooden-masked being.
Dobeul was the same. The spears in his back and hand dug deeper into flesh, but he didn't release his grip. Instead, he held on tighter and threw another fist.
The chain net hindered their motions, but the two Dawi powered through, tearing at the iron links with brute force as they charged.
"Kiaaaaaak!"
The wooden-masked being's scream echoed through the forest. Its neck and arm adornments shattered, scattering everywhere. Red and gold beads rolled onto the fallen leaves.
"Krag!! Nabuul Tek!"
The orcs roared in fury. With their shaman attacked, they lost all reason.
Spear tips pierced Bardh and Dobeul's bodies even deeper. Blood began pooling on the ground.
Yet the two Dawi did not stop.
"This is for our village!"
Bardh shouted, pounding the wooden-masked being's chest with his fist.
"Don't touch Udaba!"
Dobeul bellowed, hurling the wooden-masked being to the ground.
As the wooden-masked being collapsed, the orcs' assault intensified. Curved swords flashed, flying toward the two Dawi.
A sword lodged deep in Bardh's back, reaching to the spine.
"Urk..."
Blood spilled from his mouth.
A spear pierced Dobeul's side, burrowing between ribs and hitting organs.
"Urgh..."
But they continued pummeling the wooden-masked being with their fists until the end.
Finally, the wooden-masked being ceased all movement. Its neck was broken and twisted, the light gone from its eyes.
It was then that the unconscious Hwual opened his eyes.
Grasping the situation, tears welled in Hwual's eyes. Seeing his friends bloodied and fighting tore at his heart.
But he knew what he had to do now.
Enduring the pain from his wounds, Hwual rose from his spot. His wings ached, but he could fly with one at least.
"Hwuaaaaaaal!"
Bardh cried out with his last strength, calling to Hwual.
Hwual held back tears and took to the sky. One wing barely moved, but he flapped desperately.
The orcs tried to shoot arrows at Hwual, but it was too late. He had already soared high above the trees.
"Go warn Udaba, Hwual!"
Dobeul's voice came from below. It was growing weaker. Blood kept flowing from his side wound.
"Please, Hwual!"
Bardh managed to shout, his voice trembling as the sword in his back drove deeper.
Hwual didn't look back. He couldn't. Seeing his friends dying would break him.
Instead, he flapped frantically toward Udaba village. He endured the pain of his broken wing. He couldn't let his friends' sacrifice be in vain.
From below, the orcs' roars continued.
"Kaaaarraa!!"
"Guluma! Guluma!"
The orcs encircled the two Dawi in raging fury. Vengeance burned for their slain shaman.
Their bodies, crushed by chains and spear tips, were already in tatters, but the two Dawi refused to yield. Yet they were no warriors, no heroes by birth. They were simple woodsmen of the forest, felling trees and tending fires. No swords or shields in their hands—only fists. Those fists couldn't hold off the endless orc blades and spears forever.
Bardh dropped to his knees. He had no strength left to stand. Blood wouldn't stop from his shoulder, leg, and back wounds. His vision blurred.
"Dobeul..."
Bardh murmured weakly. Gazing at the wooden-masked being's corpse, he smiled in grim satisfaction.
Dobeul clutched his side. Blood seeped between his fingers. But there was no regret in his eyes.
"We saved Hwual..."
The two Dawi shared their final moments, gazing at each other. As lifelong friends, they understood without words.
"The Dawi and Muwa of Udaba... must be safe..."
Bardh whispered his last words. Then his eyes closed slowly.
Dobeul tried to rise one last time, but a spear from behind pierced his chest. He gasped shortly and collapsed. His gaze remained unyielding, even as it stilled.
The two friends breathed their last in quiet.
The orcs' roars echoed through the forest, but it was too late. Their shaman was dead, and Hwual was already flying toward the village.
Meanwhile, as Hwual flew toward Udaba village, tears streamed endlessly from his eyes. The wind brushed his face but couldn't dry them.
"Bardh... Dobeul..."
Hwual murmured softly. The final images of his friends replayed in his mind.
Hwual didn't stop. He had to warn the villagers. That orcs were coming. That they targeted the village.
In the distance, the lights of Udaba village came into view. The torches in the central square and the lanterns in each home glowed warmly in the darkness.
"Just a little more... just a little more..."
Hwual gritted his teeth and kept flapping. The village was close now.
"Wait... everyone, wait..."
Hwual mustered his final strength to wing onward. To honor his friends' sacrifice, he had to deliver the warning to the village, no matter what.
In the darkness, Udaba village's lights drew nearer. Hwual's small heart pounded fiercely. A tangle of fear, grief, and duty weighed on his chest.
The village boundary came into sight. The weathered wooden signpost and fence emerged faintly from the gloom. Soon, he would reach the villagers.
And he would tell them everything. Of Bardh and Dobeul's deaths. Of the orcs' invasion. Of the approaching peril.
Another tear fell from Hwual's eye. It scattered in the wind, vanishing into the dark. But the memory of his friends would never fade.