El-Vador's Travels Read Online Free PDF

close, Harg
expertly jerked it back before thrusting forward again. He felt the
soft, heavy resistance of flesh as the tip of the weapon pierced the
man who sought to slay him.
    Harg
had just made it to Gurgash's side when they had to retreat once more
to avoid being surrounded. 'How far are we from the gateway?' he
shouted.
    'We have a few feet to spare, nothing more.' answered his cousin.
'But if reinforcements don't push up soon they'll overwhelm us.'
    That
was precisely what the Elves were doing. They continued to force the
Orcs and Goblins back even further until they were fighting
desperately to hold them out of the fortified encampment. If the
Elves made it into the camp, Chief Sarvacts' army was doomed. Even
the champions couldn't fight off these numbers.
    'What
are we going to do?' cried Gurgash in despair and exhaustion
    'Fight,' said Harg grimly. So they did.

    'Keep pressing them!' Cusband howled. 'Once we make the gateway
they're ours!'
    They
had pressed the Orcs to the very gates of their camp but had been
unable to force their way beyond that bottleneck. Their opponents now
had the dead-eyed look of creatures who see death behind them and
death ahead of them and fought in a frenzied, primal manner that
actually worked in their favour.
    There
also seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of them coming out of the
gates to bolster the numbers. Somehow these inner Orcs had evaded the
arrows previously sent into the encampment. The remaining Goblin
archers had only one target to aim at and were becoming much more
deadly as a result.
    Cusband
hacked desperately at a spear thrust out at him, barely lopping off
the tip with his axe before it punched a hole in his ribs. The blow
from the shaft still winded him slightly, causing one of his comrades
to waylay the creature in his defence.
    The
Orcs outside the gate that Cusband faced fell back into the camp for
reasons unknown. The foot soldiers who had been hurrying out to help
defend the lines ceased to press forward. Why had they given up this
natural bottleneck?
    A
cry of victory came from the Elven forces who pressed on with a
renewed vigour in an attempt to gain the gateway.
    A
deep horn sounded inside the fort, the retreat from the Orcs had been
tactical as he had suspected. Now what was left of the Elves faced
off against the huge armoured champions that had remained out of
sight until this moment.
    They
lumbered forward, some mounted and some on foot, slamming into the
oncoming warriors in a wave of steel. Clubbing blows from vast maces
and shining hooves of galloping warhorses greeted the tiring Elven
forces.
    They
fought back as best they could against such a devastating counter
attack but their swords and spears rattled harmlessly off the
champions' thick plate.
    Cusband's
axe felt as if he had hacked at a stone wall. In spite of the
encumbrance of the champion's armour the Orcs displayed surprising
agility. These elite warriors bellowed out the name of Chief Sarvacts
after each kill and in return one of the riders pumped a mailed fist
in the air.
    Cusband
could not see his face but the Orc fought like a creature who had no
regard for its own life. Relentlessly he charged his armoured
warhorse into the press, killing Elf and Orc alike.
    The
Orcish champions had superior armour, were fresh into the battle and
had momentum on their side. Never had any of their foes been able to
stand against these warriors in battle and here was no different than
any other slaughter they had been part of.
    Those
that did not flee the assault fell, with the few forces left being
routed. Cusband found himself alone.
    He
knew that he must flee. He could not stand alone against this
onslaught where their combined forces had failed. And so, cursing the
Orcs and Goblins with equal vehemence, he ran. That he was last to
leave the field alive was little consolation, he had fled like a
coward where others had stood and given their lives for the cause. He
was no better than the craven fools