Tales from the crypt: Ogres

  • Prince

    "Spears! On the ready!" Squire Horus yelled at the top of his lungs. The Mazlan soldiers quickly filed into a line and their spears were pointed forward towards the misty unknown of the forests edge. The ground trembled, a few of the younger Mazlan fighters trembled along with the feeling, their fear oozing from them as they waited for whatever horror the Squire Valiant was readying them for.

    "Do not bend do not buckle. IT cannot change direction quickly. Stab Up and let go of the spear as soon as you make contact!" He yelled to the line of them. Their numbers were small for the task, less than 100, he feared they would not be enough.

    "Horus! I'm riding out, hold here with them." His Knight, Sir Arno of the Bloody Cross, was already atop his horse and his sword was already drawn. Keep an eye to the east, if I fail, retreat do not try and fight them." He didn't wait for a response and rode off into the darkness.

    Horus nodded and looked back to the misty abyss. The ground trembled again and then a rhythmic thunder began at them. Thum! Thum! THUM! the sound was footsteps and through the mist Horus saw it first, the Ogre was huge easily twenty feet tall and made of muscle and covered in hide and metal. It's huge mace was raised over it's head. The men stayed their defense. In the moment, even the youngest of the Mazlan stopped their fear, they buried it deep in them and it was replaced with a fearlessness that was indicative of a typical Helian.

    "HOLD!" He screamed, although the line didn't need his direction.

    The ogre slammed into the line, sweeping ten men away with a swipe of the club and the rest fell in stabbing hard at it's mid section. The spears penetrated and snapped off quickly as the men scattered way from the rampaging creature. The Ogre lifted it's head and screamed brushed at it's abdomen in a vain attempt to dislodge the spears inside of it. Arrows came soon after many bouncing off the creatures thick hide, but some found purchase in the roof of it's mouth and soft parts under it's arms.

    The sounds of the creature were less of pain and more of frustration. The attacks of the humans below him was like the biting sting of ants. Horus knew they were only pissing it off, they didn't have the weapons to truly fight it. He was scared, not of the ogre but for the men, they would all die here if he didn't step up. He had fought monsters before but rarely on his own, and he had never been the lone deciding factor of a battle. Was this how his teacher felt, did Sir Arno feel this same fear, is it why he chose to become a Valiant?

    Horus was moving before he had even finished the thought, his body carrying him right at the ogre. Sword was drawn, and a blinding light flashed along with it, the Ogre shielded it's eyes and that moment was enough for him. He ran between it's legs and slashed at it's heel, the hot fire of the blade cutting through the creatures hide with an ease the unblessed weapons could not have possessed. The Ogre took a step and stumbled it's foot unable to support it's weight. Horus spun on a dime and ran at the creatures back, he jumped and kept his feet moving running up the sway back spine of the ogre until he got it's neck and he plunged the blade into it. The attack made the creature reel back and Horus only just barely hung onto his sword handle as the blade was plunged hilt deep.

    The Mazlan had recovered some order and ropes were throw to try and tie the creatures arm down. Spears were recovered and thrust once again into the Ogres weakest points.

    They were winning. Horus couldn't help but feel some pride.


    The voice seemed to still the battlefield, it sucked the hope right from the young squire as two Ogres came from the direction his teacher had gone. Sir Arno must have failed.

    "Retreat!" He yelled. "RUN!" he let his hand go from the sword and dropped the ten feet to the ground with a catlike ease.

    Horus knew he could not leave. He had to buy time.

    The Mazlan were blowing their horns and those able began to run back the way they had come.

    Horus stood between the wounded ogre, the incoming two. He focused on his faith, and his armor began to glow and he was like a star on the battlefield. The incoming ogres ignored the Mazlan completely, drawn to the Squires light like a beacon.

    Horus may not have become a knight, but his last act was a testament to their order.

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