The Vengeance of the Warrior

By Nicholas Wimbledon

See his new work at http://www.deathbringer.ukf.net/

When the warrior returned to his village, it was to the scene of carnage.  Bodies of the dead and dying lay scattered around like so many seeds in the wind.  The stench of burning thatch mingled with that of flesh and hardened though he was, the great warrior Ax-Battler couldn’t help but gag at the sight of those he had returned from a quest to see, only to find them drowning in their own blood.  But grief gave way to rage and he roared out loud.  To his surprise he was answered by another - not far away - somewhere ahead of him in the forest.  He ran faster than anyone watching would have believed possible for one of his considerable size, into the midst of the trees towards the source of the fierce cry.

Brushing away the undergrowth he charged into a clearing to find a hideous beast with razor sharp claws mutilating a body which barely moved, but was still capable of offering some feeble resistance.  Ax-Battler was blinded both with fury and overwhelming grief, as the body, that of a middle-aged woman, was tossed sideways; his mother now moved no more.

The beast turned at Ax-Battler’s cry and charged him, an axe now in hand.  The barbarian charged also, not bothering to draw his mighty sword from his back.  In the middle of the clearing the Orc and warrior met, neither attempting to dodge the other’s blows.  The Orc swung his axe down at the human’s unprotected head, but the warrior grabbed the shaft, held it high, and butted the Orc a tremendous blow upon the skull.  Before the beast could recover,  he tossed the axe away, grabbed the monster’s head in both hands, and turning, hurled it over his shoulder to crash into an oak.  The impact must have splintered every bone in the creature’s repulsive body.

But the warrior couldn’t stay longer to bury his mother, for closing rapidly were a large group of them which even he wouldn’t be able to defeat.  He glanced once at his prone mother and gritting his teeth took off north, away form the marauding Orcs.

Under the cover of darkness, he carefully made his way around Orc encampments searching for any prisoners they may have taken.  Finding none he set about his new and most dangerous quest - that for revenge.

He had noticed the Orcs carrying trinkets and plundered goods, and so after a short while he discovered the identity of his foe.  Firstly he spotted an Orc carrying a banner - that of a Golden Axe.  He recognised the emblem of the King of Yuria immediately, and made his way westwards through the woods, by-passing several villages, until he reached the Great Plains.  From here on, his destination: the king’s castle from whence the banner must have been plundered, his journey far more dangerous than it had been. 

Surviving villagers he met informed him of his adversary.  It seemed that the one he followed was called Death Adder.  He had heard of him before in his travels but had thought that he was not powerful or a threat.  But he learned that the magic Golden Axe had been stolen by him, making him near invincible.  Not only that, for he had somehow united the Orcs from the East and the Amazons from the North, with promises of wealth and power.  They now fought for him alone.  Still this was not all - he also had the king, queen and  their daughter captive in their own castle, and in a brief span of time had demanded taxes so high that many people could not pay and had fled.

Time was running out for Ax-Battler: a threat had been made that the magic axe which held demonic forces at bay, would be destroyed if the taxes were not paid.  The first collection was due very soon.  With much haste, Ax-Battler journeyed on towards the castle and his destiny.

One night while he slept, a dwarf visited him.  A careless move, namely a misplaced foot, and he was greeted by the tip of a sword.  Ax-Battler grinned.

“How may I help you?” he enquired rising to his feet and looking down at  the would-be thief.  Nervously the dwarf laughed.

“Nay friend, it is I who can help you!”

Ax-Battler looked bemused “How so?”

“My friend I have a potion for you. Twill make you strong as….as….”

“A bear?”

“Why……to be sure a bear!”

“And I suppose you were checking to see if I had the means to pay for it, before you awoke me” he asked in mock cheerfulness.

The dwarf agreed.  Ax-Battler dropped his sword and picked the little thief up by the scruff of the neck.

“I can see you don’t need it!” shrilled the dwarfed.

Ax-Battler put him down and watched as the wretched man backed away.

“AAAARRRGGGHH!” Ax charged and the dwarf ran faster than the wind yelling in fright.  Laughing Ax turned and gathering his things got an early start.

Noon saw the warrior high up the mountain approaching Eagle Island: A living yet immobile giant Eagle - the product of the mighty wizards who once lived many eons ago.  As he reached the Eagle he was aware of danger all around, yet he could see nothing.  He continued his trek.

After a few hours he stopped dead still.  Before him a mound of earth was quaking.  He watched and waited.  A gleaming white bone hand appeared, then a skull, until before him stood a skeleton!  Behind this one, another pulled itself from the ground, and another and another! They advanced on him shakily, joints clacking noisily.  Each once held both sword and shield, Ax-Battler took a step back and turned to flee, but four more had appeared behind him, blocking his escape.  He had to fight! Swinging his sword about him kept them at bay but he knew that soon one of them would creep in under his guard and put and end to him.  He had to do something.

Then he remembered. Long ago he had been taught a word which he had been told would someday save his life - but only once.  A word of power - a word of magic.  He needed it now.  As his enemy moved in on him he closed his eyes and spoke “the Word”.

Unspeakable power flew through him - raw energy pulsed through his veins.  He called forth that which the Word allowed him.  The power of volcano magic.  Rocks exploded around him, but never did a piece struck him. Erupting from the ground, granite smote his foe and when the echoes had died away, he opened his eyes.  The skeletons were crushed and buried beneath enormous rocks.  He but glanced at them and continued towards the now visible castle.

When the barbarian fought his way into the castle, he left a trail of death behind him.  Death-Adder could scarcely believe it when the warrior approached him and demanded the Axe.  He could not understand how the man had made it to him alive and unhurt.  However, he was quick to retaliate.

“You want the Axe, fool?” he shouted. “Take it with my blessing!”

He lunged at Ax-Battler, the glowing Axe held tightly in his hand.  Despite his bulk, Death-Adder moved with agility, his cloak swirling around him.

They fought like demons, giving and receiving blows that would crush a lesser being.  But Ax-Battler was tiring.  He was clearly the least powerful.  A slash across the chest and he was down, lying helpless upon the ground.  He was going to die - he had failed.  Death-Adder stood over him, axe raised over his head.

“I admit to some respect for you!” he said, preparing the final blow.

“But I have none for you!” replied Ax-Battler.

“You are about to die and yet you don’t care?” he asked bemused.

“You can’t kill me with that!” spat ‘Battler. “You know nothing about its powers.” He lied.

“You’re bluffing!” replied the giant.

“Maybe. Strike me down.”

Death-Adder was uncertain.  This couldn’t be true. Could it? He smiled. Of course not.  The axe sailed down towards its target, but Death-Adder misplaced his strike.  In that moment Ax-Battler struck back.  His sword pierced Death-Adder’s heart.  In an instant, the Gold Axe lifted itself into the air, turned over and over, then split Death-Adder’s skull.

Ax-Battler was left wondering whether he had been right or not. 

The King and his queen and daughter were rescued.  For some unexplained reason the Amazons returned to their lair, and the Orcs to theirs.  Perhaps they realised that power would not be theirs after all, or perhaps the magic of the Axe had affected them, but whatever the reason, they retreated.  The land of Yuria was safe once again.  For now, the powers of evil were at bay, but for how long, no-one knew. 

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