Swamp of Death

CHAPTER 4

Thirel post, small wooden fort just north of Vallsynk, was built by a wholehearted aid from the councilmen of this major port town, as the first line of defense against the orcs. In due time, the fort turned into headquarters for all the details surrounding the caravan security, and safe passage through the Tanmar. Despite the constant tensions with orcs, a new war was not in anyone's interest. Especially for those councilmen, who used every opportunity for more savings. And one of them was to lower the inflow of resources for the outposts, thus forcing commanders to keep their personnel at absolute minimum. That ultimately led to closure of such posts, which were deemed to be obsolete and unnecessary.

Budget cuts also meant for a limited number of allowed new recruits, that were due to arrive every year. And by raising the age limit necessary for obtaining their highly deserved pensions, councilmen were telling how very little they respected them. It was truly a low blow towards every soldier. This was one of the newest decisions implemented by Vallsynk council. And it rattled Thorin the most. A clear slap to the face, directed straight at their hard service and honor. He soon realized that ultimately, most of his men would die in this forsaken place, before they could even begin to dream of a different life, far away from this one. Life expectancy was just over fifty years of age. And for almost a third of his troops, that ment, they were living on borrowed time.

On the other hand, with age comes wisdom and knowledge. And having that many experienced soldiers under his command considerably helped Thorin to manage all of the tasks he would probably struggle to accomplish, with much larger, but younger troops. And that was one of the main reasons for Thirel's post longevity, despite being somewhat decrepit. The soldiers of Thirel, these brave men, were the ones who kept this fort alive and functional. None other. Certainly not those councilmen from the south. And that was Thorin's doing. For he'd shown that nothing stood before the well being of his men. More importantly, loyalty and good service were rewarded with friendship. They were together in this. Strong like a family.

Thorin Lutir was the fort's captain for a very long time. His name was well known throughout the Dorull, although not for the same reasons. He was very experienced, a master tactician and renowned warrior. At times strict, but fair. In any other circumstance, he would certainly be a general in Sannwel. A human homeland, far to the south. But his philosophy and life choices proved to be costly, as many turned their backs on him. One compassionate moment of mercy, changed Thorin's life from the bottom up, thus leaving him open to the fierce public attacks. He was receiving threats almost every single day, and was branded a traitor. But he never showed any remorse or fear. Adoption of a little, half-orc boy, he saved from certain death, was something he could only be proud of.

Presence of the half breeds in Sannwel, was at the time strictly forbidden. Especially those with orcish blood in them. As a product of failed attempts at reconciliation between humans and orcs, this race was looked upon with much hatred from both of the sides. In that turn of events, they had nowhere to turn to. As they lived under the constant threat.

Secretive hunting parties, for rich and wealthy lords from Sannwel, were often targeting half-orcs. Few of the survivors sought refuge at the far corners of northern Dorull. Alone, afraid and in inhospitable territory, their chances for survival were slim, and that was exactly what Sannwel noblemen meant to accomplish.

Thorin's stepson was left to be the only half-orc among humans. A constant nuisance for all of those who were trying to eradicate this part of Dorull's history. Sure enough, the Lords found a perfect solution for this particular problem, as the young, newly promoted captain got himself transferred to the Thirel fort. And in this dangerous swamp to the north, there were no guarantees. Tanmar was certainly the place where all problems could suddenly disappear overnight. But, Lords weren't counting on Thorin's remarkable survival abilities and defiance.

Heavy burden of adopting Bagtur vanished with their arrival in Tanmar, which gave him good enough reason to try and make this place as good as any, for raising a child. Despite the odds, this dangerous swamp would soon enough become their home. A place in which they will gain a lot of friends, and more importantly, create plenty of memories. Thorin had no doubts that Bagtur would follow his footsteps, on which he endeavoured a couple of decades ago. That moment, when he saw the young half-orc in Thirel's uniform, would forever remain one of his dearest. The sense of pride ment a world to this experienced warrior. Just to watch his son find a place among people, was enough to know that he was right all along.

However, now, after all of these years, they found themselves in a possibly worst period ever, since Thorin took the charge of the fort. The support from Vallsynk was decreasing more and more, as their demands had grown proportionally. This was, by all means, not an accident. Thorin suspected it to be some sort of hidden political agenda at large. But what exactly, he did not know. Mercantile councilmen were known to be stingy. Even the slightest of profits were beyond everything else. Releasing a couple of soldiers from time to time was something captain Lutir could agree to accept. But to risk the entire fort, with budget cuts, and increasingly frequent layouts, was absolutely ridiculous. It would be stupid to do all of this, to go all the way, just for saving a couple of coins.

And in due process, they were risking mining caravan's escorting details, his men were providing on a regular basis. To what end? He felt it was somewhat personal. Dealing with the newest council's measure could prove to be a long and tedious process, but one which Thorin decided he won't let pass by silently. But in the meantime, he had some pressing matters to tend to. Spring season is just about to begin. First of numerous mining caravans was due to arrive. Soon it will be time to send a patrol for Hanlock. Thorin had to be sure that his entire fort was ready for the tasks ahead, as if he was trying to prove a point.