Dark, dense clouds discern far away to the northeast, bringing rain, thus spoiling Thorin's mood even more. Something was wrong, he knew it. The caravan was way too late, and his patience was wearing thin. One final report of "All clear.", from the lookout was enough for him, as he stormed the closest barrack. It was a simple, yet sturdy and well made building that could accommodate over fifty soldiers. The barracks were divided into boxed, small rooms. With five beds and chests adjacent to them, just large enough for storing any equipment and valuables, soldiers had in their possession.
Thorin slammed the thick, massive doors of the barracks, as he ran inside. Dreamy soldiers were quite surprised by this sudden, unannounced visit, but also very quick in their response, hastily forming a line in front of their beds.
"Ready for inspection sir...captain!" the nearest of the soldiers shrieked, minding the fact that many of them had barely any pants on them.
"Sure you are. The pride of the north." Thorin swiftly replied "I need five soldiers, ready to march, waiting by the gates in half an hour."
As fast as he entered, Thorin left the barracks, just to turn right, through the narrow passage between two buildings. He proceeds through the row of attached houses, taking a shortcut towards the officers barracks.
"Bagtur!" captain yelled, as he opened the cottage doors "Get up you lazy boy, we're heading on a patrol."
Large half-orc's head peeped underneath the battered, heavy blanket. His tousled, black hair looked like a lion's mane. Bagtur blinked a couple of times, muttering a few incoherent words, just so he could turn to the other side. Half-orc had a bit too much to drink, the night before, in a foolish bet against Kaprandt, fort's chief cook. And now, he was suffering just about enough, cursing his reckless decision. But Thorin had no sympathy, nor the time to wait on Bagtur getting better.
Half-orc was again fast asleep, when all of the sudden his stepfather poured a full bucket of ice-cold water, right on top of him. In an instant explosion of surprise and anger, Bagtur jumped to his feet, howling like a wounded animal. It was a harsh, yet very effective way to wake up his drunken stepson.
"Grab something to eat." Thorin said, as he went towards his bedroom "We are leaving in twenty minutes."
YOU ARE READING
Swamp of Death
FantasyThe conflict between orcs and humans threatens to spread over Tanmar, when in this swamp, on the far north of Dorull, arrives young half-orc Grodish. Finding the killer of his mother, was his sole motivation. Prepared for any challenge, because only...
