The Witching Stars

Part 2 of chapter 1

The ogres heave themselves up towards us, seeming to be like mountains as they moved. Their wagon sized hands grip the ground with tremendous force. Their large ridge backs shake and tremble, rocks and snow collapsing off them as they moved.  They lift their heads, their thick necks barely able to hold up the large rocky wedge shaped heads. With two large blood red eye that focuses onto us, they open their large mouths and begin to salivate. The brown liquid rolls down their pointy chins and drips all over themselves, drenching the white snow into a brown mush. Their cloven hooves rack the ground, stumbling and slipping across the frozen sheet of ice. Their thick hides, implanted with rocks everywhere as a armor, begin to creak and groan. “Attack!” we bellow as we charge further. Kicking Frostbright, I curve left, breaking way from the group. Skittering in between the legs of an ogre I pull out my sickle blades and cut the soft tendons of the beast.

The ogre lets out a scratchy bellow, its hunched back sprawling out as it crashed into the ground. Laughing wildly, I let out a bay and rejoin the others who are franticly trying to attack their own targets. The air is bombarded with the sounds of blades being unsheathed and swung, being met with the rocky hides of the ogre’s and their voices of rage. A large hand lands on my left flank, sending both my horse and I into the air a few feet. Landing with a harsh stagger, Frostbright manages to right her footing and skitters away from the Ogre. 

Running alongside another ogre, I stand up in my saddle, bracing myself I jump onto its rocky arm. Climbing like mad, using my sickle blades to hook into its soft spots. Once onto its bulky shoulders, I take a moment to catch my balance and aim myself properly. With a large leap of faith, I sail over and land my blades into the beasts eye. The ogre begins to shake, tossing its head in agony. Shoving my foot into its large single nostril, I yank out a blade and impale it into the other eye. The orange blood that bubbles out, seeming to come in a rush like a flooding river, stings my arms as it goes down.

With a last ditch effort to get me off, the ogre tosses its head upwards, sending me into the air. Using this against him, I come back down on my weapons, sending them through the eyes and into the brain. Its whole body goes limp, collapsing backwards. Grasping the large rock in front of me, I hold on tight. The crash feels more like an earthquake, shaking everything, even the air. It dislodged me from my spot, sending me to the orange slush below. Sliding along the ground, I feel the snow penetrate my clothes. “Great!” I whine, “Covered in blood snow and lost my weapons. Just great!”

Whistling as loud as I can, Frostbright comes back to me, seeming a bit unnerved. Shaking off as much snow as I can, I climb back aboard.

“There’s too many!” someone shouts, craning my neck over, I see a horse and rider go flying. Only to be swallowed quickly, gobbled down like a small feast. Cursing low, I spin my horse around to counter attack the Ogres that have encroached upon us from behind.

“Spread apart!” I bellow, distancing the ogres by waving my hands in the air. I can hear the others behind me; attacking, dying, fighting desperately. Everything becomes a blur… the dull vibrations of sound around me, the orange blood covering my hands and clothes. And with a flash, everyone vanishes, scattering about in a crazed manner.  Following my own instructions, I bail out on my plan and push Frostbright into a gallop. The ogres tail me, digging their hands into the ground with fury as they try to keep up with me. For every three breaths I take, Frostbright covers nearly twenty feet, and the ogres cover about nineteen.

“Somebody… help!” someone wails, turning my head I spot Maverick horseless and about to be cornered between the mountain and the ogres.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I utter, spiting angrily, I veer to him. “I told you, you wouldn’t survive!” I yell at him as I draw near him. The childish look in his eye makes me feel pity for him. The blood that runs down from his head has started to freeze, marring his face with a ragged mark. “Grab my hand!”Extending me arm out as far as I can, Maverick grabs my hand quickly. When I begin to pull to get him up on my horse, I see the fear in his eyes change into something else. Understanding of the situation. With a quick turn, Maverick pulls me off Frostbright and sends me into the cold snow.