The Kuscan Demon by Sam Ferguson

Author:Sam Ferguson [Ferguson, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragon Scale Publishing
Published: 2020-03-30T22:00:00+00:00

*****

Torgath had spent three days traveling northward from his village, finding the jagged mountains where his target was known to live. Four orcs accompanied him, but given that this was his quest to prove his honor, none of them were allowed to help him. They were his witnesses. They would travel with him, record his actions, and then report to the council.

If they survived.

Torgath wasn’t even sure he would survive.

Conquering a dwarven army and slaying their king was one thing, but meeting a dragon was quite another. At least dwarves and humans were bound to the same ground that Torgath walked. A dragon, however, could use the mountains to its advantage, and attack from the sky.

He wasn’t scared, for an orc never admitted fear, but he was concerned. In his mind he devised a thousand strategies to sneak up on the beast, but in his heart he knew none of them would work. A dragon is rarely surprised, and those that were usually won their battles anyway.

The four witnesses talked amongst themselves, each commenting on when and where Torgath chose to stop and make camp. As they offered him no advice, he offered them no choice in the matter. He traveled until he felt like resting, and that was that. At night, near the campfire, he sang the old songs, prayers put to music for the First Father. He sang for strength. He sang for honor. He sang for guidance. Torgath knew the First Father could hear him, even from the Place of Exile that Icadion had banished the First Father to. The orc could only hope that his god had the strength to answer his pleas.

Upward they went into the mountains, but they were still days away from their destination. They traveled between rocky spires and up over massive mounds half as tall as the towering peaks capped with snow. They had prepared themselves for the colder weather, each orc bringing fur coats and gloves. They had planned for extra food and supplies. What they hadn’t considered, was that a group of dwarves hunted them as they neared the dragon’s domain.

They stopped on the fifth night half way up a rocky mountain called Iggbrist. It was a wide peak of stone, heavily forested and marked by several mountain streams. The four witnesses ate their food while they watched Torgath commence his songs. After the third hymn, an arrow pierced one of the witnesses through the neck, dropping him to the side mid-way through a bite of deer.

Torgath leapt to his feet and seized his sword. Two more arrows flew through the camp, harmlessly striking trees. The orc looked about the camp, but with the fire behind him it was hard to see into the darkness. His sharp ears picked out the incoming sound of an arrow just in time. He ducked as the missile soared by.

The remaining witnesses gathered their weapons to defend themselves, but the bulk of the battle would be left to Torgath. His quest, his glory. If they helped, then his glory would be diminished.

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