Free Black Metal: The Orc Wars by Sean-Michael Argo Page B

of the age broke upon their spears. We must be thankful, my esteemed colleagues and noble lords, that the might of the greenskin has waned, and the great hordes of old plague us no longer. The modern orc is a simple reaver, belonging to scattered tribes across this great land, and pose no significant threat. Our pogrom will be as swift as it is just.” --- Ellarion Teague, former Grand Scribe, excerpt from his first speech in office

The six elven rangers skirted the circle, staying to the tree line as they made their way. Carefully they emerged from the forest and into the ring of ancient stones, their arrows knocked and bows at the ready. Keen eyes took in the scene before them as their breath came out, cloudlike in the morning chill.
    The camp had been abandoned, and hastily at that. All about the area were the deep ruts from sleds or wagons, gouges left in the earth by heavy vehicles. Tracks of troll, goblins, and orc could all be seen. The path they had taken was fairly obvious, the underbrush around what seemed to have originally been a game trail hacked and churned as the horde passed through it.
    The elves gathered together in the center of the stone circle, signaling to the other six elves waiting in the trees, sending them back to the main body of troops with a report of what had been seen. The rest of them began talking in hushed tones, discussing the terrifying implications of the abandoned camp. Apparently troll, orc, and goblin had formed an alliance of some kind. Aside from the fact that most of the goblin tracks were in the back of the fleeing column it appeared that it was a bloodless alliance. The elves wondered at the danger such cooperation amongst the ancient races would pose to the world if it spread to other enclaves of these creatures. They would be facing thousands, insurmountable foes for sure. Hearing the Iithsulian force drawing near, four of the elves stayed behind to relay the new plan. While the other two moved up the new trail to pursue the fleeing horde.

“No castle stands sufficiently guarded, no hearth properly defended, no family protected, so long as the orc roams alive and free. Rob them of steel and they will fight with empty hands, take the heads from their shoulders and their children will fashion them into maces. We have to kill them all.” --- Sir Blaine Hightower, slain at the Battle of Meeting Stone

The goblins were running hard, without a care for stealth or silence they plowed through the underbrush at incredible speeds. Their wilderness skills giving them an added advantage along with their short stature. They were able to follow obscure game trails at speed and not be impeded by hanging foliage that would have stalled taller creatures. There were only a handful of them left now, though they had begun the day with many more.
    The outset of the day had seen them scampering about the forest, laying a myriad of traps and snares along the fleeing horde’s main trail, as well as the smaller side trails the elves were sure to take. Their small force had been chosen by the big orc leader to be a rearguard. Though all who knew of the order understood that rearguard meant ambush party, at least that was what the word meant in goblin. So after several hundred yards of trail had been trapped the goblins hastily concealed themselves at the entrance to the trapped area. Some perching in trees, others squatting in makeshift blinds, others still were hidden amongst the underbrush.
    They knew that the force they were about to attack not only outnumbered them, but had an advance scout troupe of elves. Elves and goblins have long been dire enemies, each representing the more primitive and wild natures of sentient beings. Yet the goblins were an ancient race, bound to the earthen roots of the past so deeply that it was whispered by more radical thinkers that the goblins were likely not just an ancient race, but the First Race. The elves, always a prideful and aloof race, were threatened by