Stand your ground (Korgara)

[Scharda]

-Korgara K'rosh Ironhide-

”Stand your ground! Hold the line! Hold the line!!”
Even in the midst of battle her voice echoed like the hoarse bark of a wolf, the wind howling all around them, whirling up the snow and biting at skin and leather as if a beast with fangs of ice.
Blood stained the ground, their breaths turning to ice in the cold wind as they growled and shouted at the enemy gathering up on the far side of the small gorge. The battlefield half buried in the dancing snow that sought to cover the bodies of fallen friends and foes alike.
In a matter of hours it would be as if they’d never been there, but before that time the orcs would make damn sure the dwarves remembered that this was theirs land. And no dwarf nor wind nor ice or snow would be able to twist the land from their grip. They’d sooner die, and take the enemy with them.

”You do not move from this spot! We hold this ridge and we make them pay for their intrusion in blood!”
The orcs howled in unison, iron fists and axes bashing at their shields making a sound as if a hundred drums of war echoing through the mountains.

Korgana turned her gaze towards the enemy with a smirk on her lips, blood smeared across her face and armour as she lifted her axe above her head. There was bloodlust in her gaze, a hint of insanity perhaps but there was no denying that it was because of that that she still stood. Bravery only took you so far, you had to be a little mad to be able to go all the way.
”Frostwolves!” she screamed. ”Didn’t I promise you a good fight?!”
There was laughter from the band of orc, a general cheer suggesting that despite their fatigue there was still enough strength left in them for one more charge. Or well, defence as it was.

Wiping her bloodied mouth with the back of her hand, the young orc’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as she eyed the dwarves readying a last attack. Her unit, or rather, Mor’gash’s unit, consisted of recruits and young bloods, none of which was yet proven warriors but all of which had fought as if they were. The dwarves had thought them an easy target when they’d ambushed them, but to their surprise, the axes of the young bloods had proved as sharp as those of their veterans.
The dwarves had killed of Mor’gash, but while they perhaps had thought that the unit would scatter and flee without his leadership they’d instead found that it had only furthered their resolve to fight.

Korgara licked her broken fang as she eyed the enemy huddle together as if unable to decide their next move.
As Mor’gash’s second in command, it was her unit now and she’d be damned if she was to hand them over to the dwarves without a fight. At the very least, with no other option in sight, they’d take as many down with them as they could possibly manage. Blood, strength, honour. It didn’t matter much when you were dead, but it did matter how you died. And if given a choice she rather it be on a battlefield with axe in hand than in a bed, frail and sick.

”We will not move an inch…” she hissed, her eyes narrowing as her voice grew to a roar. ”We’ll decorate our shields with your beards ya hear me?! You good for nothing, bite sized goat lovers!
Again the other orcs joined in, metal and wood  rumbling like thunder as they bashed their axes on their shields and howled like wild wolves. They knew as well as she did that this would be their last stand, but if they couldn’t brag about their exploits at the camp fire afterwards, then they’d make damn sure to make a stand so great that others would tell their tale in their place.

It would seem at this stage their enemy’s patience had been worn thin as the sudden cry of a battle horn shattered the howling winds and signaled the dwarves’ charge. Metal plated boots stomping the ground flat as the armoured unit moved as if one, their superior disciple and training visible for even a rookie to see.
The orcs hesitated but remained in line, Korgara’s voice echoing in their ear with a bite that suggested that fleeing would do them far worse than any dwarven blade ever could.
She didn’t like leading them into certain death but as things were, retreat wasn’t an option. If the unit scattered and fled the dwarven thunderers would only pick them off one by one and the messenger they’d sent back to Frostwolf Hold would be intercepted, destroying any chance of forging a counterattack.
No, better to buy them time. Better to die as true orcs.

”Hold the line!”
The orcs grumbled, steading their stances and bracing themselves for impact. They held the high ground, it wasn’t much but better than to fight down in a ravine where the thunderers would be able to hit them from above.
”Hold!”
The dwarves moved closer. Korgara’s orders echoing down the line as others repeated it.
”Hold!” she shouted again.
The thunder of orcish shields and axes now outdone by the sound of metal clad feet stomping across the battlefield as they neared the final stretch.
”WE!” she screamed at the top of her lounges, lifting her shield and clutching an already bloodied axe in her right hand.
”ARE ORC!!” the orcs roared.

”Give it your best shot, stunties…” Korgara muttered.
The two lines clashing in an explosion of wooden splinters and shattered steel.


((Just trying to get to know my own character a little better with this, oh, and I needed a break from work *cough*))

[Mazguul]

(( Very good once again. I wish to thank you for sharing this one with us, she seems like a proper orcie for sure! FOR THE HORDE!!! ))

[Gorewolf]

(( nice work, you really catch the atmophere of the battle with this one! and you make orcs seem even more awesome! ROAR! ))