Arlandra and Juliet had awoken, gathered their things, and rode out for Garn’s camp before the sun had left the horizon. As Fox galloped continuously throughout the day, Arlandra knew that they were getting closer, as he could smell the distinct aroma of the Eldar Forest gradually strengthening. Also, the ground was becoming less even and rockier as they parted from the great Taegan Valley.
The camp was not so hard to find, and as Arlandra and Juliet rode up on Fox it was as if the camp was calling out to them. It was the sound that gave it away. Huge ferocious mechanical saws screamed and shrieked as they worked, and great powerful steam engines rumbled and spat burning white smoke into the air.
There were at least a hundred men, sweaty and sore, working hard with the machines around the camp. They had all done sure work, too, for even where Fox stood so far away the ground was discoloured and torn from where the forest used to live. Arlandra could not ignore the perilous size of their machines. They were like great beasts that had a will of their own, and strangely, this frightened him. Although, he saw, scattered between them and the camp in the distance were dozens of dead machines, burned and broken, and no doubt done in by the hands of the orcs.
Arlandra had never seen an orc for himself, but he had read about them as a child. They were large, much larger than the Djann and just as well were they fighters. Arlandra knew that the orcs lived for hunting, and their traps and ambushes were surprisingly complicated for such simple-minded beasts. Like the Djann, they also lived in tribes, or clans, and battled each other as a mere lifestyle.
Arlandra focused himself and continued forward. They would circle around to the woods and approach the camp from the tree line. So close to the valley still, they should be safe from the beasts that lurked hungrily in the forest. Conveniently, there were four major machines that ran the camp – including the main saw – and Juliet happened to have four of her little devices on her. The plan was simple, however Arlandra ran though it with Juliet again, just to be safe. They were each to take two bombs and sneak into the camp. They would plant the bombs and then they would sneak back out so that they could wait for Garn to arrive.
Arlandra parted with Juliet at the South side of the camp, where she remained while he climbed into the forest and around to the other side. The machines were massive, way larger than they looked from afar, and as Arlandra looked up at them now he was thrown aghast, but he would not be intimidated. Now, how do I get in?
Between him and the machines stood a ten foot high wall made of sawn redwood trees, and to add to that there was a brigade of armed guards scattered all throughout the camp. No doubt to keep the orcs out. The raids must have been worse than he thought.
Arlandra sat for a moment, observing the stirring environment before him, and then he saw his way in. A few meters from where he hid in the trees there was a checkpoint where workers came and went and carts constantly flew past carrying loads of wood and supplies. Arlandra stood up, removed his mask and calmed himself, and then he walked towards the checkpoint. He added himself onto a group of passing workers. A massive bearded man with no shirt and a barrel chest stood in front of him, and a sturdy bald guy with no teeth and a lazy eye was at his back.
He felt that they had bought his disguise, but it was not sold yet. He somewhat hurriedly made his way to walk along a supply cart where he discretely took for himself a bronze-coloured hard hat and a woodcutter’s axe. Two guards waited at the entryway – covered with heavy brown coats and grey leather hats, but it was their weapons that caught Arlandra’s eye. Both carried some form of rifle, strange and foreign to the assassin, who was quite used to advanced models and complex mechanics. The weapons were smaller than the rifles he had seen and known, and he noticed that they used magazines – shining with dim purple light in the sun.
The guards barely gave Arlandra a second glance as he entered their camp. The air was hot and carried the aroma of wood and smoke and metal. Men grumbled as they went about their work and no one smiled or even looked at each other for that matter. The mechanical saw was the closest object for Arlandra to sabotage, and he kept his eyes fixed as he swept through the sweaty petulant crowds.
Suddenly he heard a booming shriek shudder noisily through the camp. He stood up, and looked left and right. The workers didn’t react at all – as if it never happened. The shriek came again, louder, and more of a bellowing howl this time. What in god’s name was that?
It wasn’t a machine – that much was certain. Only flesh could make such a sound. It came again, and Arlandra listened. He heard pain in the voice of whatever it was that had called out. So he moved slowly past a small metal tower and followed the direction of the voice. Soon enough he found its source. It belonged to an orc. The beast stood alone in the dirt with chains fixed around his arms and legs. His skin was pale green and his muscles were large and prominent. The orc’s face was chiselled and hard, and his large square jaw housed a wide mouth with thick yellow teeth behind it. His nose was flat like a plateau and his massive green skull was bald save for a single dark strand tied into a ponytail. Then there were the eyes; Arlandra could see them even from afar. They stared forward, a rich burning yellow filled with anger and desperation.
The orc bellowed once again, as if he were screaming at the sun, until one of the workers launched a rock at him. The orc shied away as it crashed into his face and created a gash across his brow. “Would you kindly shut up!” the man yelled in anger.
The orc growled and pulled at his chians and then bellowed out again. The thing was truly a monster, and Arlandra was amazed that they even managed to capture it. But, once he had seen enough he looked away. He still had work to do, and he brushed back the way he had come under the shadow of the mechanical saw. He was looking for a power box or a control panel and he circled around until he found it. He strode up a thin metal platform and examined the box that he assumed powered the machine, or at least something of the like. He tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. Of course it’s locked.
When he managed to wedge the box open he found a panel of buttons, switches and levers that he didn’t really care for. All he had to do was place the device and arm it; the detonator would set it off when ready. He did this again to the other machine, a generator, he believed it was, and when both charges were set he hurriedly moved to someplace more hidden. He had to meet up with Juliet. And so he searched for her, all through the camp, but there was no sign. Where is she? He began to wonder.
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