Orc Attack (Patreon)

Brynn looked around him. He saw worthy men. Stout and strong these fighters would stand until the end. He had stood with many on the battlefield before. They were all battle hardened and experienced, and he didn’t doubt their courage. Wearing the tabards of the city guard they gripped their swords tight and hefted their shields. The gate remained shut but they could feel the enemy approach. Cries came from the battlements.

“Hold firm lads.” Brynn said, as much to himself as to his comrades.

They had heard what was coming but none believed it. An orc as tall as a tower they said. A she-orc that could raise a city on her own. Exaggeration and fancy Brynn had thought, until the order had come to bar the gate.

The fires in the courtyard burned red and low. It was early evening and winter the sun hid behind a thick mantle of cloud that raced across the sky without ever clearing. He thought he felt the ground shake, but then he heard a bellow that froze him to the core. It was loud. The archers on the walls loosed their arrows as a dark shape seemed to emerge from the swirling gloom. 

She was bigger than they had ever imagined. Her head loomed up above the parapets and she looked down at them all with something that looked almost like mirth. Before the defenders could even muster a rallying cry she was stepping directly over the castle walls. She hadn’t even needed to attack the gates. Why would she when she was too large to crawl through them? As she stepped she let out another bellow. It rang deep and hideous, shaking the very bones of the men through their armour.

Brynn saw a flash of colour against the dull sky as a figure leapt up onto the roof of the battlements and let an arrow fly. It was the elf who had arrived last night! He didn’t have time to see if she had made her mark before the heavy booted foot thundered to the ground, crushing two of the guards instantly. He dove forwards and rolled, just avoiding the giant orc’s axe as it came whistling down and crashed into the arms store where he had stood. Rushing forwards he drove his sword into the booted foot, but even as he thrust, it turned, and his blade was caught in the thick leather and wrenched from his grasp. He screamed as the beast’s toe flicked him carelessly. He shot across the yard and into a wall, cutting his cry short with a sickening crunch.

*No alternative angles with this I'm afraid. There were problems with the file so this is the one and only money shot.