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Your writing has improved temendously Trondheim. Great job and keep it up!

Enthusiasm and momentum is what keeps us going!

Thanks good to hear that you think so. And yes that I agree with

I am pleased to see Miranda has gotten away and it is nice to see Ogres portrayed as something more than stupid oafs bent on eating everything. Go Greyskull!

Chapter 12.

Gothmog could feel it in the very air around him, they where entering a realm that seemed to posses great power in the very bones of the earth, and the frozen glacial plains around him and his underlings.
Yes these places could potential grant him vast power and wealth if it could be tamed. For once his hubris could be defended, he had gained new troops and fresh supplies. The army at his disposal was a vast one, ranks upon ranks of infernal guards and great mobs of hobgoblin slaves marched on driven by their master and the whips of the overseers.

If anyone dared to challenge them they would be shot and hacked to pieces, and this would be true if they had faced armies of man or green skins. However unknown to them all they had entered a land where no such races could rival its only masters. This was the realm of Ogre kin, where might made right and every inch of ground was fought and bled for.

After several hours on the third day after they had entered this part of the mountains scouts returned with news, great totems had been seen. These crude and somewhat crudely made altars of a unknown god stood tall. The scouts described how the bases of the altars had been littered with what seemed as offerings and trophies.
Gothmog summoned his cabal of daemon smiths and told them this, every war machine was to be prepared for battle and when they stopped to make camp a great sacrificial fire should be built to pray for victory in the battle they all knew would come sooner or later.
While these foul rituals where planed and undertaken at the cost of many poor and innocent souls the chaos dwarf feasted and engaged in ritual combat to show their brooding god Hastuth that his chosen race was preparing to make more glorious sacrifices to his name in the battle to come.

However they where not the only ones who was preparing to make war, half a days march away at the foot of Muspelheim the Ice maw tribe was gathering in their full might, although not the most numerous tribe their combined might was not to be underestimated. Each warrior was a seasoned fighter, and they where always eager for bloodshed.
The sermon was a world apart from what the deranged chaos worshippers where attending. Torches blazed and the sound of massive drums and deep rumbling horns could be heard from far away.

Miranda had been treated better than what her mind had imagined, it was not anything like the court of a king or a nobleman. But it was better than slavery and freezing out in the wild.
But her hair stood on edge and her blood froze when she was the gathering of might that assembled on the plain outside the camp where she had been allowed to rest.
She stood on the edge of camp, Greyskull had warned her about leaving it. She would not be safe away from it this night. Still she could see the shape of the old Tyrant and his closest warriors standing on a raised slab of stone, chanting alongside two other Ogres who seemed to be priests of sorts. And she saw Greyskull in all his terrible glory, he was illuminated by torches and stood alone on the centre of the ring while his tribe roared his name and chanted old battlehyms.

He seemed to revel in it but also to want to get away, he was clad in a massive suit of armour that encompassed his great frame, in one hand he clutched a sword and the other was formed into a clenched fist. His face was painted in a cobalt coloured war paint. The drumming and chanting seemed to reach a climax when she heard his harsh voice bellow out a great roar that seemed to shake the air. Around him other members of the tribe knelled and obviously payed him their respect.
With this the sermon seemed to reach its end, and the ring began to break open.

For Greyskull it all seemed like a dream, the constant chanting and gruff chanting of the shamans had sent his mind on a long journey in the spirit realm. His kinsfolk payed their respect to this figure that had joined their tribe. And brought proof of how cowardly their foes where. Yet they heeded his warnings about the sorcery and fiendish machines they used.
The ritual reached its climax when the old and grizzled Tyrant proclaimed him to be the one who succeed him should the old fall in battle. This was approved by the Jotun shamans that made up the rest of the tribal council. Now the time for vengeance was indeed close for the one who had spent months alone in the wilds and had returned triumphant.

Miranda too had been given honours, she had been granted the permission to arm herself in a ainchent suit of mail and take up the old but still razor sharp blade that had hung on the wall of their feasting hall for many, many years. She too would be given a chance at revenge.

Excellent writing as always.

You know, I kinda like Greyskull.

Plz make more! I love how this is going!

And Miranda... Will she turn out to be a fierce fighter, now finally given the chance?

Okay so this is the last chapter, I hope you all find it a pleasent read.


Chapter 13.

Miranda sat alone in the great tent she had been given to sleep and rest in. the memories of the ritual she had witnessed still played on her mind, she felt utterly helpless in this land of giants and beasts. She rose from her bed that where covered in greats furs, she wanted to melt away, to finally be free of all this. But even if she was free she was hundred of miles from home and alone.
Looking at the armour rack that had been placed here hours before she let a slender finger run across the metal breastplate and over the cold but surprisingly soft chain mail covered arms .

It was a true work of art, it glimmered in the low light of the fireplace as she shed her cloak and picked it up. No longer would she sit and wait for rescue, it was now she had a chance at securing herself help to making it home.
After some difficulty she managed to fasten the suit of armour. It was unlike anything she had ever worn before, it felt almost like a second skin except it was a bit more heavy than the regular cloths she normally wore. The only discomfort was that the person who had used before her clearly was smaller across the chest than she was but she managed to adjust the straps.
She then looked at the almost frightening razor of a sable she had been given. It was simply put a weapon that made her stomach churn, it had a long and slender blade that curved upwards slightly and the pommel and hand guard seemed to be made of something she could not recognize.

Whoever had crafted this blade clearly intended it to be a effective but rather intimidating weapon, that much she realised. Taking a few practice swings she felt reassured how it lay in her hand and that it was well balanced.
Now clad in armour and armed she took a deep breath, emptied the mug of beer that stood by her bed and walked out into the night.

In the meantime Greyskull was also preparing for the coming battle. He stood alone in the shadow of the great totem in the centre of the camp, he felt at easy here. All worries seemed to drop from his shoulders when he stood in its shadow. He had not taken the time to shed his armour, and still wore the war paint on his face. He longed for a real drink but no such things where to enter his body on the eve of battle.
His thoughts wandered from here to there, resting at no point in particular when he heard footsteps behind him, turning around he could smell her before he saw her, there that tiny human stood.

“It seems like I’m not the only one who cant sleep” she said, although no answer was expected she got one. A low rumbling laughter rumbled out from his chest and into the night. “ Aye woman I cant waste the night snoring” he said and turned away again.
“But what brings you here then girl?” he continued, “I don’t want to hide!I want to fight, I own that devil a bloody death” said Miranda with a glimmer of zeal in her eyes.

“I wont get in your way, I know how to handle a blade” she said and seemed to size Greyskull up.
He merely seemed ignore her, but eventually he replied while snow started to fall around the pair, “You seek revenge that I know and I wont stop you from following us into battle! BUT don’t except any help if you need it, you have been warned” the great Ogre said and walked of.

Miranda stood there fuming and in a act of frustration she yelled after her rather rude companion “Well you oversized slab of lard don’t expect any help either!”.




When morning broke it found the camp already bustling with activity. All its warriors where ready to march to war, and the few who remained behind would guide those who could not figth into the deep mountains.

They marched in grim silence, only broken by the chanting of the Jotuns, they where all ready to meet their foe now.
After hours of marching they reached the field where they would seek their revenge. On the far side of the plain stood the army that Gothmog in all its horrid splendour.
The ranks of the Infernal Guard stood silently and watched their foes, while the whips of the overseers cracked and drove the hobgoblins forwards.
The daemon smiths doused the war machines with blood and ashes. Their lord stood and watched as the opposing army came into sight.
A evil smile spread across his wrinkled face as he imagined the slaughter to come.
However had he known what watched him from up high in the mountain side he may have been less optimistic.

Greyskull walked at the front of the war host he had been given command over, he felt alive in a way he never had known before, but also the burning hate that had almost consumed him burnt fiercely in his veins.
Further back Miranda jogged to keep up with the Ogres, she felt scared but the thought of revenge drove her onwards. Her weapon seemed to call out for blood and she would soon sate its thirst.
Rough battle lines where drawn and the Ogres began to howl and beat their chests and shake weapons at their foe.

And so after months of suffering and bloodshed the battle between those who dwelled in these mountains, and those who seeked to tear them apart in the quest for riches and plunder.

The first to meet the wrath of the Ogres was the slave fodder, the green skins and other creatures where trampled and hacked down in countless numbers but they did what they where meant to, to slow their foes down.
Miranda found herself in a gory and blood drenched slaughter, she ran a screaming goblin true with her blade and hacked at a wolf that lunged for her throat. Both rider and mount lay dead in the snow while their slayer tried desperately to keep herself near the Ogres.

Soon none remained of the slave warriors that had stayed in the fight, the few that had survived fled heedless of their overseers or companions.
The two sides seemed to size each other up before a volley of cannon shot broke the short lived silence, great chaos dwarf cannons lobbed cannon balls over head and the response from the Ogre iron blasters shattered the air, with these opening tunes the two sides once again crashed into each other.

However this fight was far more brutal and blood soaked than anything before, Ogre cleaved dwarf and dwarf gutted Ogre. In the centre of this tempest of violence was Greyskull and the Jotuns, these immense warriors had formed a impregnable wall of muscle and iron and reaped a bloody harvest, return blows cut them but did not seem to trouble them.
They where the absolute best of their clan and now they proved why they had such a role.

But it was clear that this was not going to be a easily won battle, their foe was not afraid of death and was very well skilled in the use of axe and hammer.




Miranda barley managed to avoid a blow from a hammer and returned the favour with a swipe of her sable, the by now blood caked blade bit the dwarf but did not kill him, he stumbled back hands clutching his now ruined eyes. She drew breath and stepped up and drove the blade in his throat, blood gushed out and sprayed her face. The feeling no longer troubled her.

When her foe fell she looked around to see if she needed to defend herself and where if any Ogres where. Suddenly she was knocked to the ground by a hard blow to her shoulder, she was stunned by the force of the blow. And to her dread a dwarf came into sight, his gauntleted hands gripped a blood soaked mace that he swung in a practised manner. Her foe seemed to smile behind his mask as he stepped closer, but she managed to regain her footing and gripped her blade.
“Come on then you whore son” she yelled at him and teased him to come at her.
His blows where like the blows of a black smith hammering iron. But she managed to dodge most of them somehow although the ones that hit almost knocked her down.

As the two foes charged a each other again one of them saw something in the corner of her eye, a massive shape that came hard and fast. The dwarf saw it too but it was too late, the hammer blow of a set of massive paws hammered down on him, the shape was revealed to be the same Gouger that had carried her, the beast seemed to be blood crazed. It howled and bit down. It stood there for a moment before once again disappearing into the swirling battle that surrounded her.
“Where is that damned Ogre when you need him” she muttered to herself.
She ran onwards dodging blows and hacking at exposed flesh, soon she could her companion roar and bellow along his kinsfolk.

But when she was a mere stone throw away from them she saw something tht made her blood freeze. It was the old devil that had raped her and branded her all those months she had been his captive. He stood on a tall block of stone surrounded by a great number of dwarfs who fought to protect their lord from the blood crazed Ogres.

Gothmog was not pleased, the battle was evolving into uncontrolled mayhem. And the ordered lines of his infernal guard was slowly being broken apart by these.....brutes.
Just as he prepared to begin casting a spell several of the great brutes broke true the lines and came thundering for him, it was the heroic charge of his personal guard that stopped them.

He once again began to prepare to summon the fiery servants of Hasthut when a familiar voice found his ears. He turned around to see who dared to interrupt him, but to his dismay it was a familiar face.

Miranda had managed to slip past the final line of dwarfs when a large group of Ogres hit the line like a avalanche, she was god tired and she bled for several wounds but now was the chance to get even with that bastard that had ruined her body!

“Remember me you old pig! Thought you could worm away and live to pillage another day did you” she said and spun her sable in a loose circle.

“The gifts you gave me did not kill me” she continued and began to circle around Gothmog.
The old daemon smith grasped his axe and sneered at her, “Silence whore slave!” he roared and lunged at her. She dodged the first and second blow and parried the third.
Around them the battle reached a new phase, although the Ogres had suffered gruesome casualties they had devastated the dwarfs too. All their slave stock lay dead and the dwarf lines where broken in several places.

However this did not mater to the two facing each other on the tall bloodstained altar erected in aeons past.
Miranda jabbed at Gothmog with her sable and nicked his cheek, he roared and came at her hard with his axe leading the way.
As she dodged a vicious downwards sweep she stumbled and lost her footing. She fell hard down on the bloodstained stone. Gothmog grinned like a devil and closed in, he kicked the sable out of reach and pinned her to the ground with a heavy boot on her neck.
“Feel that you bitch! Feel the terror gripping your pitiful hearth!” he whispered in her ear and yanked her head up from the ground with a firm grip in her hair.

She felt despair set in as she was haul across the altar, then she felt something tapping against her leg, with one hand she felt on her boot. There she felt the handle of a hair needle meeting her bruised fingers. Just as she managed to pull it out Gothmog dropped her and turned around to look at her, in his left hand he clutched his axe.

He raised it to strike her, but just as he did a slight opening in his neck collar was exposed. And that was where Miranda lunged for, she threw all her hate, grief and rage in that final attempt at revenge.
The long needle pierced the skin like a sword cuts skin.
Gothmog stumbled backwards and reached for it, but seemed unable to grasp it or what had happened to him. Gurgling blood he slowly turned to look around him, to see all he had lost.
“DIE YOU OLD DAEMON!” Miranda howled as she picked up her former masters axe and brought it down with all her strength, the blade bit deep in his skull and sent blood and teeth flying.

When she had regained her breath she began to hack the head of the lifeless corps. When her grim task was done she stumbled to the very edge of the great stone and howled of all her might “BEHOLD! See your corrupted leader has fallen! Despair for death calls you scum!”.
At this sight the battle seemed to change from a battle to outright slaughterer, the few remaing dwarfs was hacked to pieces.
Miranda collapsed, her body and mind spent and now fatigue claimed her while the hoarse howls of the Ogers who still lived filled the air around her.

She did not remember much of the weeks that pasted. She could only remember bits and pieces later on when she sat by fire in the place she now called home. Greyskull had kept his word and brought her home, the towns folk had been scared witless by him. And none dared oppose him when he passed true the city gate.

For a number of years she lived in the town. Never did she tell how she had befriended such a creature or where she had come from.

Well done. I can see you're still having spelling issues, but not near to the extent that you were having. the writing is also flowing really well, and your grammar has improved considerably.

Your writing can only improve from here.

Thank you and I know I still have some issues with it. And I tried reading it out loud for myself, it actually worked

Doesn't it? I do that for every chapter.

A superb ending to the story.

Though it's a shame that died. I don't know why, but I usually root for the villains.

You think? I was rather unsure about the ending myself, so I thougth I just needed to post it and see the reactions it got from my fans, And yes. A real shame but I had several endings in mind and this one was what I felt fitted what I have told so far in this tale the best

Excellent all the way through. Well done.
This is why I like writing fiction, even though my fiction is the worst gak around.

That was fantastic Trondheim! Your spelling really got better towards the end! I liked the story over all from beginning to end. I would not change the ending either if I were you.

Aww thanks Rivet, much appriciated. And glad you liked it

SO MUcH WAS READ.... man this is good. I notice to make couple silly english mistakes with words that sound the same, but it doesnt draw back for me. You have good discription with nice flow. Excellent story mate! I also dig the fights.

Why thank you, and yes. English is not my native tounge but I do try to come up with decent stories still.

Trondheim wrote:Why thank you, and yes. English is not my native tounge but I do try to come up with decent stories still.

You do very good job. And honestly i feel your english is better than mine and i am a native english speaking person. Sad day indeed, but language has always hurt me.

Awsome mate.
Also, the ending leaves room for a sequel..

cormadepanda wrote:

Trondheim wrote:Why thank you, and yes. English is not my native tounge but I do try to come up with decent stories still.

You do very good job. And honestly i feel your english is better than mine and i am a native english speaking person. Sad day indeed, but language has always hurt me.

Well I dunno what to say to that really, thanks.

thenoobbomb wrote:Awsome mate.
Also, the ending leaves room for a sequel..

Hehe maybe, although I feel no need to create another such tale any time soon thou

Nicely finished, Trondhein! I quite liked the fact that, despite all the ornate armour and weapons etc, it was a humble needle that did for the dwarf.

I agree with thenoobbomb - sets up nicely for a sequel ... the stories that could be told about the woman who came to town with an Ogre!

It also tells she lives there tje firstvfew years. What bout the later years?