The Last Stand at Dawn’s Pass

I’ll never forget the cold air biting my face that morning. Dawn’s Pass wasn’t much to look at—just a narrow valley, flanked by jagged cliffs that seemed to go on forever. But to us, that pass was the last line of defense between a peaceful village and an orc warband looking to raze it to the ground.

We were outnumbered. Badly. My companions and I had faced dire odds before, but this? This was the kind of battle that made you question your life choices.

Trixie Sparksprocket, our gnomish illusionist, tapped me on the arm. “You’ve got a plan, right?”

I snorted. “Of course. It’s just... evolving.”

Brogg Ironfist, our ever-loyal dwarven warrior, adjusted his helmet and grunted. “As long as the plan involves smashing some orc heads, count me in.”

Eryndil, our elven ranger, knelt by a patch of frost-covered grass, tracing his fingers along the tracks left by the advancing warband. “They’ll be here within the hour,” he said, standing and slinging his bow over his shoulder. “If we’re going to make a stand, we need to do it now.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Alright, here’s the plan: Trixie, you’re on illusions. Make them think we’re an army of fifty. Brogg, you and I will hold the center. Eryndil, pick them off from the cliffs.”

Trixie grinned, her hands already glowing with arcane energy. “I like it. Let’s make some magic.”

We set up our defenses quickly. The narrow pass worked to our advantage, forcing the orcs into a bottleneck. Trixie conjured phantom soldiers—tall, armored warriors whose shields gleamed in the morning light. To the orcs watching from afar, we must’ve looked like a small army ready for war.

The ground trembled as the warband approached. I could hear the thudding of boots, the clash of weapons, and the guttural war cries of the orc chieftain. My heart pounded, but there was no turning back now.

“Hold the line!” I shouted as the first wave of orcs charged.

Brogg let out a battle cry and swung his warhammer, sending the first orc sprawling. I parried a blow with my sword and retaliated with a quick slash across my opponent’s chest. To my left, Trixie’s illusions wavered but held, confusing the orcs as they tried to distinguish real from fake.

Above us, Eryndil’s arrows rained down, each shot precise and deadly. The orc chieftain roared in frustration, unable to break through our line.

But it wasn’t easy. Sweat dripped down my face as I fought off wave after wave of attackers. Brogg took a hit to the shoulder, but the stubborn dwarf barely flinched. “Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, slamming his warhammer into another orc’s chest.

I could feel my arms growing heavy, but giving up wasn’t an option. “Trixie!” I called out. “Anything else up your sleeve?”

“Working on it!” she yelled back, weaving another spell. Moments later, a blinding flash of light erupted from her hands, disorienting the orcs long enough for us to push them back.

Just when I thought we couldn’t hold any longer, Eryndil’s voice cut through the chaos. “Their leader! Take him out, and the rest will fall!”

The orc chieftain towered over his soldiers, wielding a massive axe that glinted in the dawn’s light. He barreled toward me, knocking aside anyone in his path.

“Brogg, with me!” I charged, sword raised. Brogg roared and followed, his warhammer swinging in deadly arcs. The chieftain’s axe came down hard, and I barely managed to block it. Sparks flew as our weapons clashed, the force of the blow numbing my arms.

Brogg seized the opening, slamming his warhammer into the chieftain’s knee. The orc howled in pain and staggered. With a final surge of adrenaline, I drove my sword into his chest.

The chieftain fell, and for a moment, everything was silent. Then, as if on cue, the remaining orcs turned and fled, their morale shattered.

I dropped to my knees, breathing heavily. “We did it,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

Trixie ran up, grinning despite the dirt smudged across her face. “I knew you had a plan.”

Brogg chuckled, wincing as he clutched his injured shoulder. “Next time, maybe a plan that doesn’t involve me getting hit?”

Eryndil smirked, lowering his bow. “Where’s the fun in that?”

We stayed there for a while, watching the sunrise paint the cliffs in shades of gold and crimson. The village we had sworn to protect lay safe behind us, untouched.

As we made our way back down the pass, I couldn’t help but smile. We had faced impossible odds and come out victorious. And if anyone ever doubted the story, they could come to the Emerald Canopy Cabaret and hear it straight from me.