A few more volleys of rifle fire was enough to convince the remaining orcs to flee rather than charge the now-unguarded gate. Meanwhile Foignar flew across the wall as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

"The ogre is past the wall!" he shouted. "We must defend his majesty! In the name of all honor and sanity we must defend the King!"

Foignar was forced to step over the body of a dead squire, a young lad of no more than 50, who had been torn apart by one of the bat demons.

Foignar expected the rifledwarves to fall into line behind him at the mention of the King, but he was joined only by Skongroli. The others stayed up on the wall, apparently still worried the orcs might try another attack in their absence.

What meaning did any of that have if the King was dead?

Foignar barreled past the eastern cannon and practically jumped down the stairs to get down to the courtyard. At the bottom of the stairs Aubrey caught up to him. Her long legs gave her a massive stride that allowed her to easily outrun him.

* * *

The King snored so loud that he woke himself up, but then quickly dozed back off.

* * *

Rarnak's eyes were bloodshot. His lips were curled in the wild grin of a lunatic. He was forced to crouch low in order to make his way through the low-ceilinged halls of the dwarves but this did little to impede his haste.

"Gus!" he screamed as he ran. "Gus the Tall Dwarf! You can't hide from me."

Rarnak still couldn't smell any magic. He was sure that when he was finally in the presence of his great enemy he would smell it. No one could disguise power like he had just displayed in the battle. No one.

Several civilian dwarves, their courage ignited by the presence of an enemy in the sacred halls, attempted to block his path. He crushed their skulls and tore off their limbs without meaningfully slowing.

Rarnak made his way directly to the throne room. If the Tall Dwarf wizard was anywhere he would be there.

* * *

One of the royal grooms burst through the doors of the throne room, so badly out of breath that he could barely push them open.

"The gate," he wheezed, falling to his knees. "The enemy is through the gate!"

He noisily began to try to catch his breath.

All seven members of the kingsguard, hand picked by the King himself for the fullness and glory of their beards, immediately took up a defensive formation around the throne. They raised their ceremonial silver axes at the ready while protected by their shining silver plate armor but most of all by the divine right of the King to rule.

"Do not worry," said Nondolir, the Lord of the Kingsguard, arguably the third highest ranking dwarf in Nalk Baland, "none shall pass while we still draw breath."

* * *

Rarnak pushed the doors of the throne room open with a causal ease and rose to his full height at last as he stepped through the archway.

One of the kingsguard elbowed the King, and he woke with a start.

"Where is Gus the Tall Dwarf?" demanded Rarnak.

"Ha!" laughed one of the absurd-looking silver clad dwarves, "*We will tell you nothing, monster. Defend yourself."

The big-talking dwarf punctuated his sentence with a heavy swing of his shining axe. It made contact with the ogre's tough, armor-like hide and the edge bent rather than cut.

The dwarf looked at his useless weapon and the full weight of his situation suddenly bore down on him.

The other members of the kingsguard charged, there wasn't much else they could do, but by that point the battle was a foregone conclusion. Punching with gauntleted fists, slapping with the flat of their blades, swinging the handle like a club, the kingsguard tried everything they could do find a way to damage the ogre. It was all useless.

One by one their bones were broken, their organs ruptured, their extremities removed. One member of the kingsguard had his head pulled straight off his body while he screamed in pain.

Rarnak laughed as the dwarven blood sprayed across his face and chest while he worked. His bloodshot eyes were wide with manic energy.

The King struggled to stand, but with no one to help him out of his golden armor there was nothing he could do.

Rarnak slowly approached the King, stepping over the bodies of his erstwhile defenders and leaving footprints of blood.

"No!" squealed the King. "No don't kill me! Not me! I'm innocent! I wasn't at fault! It was the tall dwarf, you said so yourself! He's the one you want! I'll help you find him! He's out on the wall with the others! I'll order him brought to you! It was him! Him and the warriors, they opposed you! I never! I had nothing to do with it! I'm just an innocent king!"

Allowing such a pathetic creature to rule them..., thought Rarnak.

"Don't worry little thing," said Rarnak. "I won't kill you now. Dying quickly in battle is far, far too good a death for one such as yourself. I give you my word of honor that I will not kill you until you beg for death. And you will beg. Mark my words."

Rarnak took another step forward, savoring the fear of his enemy.

"YOU! THANK THE GODS! HELP ME! KILL HIM!" shouted the King.

Rarnak looked behind him immediately.

* * *

Foignar, Skongroli, and Aubrey ran all the way through the halls to the throne room, where they found a terrifying sight. The doors were thrown wide open and the kinsguard lay dead, in pieces, strewn across the room. Their blood even stained the high up tapestries glorifying the great triumphs of the ancestors.

The ogre advanced on the King, menacingly.

"No!" squealed the King. "No don't kill me! Not me! I'm innocent! I wasn't at fault! It was the tall dwarf, you said so yourself! He's the one you want! I'll help you find him! He's out on the wall with the others! I'll order him brought to you! It was him! Him and the warriors, they opposed you! I never! I had nothing to do with it! I'm just an innocent king!"

Foignar suppressed the urge to spit. Aubrey put her finger to her lips to ask for silence. All three raised their rifles to aim. The first volley would cost them the element of surprise. They would have to make it count.

"Don't worry little thing," said the ogre. "I won't kill you now. Dying quickly in battle is far, far too good a death for one such as yourself. I give you my word of honor that I will not kill you until you beg for death. And you will beg. Mark my words."

The ogre took another step forward.

The King seemed to notice them at that point.

"YOU! THANK THE GODS! HELP ME! KILL HIM!" shouted the King.

The ogre turned around. Just like that they lost their one advantage. With nothing left to do the group fired wild.

Skongroli caught the ogre in his shoulder, and Foignar in the thigh. Aubrey's shot went wild and the force of it knocked her off her feet. She had far less experience with the weapon than the others and nothing to brace herself against.

Her bullet hit golden chalice and blasted it off its pedestal

Blood streamed from the wounds but the only effect they seemed to have was to amuse the ogre. His face twisted into the most horrific of smiles.

* * *

Yes! thought Rarnak. Blood. Blood is power. Blood is magic! The foolish dwarves have just given me the fuel for the spells that will kill them.

One dwarf struggled to reload his weapon, but the other simply threw his aside without breaking eye contact with Rarnak. He picked up one of the only intact silver axes from the bodies of the kingsguard and held it in an aggressive stance.

"Ygnailh. Ygnaiih!" chanted Rarnak.

The blood leaking from his wounds seemed to fly and twist in the air as though each wound was the handle of a whip. Rarnak lashed out with his bleeding arm and the blood whip went straight at the axe-wielding dwarf. Unprepared for an attack of this kind the blood was able to force its way into his open mouth and down into his lungs.

The dwarf dropped his axe and began to drown.

The other dwarf held his weapon like a club and tried to charge Rarnak while he must have assumed he was distracted with the spell. Rarnak easily caught the dwarf by the wrist, casually broke it, then tossed him aside. He looked down at his fallen foe and felt a small twinge of respect. That had been a hopeless attack, made for honor's own sake alone.

"Do not feel shame," said Rarnak. "You have proven your valor this day. For that I will gift you with a quick death."

* * *

Foignar lay on the ground, turning blue, fighting for breath. Aubrey struggled to reload her rifle with what she suspected was a broken shoulder. The ogre lifted his foot to crush Skongroli's skull.

A shot rang out. The ogre was struck in the back with a bullet.

All eyes in the throne room turned as one to the entrance. It was Gus, stood in the doorway, surrounded by a corona of gunsmoke.

It was enough for the ogre to lose concentration on his spell. Foignar immediately coughed up several pints of blood, which pooled all around him. Coughing and gasping he just barely

managed to catch his breath.

"You want to fight someone?" demanded Gus. "You can fight me."

He threw aside his rifle, thumped his chest with one fist, and then put up his dukes like a boxer.

The ogre smiled a smile dripping with condescension. It was obvious he understood despite the language barrier.

Gus charged the ogre and threw a highly telegraph hay-maker at it, which connected squarely with the monster's chest to no obvious effect. He followed this up with an equally useless three punch combination.

The ogre slapped Gus with one of its massive hands and he fall to the ground hard. Gus shook his head, spat blood, and carefully crawled to his feet. The ogre waited until he was standing before knocking him to the ground again with a backhand.

The ogre was playing with Gus.

"I'm only giving you one more free hit!" insisted Gus. "Then I'm going to get serious."

He stumbled to his feet again. This time the ogre grabbed him by his arm and, before he could react, flung him through the air to slam into the ground. Then the ogre pulled Gus back up again and slammed him once more.

Gus was only conscious for the first slam. One he realized his enemy was out cold the ogre tossed him aside like a rag doll.

"Don't you dare die yet, you fragile thing!" the ogre shouted down at Gus. "Don't you dare! I will not be finished with you for a long time."

He turned back to his conscious foes. Foignar struggled to stand, slipping and tumbling in the pool of blood that surrounded him. Skongroli lay dazed, waiting to have his skull crushed.

Aubrey was laying prone across the floor, pointing her weapon at him.

There was a crack of thunder, a plume of fire, and something struck the ogre in his right eye. He screamed in pain.

The ogre shook his head, sending droplets of blood everywhere.

He charged at Aubrey.

The ogre made it three steps, began to shake, then convulse, before finally collapsing in a heap on the ground.

Aubrey, already breathing hard, threw up. The vomit consisted entirely of half-digested mushrooms.

Foignar managed to get to his feet in spite of the blood. He ran over to one of the pedestals, grabbed the Holy Relic Keystone of Bridge of Saint Rem, and bashed the ogre's skull with it until it caved in on itself.

Then he intentionally fell back onto his butt.

Everyone in the room took a few moments to tentatively catch their breath.

"*Took you long enough,*" the King sneered, breaking the silence. "*Your king could have been killed! Have you no loyalty? Have you no honor? Pah! Now help us out of this gold armor, we can hardly move.*"

Slowly the group rose. Foignar and Aubrey picked up Gus and carried him out by his arms. Skongroli came along behind them.

The King was left screaming in his throne room, stuck in his heavy armor.