It was torture, unbearable.
The sound of silence echoed in the hall, settling on the anticipants like a
thick blanket. It weighed on the dwarven soldiers heavier than the any armor. No one dared to move, for even the slightest
of shifts sounded like an avalanche in the royal hall. Barolf swallowed. His
throat was dry and his breathing heavy. Sweat streamed down his skin beneath the
armor he wore and his muscles ached. He wasn’t the only one, either. His
comrades stood beside him, breaths heavy while they clutched their weapons and
shields. The city had fallen quickly, faster than anyone had expected. Only the
castle remained impenetrable against the invasion, although Barolf was not sure
how long it would remain so. He and his platoon had barely managed to retreat
to the great hall, the invaders’ breath hot on their heels. They huddled
against each other behind hastily built barricades, eyes fixed on the massive
barred double doors, waiting. Even the royal hall’s statues of past kings
seemed watching the entrance in silent anticipation.
The
first slam startled the soldiers, strong enough to buckle the iron-barred doors.
Barolf snapped back to the present and he tightened his grip on his sword. His
helmet chafed and his heart was pounding. Another slam shook the giant doors,
the massive blow ringing louder and more powerful this time from the
surrounding stone. Barolf licked his dry lips as he watched wood and metal bend,
the doors spitting splinters like broken teeth. A new impact followed almost
immediately, whatever assailing the entrance seemingly having realized it was
giving way. Barolf’s eyes spread as the third impact snapped the thick bar
holding the doors closed like a dry branch.
“Hold
your ground, shield-brothers! This is where we stand and fall! They will not
get through!” the commander ordered, a command Barolf barely heard. His
heartbeat filled his ears and he was frozen in place, his attention fixed on
the entrance that was now cracked open. He had every reason to be worried, as a
second later the doors began to open. The crack spread painfully slow and
Barolf’s mind went cold from what he saw.
An
immense form revealed itself behind the doors. Vaguely humanoid in shape, its
massive arms worked the entrance open with effort. A huge head pushed
through the opening, its visage skull-like and bestial. The head could barely
fit between the doors where five dwarves could stand shoulder to shoulder. The
monstrosity’s face drew into a hideous snarl as it eyed the huddled defenders, filling the royal hall with a guttural growl.
The
commander bellowed and a row of dwarven cannons before him opened fire. The weapons
roared and the monster’s head exploded in a cloud of fire, taking the full force
of the attack. The beast toppled and its massive body disappeared from the open
doorway. An instant later smaller black forms burst through the entrance, a
wave of creatures with wicked claws, sharp teeth and gleaming red eyes flooding
in and at the group of soldiers. One could still make out their dwarven
features, now hideously malformed. They moved with shocking speed as the
monsters spilled into the hall, growling, snarling and howling in their
mindless bloodlust.
The
wait was over, Barolf thought as he and his comrades braced for the impact.
Writer's comment: This is a little something I wrote a little while ago. I wanted to create an atmosphere of tense anticipation that ends with with explosive action. I hope you enjoyed reading!
