It was a lonely night. Cicadas sang in the darkness. Playing their music for anyone to hear. The night was cold. No fires burn. Torches smothered. Horses tamed. No one dares to make a move. Even the horse did not nigh. The stomping sound of footsteps echoed throughout the night. Armor clanking, grinding against each other. The noise of a marching resonated in the night. Unaware that they were about to put their armor to the test. Fifty-one knights were escorting a barons daughter. The daughter of a lord on a mission of significant importance. Rode in a carriage. Guided by fifty-one noble Knights. No one made a noise.
Nearby a hundred and one Orcs ready to plunder, rape and murder laid in wait. Under the bushes in the nearby trees, down the dirt path, anywhere thy could hide. Waiting for the signal the right moment to strike. They waited silently. They had no armor. They were too big for it, and they would dawn none even if they could, for it was a disgrace among them to wear even the simplest of armor. They showed pride in using nothing but their raw strength and weapons to crush, slash and hack their foe to death.
Nothing but the sound of cicadas and the harden steel plated armor ringed throughout the night. Guided by the light of the moon. They marched down a lone dirt path, a shortcut through the woods. A cloud blocking the rays of the moon causing the whole envoy to ground to a halt and wait for the cloud to pass. If there was a perfect moment to ambush. Now would be the time. To plunder, rape and kill. But the clouds pass by without incident. The envoy continued it's marched.
An Orc crouching behind a tree draped in darkness. Wait for the envoy up the road. Watching and waiting. It was entirely possible for the whole caravan to pass by without a fight.
A fierce wind assaulted the group of Knights but had no effect. But merely providing a gentle cooling breeze through their visor. Tree limbs were swaying back and forth. Reaving patches of darkness that was once a solid black to be bathed in the moonlight temporarily revealing the Orcs. Hiding under trees, bushes, and the thicket of grass. Waiting to pounce, the Knights saw them but did not turn to acknowledge them, but instead continued marching on as if nothing happened.
The older and more experience in the group stayed in the middle, closest to the baron daughter. The youngest and newest of the group was pushed out to the edge of the collum and the front. As was custom for the knightly hood.
That when the newest and youngest of the group, still had the breath of his mother tits saw the Orc, way up the road. The wind had blown his cover and showered him in moonlight yet he still did not move. The youngest of them, let out a shrill.
"Orc!" He screamed pointing toward the Orc up the road.
The orc up the road now felt the time was right. Stepping out of his spot, into the middle of the road, revealing his true form in the night pointed back.
"Attack!" He commanded letting out a booming, penetrating voice. The orc stood and watched the battle unfold.
If there was any sound that night, it was the cry of a hundred and one orcs as they charged, madly into the fifty-one plated Knights axes and halberds.
"Protect the Baroness!" Yelled a knight from the center of the group. The more experience Knight formed a protective bubble around the carriage and fought for their lives and the Baroness. Hacking and slashing back the Orcs. The other least experience knights were gang up on and pummeled to death.
It was a lonely night as the cicadas played their song. No one was listening.