Garba released the wedge and pressed against the winch. The solid, though crudely hewn machinery of stone and wood usually required the strength of two orc-women to begin the rotation and open the heavy gates. The warrior possessed exactly that much power. The mechanism made a grinding sound, and the soles of her feet left bloody prints on the floor. Two rotations around the axis and the helpless city lay open. She heard a roar, a cheerful battle cry from many throats, and shortly after, the characteristic sound of burning straw reached her. The Strong of the Krush clan began setting fire to the roofs of the buildings. Garba triumphantly, step by step, descended the steep stone stairs leading down from the watchtower and the ring of defensive walls down to the street. Some warriors greeted her as they ran, saluting with their weapons. Others were too busy searching for opponents. Garba herself also still planned to face a very special someone. The Queen....

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