…continues from Book #01, Chapter #09, Scene #04

Synopsis

The 28th Day of Ches in the Year of the Sudden Journey
With the recovery of some of Altair’s Talons and requests from the Blackengorge Town Council, the party have set of for the east and to see the Nentir Vale for themselves. With an ox-led wagon laden with goods and a large travelling party, they set off with the well wishes of the townsfolk ringing in their ears.

After finding an old ruin along the way and a useful map they have managed to make good progress despite the attempts of undead and wolves to delay them. However, they now face a new problem, with a trap laid by orcs.

Cast List

Scene Length

This scene starts on Thursday 30th August 2012 and is expected to be completed by the end of Friday 21st September 2012.

Players are expected to be able to post at least once a day.

The orc holding the leashes appeared to be struggling with its charges. They were not hounds, Khalin saw that when he looked again, they were strange beasts, their faces like the gnolls they had seen in the ruin, hyenas probably. They looked vicious, regardless. Most of them were snapping their jaws now, drooling, and pulling hard on the leash.

‘Gozack!’ brayed the orc at them, holding them back, and for a moment they steadied themselves.

It looked as though the orc were waiting for something, keeping a tight rein on its beasts.

The archer, on the other hand, didn’t appear to want to wait. The orc behind the ropes already had its target set on Tradden, the youth slightly vulnerable up the tree. With a glint of a smile on crooked and stained teeth it let go of the bowstring.

The arrow thudded into the tree right next to Tradden’s head, burying itself in the wood.

Another orc with a drawn bow rose up out of the undergrowth to the northeast. This one aimed at Rangrim and let fly.

The arrow skidded into the undergrowth near the dwarf as Rangrim ducked down.

The bolt thudded into one of the first trees and the rogue ducked down behind the wagon with a curse.

From out of the trees near the rest of the pack of hyenas burst a hideous sight. It was similar to the other beasts, but was larger and more powerful, with black mottled fur. Its jaws were agape with steaming saliva dripping onto the floor where the leaves and steams of the bushes hissed and shrivelled where they were splattered.

It seemed to cough and bark to itself convulsively as it leaped effortlessly through the undergrowth.

It appeared to ignore Rangrim somewhat, bounding into the undergrowth at the other side of the trail from the dwarf.

From its maw it uttered a cackle not of this world, a low, hideous sound that broke and grew in violence as though it had come direct from the gates of the Abyss. All who heard it shuddered in fear.

Both Rhasgar and Zero looked as though they had seen a ghost, even the dragonborn's dark scaly skin appeared to whiten and his hands began to shake.

With the thud of a quivering bolt just behind it the orc nearest the wagon weaved expertly through the trees looking for the puny human with the crossbow.

It knew the human had disappeared somewhere behind the wagon, but where?

It looked from side to side, but not downwards, where the crouching Zero looked up in fear.

The orc it had left in the woods followed suit, but instead of rounding the wagon came alongside it, just below Kireth’s feet.

It reached up with powerful arms, trying to grab the mage’s feet.

Kireth slammed the butt of his staff down hard on the orc’s bony hand and it recoiled in pain.

Kireth wasn’t sure what horrors the orc saw before it, perhaps memories of a master whipping it as the mage noticed the scars on the beats back as it turned and held its head in a scream. He heard another scream from behind the wagon, another orc perhaps, and the throaty howl of the strange elemental beast — for surely that’s what it was — nearby.

Rangrim whirled around to face the strange blackened beast behind him that had let out such a fearful howl. He had seen Tradden was in a precarious position and that there must be an archer somewhere, but he couldn’t see it, so there was nothing he could do. However, he could confront the beast that drooled and thrashed before him.

The dwarf stepped confidently back towards the trail and twirled his twin hammers in anticipation.

‘Come on, ye bastard!’ shouted the dwarf and charged into the beast’s flank.

The hammer struck the beast on the rump and it tumbled into the undergrowth and away from the dwarf in a flurry of claws and fangs, catching the orcs surrounding the wagon with vicious-looking cuts.

‘Ye want more, eh?’ responded the dwarf as the beast picked itself up and growled back at him.

As the young fighter hit the ground between Khalin and Rangrim the wind went out of him. The eladrin chain — painstakingly repaired with care by Caldring — locked together in an all-too-tight embrace and for a moment Tradden thought he would pass out with the shock.

As he rolled he looked up, everything seemed to be passing by slowly. The smells of the forest were assaulting his throat, gulps of sickly-sweet pine like a draught of wine rather than a taste of air. Colours were vibrant too, the rich greens of the undergrowth thicker, brighter, and somehow more real. The boughs of the trees dark, brown and mottled in complex patterns and rhythms the youth had never seen before. Even the dusty trail, interspersed with the beautifully rounded cobbles, was a carpet of gleaming jewels of sand and gravel.

The wagon before him was intricately carved out of the most exquisite woods, layered one on top of another and fashioned into elongated curves that accentuated the look of both speed and majesty heightened by the pair of sleek black horses that were harnessed at the front. Atop the driving plate was an old man — a long white beard to his knees betraying his age — dressed in greens and browns of such magnificence they almost matched the distorted forest. He held out a white hand, an onyx signet ring with a crest upon it, reaching out for Tradden to climb up.

He began to reach out as the chain relaxed its grip and he found himself snapping back into the bleak tones of the pine forest, surrounded by his companions and rising to a stand with the momentum of his roll.

An orc brandishing a carved spear marched out of the undergrowth to the northeast bellowing order and pointing furiously at the wagon with the point of the spear.

‘Gachak! Gachak!’ it blared at the skulking orcs next to the wagon. ‘Dak! Dak!’ it stabbed, pointing at Kireth with the tip.

It came forwards itself, bounding onto the trail, closing in on the group.

As it closed in it brandished its spear once more, feathers and bones near its point jangling together as it was thrust in the general direction of one of the orcs. ‘Dak! Dak!’ it repeated.

The orc responded to its leader and made a grab for Kireth’s legs once more.

As before, though, Kireth’s staff came down hard on the orc’s hand and it withdrew with a snarl.

The spear-wielder made a snarl of its own and glared at the mage atop the wagon.

A cold fear overcame the mage. He had fought battles with powerful enemies before, but for a moment he felt this orc had the better of him.

The warlord’s attack caught in the undergrowth slowing the power of the swing. The orc easily knocked it aside.

The howl from the strange hyena had unnerved Rhasgar somewhat and he resolved that he would address that beast within the course of the combat. Khalin, however, had headed that way and he believed the warlord would handle that situation.

‘Rangrim, protect the wagon!’ the dragonborn shouted, before heading away from the wagon to confront the orc that seemed to be directing affairs.

Striking into the undergrowth, Rhasgar got a better look at the adversary before him. The orc was a little bigger than the rest, but still thin and covered with what appeared to be the marks of lashes and worse. It was an ugly brute, with a huge spear its only physical weapon, but the sheer terror of its face was somehow another. One eye had been cut or torn out, the scars and tissue left to bulge and rot in its place. Its flea-bitten leather jerking and filthy fur cloak did nothing to hide its hideous brutality.

With more vicious beast lurking in the trees Rhasgar had to offer what help he could to all of those around him. Raising his scimitar he made a show of the blade, calling upon Bahamut to steer his hand.

The blade fell on the orc, cutting it across the shoulder, and the warming energy that it seemed to released filled all of Rhasgar’s allies with a divine strength. These orcs were weak and could be beaten.

The dragonborn shouted at the orc, drawing its attention, trying to keep it focused only on him.

The orc’s eye seethed at the paladin. How dare it attack him, how dare it strike its body?

With yelps and growls from the edge of the trees the pack of hyenas was let loose by the beastmaster. Leather leashes were let go with a sharp, barked word and the beasts darted forwards.

They appeared to attack in pairs, the first two struck out towards Rhasgar with jaws outstretched. One took a direct route, the other circling around to the east and then striking through the trees.

The first one snapped at Rhasgar’s legs, trying to draw the dragonborn away from the orc.

Rhasgar turned to face it and swat it away with his shield.

The second hyena’s circling run gave it some advantage, though. As Rhasgar was busy with the first it snapped at him unawares from his flank.

It bit deep drawing a grimace from the paladin.

The second pair leapt out towards Rangrim, the first coming from the side and the second bulleting straight for him.

They snapped quickly, trying to maul the dwarf’s legs with their sharp bites.

They just managed to grab the legs of his armour though, without piercing the skin. The dwarf wheeled and swiped his hammer at them in frustration.

‘Get these bloody things off me!’ he shouted.

The beastmaster climbed out of the undergrowth and onto the trail, casting down the leashes and drawing a large flail.

It made a series of guttural screeches as the hyenas, their ears pricking up ready to obey any commands. They looked ready to move on a moment’s notice, yet seemed restricted in their actions due to the tangle of undergrowth underfoot.

The large orc twirled its flail, but for now seemed content to let the beasts do their work.

The archer behind the webs looked disgusted that its quarry had managed to escape so easily. The thought of shooting the human from the tree to fall to a grisly demise had, for a moment, lifted its spirits. Nevertheless, through the webs and trees it could see one of the dragon-kin moving forwards and this could be its next victim.

With slow and steady movements it clambered through the webs until it was free of their confinement.

It then took a steady aim on the dragonborn, hoping for a kill.

The shot thudded into the dragonborn’s shield, much to the orc’s disgust.

The second archer ventured forwards from the tree line.

The enemy were surrounded and hopelessly outnumbered by the hyenas and would fall quickly. The honour was in the number of kills, however, and the archer was keen to make his stake. It drew a number of arrows from its quiver and let fly with a quick volley.

The dwarves fared worst as the arrows thudded into their armour drawing grunts of pain.

Even around the corner of the wagon Zero managed to plant the bolt in the orc’s lower leg and it howled in pain, almost dropping to the ground as its leg gave way. A gout of bright red blood spurted from its leg, but the thing did not go down.

From the centre of the trail there was another low cackle as the blackened hyena began to open its jaws and spew forth a horrific noise.

The dwarves fared worst, something about the noise brought childhood terrors to the fore. Their weapon arm trembling more than it had some moments ago.

With brutish speed the beast then reared up at the plate of the wagon and snapped at Borik, a maddening gleam in its eye.

The orc with the bolt through its leg limped around the side of the wagon, obviously in pain, but fearful of the wrath it may incur of not following orders.

Behind it, to the west, many of the Talons were locked in a similar struggle with more orcs and for now the wagon was poorly defending by an aging dwarf and a puny human. Someone had shot it in the leg but the orc could not see the marksman. The hounds would see to him, it was sure. Perhaps they’d enjoy the brief chase through the trees until they bore down upon him and ripped his flesh from his bones.

With a wicked grin the orc reached up towards the puny human, extending a huge hand to grasp at Kireth’s legs.

The mage seemed to be tiring of the game and the staff banged down on the orc’s hand barely before it had reached the footplate. The hand withdrew with a snarl.

Whilst Kireth’s attention was focused on one orc, however, the one at the other side of the wagon took the opportunity.

The mage was too quick, however, and a spin of the staff — which would even have impressed Tradden — brought the butt down on the thing’s skull and it too withdrew.

The orc was knocked back as the bolt of force struck it in the face, but Kireth showed no mercy.

The second bolt followed the first, exploding in a shower of blood. Something kept the orc moving, though. Whatever words or orders the one-eyed orc had barked out seemed to follow the runner, even in the throes of death.

The orc’s filthy maw failed to connect with the mage, however, and it slid to the ground in silence.

For the moment the mage was satiated and used the energy to clear his mind of the one-eyed orc’s minor curse.

With a scowl across the battlefield at the one-eyed orc, Kireth shook off any hindrance.

Rangrim looked from side to side wildly at the thrashing teeth and snarls from the hyenas in the undergrowth next to the trail. There was no clear way for him to move.

‘I can’t get to the bloody wagon, Rhasgar,’ he shouted, swatting away one of the creature’s snouts with the flat of his hammer. ‘That mage seems to be in charge over there, let him handle the wagon, let me deal with these bloody dogs!’

Without waiting for an answer he feinted one way, then another, and then brought his hammer down on the side of the head of the hyena in front of him.

The strike was true and caught the hyena on the temple. Rangrim was so sure the beast would fall that he’d almost started moving forwards. The thing was hurt, badly, but it still stood, baring its teeth and preventing the dwarf from going anywhere.

‘By the Nine Hells!’ he exclaimed in frustration. ‘Rhasgar, we’re in trouble!’

There seemed a sudden shift in Rangrim’s cloak as he uttered a soft word and it seemed to gather weight.

‘Right then you miserable dogs,’ he addressed the hyenas with a scowl. ‘Come and get me!’

The enemies were pushed back from the fighter and the orc looked hard pressed against the wagon.

The one-eyed orc looked past the central melee and barked out orders to the orc near the wagon.

‘Kachak! Hakkah! Gorko magi, magi slako!’ came the guttural shouts.

The orc near the wagon, however, appeared to be too distracted by Tradden’s blades to heed the words.

With what seemed to be a curse the orc turned its attention back to the melee and Rhasgar before it. With a withering glare it tried to intimidate the dragonborn.

Not only did its glare not seem to take any effect it meant the orc lost concentration on its defences and Rhasgar took full opportunity.

Another curse blurted from the orc’s lips and it raised its spear in defiance. With a swift reversal it brought the point down, aiming towards Rangrim and uttered a monosyllabic command word. A blast of force erupted from the spear tip into the centre of the melee.

Tradden and Rhasgar were knocked off their feet in an instant, landing heavily on the ground, but Rangrim was made of stern dwarven stuff and tried to resist the barrage…

Through sheer determination he managed to stay on his feet, but it was the orc that seemed to be gloating now.

Rangrim didn’t waste any time acting on Khalin’s command with an impulsive strike at the hyena nearest him. The beast wasn’t expecting the dwarf to attack so quickly and was caught on its foreleg, the sound of splintering bone audible over the battlefield.

Rhasgar kept his own eyes on the one-eyed orc as he slowly rose from the floor.

He nodded at the orc in respect of its abilities, but perhaps not of its morals. He was wary now and had to ensure that he did not let his guard down.

He turned his head slightly to the left, the hyenas snapping and yelping at his flank. A wry smile covered his scaly face — they might not expect his next move.

He opened his mouth as if to shout an order, but instead of words of command there came a jet of cold blue lightning, as though the paladin were truly a dragon.

The lightning covered the beasts, sizzling the hyenas’ fur. One of the hyenas dropped to the ground, its fur charred and blackened. The other whimpered and yelped. The one-eyed orc shrieked in pain as the lightning coursed around its gouged eye socket.

The dragonborn was not finished, though, and swung his blade at the one-eyed orc before stepping back slightly to cover Rangrim with his shield.

The blade struck home and the dragonborn licked his scaly lips.

The hyenas had suffered at the hands, or at least breath, of Rhasgar and were keen for revenge. Two of them were close by and snapped out with vicious attacks.

The dogs tore at the dragonborn’s flank, one ripping a large cut in his scaled thigh.

The remaining hyena, having being pushed back by Tradden’s earlier assault fixed its glare on the young fighter’s prostrate body and leapt into the fray.

Poised above the boy it mauled his sword arm with savage ferocity.

The eladrin chain protected Tradden’s arm, though, the links sealing together to provide an impenetrable barrier.

With its hounds swarming the enemy the beasts’ master strode slowly and surely towards the melee, a dark flail in its hand.

Whilst the puny human on the floor had his attention turned by one of the hyenas, the beastmaster struck down with the flail.

Even with the hyena tugging at his arm Tradden had the wits about him to roll and dodged the flail that would have surely split his skull. The thin face of the beastmaster, covered with scars and welts, scowled down at the young fighter and raised its flail ready for the next opportunity to strike.

‘Borko, borko!’ shouted one archer to the other, pointing desperately at the group and opening its fist with fingers erect. The other archer nodded and notched its arrow. It let fly.

The arrow hit Rhasgar squarely in the chest and he staggered backwards onto the trail.

There was a cry of victory from the archer and a nod to its partner who let fire with a volley of its own.

There was no cheer from the archers after the volley, however, as only one of the arrows found its mark.

The bolt skimmed through the air and caught the hyena in the side unawares. It let out a yelp and scanned the tree line for the archer, but could see no movement.

The contorted hyena-beast growled at the prostrate Tradden, not being used to being pushed about. It snapped its jaws, drool flying into the undergrowth where the vegetation fizzed and blackened. Slowly and surely it made its way through the plants and bushes with only one thought on its mind. Revenge.

Tradden started to squirm and roll ready for the beast’s advance but it took its time, waiting for the right moment before attacking.

The jaw bit deep as the beast clamped down on Tradden’s leg and wrenched it from side to side. It let go and the pain subsided only to be replaced by a sharp stinging sensation that would not go away.

For once the beast did not howl, though, and at least those that had been affected by the unnerving call composed themselves.

The orc nearest the wagon appeared to be in two minds. It had been pushed against the side of the wagon by the youth that was now splayed out in the undergrowth — one that had a weapon trained on it. Yet it had been given orders. Which did it fear more; the prostrate youth with the sword or its own master?

Years of subjugation won out and the creature turned back to the wagon to follow its master’s heed and looked to attack the mage.

Tradden was not unaware of the orc’s intentions, however, having moved into a position ready to defend the wagon. Even as he was being mauled by the hyenas and dodging a wicked flail lunge all from the confines of the forest floor, he still managed to thrust out his sword as the orc clambered up the wagon with his back turned to him.

The blade bit deep into the orc’s ankle and it let out a scream before continuing its assault on the wagon and those upon it.

Kireth felt a bony hand grab the folds of his robe and manhandle him roughly. Anger burned up inside. He could feel the hands pulling him away but firmly kept his poise.

Both bolts crashed into the orc and with a sickening gurgle it fell to the floor at the side of the wagon, its hand clutching the mage’s robes until the last.

The bolt thudded into the side of the cacklefiend, but the creature hardly seemed to notice, all its intent focused on the prostrate youth before it.

‘Get to the bloody wagon,’ Rangrim muttered as he swung his hammer out in front of him to ward off the snapping beasts. ‘Can’t bloody move from here for a start.’

The folds of the dwarf’s cloak seemed to have returned to normal — the impact of the one-eyed orc’s thrust being diverted for a moment by its previous rigidity.

‘Sort that one-eyed freak out, Rhasgar!’ the dwarf bellowed. ‘I’ll get rid of these hounds. Then we can get to the wagon.’

He pushed his hammer at the snapping face of one of the hyenas, daring it to strike back.

Rangrim cheered as the hyena went down, kicking the lifeless body for good measure.

‘Bloody thing,’ he barked out turning about to see what else he could strike out at.

He noticed Tradden squirming on the floor with hyenas and an orc above him.

‘First it’s trees, and then it’s the floor. Get up, lad! If you hadn’t noticed we could do with some help!’

Turning back to the melee he continued to grumble. ‘Do it all yourself, Rangrim.’

With another clever thrust he dodged a snarling bite from another hyena and smacked it squarely on the side of its head.

‘Right!’ shouted the dwarf. ‘Who wants more, eh?’

As Tradden squirmed on the floor the pain from his leg increased. It seemed as though something was biting away at his flesh.

The one-eyed orc looked upon the battlefield with a thoughtful stare. It had lost some of its party, but a pair of lame orcs and hounds were no real loss, they could be replaced. Time to pick off the feeble and wounded of the enemy, though, before too many losses were incurred.

An order was barked out towards the beastmaster and a nod given in reply. The single eye then glared down upon Tradden.

As the eye glared out a shimmering radiance covered the beast and it yelled out in surprise.

‘Kocha!’ yelled the one-eyed orc, trying hard to mask the pain, and the beastmaster raised its flail.

This time the beastmaster made no mistake and the flail struck Tradden with almighty force, the impact worsened by the fact the young fighter still had to keep the drooling cacklefiend at bay.

That eye, though, kept on moving across the battlefield, and the orc focused on the dragonborn.

Rhasgar shrugged off the odd sensation and readied himself for his own manoeuvre.

Before Rhasgar could react, however, the orc backed off down the trail towards the archers.

As the dwarf’s hammer crashed into the orc it barked out a command and the hyena snapped at Khalin’s ankles.

The hound clamped down on the dwarf’s lower leg.

The orc seemed to laugh off the challenge, his confidence and focal point now stretching to something else…

Rhasgar could see the tide finally starting to turn. Many of the hounds were left strewn around the undergrowth and the orcs attacking the wagon had been dispatched by the mage.

He took a moment to gather his wits and strength.

His head seemed to clear and strength coursed back to his sword arm.

‘By Bahamut’s honour we will prevail on this day!’ he shouted and a clear radiant light shone out from his scimitar.

The light bore strength and speed to the group’s attacks.

With a call from the beast’s handler the hyena was up and off in an instant, fleeting into the tree line. As it moved away Khalin roared and took a swipe at its rump.

The hammer cracked down onto the beast’s backside but it limped off nonetheless into the forest, skirting around until it was on the trail to the southeast of the wagon.

It gathered speed as it slipped out of the trees with only one target in mind.

The hyena leapt up onto the wagon and Kireth took the full brunt of the creature’s weight. For a moment it looked as though he might topple from the wagon.

The mage tried to steady himself but the momentum of the hyena was too much and he toppled off the wagon landing on his back into the dirt behind.

The orc handler flashed a wicked grin at the fighters that were besieging it. With a feint of its mighty flail it started to step back.

Tradden’s blades were on it in a flash, however, his stance not allowing the orc any time before they cut into its flesh.

The twin blades cut a large gash along the orc’s face and it snarled back at the youth before backing away.

Tradden wasn’t about to let it escape, though, and struck out once more.

This time the orc was quicker and moved off into the trees.

The two dwarves tried desperately to land blows with their hammers on the fleeing orc.

Khalin managed to connect but the thing managed to continue its flight into the trees.

It then appeared to change direction, coming around to its left and with a shout at the archers and the hideous blackened hyena it charged straight at the dirt-bound mage.

No sooner had Kireth hit the dirt than his vision blackened as the orc crashed into his midriff with a heavy blow.

On the command of the beastmaster the pair of archers let fly at the small group that were so conveniently clumped together.

The volleys took their toll, with both of the dwarves and Tradden caught in the flurry of missiles.

The bolt thudded into the hyena’s rear and before it could react to Zero’s risky attack it collapsed to the floor. The orcs appeared not to have noticed the black shape move out and then back into the trees, but the cacklefiend hyena’s ears pricked up and its muzzle turned round to scan the tree line.

The blackened hyena seemed to steam in the undergrowth, its drool drawing hisses and splutters from the plant life beneath it and a thin cloud of noxious vapour. Tradden’s blades, arcing from side to side, drew patterns in the steam and eventually nicked cuts and scratches from the beast.

The creature howled and hissed back at the fighter before turning abruptly and leaping for the wagon.

The strike opened up deep wounds in its hind legs. In an instant the beast almost seemed to explode. A gout of fizzing liquid, noxious smelling and fizzing burst out of the beast in all directions, covering and burning anyone close.

With a snarl the beast turned back and snapped at the dazed youth.

Khalin had already started moving towards Tradden, the outcome of the beast’s ferocious attack fairly clear in his mind. The burly dragonborn too edged quickly towards the youth with his shield out raised.

The cacklefiend snapped down on empty space as the young fighter disappeared into thin air.

The first bolt pushed the orc further into the undergrowth.

The second bolt slammed into its chest and sent it back against a tree.

The third bolt ploughed a hole through its chest and nearly tore the tree apart.

The beastmaster looked down in surprise at the gaping wound and then fell forwards, flat on its face, into the bushes.

Rangrim had flinched backwards involuntarily when the cacklefiend had seemed to explode.

‘Bloody hells!’ he exclaimed when Tradden had started to sizzle. The youth then disappeared as the hyena tried to finish him off and popped back into existence further up the trail.

‘Bloody show off,’ the dwarf continued. ‘Well if that lanky streak doesn’t make a good meal, then try me for size!’ he shouted at the blackened form before charging towards it.

He stopped a little short with a grin on his face and dodged from side to side, twirling hammers as he did so, taunting the beast.

‘You can’t eat me if I’m all dissolved you stupid mutt!’ he called before swinging the hammer down on the side of the beast’s head.

The crack rang out across the forest trail as the hyena’s skull succumbed to the blow. Fizzing ooze slid out of a gash, but the thing managed to stay on its feet.

Tradden’s skin and clothes continued to steam and sizzle as the acid ate into them. The pain was becoming excruciating. As he looked up he could see the archers and the one-eyed orc glaring at him. Maybe he wasn’t in such a good position.

The searing pain subsided as Tradden moved in on the orcs.

The one-eyed orc stared at Tradden, not quite believing the youth had managed to cover distance in the blink of an eye. It barely had time to put up any defence against Tradden’s whirling blades.

The blades kept the orc on its back foot slicing across its chest and it looked across to its comrades for assistance.

However, they too looked to be pressed with the fighter’s blades and were in no position to follow the one-eyed orc’s instructions.

The thing growled and hefted its spear, thrusting it out at Tradden.

The cuts on the orc seemed to close before Tradden’s eyes when the spear bit into the young fighter’s leg.

It then looked for somewhere to go, out of the way of the human’s blades, but there was nowhere obvious. It couldn’t afford to take its eye of the warrior, so moving into the undergrowth or through the ropes was out of the question. It decided to stay — it would finish off the youth itself.

The orc collapsed under the mighty blow, but as a last hurrah it shouted at the archers and thrust its spear towards its tormentor.

The spear punctured Khalin’s arm, just above his shield, and the one-eye smiled at the dwarf as it slid down onto the ground.

‘Rangrim, keep that beast pinned down,’ shouted the dragonborn at the dwarf. ‘The rest are falling, victory is surely ours!’

The dragonborn then cast a steely gaze at the chaotic beast, pointing his scimitar towards it, daring it to attack any other than he.

Rhasgar then placed a scaly hand on the dwarf’s shoulder uttering a prayer to Bahamut. Rangrim felt warmth and strength flooding into him.

The dragonborn then turned around to view Tradden and Khalin, the pair confronting what was left of the orcs. He could see the young fighter was still shaken.

‘Have no fear, Tradden’ he started. ‘Strengthen your arm and defeat your foes.’

With Rhasgar’s words the fear from the orc’s one eye lifted from the youth.

The archers seemed to shed no tear as the one-eyed orc fell, they simply acted on its last words.

The first of the pair quickly stowed its bow over its shoulder and took off towards the webs.

‘Somebody stop it!’ shouted Khalin, but it was too late, the creature clambered through the ropes with ease and appeared to set off own the trail at speed.

It could still be seen further down the trail, but then instead of the expected flight to the east it turned sharply and plunged into the tree line to the southwest.

It disappeared within the trees, hard to spot, but could be heard crashing through the undergrowth.

The second orc looked to act too, but first had to deal with Tradden’s blades. They whirled and cut through the air and there was no escape.

Escape it tried, though, and it too backed off towards the webbing.

Tradden was on it in an instant.

The cut was vicious and drew a long line of blood along the thing’s thigh. It was undeterred though, and managed to limp off towards the ropes, getting some small cover.

It then turned and raised its bow, aiming at the hapless pair on the trail. It unleashed a volley of arrows.

One splattered into Tradden’s shoulder opening yet another bloody wound. The other struck Khalin squarely in the chest and with a gurgle the dwarf sank to the floor.

The bolt thudded into the wooden side of the wagon. The cacklefiend seemed oblivious, concentrating on its own thoughts.

The blackened hyena’s ears remained pricked up from the moment that it had heard the twang of Zero’s crossbow to the moment the beastmaster and the one-eyed orc had fallen. The last orders of the one-eye were clear in its inhuman mind and it would carry them out to the letter, regardless of its own safety.

First it steeled itself against the deep cut that the dwarf had opened over its skull. Then it ignored the dragonborn’s shouted challenge and even the twin hammers of the dwarf before it and leapt up lithely onto the top of the wagon.

Rangrim was ready for any flight, however, and struck quickly.

The hyena was too quick for the dwarf and the hammer thrashed into the undergrowth behind it.

For a moment the beast was confused — the wagon was laden with several goods and sacks and chests. However, in seconds the beast honed in on its prize, its radiance obvious to its nature. It briefly considered snapping at the old dwarf hiding at the front of the wagon, but that would waste valuable time. Clenching a sack in its dripping jaws it leapt down once more and sprinted off towards the trees with the prize.

It disappeared within the tree line in moments, the only clue the crashing and splintering of undergrowth under its bulky frame.

The headache caused by the dwarf’s blow would not go away, however.

The cacklefiend appeared to have managed to slipped out from under Rangrim’s nose and the dwarf’s demeanour showed it. He whirled about looking for the thing but couldn’t spot it easily in the trees.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he spotted Khalin slumping to the ground and knew that help was required. He sprinted across to the prostrate dwarf and lanky friend as fast as he could.

The scene didn’t look good. A wicked black arrow jutted out of the warlord’s chest and the dwarf was barely breathing.

‘By the Nine Hells, Rhasgar, get yer arse over here,’ Rangrim shouted looking up for the perpetrator. He spotted the orc smirking in the tangle of ropes.

‘Right, ye bastard, have some of this!’ he called and charged headlong into the webbing.

The blow nearly knocked the orc down, but it managed to grab the ropes to steady itself.

Tradden’s guess as to where the enemy were was spot on — he saw them both for the merest of seconds, the movement of the foliage betraying their positions. Interestingly, that wasn’t all that appeared to be hidden in the woods.

‘Traps!’ he called out whilst barrelling into the large dog thing, ‘man traps in the bushes!’

The sword plunged through the beast’s hide and it crashed into the undergrowth with its last exhale of steaming breath. The sack it carried rolled out into the brush.

The dwarf lay still on the ground, perhaps not even breathing. Blood trickled slowly from around the shaft of the arrow and from the corners of his mouth.

His skin started to turn a whiter shade of pale.

On Rangrim’s shout Rhasgar ran over to the bloodied body of Khalin.

The wound looked bad, but Rhasgar had seen worse. He muttered words of encouragement to the dwarf, interspersed with prayers to Bahamut.

Khalin’s eyes fluttered open and he spat a gout of blood onto the floor. With a furious snarl he snapped the arrow’s shaft with his hand before reclaiming his warhammer.

‘Take it steady,’ advised the dragonborn. ‘You’d be better waiting here.’

With that, Rhasgar looked up, away to Rangrim, and ran off towards the webbing.

He baulked at the webbing, unable to swing his scimitar effectively at the archer after the sprint, but he knew it wouldn’t be able to get away without turning its back.

The first of the orc archers gulped as the human with the two swords charged towards it, but was relieved to see the man swerve at the last minute to avoid the animal traps. He had thrust one of his blades through the cacklefiend — a mighty beast in the orc’s lowly opinion and it was saddened to see its demise.

However, it had a job to do, and grabbed the tumbling sack as quickly as it could. The rough sack caught on some of the brambles and the orc had to yank quite hard to pull its prize free. It came up with a tattered shred of the sack surrounding a bronze orb. Stuffing the thing in the crook of its arm it took off, this time back towards the east.

It disappeared down the slope, sprinting along the trail.

The remaining orc, beset by Rangrim and Rhasgar, appeared to panic and turned and fled. The two Talons struck almost as one.

It was Rhasgar’s scimitar that cast it down, cutting through a couple of the ropes at the same time.

There were none that he could see, but he felt uneasy about the whole set up and decided to keep his feet still for the moment.

The young fighter disappeared off down the trail.

He was quickly through the ropes, picking off the thinnest section of the false webbing.

The scribe, looking harried and sweaty after battling orcs further up the trail, sighed, but followed Khalin’s orders, trotting down the trail quickly, puffing as he came.

The scribe passed Kireth and the mage let out a smirk as he went by.

The rogue was hot on the heels of the disappearing Tradden, following the fighter down the slope.

The mage moved with grace onto the trail, the top of Zero’s head just visibile further down.

Khalin joined the pursuit.

The last of the chasing pack, Beltak followed Khalin.

With a wave to the remaining party he too disappeared down the trail.