…continues from Book #01, Chapter #09, Scene #06

Synopsis

The 28th Day of Ches in the Year of the Sudden Journey
The group have chased down an orc that stole some of their goods from the wagon along the Old Road, but have come across a small orc stronghold where they are launched into combat.

Cast List

Scene Length

This scene starts on Thursday 20th September 2012 and is expected to be completed by the end of Friday 5th October 2012.

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

It caught the orc in the throat and it went down immediately with a gurgled scream. Zero casually slipped forwards into the low-hanging branches of the tree and disappeared within their shadow.

The archer on the porch switched his aim from the main group to Zero and Kireth and back again. It looked undecided as to which to aim for. When Zero slipped away it snarled and targeted the main group once more before letting fly with a flurry of arrows.

As tightly packed as they were, one of the arrows had to hit one of the group. Khalin was the unlucky one, another arrow cutting across his arm.

The craghammer cracked skull and ribs as the warlord unleashed a powerful blow, and the orc dropped to the floor in an instant.

From around the tree in the eastern part of the clearing charged a large orc, growling at the party with a wide blade above its head. It seemed to only have one target in mind, pounding its feet towards the entrance to the clearing.

It scanned the pair at the entrance and elected the one holding two swords as the one to face its wrath.

It brought the great sword down in a huge sweep, but Tradden managed to dodge it with a nice side step.

Beltak looked across at Tradden and the advancing orc, but the young fighter seemed to be somehow enjoying himself and seemed more than capable. The flurry of arrows had been worrying Beltak more.

‘We need to take out that archer!’ he cried, almost surprising himself in his forthright manner.

With that he advanced, holding out his holy symbol before him.

The scribe positioned himself just behind Khalin before letting out a searing lance of radiant energy from his symbol, aimed squarely at the archer.

The beam struck the orc and it recoiled, opening up a target for Khalin to exploit.

There was a cry from the east and northeast of the clearing, followed by howls and grunts in return. One by one a number of orcs charged towards the group, short but sharp hand axes held above their heads.

The first to appear was a lean orc, with great scars across its temples running down over its shoulders. It appeared from behind the tree and charged across towards the group.

The second was squatter, but bore similar scars. It charged with its mouth agape, showing rows of decaying splintered teeth, coming around the corner of the shack.

The last was also lean, and greyer than the others. It covered the ground quickly, though, bursting through the tree and catching up quickly.

An orange ball of flame exploded next to Khalin, nearly knocking the dwarf off his feet. The warlord managed to protect Beltak as best he could as the flames spread out with a concussive force. Part of the building’s porch caught fire as the flames engulfed the orcs.

When the noise of the blast and the flames died down two of the orcs had fallen, their bodies turned a crisp black. The pair on the porch howled with pain as they patted small flames out on their jerkins. Khalin was singed, but not badly hurt, and Beltak had been spared any flames by the dwarf’s shield.

Kireth smiled.

The orc on the porch roared as it attempted to pat out the flames on its jerkin. It bounded forwards in fury, almost heedless of any consequences, as though it had been let out of a cage to vent its anger.

It moved towards Khalin, to his flank, winding the huge flail up in long arcs, and then brought it down against the dwarf and the scribe behind him.

Both strikes hit hard, Khalin faring the worst as the metal flail smashed into the side of his head, nearly dislodging his helm and drawing a thin trickle of blood that dripped into his beard.

Although many of their allies had been consumed in the mage’s flames, more of the orcs poured forwards from behind the shack. They were ragged things, scars and welts covering their bodies and temples, but looked aggressive, holding wicked hand axe aloft.

The first to advance came slowly down the western side of the shack, stepping over the fallen body of its comrade, the bolt in its neck still quivering. It looked about for the archer, but could not see him, and instead progressed warily towards the mage that had caused the conflgration.

It wasn’t looking for Zero any more, but as it approached Kireth it almost tumbled over the rogue and almost looked as startled as Zero himself.

From behind the shack to the east two more of the beasts appeared, perhaps braver than the others considering they had not witnessed Kireth’s power. With axes aloft they picked targets and charged straight at them.

The first of the new pair slammed into Beltak, knocking the wind out of him.

The second attempted the same with the young fighter, but Tradden just blocked the clumsy swipe with his shortsword.

A further creature appeared behind the tree, another orc, laden with vials and pouches upon a leather belt.

This one seemed to be positioning itself, weighing up the opponents, and getting ready to strike.

The shot was wild as Zero panicked and the rogue left himself open to the counter. The orc didn’t hesitate to take up on the offer.

The orc was over-eager and the swing caught on a low limb of the tree, chopping off the branch which landed squarely on the rogue’s foot.

The archer on the porch looked singed and burnt from the aftermath of Kireth’s flames and in poor shape. Its longbow seemed relatively unharmed, however, and it raised it once more towards the small group of Khalin and Beltak. It had seen its comrade fell the dwarf once and it aimed carefully to try to fell him again.

The flurry of arrows thudded into Khalin’s shield, but one got through, slamming into Beltak’s thigh.

The scribe almost seemed to grin as he shuffled away from the orc wielding the handaxe.

The hammer slammed into the side of the orc, but it barely seemed troubled.

The orc with the broad blade seemed infuriated by Tradden’s contempt for it, spinning his blade in a mockery of the young fighter’s style before swinging it around in an arc to try to slice the boy in two.

Tradden tried to avoid the swing but the blade was too fast.

Beltak seemed to perk up at Khalin’s words and swiftly moved around to flank the orc between them.

With the orc between himself and Khalin, Beltak paused for a moment.

‘We need to get rid of this, uh, thing, Khalin and stop that archer!’ the scribe shouted across to the dwarf. ‘We’re sitting ducks!’

But the large orc still seemed fresh before them and may have to fall before then. Beltak uttered a few words to Pelor before striking out with his mace.

Beltak looked back over at Tradden — the youth was being sorely pressed by the orc with the large blade. With another swift prayer to Pelor a radiant light spilled upon the young fighter, renewing his strength.

The ball of force shot unerringly towards the larger of the two orcs by Tradden’s side and burst against its chest sending slivers of force energy out past it. The orc didn’t seem to notice much in its rage and bloodlust, but the smaller one behind it took the strands of energy full in the face and went down in a bloody howl.

The orc by the porch, bloodied and battered from Khalin’s hammer and Beltak’s mace went into a wild fury. It thrashed out with its flail regardless of the taunts and challenges of the young scribe.

It lashed out at Beltak without a thought…

…but the young scribe managed to duck behind his small shield, deflecting the blow. The orc continued its swing, coming around to face Khalin and the flail followed its movement.

The dwarf was wise to the move, however, and his shield was up well before the weapon made contact.

Before Khalin could prevent it moving off, though, the orc staggered away, its fury taking it across the field of combat towards the hapless Tradden.

The move caught the young fighter by surprise, already beset by one huge orc and another not far behind his back. The flail came around swiftly on his unprotected flank.

The orc barely seemed to register that it had missed all its targets, simply thrashing from side to side with snarls and grunts.

The remaining savages seemed undeterred by the fact their comrades lay blackened and burnt or cut to shreds by ribbons of force. They continued to swing their sharp axes as if their lives depended upon it.

One kept stalking Zero as the rogue tried to hide behind branches of the tree. It swung its handaxe two or three times, only finding stout branches in its way as it circled the dodging rogue.

Finally one of the swipes got through, cutting across Zero’s shoulder and leaving a nasty bruise.

The other savage continued to harass Khalin, seizing the opportunity whilst the dwarf concentrated on the rampaging bruiser.

Khalin was becoming more and more comfortable with combat with every encounter, however, and he dodged the lunge without barely a thought.

Only one of the orcs did not appear to be effectively engaged in the melee. Off to the east, near the large tree, stood an orc with a leather belt stuffed with vials. It cautiously approached the main bulk of the melee, trying to gauge where its efforts would best be placed.

It plucked two of the vials from its belt, one a white opaque liquid, the other a startling green.

Quickly it threw the pair, the first landing between Khalin and Beltak, the other straight at Tradden.

The first vial splashed over Beltak and he was instanly covered in a hissing and spitting viscous glue. The second covered Tradden, stinging his skin and seeping into his eyes. Splashes covered the orc’s allies, though, but were not as painful as the covering that the young fighter received.

More through luck than judgement the bolt lodged itself through the savage’s wrist, pinning it to a branch. The thing squirmed for a few moments, blood spurting from its artery, a scream of torture and agony from its crooked mouth. It didn’t take long for blood loss to sap its strength and it sagged, its knees buckling, but the bolt still pinning it it upright in mockery of its life.

The archer raised its bow in the direction of the scribe. With a glint of revenge in its eye it pulled back the string and let fly.

The arrow thudded into Beltak’s shoulder and the scribe staggered back towards Zero.

The orc wasn’t that distracted that it didn’t manage to get its blade up in time. With a resounding clang Aecris bounced off the huge falchion and the orc changed its stance to meet the new opponent.

With a new victim next to it the orc was spoilt for choice. Here was a dwarf, a loathsome creature, similar to vermin. The orc would love to sink its blade deep into the thing’s chest. Its puny attack had barely distracted its stance, but it would continue to harass the human with the twin blades that would just not shut up.

It swung its blade around, aiming for Tradden’s sword arm.

But the young fighter was too quick for the clumsy swipe of the blade and easily dodged backwards and out of the way.

Beltak had been knocked backwards by the arrow and knew that the archer posed a significant threat, particularly if it was allowed to keep volley after volley of arrows flying into the throng. He decided to put an end to its miserable existence.

With the glue holding him in position, he couldn’t move very far, so he drew his holy symbol and prayed for Pelor’s guidance.

Radiant light seared out from the symbol and washed over the orc, causing it to cry out in pain. Another light swiftly darted towards Tradden, filling him with energy and resolve.

With another effort Beltak managed to pull himself free of the glue.

The sphere of energy crackled with life and burst just above the ground with a blast of magic that showed the mage’s power was increasing. It was power and energy at the expense of speed though, and the blast that spread out was countered by those caught in its radius although they still took a thumping blow.

With concussive shock from the wizard’s magic and the previous assaults from the twin-bladed fighter the rampager’s activity grew to a crescendo. It whirled about thrashing its flail from side to side.

The rampaging orc appeared to take no heed of Tradden’s threats or stance against it. Blinded with rage it struck out where it could.

It was so close to Tradden that it could barely miss…

…but Tradden blocked the clumsy attack between his two swords. The orc then made the move to spin away and disengage with the young fighter. Tradden wasn’t having any of that, however, and he lunged after the beast, trying to stop it from going anywhere.

The fighter’s sword caught the thing as it lurched away, cutting deep into its neck. With a gurgle and a last thrash it fell to the ground.

Tradden wasn’t expecting the orc to lash out as it fell and the head of the flail caught him squarely on the chest.

The last of the handaxe-wielding orcs finally put its arms down from its face after the shock of the wizard’s spell. It had not been buffeted as bad as the others but was enraged by the strike. It looked across at Kireth and charged at the mage with its axe held high.

The orc tripped over the broken cartwheel just before Kireth, though, and the strike went wide by some distance.

The orc stood off to one side continued to search its belt for futher bottles and vials to launch at the party.

The orc seemed to fumble as it retrieved vials from its belt and only came up with one in its crooked hand. A white one with a viscous looking liquid.

With studious intent it propelled it towards Tradden.

The sticky substance covered the man and dwarf but barely splashed any others. For a moment there was only the briefest sting as whatever acid lay at toe concoction’s base ate into their skin, then it began to harden and movement became difficult.

In one moment Kireth was readying himself for the orc’s onslaught until it tripped over the broken wagon wheel by the mage’s feet. The orc almost fell on the mage.

The next moment the orc was coughking up blood in the mage’s face, a single quivering bolt point sticking out of the thing’s chest, piercing its black heart.

Kireth casually side stepped to let the orc fall to the floor at his feet, ignoring its plight now it was no longer a threat.

The archer on the doorstep looked weary, both from its escape from the ambush and sprint down the hill to this ramshackle building and from the many cuts and abrasions it wore. With a limp it slowly moved towards the door, keeping its bow trained on the man and dwarf in the centre of the path.

It still had strength to draw its bow, however, and fired quickly, one arrow after the other.

A number of arrows landed, many bouncing off Khalin’s raised shield, but one got through and punctured Tradden’s thigh.

The swing connected and Khalin felt a reassuring crack.

As the dwarf put his energy into the warhammer’s swing he broke free of the sticky goo thrown by the vial-wielding orc.

The orc didn’t appear to take too kindly to Khalin’s attack and whirled upon the dwarf regardless of Tradden’s taunts.

It brought its blade to bear and swatted at the warlord with a roar.

The heavy blade cut deeply across Khalin’s weapon-arm and the orc swiftly moved to the side of the dwarf, trying to open him up.

Tradden was itching to strike out at the orc but it had moved before he could get close enough to swing his blade.

The young scribe was hurt but he did not let that dent his pride. He was concerned about the archer and he needed to finish the filthy beast off.

With a muttered prayer to Pelor webs of gleaming strands cascaded down from the sky upon the orc archer.

The radiant energy washed over the orc, burning its skin and finally putting an end to the creature’s life.

At the same time the webbing coalesced over Tradden and the young fighter felt renewed.

Wisps of shadow started to form around the orc’s feet and ankles, but they were faint and thin. The orc grinned with a crooked set of teeth at the mage’s impotence.

Tradden tried to break free of the glue slowly hardening around his ankles but to no avail.

The orc with the vials looked unconcerned with the curling shadows around his feet, barely noticing their chill.

It still couldn’t get the vials from its belt, though, and decided to head towards the potential safety of the porch and the door to the shack.

As it began to move the wisps of shadow started to writhe and form into the heads of vicious beasts, snapping and biting at the orc’s ankles until it finally broke free.

At the saftey of the porch it turned and lobbed a single vial at Beltak.

The vial cracked as it hit Beltak, spraying the scribe with a stinging liquid, some of it spraying onto the hapless Zero hiding in the bushes behind.

The shot thudded into the door behind the orc, but Zero shuffled forwards and melted into the shadows once more.

The orc whirled upon the dwarf, anger and fire in its eyes, swinging its heavy blade down onto the warlord.

The orc landed a crashing blow against the dwarf, clattering off Khalin’s shield and onto the top of his arm. The warlord grimaced at the pain and shot a look at Tradden.

Tradden, who knew Khalin was a past-master at creating openings for his comrades during a fight, had been waiting for this chance and did not hesitate.

Tradden cut across the greenskin’s back and for a moment the young fighter thought the strike wasn’t enough. But then, with a stagger to its left, it fell face down in the dirt.

Beltak winced at the pain from the stinging liquid and took a moment to utter a short prayer to Pelor.

With renewed hope he ran towards the remaining orc with his mace raised in the air. The scribe was not a warrior, but none could doubt his courage in trying to stop the thing fleeing through the door.

With a cry to Pelor he crashed into the orc, swinging his mace with all his might, a divine glow coming from the weapon as it struck.

The strike caught the orc by surprise and it howled in pain. Khalin took heart from the scribe’s actions and basked in the glow of the radiance of the strike.

The force bolt hit the orc squarely in the chest and it roared out with pain. It was surrounded out here, all of its allies gone, but it was still too stubborn, or stupid, to give in.

The young fighter slashed downwards as he buffeted into the creature, opening a large cut across its flank.

The alchemist reeled from Tradden’s attack. It was outnumbered by far, allies strewn around the battlefield, but it might just yet survive.

Being pressed on its flanks it couldn’t get hold of all of the vials it wanted, but at least it got one it would need, throwing the small glass bulb down hard onto the floor.

A thin cloud of strange brown gas flooded the immediate area around the orc with a smell that was overbearing. A mixture of foul excrement and rotting flesh made Beltak and Tradden gag and even Khalin was affected somewhat. Fortunately for Zero and Kireth they were too far away for the smell to overpower them, but even they could sniff its putrescence.

The orc seemed a little affected too, but masked his distaste by drawing out a large gnarled club from its belt and started to swing it from side to side.

The bolt sped forwards from the gloom of the branches and thudded into the orc’s thigh.

Just as Tradden raised an arm to suggest icapacitating the orc rather than outright killing it the dwarf’s blow cracked the orc’s skull, knocking the lifeless corpse backwards and splintering through the shack’s door.

It was a violent end to a bloody battle, the sound of splintering wood and a grunt of satisfaction from the warlord the last sound. The remains of the door swung backwards and forwards on their hinges with a dark, stale space behind it seemingly the only reward.