Zero cursed under his breath. His half-plan of distraction involving posing as a goblin was out the window now. If he didn't take a shot now, the orcs certainly would.

He hastened through the scrub, drawing just within firing range, took aim at the broad green back of one of the orcs, slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

No sooner had the bolt flown than he was back behind the cover of the nearest tree.

‘Aaaand here we goooo,’ he sang.

There was no more time to waste, and Khalin set off in a full sprint, angling his run between the trees and towards the clearing.

As he charged he raised Aecris aloft and yelled at the enemy: ‘Come and pick on someone yer own size, ya green bastards!’

As his cry echoed around the depression he sent a prayer to Moradin to protect the dragonborn, and hoped he might draw some of the fire.

Seeing Khalin and Kireth fan out towards the enemy, and understanding that the best way to take attention away from Zero and Rhasgar was still ultimately to divert focus elsewhere, Tradden broke out into a run, the long grass and scrub providing good, solid footholds to enable swift passage. Drawing his other blade from his back, the fighter looked around to Beltak, fleetingly.

‘You and Kireth head straight north, 'Tak, and back up the Talons and our new friend!’

As the human flashed past Khalin, he drew his sword and offered a roaring laugh. ‘Keep up Master Dwarf — or there will be none left by the time you get there!’

Foiled by the cliff, Brünhilde accepted that the attempt to warn these “Talons” — assuming that is who was in the cave — was done. The fight was on.

She was not sure what it was that had stepped out of the cave, but the orcs clearly did not like it, and it was armoured in the way of an intelligent being so was probably not some other beast or monster. But the nature of the creature would have to wait. There were now more pressing matters to attend to.

The orcs were on the far side of the clearing, but that would not be a problem.

The deer form was one she chose when she needed to move fast. She bolted to the north and started to arc around to the west, picking up speed. It was exhilarating to charge as a deer. As she approached the orcs' position she saw some were on a higher bluff. She decided to start there, charging up the embankment and at the first orc from the north. She briefly wondered what the orc must be thinking as a deer came running at it as opposed to away from it. She also pondered other forms she could take now, or wished she could take now, a large bear, an owlbear… or just an angry dwarf with a big hammer.

She let the wild shape go and quickly returned to her natural form, just in time for the orc to turn and get smashed in the side of the head with Balunâzduun.

She was impressed with the way it took the blow. Sure, there was a nasty cracking sound and blood flying through the air, but it was still upright.

Not for long, however, as she brought the maul back around in a savage swing, taking the orc in the midriff, briefly lifting it from its feet and dropping it to the ground.

Satisfied, she turned to the rest of the group of orcs shouting, ‘Who's next you pig-faced shit-donkeys?’

Zero looked about and sighted the colourfully attired war chief across the clearing.

‘Oh, yes,’ he said, steadying his aim on the crook of a branch, ‘real hero, leading from the back.’

He stared down the sight of his crossbow and fired.

Khalin harrumphed with indignation as his passionate taunt went apparently unacknowledged, but kept running towards the war chief.

Rhasgar had boldly strode out to meet the enemy but, with more trouble apparently emerging from the north, he would need support. The dwarf started to mumble a prayer to Moradin as he strode onward and brandished Aecris towards the large orc.

A ball of energy coalesced round the head of the craghammer and shot towards the enemy, prompting a cry of triumph and thanks from the marshal…

The triumph turned to anger as the bolt missed its mark and dissipated harmlessly. ‘Looks like I still need to work on that,’ Khalin mused to himself.

Despite the chaos of the battlefield, Kireth strode forwards calmly, making his way closer to Zero.

The mage could hear the shouts and growls of the orcs, interspersed with the barking orders of Khalin, just above the crackle of the fire as the trees he had burned with his spell continued to catch and spread.

The trees here were in his way now, and he did think about burning them for a moment, but continued his walk instead.

He paused at the edge of the treeline, spying the giant creatures awkwardly rising to the north and then to the frenzied orc chief in the centre of the clearing, gathering thoughts for his next move.

Tradden carried on his run, concentrating only on being able to get into combat and relieve the stricken Rhasgar.

Finally arriving and standing next to the dragonborn, the human stood and faced the orcs partly back-to-back.

‘Hey,’ quipped Tradden, nodding at the somewhat-surprised looking dragon-man. ‘How ’ya been?’

With that, the two fighters stood ready to face the orcs together.

The battle started to develop quickly. The nearby orcs moved towards Brünhilde, which was fine with her, but as they closed she glanced back to see what was happening with the lizard creature. Several more orcs, including what she assumed was their leader where attacking it, and Khalin and Tradden had moved up to fight with it. Then, from the north, three giants had entered the fray and were heading for that same central fight. She needed to mop up these orcs quickly.

With a word, her skin started to change, taking on the colour and texture of thick bark.

Then she turned back to the approaching orcs and shouted in their own tongue. ‘Well, what a set of pathetic runts you are. Four on one and I still have you outnumbered!’

That did the trick, with all four moving in to attack.

But as they stepped close and started to swing, Brünhilde gestured with her right hand before taking hold of her maul in both hands, pointing the head straight down and slamming it into the ground. As she did so she shouted another magical word and a blast of sound, like thunder, exploded outwards from her, the boom echoing out across the clearing.

Two of the orcs were were sent reeling backward by the blast, the other two managing to hold their ground, but all were weakened. As they started to move back in again Brünhilde readied her maul and grinned.

Losing sight of some of the orcs as they charged toward the armored dragonborn, Zero was forced to break cover. He darted toward the next tree and looked ahead for that infernal war chief.

Watching carefully from the low branches he looked for a good target. The group around Rhasgar were all concentrating on the dragonborn, so Zero took time to be unseen amongst the low branches of his tree.

‘Ohh, there you are,’ the rogue cooed, spotting the war chief and taking aim again. ‘Can't hide from me.’

His finger squeezed the trigger and with a snap the bolt flew across the clearing.

Rhasgar was a brave and sturdy soul, but the leader of the Talons was still the focus of the enemy's attack.

With the orcs still paying no heed to the marshal's approach, Khalin angled his run round to come at the enemy leader from his blind spot.

Still concentrating on the dragonborn, the war chief was caught completely unawares as Khalin brought Aecris arcing round in a mighty swing, the impact lifting the big orc off its feet.

Buoyed by the strikes, Rhasgar felt renewed strength, nodding to the new arrival in thanks as the dragonborn steeled himself for the next attack.

With the enemy momentarily winded, Khalin brought his hammer down again, this time backhanded.

The second blow landed, battering, but not felling, the orc.

Kireth looked at the group hacking at each other with axes, swords and hammers and sneered. So crude. He looked down and his attention was caught by a small insect, finding its way amongst the grass at his feet. He reached out and picked it up, holding it between thumb and forefinger before looking at the group, sneering, and then crushing the insect.

Three of the orcs fell to the ground mid-strike, their axes clattering to the ground. Kireth wiped his hand clean on his robe.

Blows were reigning down on Rhasgar and despite the fact that Tradden knew the dragonborn to be exceptionally tough it was clear that he couldn't take much more. The orcs were falling, either to death or to sleep — thanks to Kireth he assumed — but it wasn't enough. Not with these three lumbering whatever-they-weres heading in their direction. Well, they would have to come through an Aversward first.

Positioning himself so as to be of most nuisance to all three, the fighter finally managed to stop for a fraction of a second and take them in.

They were a bit of a mixture of good and bad really. The good points where that they didn't look like the sharpest, or indeed the most agile. Also, they didn't wear much armour — the one right in front of him only had some tattered mail on its arm, and a helmet that was ill-fitting to start off with, but now also had various grasses and bushes stuck in it to make it jauntily off-set. The bad points were that they were really big. Really big. And mean looking. And big. Something old Mr Ironfoot had told him about as a youngster, years back when he was educating him about the myths (ha!) of orcs and goblins… There was always something else. Really large ones — maybe 10 feet high, lumbering and stupid. What did he call them? Turning his neck for a second, Tradden snapped off a comment behind him.

‘Hey, er, Khalin… I think these might be… Ogres…!’

Whether they were, or were not, they were still coming right at him and Tradden was past declaring that he was Tradden Aversward and at their service before asking what that exquisite musk they were wearing was? He saw an opportunity to strike, feint and strike again, and he took it.

The first hit was solid, slashing into the midriff of the creature. Tradden was clearly lining up to move right… but then was somehow drifting left, which the creature did not anticipate, and an opening in its defences appeared…

Wide open, as it happened, Tradden tore through the fleshy abdomen with his longsword, and just at the right time there was a white, sparky flash, and the spurting blood turned into a red ice all around the wound.

A good start, mused the fighter, but he knew what was coming next, crossing his blades in a blocking motion.

Brünhilde was done with spells for now. It was time to start smashing orcs around directly. As the orc's weapons came in, a few scoring hits, she grimaced, but largely ignored them and took an advancing step to her left.

She swung Balunâzduun from right to left, crunching into the first orc's midriff with a satisfying crack of bone. It went down, and she knew it would not be getting back up again.

She then quickly reversed her swing, and without much finesse, just brute force, did the same to the next orc, this time swinging the maul's head from left to right, sweeping the orc aside with a wet muffled thump and cry.

As she did so, she turned and moved to get a better view of the other fight whilst positioning herself to fight the last two orcs. She was itching to have a go at those big things.

Quite comfortable in his sniping spot beside the stout tree, Zero reloaded his crossbow and fired again at the orcish war chief.

‘Yes!!’ Zero shouted, almost giving away his position.

As the orc chieftain fell, Khalin permitted himself a slight smile. Zero was lethal when set in the shadows, and the greenie's hubris was rewarded with death.

Careful to avoid the bodies about — some dead, some sleeping — the dwarf moved to Rhasgar's shoulder to offer support. There was no time for pleasantries though, and the marshal brought Aecris quickly to bear against the nearest ogre…

His swing was true and the blow wounded the enemy amidships with a satisfying crunch. The dwarf leaned into the blow, shoving his larger opponent back a yard or two, and setting himself back to back with the dragonborn.

All the time the dwarf kept Aecris moving, retaining as much momentum in the wheeling hammer's head as he could muster, in what was now becoming a practised swing…

But this time the ogre got its giant plated arm up in time, blocking the blow. Khalin grunted, wondering whether another prayer to Moradin might have been a prudent move.

Kireth kept his distance, under the shade of the tree, trying to understand where the errant ogre was heading and what it was heading there for. Likely the rest of the Talons he surmised, though surely with Aukan and Rangrim they would be able to hold it off for a few moments.

His attention turned back to the melee in the centre of the clearing. Most of the orcs were down, but one still stood, thrashing its axe at Rhasgar. Kireth held up a hand and a bolt of fire leapt from his palm.

The bolt struck the orc at the side of the head, knocking it sideways and down in a fiery burst. It tried to get up, but failed, and lay there resting in the dirt.

The sounds of battle were now becoming just as telling to Tradden as if he could observe visually. Lately, he could distinguish between the heavy footsteps of the ogres compared to the much lighter footwork of Khalin, with Rhasgar currently residing somewhere in between.

Slashes and stabs had their own audibility, whether they hit or not. The sounds of spells shooting from a ranged Kireth certainly stood out. All of that painted a painting in Tradden's mind of the current battlefield, and as such he knew that the fight behind him was going as well as it could be, and so he did not take his eye off the hulking ogre in front of him, instead waiting for a moment to strike.

As the creature pulled one arm back to smash down on the puny human, Tradden again struck.

Lunging forward and leaning onto his front foot, Tradden lashed out as if he were a deranged fencer, drawing a vicious figure of eight from head, down through the ogre's chest and then back up. There was method in his madness however, and the ambitious strike carved bloody wounds over the ogre's upper torso. It was all in the wrist.

With another flourish Tradden held his pose, but swished his longsword back over his head, concentrating for a second. This had to hit home if he was going to put this brute down before it had chance to hit back. And then, with a swiftness and accuracy the nearby Khalin had never previously witnessed, Tradden stabbed home, efficiently, and withdrew just as quickly. The thing's heart was pierced, and it was dead before it hit the ground, toppling forward towards Tradden.

The fighter was already gone, however, pirouetting around the other nearby ogre, and crouching down as he span, lashing out with his other blade in one of his trademark whirlwind attacks.

The other ogre roared in anger as a significant chunk of its hamstring landed on the scrub a few feet away. Tradden's attention was, however, towards the east, and he bellowed out a challenge.

‘Hey, ugly! Come pick on someone who knows how to kill ogres!’

Brünhilde glanced at the main battle again and saw things were going well. One of the big things and the orc leader were down, and she presumed the rest were still fighting out of plain stupidity.

One of the other big things was blocking the cave entrance, so it was impossible to see what was happening there. She decided it might be best to wander over there and kill the big thing just to make sure everything was ok.

With her mind made up, she smashed the first of two remaining orcs with Balunâzduun, folding its leg under it in a rather gruesome fashion.

Then, keeping the momentum going, she brought the maul up over her head and down on the last orc. It did not offer a great deal of resistance, and crumpled to the ground, its head and neck broken.

Brünhilde then turned and started her small legs pumping as she moved towards the cave, skittering down the embankment.

As she scampered down, she drew in large lungfuls of air, preparing her for the battle ahead.

The brutish ogre hammering Khalin caught Zero's eye. Tough as the dwarf was, another couple of thunderous blows and he'd be strawberry jam.

The rogue took aim and hoped his tiny bolt might hit a vital part of the enormous creature's anatomy.

Unfortunately, it whistled wide of the mark as the monster lumbered about swinging at its foes.

Khalin wiped a streak of blood away from his face as he steeled himself against the ogre's latest attack. Setting his feet in a wide stance once more, he brought Aecris up and across the ogre's chest.

As the blow hit true the dwarf threw a line of thanks to his deity into the whispered mantra he was maintaining.

The marshal pressed the advantage by putting his full weight into the follow up strike.

He caught the ogre still off balance and knocked the hulking beast onto its back in an impressive show of strength.

There were only two enemies left now, one that Khalin had bowled over and another still causing problems at the mouth of the cave.

Kireth studied the one at the cave entrance for a moment. It was throwing its club around, perhaps striking at something within, but also hitting the top of the entrance and the sides with its wild swings. At any moment the mouth could collapse.

He decided to try and attract its attention.

A small bolt of flame sprung from the end of his staff and struck the ogre in its rear.

The thing hardly seemed to notice.

All of the enemies being strewn on the floor, Tradden again craned his head around to see what the other ogre was doing. A flash of fire emanating from the treeline towards the ogre made up his mind — if Kireth thought it was worth attacking, he would follow.

As he moved off, however, the prone giant at his feet swiped at him with its arm.

With a deft leap over the flailing arm of the hapless ogre on the floor, the fighter skipped towards the other near the cave.

Keeping a low stance he then jumped up to slash at it as he neared.

Following the initial blow up quickly.

…and again…

Once, and then again, Tradden's longsword was brought down at an angle across the creature's back, this way and that, causing a large, red “X” to welt and scar. Then, with a flourish he whipped the shortsword underneath the cross, in a horizontal line, as if to underline and accentuate the earlier hits.

Tradden always fancied himself as the strong, quiet, brooding type. Nothing could be further from the truth of course, and he just couldn't help himself. No one quite nailed an “Ah, ha!” like Tradden.

‘Ah, Ha! The mark of Aversward!’ he exclaimed.

As she ran, Brünhilde again took stock of the situation. Only two of the big things remained, and the one in the centre of the clearing looked to be on its last legs. She had intended to head right over the cave mouth, but that would take some time, and she could help in the middle now.

Her mind made up, she moved down the embankment as quickly as she could and charged the creature. It was engaged with the lizard and Khalin, and a well-placed hammer should do the trick.

As she moved into the middle of the clearing, she moved into a sprint, bringing her maul over her head.

She threw all her weight into the blow, bringing the maul forward and smashing the ogre in the side of its ribs that gave way under the force of the heavy maul head.

Big as the ogre was, he could only glimpse parts of it as it swung at his friends.

Zero scrambled ahead through the brush and slid to a halt beside Kireth, who flashed him a disgruntled look.

The thief then raised his crossbow and let a bolt fly at the rampaging hulk.

The bolt struck the ogre, but even with Zero's accurate shot it didn't seem to affect it much.

Khalin took a deep breath as the ogre before him fell, but his relief was short lived as the sound of falling rock echoed around the hollow from the east. The dwarf looked on in horror — there could only be one reason why the other brute had been try to collapse the cave entrance: to trap whoever was inside, presumably the Talons. It was strange that they had not reacted earlier if so, but Rhasgar's frantic reaction suggested someone was indeed trapped.

‘Moradin's Beard!’ cursed the marshal as he sprinted across to help.

The final ogre still lumbered nearby and Khalin brandished Aecris towards it as he ran. As the marshal added a different cadence to his whispered incantations, the head of the craghammer glowed once more with radiant fire before a ball of incandescence rocketed into the ogre's flank.

The ball was true but the ogre paid it no heed, still laughing at those surrounding it.

Kireth looked at the kneeling rogue beside him as Zero let fly with one of his bolts. The ogre was powerful, the mage could see that, but it was powerful as brute savagery, not with intelligence. Zero's shot barely seemed to scratch the hulking giant and Khalin's follow up was, well, woeful.

He thought for a moment on how such physical power could be harnessed, the small mind within the huge body easy to time and direct. It was a fleeting thought before he raised his staff.

He spoke a soft word and a ghostly, skeletal hand appeared at the tip of the staff before hurtling towards the ogre.

The hand grasped hold of the ogre's shoulder, lingering there in a rime of frost.

Tradden didn't wait to see what would happen following the flashes of various light which struck the ogre. By the time the one coming in from the treeline had struck home, the fighter was already chopping down.

Perhaps he wasn't set right, perhaps the flash from the magics raining down on the beast had more of an effect on his eyesight than he thought, but either way the blow was clumsy and wayward. Not to be denied, however, Tradden turned his wrist, adeptly, and struck again.

This time the blade hit true, finally ending the large creature, which growled as it collapsed sideways into a heap.

Tradden's shortsword was already sheathed on his back by the time the ogre hit the floor. Stepping over one outstretched, muscled leg the fighter knelt down at what had been the cave entrance and used his now free hand to gently prod and feel some of the dusty debris.

The roof of the cave mouth had completely fallen in, bring down grass and scrub from the ledge on top to mix with the larger stones. Judging by the overall shape and curve of the mouth and taking into account the slope of the bank, it didn't look like digging out the entrance would be too difficult — but it might take a while. Not good if there was no air getting in. It struck the human that the way the mouth had been collapsed meant that there was a chance that they could bring more down if not careful.

At that point he heard a district sound of muffled shouts coming from behind the rocks, which he took to be a good sign, albeit ramping up the urgency a notch.

Turning round he beckoned to Kireth and Brünhilde. ‘I will defer to anyone with more knowledge of rock and stone than me… which I think is possibly everyone… so if you have any good ideas say now. Otherwise, I suggest we move fast, but carefully. We could do more harm than good if we are not careful.’