In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)

Chapter 11: Minetown (Continued)

“Would you gentle sirs like your horses?” The stable boy bowed low, emanating respect for the wealthy travelers.

“Yes, yes my good chap,” Fitz replied, patting the boy on the back as he rushed off to gather the steeds.

“Do we believe Honest Abe?” the mage asked.

“Not completely,” Tobias acknowledged. “I think he told us the truth about the location of the Culites.”

“I’d agree with that assessment as well,” the priest murmured. “But, I still hold reservations about his involvement with Wembly’s disappearance.”

“I don’t believe him wholly about that either.” The paladin shifted uncomfortably, placing the Culite medallion back within his satchel. “With the Culites so close, however, we’ll have to worry about that mystery at another time. This town’s safety is most important.” Tobias tossed a small satchel of gold to the stable boy.

“Thank you sirs!”

The paladin nodded, pulling himself up and onto the horse. He waited for his companions to mount and turned his steed north, toward the mines. The beasts broke into a slow trot, slow enough for the heroes to speak and plan.

“Ideas?” questioned Tobias.

“It depends on their numbers,” grunted the Rorn. “If their force is too large, it will require more planning. And odds are, we’ll die anyway.”

“It will be a righteous death,” the paladin stated, a content grin on his lips.

“We won’t die,” Magnus boasted. “I just need to get the layout of this town; then I’ll protect you all.”

Motega chuckled. “Sure you will, Magnus, the Great. And we will be forever indebted to your powerful magics.” Everyone except Magnus broke into laughter. The mage grumbled, pulling out one of his scrolls, triple checking the wording. Once the laughing died down, the Rorn spoke again, “We need to watch the north road.”

“Are we going to the mines?” Fitz queried.

“No, that would be fighting them on their own terms,” Motega advised. “We just need information. We will wait there, count the numbers entering town. If there are few enough, we’ll make sure they don’t return.”

“Agreed, then. It’ll be nice to be off this horse for a few solid hours,” spoke Tobias.

“No doubt the horse needs the rest more,” Magnus hissed, unheard over the trotting steeds.
 

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Chapter 11: Minetown (Continued)

The deepening dark shadowed three prone forms, nestled between a few dry leaves and nettles. One form, one body slid between the shadows of branches and limbs, climbing higher and moving ever closer to the dying yellowish hues of a well-trodden road.

A deep snore gave the moving shadow pause. Motega grimaced as once again, his companions showed their inability to hold to the rules regarding stealth. The Rorn’s blood-pressure shot up, beads of sweat percolated across his flesh. A hot flash gripped the ranger, his knuckles tightened upon the branch, whitening with stress. Above, the nearly full moon peeked behind a cloud, baring its cold face through the last rays of daylight.

The moment passed and the rage subsided. Aware of the full scene now, the Rorn shook his head. He was ashamed; ashamed to toss blame toward his companions. It was not their fault they had fallen asleep. Here, upon the edge of town, there was naught that they could do but wait. The long weariness of the road had eventually pulled upon each of them, drowning them in the calm sea of sleep. Even Magnus, ever scribbling upon his parchments, had succumbed. All except for the Rorn.

Motega had kept the watch all afternoon and would keep the watch all night, if need be. Here, with the moon shining nearly full, the Rornman was at his best. Without his companions, who slept restfully below, the ranger could dance from branch to branch without so much as a whisper. His movements were fluid, natural, an ancient dance that had no modern equal in beauty or function. His eyes pierced the deepening dark.

But it was all fruitless. Not a single traveler had stumbled down the road. Nothing. No one. The only noises aside from the quiet grazing of the distant horses were the occasional snores of a companion or two.

He released his grip on the branch, embracing the fall. Before descending from the canopy, the ranger latched onto another branch. Holding tight, his trajectory adjusted immediately. He flew into a mid-air barrel roll, spinning until he landed gracefully betwixt his friends.

Motega grasped Tobias’ shoulder, giving a gentle but firm shake. The paladin stirred, eyes opening slowly. The warrior wiped the sleep from his eyes before whispering, “What is it?”

“No one has strayed down the path. I think it is time we break camp.”

Tobias sat up, stretching his arms and chest. “What then?”

“I think it is time to see the Baron’s estate. Maybe if we circle the town and re-enter to the south we can gather more information.”

“A good idea. Plus, it will content the mage. And we can then know what is at our backs when we fight. Let us wake the others.” The pair quickly and silently roused the others.

“The horses?” asked Fitz.

“They can stay. They will be safe and they won’t compromise our stealth,” claimed the Rornman. “If we move quietly and slowly enough, none will know of our presence.”

“Good enough. Let’s go,” decided Magnus. He slung his sack of parchment over his shoulder. The paper rubbed together, creating an unnatural noise. Motega shot the mage a glare. “What?” Magnus shrugged his shoulders annoyingly.

“Nothing,” grunted the Rorn. “Follow me.” He stalked out ahead of the others. High above, the last rays of sun disappeared behind the horizon revealing the full fury of the moon. Motega twitched, his blood-pressure rocketing upward, his muscles clenching. Taking a deep breath, the Rorn started again to lead the party into the deepening dark.
 

Chapter 11: Minetown (Continued)

Tobias smirked. His armor was drenched in the blood of foes—six, pointy-eared, stuck up Horadrel had accosted the Heroes and paid the price. Culite scouts, each and every one, calling for the adventurers to surrender, firing their bows, and hiding beneath the moonlight and tree branches in fear.

The paladin had no tolerance for the cowardly tactics. Each and every one had died, falling to the Heroes, just as the entire Culite force would. Righteousness would prevail.

The party gathered near the southernmost building in Minetown—a home, it seemed. From inside, bellows filled with pain and suffering resounded. Tobias smirked. Righteousness was about to prevail.

“Do you think it’s locked?” Magnus questioned quietly.

“Doubt it,” Motega grunted. “Tobias can break it down if it is.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Tobias hissed.

“Wait!” shouted Fitz. The other three turned to glare at the priest but from the unpaused wailing, his voice hadn’t been heard. The cleric dug through his sack, pulling out a long wand. “Do you want to be healed during battle or not?” Fitz asked with a note of annoyance in his voice. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Right. Let’s go,” Tobias restated as he charged the door. The door had not been locked—but the force of the paladin made sure it could never be again. The old wood slammed open, spiraling off its hinges.

Pivoting to the left, Tobias saw the biggest, ugliest beast he had ever seen. His eyes quickly picked out two other Culites which he deemed as lesser threats. The beast—the ogre—held a man down, bent over a table. Its big, meaty fingers bruised the human’s flesh as its hairy, nude hips gyrated painfully against the victim’s bare buttocks.

The man—just a resident of Minetown—wept, screams and blood burst from his raw, wounded throat.

Tobias screamed in rage; righteous fury fueled his arms.

The other two Culites were completely surprised. They fell from their chairs, one of Motega’s arrows embedded in each.

The ogre shifted, withdrawing from inside the human. His head pivoted around and his body tensed. Tobias had caught him with his pants down.

The steel greatsword cleaved downward, into the niche between the ogre’s neck and shoulder then down through its back. The ogre’s eyes glazed over as the blade quickly changed position—and devoured the flesh in the opposite direction.

The rapist fell forward as life fled its body, but not before the blade leapt hungrily into its back for a third time—piercing several organs before bursting through his chest.

The paladin screamed in fury and pulled back, allowing the corpse to kiss the ground. He spun—and realized the party had already neutralized the other two Culites. Tobias spit on the corpse.

Still bent over the table, the human wept silently, his body trembling from shock. Tobias looked to his companions—each looked away, ashamed at the sight. The paladin grimaced as he ripped the clothing from one of the Culites. He moved toward the human and laid the cloth over his nude body.

“What’s your name?” Tobias asked.

“N—N—Netto.”

“It’s okay now, Netto. You’re safe.” Tobias patted his shoulder gently, careful to avoid the ogre’s bruises. “How would you like to help serve justice to these fiends?”

The man, Netto, swallowed and stifled his tears. “How can I help?”
 

Chapter 12: Bloodshed

Magnus brushed the shaggy hair dangling over his eyes. He leaned back slowly, allowing a light breeze to cool the beads of sweat that had gathered across his brow. The mage stared at the pile of scrolls—nearly twenty haphazardly stacked—which sat on the makeshift desk.

The breeze silenced the light of the candle eliciting a hoarse grumble from the mage. He grasped about in the darkness for a tinderbox. Within a few moments the stubby candle flickered to life, casting its chaotic rays against the dilapidated boards of the old church. The light was inconstant; it was a pain. The mage could have produced a better light by drawing upon the fabric of reality, by pulling forth magic. But, he would probably need every spell for the battle ahead. Even then, he had his doubts about survival.

Magnus glanced down at his most recent work…

…and was interrupted as Tobias stomped into the room. The mage frowned and looked up as the paladin set a noisy bag gently upon the floor.

“The Oil?” the mage questioned, returning his eyes to the writ.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Just twelve pints.”

“Any barrels?”

“Two nearly full barrels,” Tobias sighed.

“Good. Here,” Magnus thrust a piece of parchment in the holy warrior’s direction. His eyes were again focused upon the parchment. Distractedly he murmured, “These are your instructions,” and so he did not see Tobias grimace of annoyance. Angrily, the paladin sighed and snatched the illustration—a hastily sketched diagram. Then he lifted the bag off the floor and plodded from the church.

Magnus scanned the letter one more time.

My Liege,

Please forgive the use of our Kingdom's seal but I felt it necessary you receive this writ in all haste.

There have been attacks on your kingdom from a band of Culites. The man accompanying this letter bears witness to more than a dozen atrocities committed in Minetown.

My friends and I have been in a running battle with Culite forces for the better part of a month or two now. Sir Eddam, Mayor of Marchford, was to have sent missives to you about the plots we have uncovered. Our information has also been given to the Lady Erigal of Dun Moor. Unfortunately, the Lord of Dun Beric turned us away and spurned our assistance as well as our information.

The Culites seek the fulfilling of one of their prophecies; specifically for the creatures of the depths to rise from the darkness below and subjugate our world of light—and your Kingdom of Rhelm.

In the quest to fulfill this prophesy, untold numbers have been slaughtered by the Culites. We mean to stand against them.

Currently we are in the preparing to do battle with their main body here in Minetown, the dawn after this man left for you. Pray for our success, your baron here has abandoned the town to whatever fate the Gods choose.

Satisfied with the hasty work, he quickly added his signature and sealed the writ. As he finished, the young man named Netto moved quietly into the church foyer.

“You requested my presence, Magnus?”

“Yes, Netto.” Magnus replied. “I have an errand I’d like you to handle.” The mage pushed the sealed letter into the man’s hand.

“I…I cannot read,” he whispered, his face reddened by shame.

“You do not need to. That was not my intent. And do not be ashamed. Any man can learn to read. In fact, right now I’m teaching Tobias.”

“Lord Tobias does not know how to read?”

“He is not proficient, no. But in his line of work it is not necessary; just as it is not necessary this task. You have to take this writ and deliver it to the King in Rhelm.”

“Sir…but…”

“I will not take no for an answer,” Magnus reprimanded coldly.

“It is not that I do not wish to serve. But I was promised my vengeance…”

“And you will have it unless you fall in battle. This writ needs delivered; the King needs to know of what is occurring. If the word is not passed along and our lives are lost on the morrow, will you have your vengeance?” Before allowing Netto to answer, Magnus spun with a flourish and spoke again, “of course not. But this is not about vengeance alone either. This is about justice. We do not want you to go; we need you to go.”

“This..is an important mission.”

“It is the most important. If we fail—it will be up to the King as well as you to complete the task. And it will not be without its perils. Rhelm lies to the north here. You will have to ride east, skirting the Culite force, before turning north to your destination. Netto,” Magnus rested his hand on the youth’s shoulders, “you will have to travel fast. The sooner you return, the sooner you can be assured that justice has been served.

“Now, take this parchment and get saddled up. Motega was rounding up our steeds—take mine.” The mage opened his mouth but before he could speak, a mournful sound filled the air.

“That…that was a horn,” Netto mutter.

“Aye. You must leave now. The Culites draw close. Go!” Magnus pushed Netto from the church. He turned to gather his scrolls, tucking them neatly into their scroll tubes. Finally, the mage grasped the shield and stepped from the church.
 

Chapter 12: Bloodshed (Continued)

The mage slid through the door into the pre-dawn heat. A harsh sun was only beginning to cast its violent rays skyward in the west, highlighting the shimmering cobalt of Raider’s Bay. Rain had yet to break the unending summer draught. The cloudless sky promised no relief for Rhelm.

“Wizard!” barked Motega as he strode quickly across the dusty road. “Where is Netto going?”

“I’ve sent him to Rhelm.”

“What’s that now?” queried Tobias as both the paladin and Fitz closed their distance to the brewing spectacle.

“I’ve sent Netto to Rhelm,” the mage patiently repeated. He glanced around, noting four Minetown patriots waiting for their own orders.

“Are you a fool?!” bellowed the Rornman. “We could’ve used another sword here.” The mage’s face was beginning to flush. Hopefully, the four natives wouldn’t notice the blossoming color in the dim light.

“I’m no fool,” he interjected. Quieter, he added, “Do not speak down to me in front of the villagers.” The mage paused, allowing Motega to stare with incredulity at the sudden backbone he had grown. Raising his voice, the mage continued, “Netto was sent to deliver a missive to the King himself. It is an important mission.”

“We are unsure of the size of their force, mage.”

“I have it covered, ranger.” Magnus’ tone was full of bitterness and exhaustion. Each member of the Heroes showed wear and tear from a night without much rest. Tobias seemed the worse; his muscles trembling with exhaustion from readying the defenses and searching the town.

Motega stepped in toward Magnus but before the distance betwixt them dwindled to nothingness, Tobias popped in between. His arms kept them both at a safe distance. “We are all tired here,” the paladin hissed between his teeth. Turning to Motega he stated as calmly as possible, “let the mage give us his reasons before judgment is passed.” All turned to Magnus, eliciting another stir of embarrassment in his cheeks.

“The King must be warned of these events. Netto was the best choice. And he has already suffered enough.” Magnus searched the paladin’s eyes, hoping he had played the correct sympathy card. “Besides, if Netto’s sword was really necessary—that would mean that all three of you had already fallen. If it came down to Netto’s sword than this town’s fate had been decided.

“No, it was better for Netto to ride to Rhelm. At least there, he may beg the King’s aid. With any luck, a royal contingent can be drawn the forty miles to this town. We may need the help.” Out of the corner of his eye, Magnus noted Fitz nodding his head in agreement.

“Bah,” Motega snorted. “I doubt we could hold out long enough for some army to reach us.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tobias decided. “Magnus has good reasoning this time.” A cocky grin stretched the mage’s face but Tobias glowered at him. “You had a good idea mage, but we are a group. Ultimately, I have final say on our course. Next time you have an idea, discuss it with the rest of us. I grow weary of your secrecy.” Without a final glance back, the paladin marched from the group, back to his tasks. Fitz followed quietly.

Magnus simmered. Motega looked deflated. Turning, he too left the mage, standing alone amongst the natives.

The mage swallowed his anger, realizing it as a byproduct of exhaustion. “Are you all we have?” he asked the six that had watched the drama unfold.

“No,” responded a young man in yellow garb. “How much are you offering?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How much are you going to pay me for my services, mage? They don’t come cheap—especially if there is an element of danger.” The other human watchers nodded in acquiescence.

“Wait,” the mage demanded, rubbing his temples where a headache was quickly blossoming. “You want money to defend your own town?”

“For a mage, you’re not too smart are you?” The man questioned with a haughty grin. Before the insult sank completely in, he jabbered again, “This isn’t my town. I’m just a traveler that happened to be in the right place at the, well, wrong time. And quite simply, I have no problems with the Culites personally. So, I’ll need money to sway my loyalty to your favor.”

“Feh,” snorted the only inhuman remaining, a dwarf. He stepped forward, already dressed in a fine suit of mail and hefting a beautifully crafted axe. “Yer jus’ another greedy priest of Galar,” he accused. The young man in yellow finery shrugged carelessly. “Look mage, I’ll fight fer yeh, and fer the town. If yeh wanna toss a little of the loot my way, fine. I’d like ter get rid of those damned, dirty Culites.”

“Well, ser dwarf, I will be more than happy to pass some of the spoils of war your way. As well as to the others of you,” Magnus added. The others nodded happily.

“Good ‘nuff fer me then.” The dwarf, a craftsman named Cochly, said. Hefting his axe up onto his shoulder he paced away toward Tobias and Fitz. Before passing the mage he spun and glared at the other Minetown patriots. “Arad, Byk, and Cargyle! Get your asses in gear. Don’ make me tell yer womenfolk what cowards ye be,” he ordered. Reluctantly, three of the others bowed their heads and followed the dwarf.

That left only the Galar priest and another in front of the mage.

“And what do you want?” sighed Magnus as he pointed toward the other man.

“Me?” He asked innocently, with a hand pressed to his chest. “Oh, well I’d enjoy a bit of the spoils, too.”

“But?”

The man flashed a bright smile and brushed a perfect curl of black hair from his forehead. “Well, your tales will be recited far and wide across all of Rhelm?”

“They usually are,” Magnus answered sardonically.

“Then, I’d like to be mentioned in the story.” The man flashed another perfect smile. “I’d like it to tell,” he lifted his arms into the air, gesturing wildly, “of how Devon the Handsome—that’s my name—fought valiantly at the Battle of Minetown. How he single-handedly slaughtered several of the Culite followers, restoring peace, order and justice to the terrorized citizens of Minetown.” Devon smiled.

“Right. Consider it done.” Magnus gave him a slight push toward the gathering around Tobias.

“Can we talk about my payment now?” the Galar priest asked.

“How much are you asking?”

“Fifty kings.”

Fifty kings!?!?

“That’s my price.”

“How about twenty?”

“Twenty? You’re kidding.”

“Look—uh, what’s your name?”

“Timmons.”

“Right. Look Timmons, we don't have fifty Kings to give you. If you want to be remember in this historical battle as nothing but a gold sucking mercenary, by what the bards write, then there is nothing we can do to stop that. Right now we have pressing business of planning this battle and I don't have time to haggle with you over the cost of your support.

“Or you could—as Galar would want, no doubt—become part of a tale that will last through the ages. You could be remembered as one of the many hands that decided the fate of this town.

“If we live through this day, know that all goes in my report to the King; favorable or unfavorable." Magnus added. He pulled out another piece of parchment and scribbled a few letters across its face. “So, what is your answer? Lord Tobias will need to know if you will be included in our planning."

Timmons smirked. "You drive a hard bargain, mage. I could just as easily, of course, set myself up in some attic and peer through a crack in the wood to watch the battle. Then I can pen whatever song I want, showering whoever wins with couplets and rhymes.

“But...but I think you may just be able to do this. So be it - twenty kings, and I'll do what I can to heal and aid you and your allies. Fifty kings, of course, gets me into the thick of things. But, I guess I know your decision." With a sad sigh, the cleric stepped past the mage.

“Fine,” Magnus grunted, a frown etched deeply into his face. “Fifty kings.” The mage withdrew a bag and tossed it to the priest. Timmons smiled and bowed as he turned away. Instead of heading toward Tobias, he walked into the church.

“Greedy bastard,” Magnus murmured.

“Reminds me of someone else,” a voice retorted, causing the mage to jump. Motega grinned wickedly. He had been busy; a fresh Rorn symbol was painted upon his face in what appeared to be blood. With a quick glance, Motega found a fresh but shallow wound stretching down the length of the ranger’s forearm.

“I’m really not that greedy.”

“I know.” The Rorn reached for the shield resting near Magnus’ feet. Magnus leaned back slightly. Motega painted a similar symbol across the face of the shield. Standing, he admired his quick work. “Tonight, we are all Culi-kun. Brothers in this slaughter.” He placed a flask in the mage’s hand. “Take a drink now; it will steady your nerves.”

Magnus complied and Motega patted him on his shoulder. “Come, there is one other thing we need to discuss with our brothers.” The Rorn passed the mage, veering for Tobias and Fitz who now stood alone.

The mage paused, coughing a bit of the harsh whiskey up. As he lifted his foot, the warhorn sounded again.

-----------------

[1] - Motega has had many last names throughout the campaign. They were always something-kun. -kun is a suffix meaning killer. So, Culi-kun is Culite-killer. :D
 

Chapter 12: Bloodshed (Continued)

The Heroes were gathered outside the old church, soaking up the early morning rays. The Minetown Patriots, those six that could be gathered, were already moving toward their initial positions. Two climbed atop the old church roof; one with eyes to the North, the other with his eyes to the East. Devon the Handsome had climbed to his position on the top of a worn down carriage house, just within the stone casing of the holy temple. The deluded youth with the perfect smile watched the southern road. Meanwhile, Timmons and Cochly stood inside the church proper, allowing the Heroes one final, brief assembly.

Magnus sighed as the last of the buffs were cast. Tobias had swelled, his muscles fueled by the arcane arts. Each Hero also carried the blessings of Ceria to aid in the defense of Minetown.

“I see now why my father always said to enjoy each sunrise as if it were your last,” Magnus said. The bright rays were dancing across his face, diminishing the exhaustion and reinstating the mage’s youth.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Magnus lifted his shield and snatched a few potions from Motega’s haversack. “Hopefully there is some whiskey still left in the tavern. We’ll need it after this.”

Silently, the mage added his own prayer: Ammol, grant us the knowledge to win this day, so that we all may enjoy your next winter’s kiss.

The Rornman lifted his flask once again, draining the fiery liquid in a single gulp. He tossed the empty flagon to the ground, following it with a contented sigh. Knowing time drew short, he had to give his warning to his brothers in arms.

“I told Magnus earlier that we are all Culi-kun. We will survive; the Culites will fall. But on the field of battle you will see something I have yet to reveal to you.” The Rorn paused, allowing his words to sink in and making sure he had the group’s attention. Inside, Motega felt a bestial fury grasping the edges of consciousness, demanding its freedom.

“In my lands, I was the son of our leader—his youngest son. To rule, you must be strong and fearless but most important, you must carry the mark of the beast. I did not carry the mark and was defeated in battle by older brother. He did carry the mark.

“That is why I walk now with you. But in that battle, the mark was gifted to me by my brother’s claws and maw. Today, the beast screams for its freedom. You will see my demon first-hand. I will appear to you as both animal and man—just like the beast we battle before we reached this village.[1]” Motega looked at his friends, his brothers. “If I am unable to control the beast…”

“We will do what is necessary,” Tobias interjected. The paladin grasped the hilt of his blade to accentuate the point. Motega nodded in reply. The Rorn opened his mouth…

…but was interrupted as Devon the Handsome barked, “Archers to the south!” Tobias and Motega spun on their heels, each drawing their bows and sped toward the southern wall.

“You know what to do, Fitz,” Magnus stated. The mage popped a cork, drowning the contents. Before Fitz’s eyes, Magnus vanished. Only the archaic chanting of the mage alerted the cleric to his continued presence. But then the words stopped and Magnus’ body spiraled invisibly into the air, high above the deathly silent city.

Above, the mage narrowed his eyes, looking for clear foes. Motega and Tobias were engaged with the archers, a steady stream of arrows flew between the Heroes and a few buildings—the obvious hiding places of the Culites. Even Devon released a few shots but his untrained eye had problems guiding the arrow through the thick cover.

The mage lifted higher, rotating slowly, eyes continually scanning. He held the first of his innumerable scrolls, prepared to finish the incantation with just a moment’s notice.

At the north-western edge of the town, the war-horn sounded again. The sound seemed to come from a cropping of trees. The mage uttered the final word, centering its focus upon the vegetation.

The Culite scouts were perched upon the thick boughs of an oak tree, dozens of feet above the ground. There they had waited, sounding the war-horn and keeping their bows trained on the northern pass. One blew the horn again in salute of the small contingent which now came south.

They turned to look at the village as the tree limbs and parched leaves erupted spontaneously into a fiery deathtrap. Their charred bodies fell the dozens of feet to impact the ground with a final, lifeless thump.

From his spot above the city, Magnus admired his handiwork. A cocky smile stretched across his face.

-----------------------------------------

[1] – Motega is afflicted with Lycanthropy. He’s a werewolf. I’ve alluded to it before, although it wasn’t brought to our attention until this point. He gave up his animal companion as well as some other stuff for the disease. Destan also did away with the alignment restrictions—because we all have problems with the alignment system ;)
 

Chapter 12: Bloodshed (Continued)

Magnus made a mental note to collect the scouts’ bodies and gear after the battle was over while swallowing a second potion of invisibility.

One of the horadrel archers ducked away from the window of an abandoned home. His movement, belying training if not raw speed, saved his life. Three arrows slid through the window and lodged in the far wall of the room. Unfortunately the archer had not managed to avoid all of the projectiles. Two shafts—both from that blasted Rorn—were lodged in his left shoulder. He had broken the shafts; the arrowheads still send twinges of pain through his arm.

His companions, the two other archers, had not faired nearly so well, he feared. Both the paladin and the Rorn had concentrated their fire on his window. Either they were fools or—more likely—his companions were dead.

In the end it would not matter. The archer had his orders and they were only to cover the real first wave. Motion on his left drew his attention from the new barrage of missiles that poured through the window. Three shadows charged past the door, running full tilt toward the church’s old stone wall.

“Time’s up,” the archer murmured. He nocked a fresh arrow and pivoted to the right, taking a cursory aim.

Two slender arrows pummeled the horadrel in his gut causing the archer to release his shot early. As the arrow leapt high into the air and flew harmlessly over Tobias’ and Motega’s heads, the archer crumpled to the floor. Twin stains of red spread across the belly of his leather armor.

A painful cough rattled his lungs. Fluid, blood was filling his lungs. With a quick and painful movement, he snapped the shafts. Then he crawled toward the door, toward escape and freedom.

MORE!” bellowed Devon as three gruesome forms scrambled atop the wall. The young man released an arrow. It sped with deadly accuracy toward one of the three brutes but at the last moment spiraled and clattered against the wall, just missing its target.

That man, however, was forced to slide his hand away from the impact, bending his shoulder to avoid the bouncing projectile. He grunted as he lost his footing and slammed heavily into the barrier. He grasped the ledge with one hand, fingers bleached white with strain.

Tobias glanced at Motega and gave a curt nod. The paladin tossed his bow over the shoulder. With a long stride he charged toward the church and the only entrance into the courtyard where the new threat would arrive. Motega nocked another arrow and slipped into the shadows, edging closer to the archer’s last position.

Magnus had heard Devon’s cry as he circled above the city. To the east, the mage had just picked out a fresh target: a lone shadow creeping through the brush toward the stone wall. His scroll was at that ready but he mentally changed targets. Culites breaching the southern wall would be the worse threat.

The mage shimmered into existence as another bead of energy rocketed from his hand, toward the three brigands.

The Culite warrior finally released his grasp upon the edge. His fingers could only support his entire weight for a scant few moments. With a thud, the brigand landed on the dusty road. Above him, he could make out the laughing forms of the other two mercenaries. Cursing, he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

That was when he noted the bright red bead speed toward his allies.

Devon saw the bead as well. While not a smart man, Devon recognized the bead for what it was: witchery. Quickly the handsome—not courageous—fool spun like a top and raced toward the edge of the carriage house. He was not quite fast enough.

Magnus smiled as the bead exploded outward, a cruelly blossoming flower of flame. The two Culites on top of the wall were flung into the air by the heat and force. Even Devon the Handsome felt the burn as the roiling wave of death blackened the back of his leather armor and gave him an extra boost into the air from the carriage house roof.

The brigand on the ground through himself flat and managed to avoid the main blast of the fireball. Still, his hair burst into flame and his face blistered as the heat above him dissipated. The brigand shut his eyes and prayed through the pain.

Magnus whirled in the air, and kicked toward his soon-to-be-victim in the east.

Tobias barged into the courtyard, the dwarf Cochly close on his heels. They watched as the fireball expanded in slow motion, flinging its three victims—intentional or not—harshly into the air.

Cochly let out a low whistle.

The carriage house seemed to tremble as the arcane flames winked out of existence. A moment later a flash of flame and a puff of black smoke reminded Tobias of the unending drought that had gripped Rhelm. “Damn. He just had to choose fire,” he murmured.

“One’s on the ground,” Cochly spit, gesturing toward a brigand.

“Yeah, but where’s the other?” As if in response, a charred form lurched upward. It wobbled for a second, ash and dust falling in a continuous stream. It reached around, patting out a few smoldering wisps of flame on its back. Abruptly, it screamed a high, crazy wail. Then it surged into motion toward the paladin and dwarf.

Cochly lifted his axe, his small but solid arms and shoulders bunching to prepare a powerful two-handed swing. Tobias grasped the dwarf’s shoulders and shook his head. “That’s one of ours,” the paladin sighed.

The smoldering shadow, Devon the Once-Handsome, sped past the two warriors screaming like a girl. Cochly sighed and turned back to the bonfire.

The brigand on the ground twitched, drawing himself up just as his compatriot, who also somehow managed to survive the devastating blast flipped off the burning roof of the carriage house.

“Now its time for justice!” Tobias shouted, his blade flashing into a ready stance.
 

Chapter 12: Bloodshed (Continued)

The horadrel archer pulled his crawl to an abrupt stop in front of a hoof. The hoof lifted up and stamped down hard twice, an inch from the elf’s nose. Shaking with fear, the elf lifted his head to glare into the eyes of the monstrous Rorn centaur, Al’baku.

“You are a coward,” his deep voice boomed.

“No,” the archer hissed. “I will live to fight another day. That is not cowardice.”

The centaur snorted, tossing his braided hair about in anger. The archer cowered. “Where and who?” the half-man-half-horse demanded. It reared up onto its hind legs, pawing the air and then the ground as gravity pulled it forward. The inch between horadrel face and hoof quickly thinned.

“Th-th-the Rorn archer and the paladin. And the mage is around, too. Near the southern wall,” the horadrel sputtered.

“Good. I will crush them all.” Al’baku snorted and stomped the ground. Then he sidestepped his massive bulk to the right of the kneeling archer. “Your role in this battle is over.”

The archer lowered his head in thanks and rapidly snapped it upward in agony as Al’baku brought his considerable weight down into the center of his spinal column. Blackness filled the horadrel’s vision as a sick sinking feeling expanded within his stomach. Through the permanent icy grip of death, the archer could hear the centaur chuckling as he trotted away.

* * *​

Cochly grunted as the Culite’s sword pierced his chain shirt and bit deep into his flesh. The old dwarf cursed and spit and wrenched back, feeling the warm—still painfully warm from that damned fireball!—metal release a torrent of blood.

He stumbled back, gripping his axe more firmly. A cold tingle erupted across his back and spread to his ample belly, a stomach that had grown fat and ripe with age. The deep gash was quickly knitted back together, spurred on by the Galafar priest’s wand.

Cochly grinned as he stepped back into the fray, swinging.

“I was worth every King, wasn’t I?!” the cocksure priest barked as he moved to where he was needed.

* * *​

Motega growled with rage. He slung his bow across his shoulder, aggravated that the last archer had escaped.

The Rorn turned to the window and grasped the ledge. A sudden jolt shot down his body, arching his back. He tumbled backward, locked in agony as his body stretched and twisted.

LET ME OUT! boomed a feral voice in his head. Motega ran his fingers—no, now claws—across the wooden floor, digging shallow trenches in the oak.

The Rorn’s back arched again as several of his rips snapped unnaturally.

* * *​

Magnus descended into the topmost boughs of a large tree. Not sixty feet below, a lone orc stomped through the brush. The mage silently set his scroll in a crook in the tree branch. His hands began the intricate patterns of summoning one of the many spells he had prepared for the battle.

Another fireball would have been overkill for just a single orc, he knew. A better choice was something classic, something precise that could remove the threat quickly and simply.

It was at that moment Magnus realized he was mistaken.

Three boar-like beasts charged out of the brush, pounding their oversized tusks into the trunk of the tree. The mage twisted as the tremors rippled into his branch and then he was airborne.

Thankfully his spell for flight had not expired. Magnus scowled as his scroll was shaken lose and began its fall toward the earth.

With a near-growl, the wizard released his spell. Several bolts of bright energy fled from his extended fingertips, striking the orc squarely in the chest. Those bolts caused an arrow from the orc to shoot harmlessly into the dense copse of trees.

In that same instant, Magnus lurched downward, throwing himself toward his falling scroll and the fenboars[1] that grunted hungrily below.

* * *​

Tobias bellowed as he charged after one of the charred brigands. The bastard had danced nimbly around the heavily armored paladin, ignoring the real threat to speed toward the church.

At first, Tobias had thought the Culite would move to aid his fellow against Cochly. He never would have sloughed off the guilt if the honorable dwarf had fallen because he, a paladin, a protector of the weak was too ungodly slow. But the Culite had shown no desire to help his compatriot. No, the bastard was charging for the church and possibly his freedom.

Tobias would have none of it.

His speed increased as Cochly’s foe fell. The dwarf would be quick to give chase as well. Tobias had to get there first.

And then Timmons stepped into the doorway, his back toward the brigand. Tobias screamed.

But Timmons did not have enough time to spin. His simple robes gave no protection as the Culite’s rapier drove into his back and exploded out of his chest. The cleric’s heart was instantly split in twain before the cocksure cleric slumped lifeless to the floor.

The dead body did nothing to hinder the Culite’s speed. He wrenched his blade back as he simultaneously kicked the body out of his path.

Tobias and Cochly pushed even harder to close the gap but neither could move quite so fast.

A sound of metal on metal suddenly echoed out the open doorway of the church.

* * *​

Fitz had been standing in the street, the only member of the ragtag bunch waiting at the front of the church. Timmons had been there, but he had wandered off toward the sound of battle within the courtyard. Crazy Cargyle was around, too. But Fitz wasn’t quite sure where exactly he had wandered.

And so he stood alone, faith his main bulwark. An extreme amount of patience kept him rooted to the spot. The plan had to go through as discussed. He could not move from his position. One hand held a torch, the light flickering and dim in the early morning rays. With his other hand, Fitz rested the scythe, symbol of his goddess, against his body. He drummed a finger on its blade, trying to take his mind from the sounds of death that filled the air.

Timmons shrieked. Or maybe it was Tobias. Fitz was not entirely sure. The bellow had grabbed his attention and he turned toward the church to see the priest of Galar fall.

Instinct pushed him toward the church. The torch he flung aside, careful to keep it away from the oil-soaked earth. The scythe almost snaked into his hands as he plodded toward the door.

A Culite materialized there in the dark hollow, his rapier danced in a complicated routine. Ceria protected her followers, though. The blade missed the priest, instead slamming hard against the curving metal of the scythe.

-----

[1] – Fenboars - boars caught young within the Dead Fens to the south and trained to be fighting machines.
 

Chapter 12: Bloodshed (Continued)

Motega stretched out of the fetal position he had assumed on the floor. His claws, the claws of the beast had retracted. A faint red hue was all that remained; a scar on his flesh—the mark of the beast.

The Rorn quickly and skillfully checked his bow. No damage had been done it while he had fought the beast despite his violent convulsions. Shouldering the weapon, he drew his blade and leapt through the open window.

The street was empty. To the right, a smoking body laid upon the earth—no doubt one of the brigands that had tried to climb the stone fence. Motega smirked, considering a quick jaunt over to check the body and assure death.

He would have—but Fitz was no longer waiting in the street. The Rorn cursed as he charged forward. The din of battle sounded in his ears as he ran north.

* * *​

Halvar glanced to his left. The Rorn archer had been there a moment before but was now gone. Playing dead had worked. Thanking Cula Vak, Halvar awkwardly sat up. He pulled a small vial from his satchel and popped the cork.

The cool contents tingled as they spilled down his throat. Immediately some of his pain subsided. He could feel the burned skin of his forehead and nose peel away. Pink, fresh flesh was beneath; it eagerly replaced the damage.

His hair and eyebrows were another story. Only time would heal that damage. In the meantime, someone was going to f*cking pay. Why not start with that bastard archer? Then—well, then Halivar would move on to the mage.

The Culite stood and drew his sword. Quietly he edged along the edge of the stone barrier, moving closer to his prey.

* * *​

Magnus’ hand closed around the scroll.

Each of the fenboars reared up on their hind legs, stabbing the air futilely with their jagged tusks.

Magnus nearly vomited from their stench.

A quick thought adjusted his direction; he shot upward into the tree’s branches. An arrow sliced through the air, nipping at the wizard’s cloak. A thin line of red appeared on his arm, but the mage didn’t care.

He unraveled the scroll as he sped upward, calling a ravenous ring of fire down upon his foes.

* * *​

Tobias and Cochly scrambled into the church, each with their weapons at the ready. The Culite had made it to the door but was stumbling back toward them. Fitz was on the offensive, his scythe humming as he cleaved through the air.

Tobias’ greatsword lifted, shining as a holy smite, the wrath of Reddel, filled the blade. Likewise, Cochly pulled his axe out wide to the right and then snapped the heavy weapon left in a low and powerful arc.

Tobias’ sword cleaved down.

Fitz feinted left, causing the Culite to bring his blade to bear at the wrong angle. Quickly, too quickly for an armored priest, Fitz twisted and twirled the scythe in the opposite direction.

The brigand’s eyes opened wide as he felt his fate descending upon him. Out of the corner of his eyes he could sense more than see the tell-tale flicker of light playing across other weapons. And then he could see nothing.

Cochly’s axe shattered through bone and muscle, severing the Culite’s leg at the knee before digging hungrily into the next. Tobias blade sliced out and down, tearing through the man’s shoulder and torso, before becoming lodged in his hip. Fitz’s scythe created a clean cut, a farmer’s cut. It simply slid through the brigand’s neck, removing his head.

The head bounced against the wall of the church, splattering a line of blood along the floor and wall before settling to the ground. The Culite’s body fell as well, a deep red stain coating the hardwood floor slickly.

“Enjoy the darkness,” Fitz stated coldly. “Enjoy your God.”

“The torch?” Tobias asked. They turned as one toward the door. With a few steps they managed to circumnavigate the slick puddle safely and exit the church to see Motega charging.

* * *​

Bvarki screamed as the fireball exploded directly before his eyes, centered on his precious fenboars. He was blasted backward, his eyebrows vanishing along with the coruscating waves of fire. To tell the truth though, Bvarki’s lack of eyebrows could do nothing to worsen the half-orc’s scarred face. He was a hardened mercenary, his body tough and his reflexes sharp.

His fenboars on the other hand, squealed like common pigs as the spell flash-fried their flesh and hair.

Bvarki reached into his satchel, pulling three healing draughts. He rushed over to the devastating scene; all of his precious, precious pets were strewn on the ground. They cried and whimpered pitifully.

He had half a mind to smack them about for their weakness. But they were still fresh, still young; their training still incomplete. Perhaps that was why they had survived the flash-inferno. If Bvarki succumbed to his rage and beat them to death, it would not aid his situation. It would also be bad for business. Fenboars were dumb but strong animals. They took forever to train.

With a disgruntled sigh, the half-orc administered the potions to his pets. The change across their bodies was immediately. Growling, they climbed onto their hooves. Just as a reminder, Bvarki smacked them hard, fast.

“Let tha’ be a lesson ter yah,” he growled.

He took the lead, herding them north toward the edge of the church’s western wall. Soon, they would have their vengeance.

* * *​

Magnus had left what he thought were his dead foes behind. He had returned to a great distance above the city, taking it all in. The sun had not edged much higher in the intervening moments of battle. Its warm rays tingled across his face and body, allowing him to forget the slight burn of the scratch upon his arm.

A force was moving south, he noted. The mage prepared to unleash another of the potent fireball scrolls.

Beneath him and over the howling of the wind, Magnus heard Arad or Byk shout a warning. The two Minetown patriots had remained on top of the church, surveying the area despite the roaming battle in the courtyard. One screamed of the force to the north.

But the other patriot unleashed a flaming arrow. Magnus had been waiting for the sign.

He followed the arc of the arrow with his eyes. Striking the stone wall, it ended its travel prematurely. Magnus’ eyes scanned in the direction the arrow was heading…

Motega was charging up the street. Behind, one of the Culite brigands was trying to catch up, a vengeful blade trembling in his hands.

But the fool had run right into one of the mage’s traps. He just didn’t know it.

Magnus released the arcane energies of the scroll.

* * *​

Halvar was nearing his prey. Nothing, nothing could stop the pain he would deliver unto the Rorn’s body. And then, then the mage would be next.

A strange scent ticked the Culite’s nostrils. It was something familiar, something out-of-place in the street.

Oil.

He stutter stepped. He tried to pull to a hard stop. His momentum would not allow it. Instead, his feet slipped on an oil stone.

The sky was all Halvar saw in that instant. The cobalt was beginning to shift to azure; no doubt another rainless day lied ahead of Rhelm. Halivar noted the red bead that danced—slowly it seemed—toward him.

He was powerless to do anything. Gravity was pulling him and the bead toward the earth. He reached for a healing draught in his satchel but even his arm moved in slow motion. If only his mind could. If only he did not have to face his death knowingly.

Landing with a thud, the Culite knew it was over. The bead gathered itself up, right in front of his eyes. It expanded, ever so slowly, with a tremendous amount of heat and pressure. Sparks leapt out of its center; out of the fiery beast’s heart. The sparks impacted the road. Tiny flames and then larger sheets of fire rose from the earth toward the heavens.

And the bead continued to expand. Fire lanced into his eyes, burning straight through his sockets to massage his brain as the oil under his body—now all over his armor—ignited. The pain was dazzling. His flesh, instantly turned to fluid fell from his bones. His muscles baked; his bones charred.

The mouth of Hell opened around Halivar and drowned him in its eternal embrace.

* * *​

Motega fell into a tumbling crouch as a wave of fire nearly touched his body. The Rornman reserved a particularly nasty curse to use against that damned mage later.

But as soon as he went down, he was up again. He had no problems pulling himself to a stop just a little farther than his intended target.

Tobias, Cochly and Fitz rushed out of the church. The priest grabbed the torch, an intentional igniter for the oil slicked roads. They all felt the sudden heat of the firestorm as a wall of flame[1] fifteen feet in height flared into existence to the left. Solid black smoke billowed up into the heavens, an offering for the gods.

Motega stepped toward the fire, his eyes trained on the wall of fire.

He did not see the sudden appearance of a reptilian creature, hovering above the statue of Morduk on his side of the road. The creature had light green scales, tinted red which showed wherever its black robes did not cover. Its beady, black and yellow eyes swiveled menacingly on the sides of its thin, long snout.

It, the kobold, had just winked into existence as a bead of red energy sped from its extended talon.

Motega was quick; he heard the mad cackling of the sorcerer. But even he did not have enough time to take one final step, away from the oil drenched road.

The fireball blossomed around the Rornman, igniting the oil just as it had around Halivar. The flames leapt up, another sacrifice to the gods, as Motega was swallowed alive.

Tobias, Fitz and Cochly screamed as the burst of heat hit them, tossing them like rag dolls against the church.

Yapper cackled as he popped another potion. His reptilian form faded into nothingness.

------------------------------------------

[1] Well, poor man’s wall of fire, anyway. ;)

[2] You’ll note there wasn’t a [2] above. It is just an additional note referencing this whole battle. It has been…forever and a day or two since we actually played this out. My memory is fading. I have 30+ pages of notes to go off of. But, those notes don’t have round-by-round events, unfortunately. So, it is safe to say—that like always—I’m embellishing a little. But, as far as I know, this follows the events very, very closely with the exception of one or two glaring mistakes. :D
 

Chapter 12: Bloodshed (Continued)

The mage felt a surge of adrenaline tear through his body. He had no sooner released his most recent fireball before he was spinning again, marking the new targets charging toward the fray.

Movement along the northern wall drew his attention. There he spotted what seemed to be a man sitting atop a mount. The horse—Magnus assumed—was moving slowly, showing complete control despite the fiery carnage below. More control than a horse so close to flame should have, he thought.

The mage drew another scroll but more motion caught his eyes. He could just make out the form of a blackened body, darting north and then west around an empty home. Three smaller beasts followed in its wake. The fenboars, Magnus realized with displeasure.

“Dammit,” he cursed.

And then a bright flash of red and yellow and orange stole the mage’s train of thought. His head swiveled left to watch as Motega was swallowed alive by flames. Magnus howled in rage. Tobias, Fitz and the dwarf had been tossed haphazardly against the church, leaving the sorcerer unmolested.

The lizard-thing cackled.

Magnus triggered the scroll’s completion, unleashing another bead of flame toward his new target. But before the fireball could near its target, the sorcerer vanished.

No one steals my tactics,” he swore while leaping into a steep dive that would place him betwixt the two roaring walls of fire.

* * *​

Tobias lifted his head, a sudden jarring pain exploded down the length of his spinal column. He was slouched against the church wall, his blade lying inches from his limp hand. The metal was white hot; it released a steady stream of steam.

Ignoring the pain in his back, he stretched forward and grasped the hilt. The paladin could feel and smell his flesh boiling against the blade. Grunting, he stood and glanced toward the roaring fires.

Motega—Tobias could just see that outline of the Rornman’s silhouette within the flame—was trembling in agony. The shadow seemed to bend and twist within the flickering hell.

And then the dark shape crouched. Even crouching, it was larger than Motega. It could have been a trick of the light or off the constant shimmer caused from so much fire. That was Tobias’ thought just before the silhouette leapt upward and pierced the veil of flame.

It was enormous; almost twice the size of the Rornman. Black, shaggy hair smoldered across its flesh. With a head of a wolf—not to mention the eyes, ears, and oversized teeth—it was more beast than man. But its outline still held some similarity to a man’s. Flaps of skin, charred and dead, slid from the beast’s hide.

The beast’s nostrils flared, its arm darting out. But it found nothing but air where its claws landed.

And then another bead, Magnus’ latest casting, ignited above the creature’s head.

The werewolf twisted with impossible precision; it was almost a dance. The expanding fireball grasped futilely at the beast. But Motega—the werewolf—flipped unscathed through the fire. Even his smoking fur managed to touch the deadly flames.

He landed with a thud on all fours. The Heroes’ haversack dangled yet from his shoulder, smoking but unharmed. Motega’s bow was gone, probably still in the fire along with his sword.

Rearing up, he stretched his arms, his jagged claws toward the sky and howled.

Tobias stumbled back a step. He knew that thing was the Rorn. But he could not help his instant reaction. His sixth sense stretched outward, trying to fathom whether Motega was a force for good.

The werewolf pivoted toward the paladin, black eyes flashing red as Tobias’ sense tickled its own supernaturally augmented abilities.

Neutrality, cold and hard was all what Tobias observed. Neutrality as well as a hint of the feral, raging nature of the beast. It spun to the north, its hackles rose and it growled in fury.

* * *​

A ball of flame slammed into the abandoned home; Bvarki darted to the right and dropped into a roll. His pets came up beside his prone form, growling at the flickering flames. They nuzzled his face, leaving fat lines of thick, fetid drool across the half-orc’s face.

Cautiously, he pulled himself into a crouch. He began hissing and barking in no real language, motioning with his arms.

The fenboars nodded. They spun and fled toward the road leaving their master alone near the flames.

Bvarki grasped another healing draught, slurping the cool contents. He stood warily, eyes scanning the sky for that damned mage. The half-orc nocked an arrow.

Several bolts of pure white energy pounded into his chest as Magnus popped into view.

Swearing, Bvarki released the arrow. But it flew harmlessly through the sky as the mage darted away. The mercenary drew another arrow and plodded off after him.

* * *​

Motega darted toward the fire. The Heroes had been careful in laying the fiery trap. To the south, the road was filled with a blazing wall, impenetrable except by the suicidal. To the north, however, they left a short space in between the two sides of flame; a harsh tunnel that could funnel the combatants down.

The Rorn saw what lay at the end of that tunnel. A huge creature, half-man and half-horse stepped into his path. It had a bow drawn and a jagged, double-headed axe which had to weigh at least fifteen pounds hung from its side. The centaur—Rorn centaur, Motega noted—released two arrows before the werewolf could react. The shafts flew true slipping through Motega’s ribs and into his chest.

The werewolf howled in rage but refused to move. Something was triggering his senses—something reptilian. His ears perked, his nostrils flared. A few almost inaudible words drifted through the air.

Motega leapt upward, jaws slamming together as they snapped on the kobold’s invisible ankle. Still the reptile released its spell.

Several magic missiles leapt from its claw and pounded into the Rorn.

Motega did not even notice as his hands darted up to tear the now visible foe in twain.

* * *​

Tobias had walked toward Motega. Fitz and Cochly were also up and nearing. They all watched as the werewolf leapt and clamped down on nothing; he looked as if he were levitating. But the Rornman’s actions were followed by a torrent of cold-blood and the appearance of the enemy mage.

The three troops had no extra time to think about it as war cries erupted from the nearby flames. Their eyes swiveled, observing first the hulking form of the centaur. As he stepped back, the centaur smirked. Three orcs and a dwarf exploded into movement around Al’baku’s horse body. The orcs carried jagged falchions and bore a standard across their chest: a black hand. The dwarf wore a simple symbol—a black circle, the symbol of Cula Vak—and carried his own razor-sharp axe. He moved slower, as if savoring the carnage like a fine wine.

Just as the three orcs raised their swords to charge, three porcine beasts rounded the stone wall. They trembled as they spotted the flames, but their fear was drowned quickly by their training. They lowered their heads and charged through the legs of the orcs.

The beasts’ short legs worked viciously back and forth to propel their stout bodies forward. With their heads down, the fenboars promised pain and death upon the ends of their tusks.
 

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