The hobgoblin grunts, deflecting Arthorion's blade with her shield. "It is only fitting that you know the name of the one that kills you." She steps up and faces the former warrior head on, trusting her armor to keep her safe from Drako and Rayne.
Their distraction does throw off her attack, swinging her sword in a clumsy arc.
Rayne grins wickedly at the hobgoblin. "That so? Well in that case, I'm Rayne, and this is Arthorion."
Gripping her daggers tight she lashes out once again.
Kudera decides against joining in the conversation. The last thing she wants is to attract the hobgoblin's attention.
Instead of taunting, the witch stares at the hobgoblin, trying to weaken her defenses.
Arthorion ignores Kergri's and Rayne's exchange. He has nothing to say to the hobgoblin—at least, nothing his sword cannot say more eloquently. He moves around Kergri and strikes again.
Drako growls and bites again at the hobgoblin.
Dalvin elects to ignore the monster's taunts, moves closer and fires another arrow into the fray.
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Arthorion's sword cuts through Kergri, bursting her open as it enters her flesh through her right shoulder and stopping well into her torso. The miller pulls out the sword screaming wildly, and a violent gush of blood bathes his face. Time seems to freeze: he recalls all the many combats of his youth, skirmishing against goblinoids to protect the borders and people of his homeland. Above all, he remembers the real joy of killing, the inebration of a perfectly landed blow. He remembers how fighting went from duty to bloodthirst. His maddened eyes lock with Kergri's surprised ones. She drops her arms, defeated, still standing, but ready to fall. Is she smiling? Maybe, despite it all, she is content to have a soldier's death. Arthorion himself can no longer tell whether he is a soldier or a murderer. His rage starts fading as they stare at each other, and time resumes its natural flow when Dalvin's arrow thrusts into the goblin's stomach, finally sending her to the ground in a pool of her own blood. Arthorion lets his weapons down, breathing heavily. His angry expression turns into a frown as he turns around to look at Rowena, afraid of the look he might find on her face.
Dalvin stands frozen, hand still pulled back from having knocked another arrow ready to fire again. Clearly that wouldn't be necessary. He slowly returns the arrow to its quiver and puts away his bow. Dalvin quietly calls Drako back to his side away from the carnage, and looks between Arthorion and Rowena, worried about what was about to follow.
Arthorion's ferocity deeply disturbs Kudera. She had never seen the man act like that before. She's certainly grateful for his strength at a time like this, but she'll have to ask him in the future about where and how he acquired his skills.
Kudera looks back at Oreld and says, "What do we need to do to blow up this bridge? I don't know if we can survive another assault. We need to do this fast and we need to do this now."
After Arthorion finishes chopping into the hobgoblin, Rayne wipes at the resulting blood spatter on her face, smearing it across her skin as she look around her. She eyes the small building off to the side at the beginning of the bridge and sighs before turning back to the group. Her lifelong upbringing was telling her to check inside the building.
But her overwhelming desire to not die at the hands of a filthy hobgoblin was telling her to continue forward.
"Kudera's right. We need to bring the bridge down and get away from here." She grabs the powder at her hip and waits for instructions.
Kining steps forward, scowling. "Set your umgi bomb at the base of the wooden frame. It was temporary, meant to be knocked away when the bridge was finished. Wait till the rest of us are across, light it, and run like hell."
Nodding to Kining, Rayne turns to her companions and the ragged group they'd assembled. "Alright, well... you heard her. Get to the other side of the bridge so I can bring this thing down."
And hopefully not kill myself in the process.
She watches the group cross the bridge, gently tossing the pouch back and forth between her hands as she keeps an eye on her surroundings. When everyone is safely to the other side and away from the bridge, she places the bomb where Kining instructed and kneels next to it, taking a deep breath.
She strikes her flint with steel next to the explosives once, twice, three times before the bag of powder catches fire. She blows on it briefly to get the fire going then launches herself to her feet, sprinting as fast as she can away from the incoming explosion.
Kudera takes Rayne's advice and joins everyone else on the other side of the bridge. Before she does, she casts her Ward hex on Rayne once more, just in case the rogue encountered unforeseen difficulties.
Let's hope this works.
The witch holds her breath as she waits for the explosion.
Dalvin nods quickly and runs to the other side of the bridge, whistling for Drako to follow. As he watches the bomb be set, he covers the dog's ears and holds on to him to keep him from running away from the loud explosion.
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Rayne makes it to the treeline with her fellows before the bomb goes off. A bright light, followed by a loud whumpf of rushing air, sends dust and pebbles rushing towards the woods. With a groan, the stone bridge of Phaendar bends and warps before collapsing into the waters.
Beyond, a ceiling of smoke hangs over the city, reflecting the orange glow from burning houses. Ash drifts in the air like falling snow. The screams of townsfolk have died away, leaving an eerie silence broken now and then by the howling of wolves or the harsh tones of the Goblin tongue. Bodies lie in the streets, sprawled in pools of blood where they fell. It seems everyone else in town may be imprisoned or dead except for the hobgoblin invaders. Phaendar has fallen.
"We have to keep moving," urges Aubrin. "Put as much distance between ourselves and the hobgoblins before light."
"Aubrin's right," Kudera says. "As much as I want to stay and fight for Phaendar, it is lost to us. At least for now. The day may come when we can reclaim it, but it is not this day. If we want that day to come, we must run."
Kudera walks over to Dalvin and says, "Do you think you can guide us through the forest safely with so many people? I think you may be the only one intimately familiar with the place."
As the witch looks back at Phaendar for a final time, she realizes that the night hasn't been only tragedy. It's also been filled with hope. The hope of knowing they bested some of the hobgoblins and might be able to do it again. The hope of knowing that not everyone died so they can carry on. And the hope of knowing her guardian is still watching over her and, hopefully, the rest of those with her.
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Arthorion stops to watch the bridge's explosion, a wild blaze that marks the end of any chance of a peaceful existence for him. The now ex-miller stares blankly at the ashes of the town which has been his home for the better part of his life—both in terms of quality and of duration. "We're at war now," he says shaking his head and turning to Dalvin and Kudera. "This is not anywhere near over. You know that, right?" His trail of thought is interrupted by Aubrin's command.
Arthorion approaches Rowena and gently moves to take Flora from her hands, but stops suddenly when he senses his wife recoil ever so slightly from his touch. Stepping back, he lowers his head in shame and tries to brush it off. "It's better you take her. Maybe I should hold on to the shield and sword in case we're attacked again." He regrets the sentence as he speaks it, but it suddenly becomes very real to him: shield and sword are now the tools of his trade. He turns around, picks up some of the provisions the group has managed to gather, and follows Aubrin into the forest.
Dalvin feels himself breathe again as Rayne safely makes it across the bridge. He slowly tears himself away from the smoldering remains of the bridge and the burning city and finds himself watching the forest. A sudden pang of guilt hits the gnome as he realizes that he is the only one here at the moment who still has his home.
"We're at war now," he says shaking his head and turning to Dalvin and Kudera. "This is not anywhere near over. You know that, right?"
Dalvin silently nods. "I know. But Kudera is right, we need to keep going."
Kudera walks over to Dalvin and says, "Do you think you can guide us through the forest safely with so many people? I think you may be the only one intimately familiar with the place."
"Yeah, I can lead us through no problem." Dalvin surveys the crowd of refugees that they've rescued. "I'll get us to a safe place."
Despite Aubrin's insistence, the group of refugees struggles in the darkness of the Chernasardo woods. The lush canopy of the forest above blocks most light from the moon and stars, leaving visibility to what meager light the group can muster from torches and lanterns. Rolling hills, house-sized boulders, gullies, sudden drops, and thick stands of undergrowth make for difficult and dangerous travel.
Eventually, the tired and bedraggled group must settle down. The first night is spent in the rough. A pair of tents looted from the Ironfang soldiers are provided for the young and injured. The rest must spend the night outside. Thankfully, the night is warm, dry, and passes without difficulty.
In the morning, the light of day reveals the situation. A little more than two dozen survivors remain from the surprise assault on Phaendar. Their faces bear a mixture of anger, sorrow, and confusion. Morale is low and rations are meager. Aubrin sits on a stone nearby, eating a withered apple.
"Good, you're awake," she begins. "We need to get started."
Dalvin exits his tent exhausted, nightmares having kept him up all night. He surveys the disheveled group they've brought out into the forest. His home.
"Good, you're awake," she begins. "We need to get started."
Dalvin nods. "I can create water for everyone, though it might take me a while. And I can set traps in the woods to catch food," he adds, gripping his bow tightly. All these years spent in the forest, and the gnome hadn't felt fear like he did now since the Darkblight invaded his home.
After only a couple hours of rough sleep, Rayne wakes at the crack of dawn as usual, rising somewhat stiffly from the ground. After stretching the tightness from her body, she looks over the collected group as she joins Aubrin and Dalvin.
Dalvin nods. "I can create water for everyone, though it might take me a while. And I can set traps in the woods to catch food," he adds, gripping his bow tightly. All these years spent in the forest, and the gnome hadn't felt fear like he did now since the Darkblight invaded his home.
"I could go with you, if you want," Rayne offers, noticing the gnome's tense posture. "I'm no good at hunting, and I don't know the difference between a good berry and one that'll kill you, but..." She trails off with a shrug and a half smile. "I have other skills that could potentially come in handy. And at the very least, you wouldn't have to be out there alone." She glaces back towards the direction of town. "I don't think I really trust these woods anymore," she finishes regretfully.
"If any of the survivors have flasks, I can make a few potions each day. That way, if any of us get hurt in the future, you don't have to just rely on the abilities I have available that day."
Kudera looks a bit closer at Aubrin and says, "How are you feeling?"
Aubrin is still heavily wounded, although in no immediate danger.
The trauma caused by the ballista's bolt was such that no amount of healing magic will bring her back to normal. Only time will.
Aubrin waves away Kudera's concern. "I have a wonderful new scar and can barely walk on my own, but I will keep. My condition does not matter compared to our situation." She turns to Dalvin and Rayne.
"I can conjure water as well. If we gather every container we've brought with us, I can prevent us from sleeping thirsty. For food, we must organize who we have and task them with hunting, foraging, and building shelter."
"In the mean time," she continues. "You should explore the surroundings and see what or who we're near."
Exhausted from the previous night, Arthorion sleeps well into the morning, and wakes up startled as he realizes that the sun is already up. He sits up quickly, looking around and recognizing Aubrin's voice as she speaks to Kudera, Dalvin and Rayne. His eyes then fall on Rowena, who is sitting peacefully nearby, leaned against an old oak and rocking baby Flora in her arms. The woman looks at Arthorion and smiles kindly. He smiles back, relieved. Life is brighter in the morning, he thinks. She know I'm not a monster. The miller stands up, stretching his back and massaging hi stiff neck from the night spent on the rough ground of Fangwood. He walks up to Rowena and Flora and pecks them on the cheeks. "Good morning, love. Are you alright?"
A growling stomach suddenly announces the urgency of finding food for his family and the refugees in general, and the miller joins Aubrin and the others to organize the workforce. He arrives in time to hear the end of their exchange.
"I think I saw some goats and sheeps fleeing into the woods last night. We can try to bring a few of them back." He looks around the improvised camp, counting the number of survivors. "Oh", he exclaims with a frown, lowering his head. "Clem didn't make it, did she?" He takes a deep breath and starts thinking on practical terms again. "Well, we need to set up a decent camp. Kining could oversee that, she's got the skills." Arthorion then goes on sharing his thoughts on the assignment of tasks for the day.
"As for the four of us", he concludes, "I think I agree with Aubrin. we should scout the area and make sure we're safe from attacks."
Dalvin hesitates at the thought of scouting with the others, as used as he is to being in the forest alone, but ultimately agrees. "Yes, we'll be safer together. There can be worse things than hobgoblins in this forest." He suddenly becomes uncomfortably aware of the blight-burned scar on his chest. He had always managed to avoid going too deep into the Fangwood where the Darkblight had attacked so long ago, but now they might have no choice if the Ironfang begins to spread.
The gnome sees Drako sniffing around the camp and calls the dog to his side as the group makes their plans.
Rayne used to enjoy these woods. She'd spent a lot of time wandering them with friends as she grew up. Just one more thing the damned Ironfang had taken from her.
"We might as well just start walking for awhile and decide where to go from there," she says as she scans the trees, thinking. "There's a lot of ground to cover. I don't really think it matters where we start."
When the rest of the survivors are assigned to tasks in camp, Rayne takes off into the trees with her companions, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. There was no way she was going to let those goblin bastards take this forest away from her for long.
Kudera is surprised to find a small smile creeping across her face at Aubrin's words. Despite the cleric's situation, she's trying to make the most of it. Kudera hopes she would do likewise were their positions reversed.
"We'll take care of the scouting, Aubrin. Try not to move too much and get lots of rest. If you find yourself tiring from creating water, I can see if Dalvin doesn't mind doing a bit extra."
At her own words, Kudera glances over at Dalvin, hoping he doesn't mind her offering his services in the matter. The gnome has a good heart, so Kudera doubts he'll mind.
At Rayne's words, Kudera says, "Perhaps Dalvin should lead the way. If anyone knows how to get through these woods and not get lost in the process, I think it would be him."
The party travels northward for a few hours, although the trek is winding and difficult. Eventually, they come upon a clearing. In the center stands a massive and ancient oak tree, its roots crisscrossing the ground like the tendrils of some subterranean beast. A shadow beneath the tree marks the mouth of a den dug into the loamy soil. A tuft of pale grey fur clings to the edge of the hole, and a musky animal stink lingers in the air.
Afetr walking for hours under the thick foliage of Fangwood, Arthorion welcomes the rays of sun that bath his face as he steps into the clearing. Being in the open like this, makes him feel, for the first time in the day, liberated, like he is not hiding away. He looks around and spots the hole at the bottom of the impressive oak tree, but doesn't immediately notice any activity on the clearing. "Looks like an animal's den. Maybe we can hunt it for meat or fur," he says, staring at the ground and searching for tracks that may hint at the identity of the den's occupant.
It feels good to be spending time in the Fangwood's fresh air again, Rayne realizes as they walk. Even if it is with a bunch of people she probably wouldn't ordinarily associate herself with. They're good people, she thinks to herself. They don't deserve this.
She whistles as they come upon the clearing. "That's one hell of a tree," she says as she looks at it appreciatively. "It's an old forest. I bet there are more like this one throughout."
She nods to Arthorion in agreement. "Food is good. That's where you come in, Dalvin," she says, smiling at the gnome.
Kudera follows the others into the clearing. She has never been into the Fangwood before, so everything they see is something new to her. The ancient oak tree is just the latest new thing for her.
Seeing the fur and animal stink, the witch takes care to stay behind her companions. She's happy to help, but she doesn't think she's likely to last long against an animal's claws.
Kudera and Moz look around, trying to see if they notice anything out of place.
Dalvin peers into the hole, trying to make out what might be hiding inside, but the stink pervading the air distracts his senses.
"Food is good. That's where you come in, Dalvin," she says, smiling at the gnome.
He smiles back and pats his bow. "Let's see what it is first." Dalvin grabs the fur stuck to the side of the hole and looks at it closely, hoping to figure out what kind of animal is living in the den.
Kudera glances over at the fur as well to try to determine what type of animal it belonged to.
"The fur belonged to a gray wolf. We should tread lightly."
Kudera looks over at Moz on her shoulder and says, "Can you survey the clearing to see if the wolf is nearby outside its den? I don't want us to get snuck up on from behind."
Moz nods and takes flight, circling the clearing for signs of gray wolves.
Dalvin nods. "A wolf, and I can hear weird sounds coming out of the den. High pitched yelps and strange laughter." He takes a step back from the hole and places a hand on Drako as the dog growls at the sounds. "Easy, boy." He slowly takes out his bow and notches an arrow, not taking his eyes off the hole.
Moz perches himself once more on Kudera's shoulder and says, "I didn't see any wolves in the vicinity. If there are any around, they're probably in that den of theirs. Makes sense that a wolves' den would be where we would find wolves."
Kudera glares at the cheeky raven before shaking her head and saying to the others, "High pitched yelps and strange laughter don't sound like noises wolves make. If we're going to investigate, we should do so cautiously."
After no signs of anything ready to jump out and kill them, Dalvin lowers his bow. "I can try to creep down the hole and see what's happening." Dalvin approaches the den, holding his breath as to not breathe in the stench still in the air.
The den, which is really a small cavern, dips and turns to reveal a chaotic scene. Three wolf cubs are pressed against one wall of the cave, huddled in fear. A fourth has been dragged into the center by its scruff by a squat, blue-skinned humanoid that seems to be nearly all head. Its puffy face giggles with glee as a few others of its kind whip the cub with a willow switch, drawing pathetic whimpers from the cub.
The furious mother wolf is pressed paces along the other side of the cave, snarling. Four more of the small blue beings keep her away with tiny torches.
Dalvin quietly creeps back out of the den, keeping his eyes fixed on the strange big-headed blue creatures. "There's a family of wolves down there," he informs the others, taking out his bow, "Being tormented by some strange, big-headed blue things. I don't know what they are."