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"I tried to stop you, but you were too quick," Ping whispers back, equally frightened by the encounter.
Seeing Ulfbrecht moving forward, Ping tries to think of something she could do to help.
"Orcs are pretty stupid, right? Maybe I can lead them away or scare them off? I have a spell that can create a bear's roar."
Collectively you also note that the clamour from the orc hunting band has dropped a little - the squeals and grunts are more anticipatory rather than blood-lust filled.
However the additional sound of axe upon wood begins to echo through the weald...
Hûnidark advances quietly through the underbrush, using the trees and the orcs’ own noises for cover. His plan is simple… advance. If he goes unnoticed, attack by surprise. If he is spotted, charge in and start bashing. If the orcs managed to kill the cub before they were able to attack, everything they had done was pointless.
Stun (1):
Fate (3): x
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GHOST SOUND, Level 0 wizard, 0 illusionist
CT 1 R 150 ft. D 1 rd./lvl.
SV intelligence negates SR yes Comp V, S, M
Eerie rattles and wails, wolfish howls, warm laughter, quiet
conversation, the rumble of thunder and clash of swords, the
soft patter of bare feet; all these are sounds that can be created
with this spell. Thses sounds can seem to rise, recede, approach
or remain constant as the caster desires. Virtually any type of
sound can be produced, emanating from anywhere within
range, though the volume cannot exceed as much noise as four
normal humans could produce.
Small pieces of ear wax are needed to cast this spell.
With everything feeling as if it's going out of control all at once, Ping grabs onto a desperate idea. Orcs are dumb, she doesn't need Mos to tell her that much, but panic often robs one of sense, and Ping has little enough of that at the best of times if truth be told. A darting hand pulls out a lump of earwax as she begins to weave a spell. Her whispered chant takes on a life of its own as aims for a spot she can barely see fifty yards to the south. After a few moments of franticly moving the arcane threads about with her gesturing, she blows on the wax.
For a moment, it seems as if nothing happens.
Then from the spot she had chosen comes the great, angry growl of some massive beast.
As the echoes fade, Mos can hear Ping whispering over and over again, almost as fast as a hummingbird's beating wings, a prayer lifted up to any god that will listen.
"Please work!"
Ping works her magicks and a mighty roar echoes through the weald, as the sounds of crashing wood serves as a harbinger for the beast that surely follows!
En-masse the brutish band of orcs, halt in their tracks and their excited squeals turn to those fearful and more nervous perhaps...
"What fruk was that boss!?"
"Big bear come for cub! READY YER ARMS! Silver'ed arras maggots!"
The hacking axe work halts as the orcs murmur, squeal and grunt as the phantom beast of the Weald approaches. They begin to fan out, some moving gingerly toward the sound. From your vantages you see some bear bows notched with arrows that glint with silvered heads.
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Sneaking in behind the creatures, Mos readies his bow to fire from concealment when the time comes. He keeps Ping close by, protecting the gnome as she maintains her magic.