1. Out of the night

Dozens of slain orcs lay in a chaotic pattern around the camp site and their dying moans floated eerily across the air of the dark forest. Several among them twitched as their life blood ebbed away into the grass, feeding the unholy ground. In some places, the grass seemed to grow visibly as the liquid disappeared.

"We needs to rest," muttered the dwarf, as he brought soup from the caldron hanging over the fire to the bowls of those surrounding it.

"May Tunare bless you, and heal these wounds," whispered the nearby elven cleric, as blue light enveloped the body of a wounded barbarian comrade. The kilted warrior rose slowly, easing the pain from her limbs, and thanked the elf with a smile, a nod and a hand on the shoulder. The elf moved away, towards another resting friend. The Dwarf at the fire turned sharply as footsteps approached, reaching for his knife.

"Joman."

"Aye," replied the approaching wood elf. Garbed in leather armour, the ranger walked into the camp.

"I thought I'd make enough noise so even you'd hear me, Ganth," he smiled, winking at the Dwarf. Ganth chuckled deeply, and continued serving the soup.

"More orcs out there?" asked the Barbarian, as she sat to clean her sword. She was an impressive lady, easily passing six feet in height, garbed in a ringmail kilt, matching tunic and leather sleeves. The sword she cleaned was almost as tall as Ganth, forged from an unfamiliar metal: a family heirloom passed down from her father after his death. She bore the blue tattooed markings of both her clan and the protectors of her home village proudly, in contrast to her fierce red hair, cropped short and released from the helm she wore in battle.

"Didn't see any for the moment, but their camp is buzzing. I think they know we're here - this scouting party should probably have been back a while ago."

"Darn those scouting parties. We were getting close to their camp, too," exclaimed Ganth. "Poor Eltheria's getting tired with all this healing she's been doing. She needs to sleep some. Eltheria!"

The Elf walked slowly over and accepted the bowl of soup offered. She raised it with a smile in Joman's direction.

"Nice to eat some real food for once?"

"Tunare provides... but I must admit this rabbit stew tastes nicer than the manna provided by the Goddess, yes," she replied. "Quite how you managed to find one in this darkness, I'll never know, but I thank you for your skill."

"Just one of those sneaky ranger secrets," replied Joman, with a chuckle. "As for that camp, I spotted some kind of leader in there. He looked pretty big. From what I could see, they've called in all the remaining scouting parties, and they're waiting for someone. Damn! I wish I spoke Orc. They looked pretty excited, but I couldn't understand a word they were saying."

"Nowt on track, then?" asked the barbarian.

"Not at the moment. Calm down, Siobhan, there'll be more meat for your sword sooner than you think, and probably sooner than you want."

"Can't be sooner'n I want, woodsman. I still got a bone to pick wi'this scum."

Ganth sighed lightly. The whole party understood Siobhan's hatred: she had lost three brothers and both her parents to the orcs. Her family had moved from their home in Everfrost to set up home on the other side of the world here in the Faydark, near the elven city. When the orcs had begun pouring out of Crushbone, the whole family had signed up with the elven army to hold back the flood of evil, but Siobhan was away at that time. She'd been in Everfrost, fulfilling her family and clan duties with the warriors there. Upon her return, she had found the orcs repulsed, but her family dead. Her swords had rarely been in their scabbards since.

The group sat silently for a few moments, as they ate their soup. Around them, the trees of the Lesser Faydark seemed to mutter amongst themselves, whispering at the intruders to leave. A moan attracted the group's attention.

"Gueri... you alright now?"

The female erudite limped into the light of the fire. Her right leg was still badly wounded and scarred from the battle with the orc scouting party, but she smiled despite the pain. She was wearing an impressive, dark red tabard marked with unusual runes and carrying a club that glowed dimly.

"Better," she replied, in a strange accent. "Leg's still playing up after that spear. Thanks to Eltheria, I should be able to rest and look after myself in a bit." She accepted a bowl of soup from Ganth, who also handed her some bread.

"That's the last of the bread. I figure ye deserve it. Getting skewered with a rusty spear when ye're saving someone else's life deserves a treat." The rest of the team nodded, and Gueri raised the bread in silent thanks. She broke it into pieces, and handed each person a small chunk. Each of them tried to resist, but her silent smile stilled their voices.

"We're friends. We share," she said.

"Any news on that husband o'yours?" asked Siobhan.

"No," sighed the erudite. "I haven't heard from him in a couple of days. He said he was still stuck in High Hold, trying to find a druid friend who could open a portal for him to the Greater Faydark. The poor love's been over to Erudin in the library, trying to get hold of some new spells. He said he'd bring some fresh fish and some treats from the baker there when he arrives."

"Bah, that elf is never around when ye need him," Ganth snorted.

"He has his duties to the guild, and his life to lead. He's always here on important dates."

"I was joshin'," replied the Dwarf, with a smirk. Gueri smiled, a knowing smile.

"Wait up!" said Joman, urgently. His ears had pricked up, and he turned his head form side to side. "Something's coming. it's a way off, but it sounds like three or four lots of footsteps. Darn. They couldn't have waited an hour, for daylight?"

The whole group downed their soup in one swallow and reached for weapons. Joman picked up his bow, and loosened his whip. Ganth kicked some dirt over the fire as he picked up his spear and unsheathed his knife once again. Siobhan rose quickly, hefting her sword and, unsheathing a second, shorter sword, stood ready. The two clerics grabbed their weapons, and lined up behind the fighters.

"Definitely more than one. I'd guess four or five, at least," said Joman. "Heavy steps, and I can hear someone chanting. Sounds like a reconnaissance group to me. Watch out for the oracle."

Within a matter of moments, the orc group came into view. There were, indeed, several of them - Joman counted seven - and they were ready to fight. Carrying an assortment of weapons and growling aggressively, the larger, front orcs were followed by a smaller individual, around whom magical light played. Joman nocked an arrow.

"Best hit that caster first," he said, "or he'll be healing the others."

The arrow shot from Joman's bow, straight and true. As it thudded into the orc oracle, the other attackers screamed and charged towards the group. Ganth and Siobhan braced themselves for the onslaught, trying to position themselves between the enemy and their slighter friends. Joman dropped his bow and grabbed his whip and shield.

"For Kaladim!" "For Tunare" "Die you ugly scum!"

As the first orcs arrived, Siobhan waded into them, slashing violently at one with her huge sword, while parrying the attack of another with the smaller weapon. A huge grin spread across her face. Joman stood slightly to her left, and took the remainder of the attack, keeping his shield between him and one orc, while his whip cracked towards a second. Behind them, Ganth was moving quickly and quietly around the attacking beasts, and the two clerics began chanting.

Siobhan jeered at the orcs as she fought, taunting them into a rage. Her sword cleaved down upon her target and the orc could do little to stop it. Blood streamed from the creature's shoulder as the metal connected and cut through the rough cloth it wore. A second attack came in from her shorter sword, and the orc tried to stop the blow with its club, to no avail. Beside her, two more orcs slashed at her with rusty weapons, one grazing off her armour. The second sword connected, and drew a little blood. Siobhan roared in anger, as two more assailants headed towards her. Magical lights surrounded her as Gueri finished her spell, and Siobhan felt more balanced, more solid on her feet.

Joman was fighting the last two orcs just beside her. His blows were less skilled, but he fought with a grace the barbarian could not match. His whip slashed out and connected with an orc's face, opening a wide gash down the cheek. The beast screamed and thrust its spear at the ranger, who tried to block it with his small wooden shield. to no avail. The spear stuck into his side, and he stepped back a pace, grimacing at the pain. The second orc took advantage and dived in with its knife. The blade cut deep into Jomen's shoulder, opening an old wound as it sliced through his armour.

The orc oracle began chanting again, waving its hands in a bizarre fashion, as green lights began to form around it. Eltheria yelled a warning to the others, as she began chanting herself. Unable to pass the orcs in front of her, Siobhan launched a furious attack on the creature she had so recently wounded and landed a kick to its stomach. Winded, the orc doubled over, and Siobhan brought both her weapons down onto its back. The orc crumpled, as if a giant foot had stepped on it. Its brethren renewed their shouts and their efforts, hacking at the tall barbarian wildly. Several blows landed, and Siobhan grunted under their weight.

As the oracle reached the end of its chant, it suddenly stopped. With a look of surprise on its face, it reeled about, blood pouring from two huge wounds on its back. Behind it stood Ganth, spear and dagger raised, a look of contempt on his face. The rogue had surprised the creature completely and not only stopped its casting, but opened a long, wide wound all the way down its back. He laughed loudly and jabbed again with his spear, as the orc raised its own weapon to block.

"Och, Ganth! Nice 'un!" shouted Siobhan, as she hacked a leg off one of the orcs attacking her. Her pleasure was short-lived, however, as her blade stuck for a moment, and the two remaining orcs both landed well-timed attacks on her. She groaned as their weapons pierced her armor, and blood began to seep from her side. Cursing the beasts, she staggered back a step and braced herself again.

Joman was not fending so well, either. His shoulder wound was bleeding badly, and the two orcs he faced were pressing home their attack. He retreated slowly, as the blows rained down upon his shield. He could do little to attack them. Suddenly, red light flickered around one of the orcs as Eltheria finished his spell and the wrath of the gods struck the beast. It staggered backwards, its flesh shredding. The second ignored its fellow and pressed home the attack on the faltering wood elf.

Ganth was singing. He always did this when he was faced with an enemy and wasn't sneaking around. The others didn't mind - he had a nice voice - but the content of the songs was always something bawdy and inappropriate in battle. This time, it was something about the dawn, and how it rose like barmaids' skirts. At least it was vaguely appropriate - it was near dawn now. His spear jabbed repeatedly, his knife flashed back and forth. The oracle was not, however, an easy target. Summoning a short chant, it launched a magical attack against the sturdy rogue, bruising him and pushing him back. Ganth chuckled.

"That the best ye can do, eh?" he exclaimed, charging back into the fray. He moved quickly for one so stout, edging round the orc, trying to find a way to plant his dagger in its back once again.

Siobhan was fading fast. With so many attackers, she had been wounded many times, and even her immense strength could not sustain her forever. Gueri had noticed, and had begun a healing incantation. Eltheria was sitting, meditating intensely. Blue light soon surrounded the tall barbarian, and she grinned a wry grin. The orcs she fought glanced at each other, and one headed off towards the erudite, as the other attacked Siobhan to keep her attention.

"Not so fast, scum!" shouted the warrior. She slashed at the passing orc and connected, with her family heirloom. There was a sound like ice creaking under a great weight as the weapon connected, and the orc froze solid, then crashed to the ground.

"That was fer you, pap," muttered the barbarian.

Joman was now chanting. He looked very badly wounded, and the two orcs were still beating on him with a fury unexpected of such normally cowardly beasts. He tried to protect himself, risking an occasional flash of his whip at the orc on his right. Of the two, this one was weak now, but the constant battering on Joman's shield kept him from concentrating and the second, stronger orc was using the situation to its advantage. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, the weaker orc stumbled forward and fell. Its compatriate looked over in astonishment, to see Gueri standing behind the fallen corpse, her club spattered with blood. She smiled at the second orc.

"Hail, orc centurion," said Gueri, in mock salute, and leapt into the fray. Blue lights flashed around Joman, as Eltheria released a healing spell and Tunare's blessings fell upon the wood elf. He roared with pleasure and began whipping the orc rapidly as it flailed, unsure of who to fight.

Ganth's song was in full swing now. The orc caster looked in a bad way, as a blast of Eltheria's deific wrath hit it and the dwarf slashed quickly. It began to chant again, concentrating itself on the words and ignoring the pain of its wounds. A green, sickly glow spread around it, then shot towards the dwarf. As it hit, the rogue's dagger sparkled and flashed, absorbing the incoming magic and dissipating it harmlessly. The orc looked scared, and began to run.

Siobhan was mopping up her remaining attacker. Under such an intense rain of blows, the orc didn't know what to do. It tried to parry the big sword, and got hit by the little one; it dodged the little one and found itself on the end of the barbarian's boot; it ducked the boot and found her longsword coming up from below. the orc turned tail and fled.

"Runners!" shouted Eltheria.

Joman broke off his attack on the orc between him and Gueri. With a few well-chosen words, the grass under the running orcs' feet grew suddenly, trapping them and slowing their progress. Gueri smashed her club into the orc between her and Joman, stunning it for enough time to finish it off. Siobhan and Ganth chased gleefully after the fleeing orcs and finished them mercilessly.

Dawn broke. As the friends looted the orcs' bodies, Ganth whooped with joy. The others turned in surprise, to see him holding up a small bag.

"Ye're not going to believe this. he's a-carryin' some right tasty bixie meat!"

The others looked at each other and laughed. Ganth's stomach was made of steel.