2. Fear and Loathing in Lesser Faydark
"Dawn" was a relative term in the Lesser Faydark. Although the sun had risen, it had difficulty penetrating the canopy of trees, and the evil seeping from the ground seemed to resist the light. A sort of dull green haze settled on the low hills as the group gathered their equipment and extinguished their fire.
The night's events had taken their toll on each of the travellers. Ganth looked weary from staying alert on watch. Joman had slept fitfully, moaning occasionally as the newly opened wound in his shoulder aggravated him despite the healing chants of his companions. Siobhan never slept well - she turned and growled in her sleep every night as troubling dreams of her dead family came to her, undoubtedly hurried into her head by the evil place they were in. The two clerics had remained up most of the night, meditating and healing their friends.
"Righto, you lot," said Ganth. "It's time for us to be movin' on towards that there camp. That is, if you all still feel up to it after so many scoutin' parties last night."
Siobhan shot the dwarf an angry look.
"Alright, alright, biglegs. no need to get yerself in a tizzy. We'll be goin' orc huntin', never fear."
"Damn right," muttered the barbarian.
Joman shouldered his shield with a slight groan, picked up his pack and kicked a little more dirt over the fireplace. He looked around at the surrounding trees, seemingly adjusting himself to the different sounds of daytime wildlife. Tilting his head to one side, he spoke: "Nothing much out there, from what I can tell. Some spiders, and I can hear a fey drake fluttering around somewhere. Looks like we have a bit of a reprieve from the night assaults, at least long enough to make good time towards the encampment."
"You'll be scoutin' ahee'd, I warrant?" asked Siobhan. Joman's nod was his only reply, and he was off into the trees, moving silently and swiftly.
The four remaining group members hefted their packs onto their backs and kicked the dirt off their boots. They headed in the same direction as Joman, but moving slower, knowing he would return with news of anything on the route ahead. They walked silently, apart from Ganth who hummed a little tune, keeping their hands near their weapons and scanning the surrounding woods for signs of life.
The group had walked for about an hour when they saw Joman coming back. He approached at a gentle jogging pace, and with a broad smile. Obviously, he had news to report.
"You won't believe who I just ran into," he chuckled. "Powder!"
The rest of the group all grinned: "How is the little turd?" asked Ganth, gleefully.
"Oh, the same as usual," Joman replied. "He's been travelling locally looking for something for the temple in Kaladim. You know he's moving up in their circles these days - 18th Tunarian now."
"I thought you looked pretty buff," Gueri commented, "and that shoulder looks much, much better."
"Like a newborn," the wood elf grinned, flexing his arm. "I found the camp, too." His smile became somewhat smaller, and he fidgeted slightly in place. "It doesn't look good - they're alert and there's a lot of them around."
"Och, that won't be stopping me goin' in there and slaughterin' the scum," commented Siobhan belligerently. The rest of the group looked at each other. When Joman said something was risky, he meant it, but it would be difficult to convince the barbarian to leave when they were so close.
"Ah, well. let me 'ave a sneak around in there, and I'll let ye know what I think," sighed Ganth. Eltheria patted him gently on the shoulder, out of sight of Siobhan's icy regard.
The next hour passed slowly for the waiting friends. They always worried when the little rogue went off on his own into an enemy camp: he was quick and quiet, but stout as he was, if he were to be discovered he'd be lucky to make it back alive. Eltheria worried the most. Born to a high-elven family of some note in Felwithe, she had been travelling with Ganth the longest. She had saved his life some months before when she met him running from goblins in the Butcherblock Mountains. Seeing just a short, muscular mass charging towards her shouting "Outta tha way there!", she had been somewhat stunned, but had noticed his wounds nonetheless. As he passed, she had healed him, and he had stopped. Together they faced the odious green monsters and had prevailed - since that day, they had become firm friends.
The sound of singing reached Joman's ears first. He rose quickly, and the others followed him. Ganth was returning, and singing a happy little ditty about how the sirens in the Ocean of Tears would be prettier if they had beards. He walked back into their temporary camp and announced his news.
"Eight of 'em in camp, and two magic types. The leader's some local chieftain or other, and ye'll be pleased to know he's a big brute, Siobhan. Four set lookouts on the bound'ries, two patrolling lookouts in addition. We've got our work cut out here. And I be carrying some bad news, too."
The others looked worried. If that was the good news. what was the bad?
"There be someone else in camp. An inky."
Eltheria closed her eyes. Ganth laid his hand on her waist and spoke again: "I know, Eltheria. Ye hates it when ye sees one of the fallen. But there ain't nothing ye can do fer 'em now, and ye knows it." Eltheria nodded weakly.
"Well, I suggest I go with Ganth and one of you two to clear up some of those outlying problems," said Joman, indicating the clerics. Siobhan opened her mouth to speak, but Joman continued. "Before we get to the real fighting, of course." The barbarian closed her mouth.
"We'd best be waiting for darkness then?" asked Ganth.
"Aye."
******
As night fell, the group found themselves better rested. They had camped in a spot off the common trails and hunting paths used by the creatures in the wood, and had been able to eat, sleep and relax without harassment. With darkness closing in, Ganth, Eltheria and Joman prepared themselves for a stealth attack.
Leaving the camp, Joman led the way. He moved silently, quieter even than Ganth. Within minutes, the trio were within sight of the first of the guards - an ugly blue creature standing on a small hill, surveying the surrounding trees. Joman nocked an arrow as Ganth slipped away into the darkness.
The orc looked surprised when the arrow hit it, landing squarely in its chest. It stood silently for a moment, considering the wooden shaft protruding from its torso, then, with a start, headed in Joman's direction. The wood elf was waiting, whip in hand, as it arrived, and blocked its initial blow. Behind the orc, Ganth appeared from the darkness and planted his knife into the beast. It let out a short scream, cut off by Joman's whip wrapping itself round the orc's throat and finishing its life.
"That went well," noted Joman.
The second and third sentries followed the first quietly. As the group approached the final sentry, Eltheria stopped them with a whisper. She had seen two more orcs headed in their direction, patrolling through the woods on the outskirts of the camp. Both approached the sentry and stopped to speak in the gruff orc tongue, as the trio considered their next move.
"I suggest we wait for them to move away again," whispered Joman.
"Aye, but what if they find the dead sentries?" asked Ganth. Eltheria nodded. Joman considered their options. As he was about to speak, one of the patrolling orcs saluted the other two and moved away. The wood elf looked at his companions meaningfully. Ganth nodded. Slipping quietly away into the trees, the trio soon dispatched the orc, and returned to the other two.
"I think if I invoke the fear of the Goddess in one of them, he'll run for the other sentries," suggested Eltheria. "Since they're dead, that should give us time to deal with his friend."
"Good idea," agreed Ganth. He and Joman prepared themselves as the high elf began chanting quietly. Ethereal skulls appeared in the air around the orc patroller, wailing and shrieking at it, spinning in a stomach-churning manner. The orc raises its arms and ran into the woods towards one of the sentry positions, as the second raised its weapons. It charged the trio but, outnumbered, it fell quickly. Moments later, the second orc returned, having found the sentries dead, and followed the fate of its companion.
"Job done, friends. Excellent work," Joman remarked. The other two smiled slightly, pleased with their work, and the trio headed back to find the rest of their group.
Siobhan was on watch as they approached, and challenged them with her thunderous voice. They hailed her and walked into the camp.
"No more patrols tonight," said Ganth. Siobhan smiled, and Gueri approached to check for wounds. "It's alright, milady, no injuries this time."
Grouping together, the five friends extinguished their fire and prepared themselves for the attack on the camp. The worried looks on their faces told more than their words could say - they were not sure they would all come back alive.
"Dawn" was a relative term in the Lesser Faydark. Although the sun had risen, it had difficulty penetrating the canopy of trees, and the evil seeping from the ground seemed to resist the light. A sort of dull green haze settled on the low hills as the group gathered their equipment and extinguished their fire.
The night's events had taken their toll on each of the travellers. Ganth looked weary from staying alert on watch. Joman had slept fitfully, moaning occasionally as the newly opened wound in his shoulder aggravated him despite the healing chants of his companions. Siobhan never slept well - she turned and growled in her sleep every night as troubling dreams of her dead family came to her, undoubtedly hurried into her head by the evil place they were in. The two clerics had remained up most of the night, meditating and healing their friends.
"Righto, you lot," said Ganth. "It's time for us to be movin' on towards that there camp. That is, if you all still feel up to it after so many scoutin' parties last night."
Siobhan shot the dwarf an angry look.
"Alright, alright, biglegs. no need to get yerself in a tizzy. We'll be goin' orc huntin', never fear."
"Damn right," muttered the barbarian.
Joman shouldered his shield with a slight groan, picked up his pack and kicked a little more dirt over the fireplace. He looked around at the surrounding trees, seemingly adjusting himself to the different sounds of daytime wildlife. Tilting his head to one side, he spoke: "Nothing much out there, from what I can tell. Some spiders, and I can hear a fey drake fluttering around somewhere. Looks like we have a bit of a reprieve from the night assaults, at least long enough to make good time towards the encampment."
"You'll be scoutin' ahee'd, I warrant?" asked Siobhan. Joman's nod was his only reply, and he was off into the trees, moving silently and swiftly.
The four remaining group members hefted their packs onto their backs and kicked the dirt off their boots. They headed in the same direction as Joman, but moving slower, knowing he would return with news of anything on the route ahead. They walked silently, apart from Ganth who hummed a little tune, keeping their hands near their weapons and scanning the surrounding woods for signs of life.
The group had walked for about an hour when they saw Joman coming back. He approached at a gentle jogging pace, and with a broad smile. Obviously, he had news to report.
"You won't believe who I just ran into," he chuckled. "Powder!"
The rest of the group all grinned: "How is the little turd?" asked Ganth, gleefully.
"Oh, the same as usual," Joman replied. "He's been travelling locally looking for something for the temple in Kaladim. You know he's moving up in their circles these days - 18th Tunarian now."
"I thought you looked pretty buff," Gueri commented, "and that shoulder looks much, much better."
"Like a newborn," the wood elf grinned, flexing his arm. "I found the camp, too." His smile became somewhat smaller, and he fidgeted slightly in place. "It doesn't look good - they're alert and there's a lot of them around."
"Och, that won't be stopping me goin' in there and slaughterin' the scum," commented Siobhan belligerently. The rest of the group looked at each other. When Joman said something was risky, he meant it, but it would be difficult to convince the barbarian to leave when they were so close.
"Ah, well. let me 'ave a sneak around in there, and I'll let ye know what I think," sighed Ganth. Eltheria patted him gently on the shoulder, out of sight of Siobhan's icy regard.
The next hour passed slowly for the waiting friends. They always worried when the little rogue went off on his own into an enemy camp: he was quick and quiet, but stout as he was, if he were to be discovered he'd be lucky to make it back alive. Eltheria worried the most. Born to a high-elven family of some note in Felwithe, she had been travelling with Ganth the longest. She had saved his life some months before when she met him running from goblins in the Butcherblock Mountains. Seeing just a short, muscular mass charging towards her shouting "Outta tha way there!", she had been somewhat stunned, but had noticed his wounds nonetheless. As he passed, she had healed him, and he had stopped. Together they faced the odious green monsters and had prevailed - since that day, they had become firm friends.
The sound of singing reached Joman's ears first. He rose quickly, and the others followed him. Ganth was returning, and singing a happy little ditty about how the sirens in the Ocean of Tears would be prettier if they had beards. He walked back into their temporary camp and announced his news.
"Eight of 'em in camp, and two magic types. The leader's some local chieftain or other, and ye'll be pleased to know he's a big brute, Siobhan. Four set lookouts on the bound'ries, two patrolling lookouts in addition. We've got our work cut out here. And I be carrying some bad news, too."
The others looked worried. If that was the good news. what was the bad?
"There be someone else in camp. An inky."
Eltheria closed her eyes. Ganth laid his hand on her waist and spoke again: "I know, Eltheria. Ye hates it when ye sees one of the fallen. But there ain't nothing ye can do fer 'em now, and ye knows it." Eltheria nodded weakly.
"Well, I suggest I go with Ganth and one of you two to clear up some of those outlying problems," said Joman, indicating the clerics. Siobhan opened her mouth to speak, but Joman continued. "Before we get to the real fighting, of course." The barbarian closed her mouth.
"We'd best be waiting for darkness then?" asked Ganth.
"Aye."
******
As night fell, the group found themselves better rested. They had camped in a spot off the common trails and hunting paths used by the creatures in the wood, and had been able to eat, sleep and relax without harassment. With darkness closing in, Ganth, Eltheria and Joman prepared themselves for a stealth attack.
Leaving the camp, Joman led the way. He moved silently, quieter even than Ganth. Within minutes, the trio were within sight of the first of the guards - an ugly blue creature standing on a small hill, surveying the surrounding trees. Joman nocked an arrow as Ganth slipped away into the darkness.
The orc looked surprised when the arrow hit it, landing squarely in its chest. It stood silently for a moment, considering the wooden shaft protruding from its torso, then, with a start, headed in Joman's direction. The wood elf was waiting, whip in hand, as it arrived, and blocked its initial blow. Behind the orc, Ganth appeared from the darkness and planted his knife into the beast. It let out a short scream, cut off by Joman's whip wrapping itself round the orc's throat and finishing its life.
"That went well," noted Joman.
The second and third sentries followed the first quietly. As the group approached the final sentry, Eltheria stopped them with a whisper. She had seen two more orcs headed in their direction, patrolling through the woods on the outskirts of the camp. Both approached the sentry and stopped to speak in the gruff orc tongue, as the trio considered their next move.
"I suggest we wait for them to move away again," whispered Joman.
"Aye, but what if they find the dead sentries?" asked Ganth. Eltheria nodded. Joman considered their options. As he was about to speak, one of the patrolling orcs saluted the other two and moved away. The wood elf looked at his companions meaningfully. Ganth nodded. Slipping quietly away into the trees, the trio soon dispatched the orc, and returned to the other two.
"I think if I invoke the fear of the Goddess in one of them, he'll run for the other sentries," suggested Eltheria. "Since they're dead, that should give us time to deal with his friend."
"Good idea," agreed Ganth. He and Joman prepared themselves as the high elf began chanting quietly. Ethereal skulls appeared in the air around the orc patroller, wailing and shrieking at it, spinning in a stomach-churning manner. The orc raises its arms and ran into the woods towards one of the sentry positions, as the second raised its weapons. It charged the trio but, outnumbered, it fell quickly. Moments later, the second orc returned, having found the sentries dead, and followed the fate of its companion.
"Job done, friends. Excellent work," Joman remarked. The other two smiled slightly, pleased with their work, and the trio headed back to find the rest of their group.
Siobhan was on watch as they approached, and challenged them with her thunderous voice. They hailed her and walked into the camp.
"No more patrols tonight," said Ganth. Siobhan smiled, and Gueri approached to check for wounds. "It's alright, milady, no injuries this time."
Grouping together, the five friends extinguished their fire and prepared themselves for the attack on the camp. The worried looks on their faces told more than their words could say - they were not sure they would all come back alive.