The day was a good yet bad one for Fireteam Alpha. It was 'field test' day and their gear performed well. There was no need for bandages for the first time since they started fighting Orcs. There was one problem, though. Somehow there were fewer orcs around. Fireteam Alpha actually had a standoff with another party for spots. Being driven off by superior numbers of the other party, they finally managed to get a trio. Orc 1 was the Armoured variant in scale, helmet, sword and shield. Orc 2 was a Berzerker, with less armour, but faster and stronger. Sometimes Berzerkers carried twin weapons, sometimes savage, double-handed swords or axes. Orc 3 was the greatest danger right off the bat. Orc Archers carried bows with draw weights even human Archers had trouble with. Their arrows were slightly longer and heavier, like miniature ballista bolts. With barbed heads, the arrows often bled a person out. It was hard to extract and usually had to be pushed through the other side and snapped off. The only thing stopping the existence of more Orc Archers was their martial habit of close combat and duels.
Fortunately, this was a duelling day. Orc 2 told the rest to wait and advanced alone. Roland felt thankful. What few encounters with Archers never turned out good. It didn't matter if he fired first. The orc tends to survive and lets loose, usually targeting Demit. Intelligent bastards, killing the priest first. Demit was gung-ho about the whole situation, but there was this protectiveness each member had for one another which would not stand it. Just in case, a new way of advancing was suggested by Brewary, where Demit stood behind him, one hand on his back, then appearing from the left and right when the fight connects. She hated it, but then the strategy of armour and practical advancing methods from the Warrior's perspective were explained to her, in which she grudgingly gave in. 'It's a move used by armoured Warriors to advance with less armoured companions', was the explanation by Brewary. It's actually something called "To protect a Lady", a training routine where a Warrior may have to protect vulnerable, high value targets like a noble Lady, which he cleverly did not mention because Demit would rather try swat Orc arrows with her staff than be 'protected like a lady'.
"Get it, soldier", said Demit. Brewary advanced. Much to the shame of humans(by Orc standards), they ignored the unwritten rules of single combat the most. Who can blame the humans, who on average are weaker? Still, many Orcs tried, even if the human party charges immediately, interrupts the duel or moves to get revenge if the Orc wins. The first time a duel was proposed, they were lucky. Thinking Orcs wouldn't range out that far, they blundered around a bend right into waiting Orcs. The challenger, an Armoured Orc, pointed its weapon at Brewary while its companion kept its weapon sheathed and its stance passive (by Orc standards). Were that to be an ambush, at least 2 members would have died. Brewary won by the skin of his teeth with Steel Guard, as that fight tore the breastplate off his Cuirass and gave him heavy bleeding. When the orc died, the companion readied its weapon and backed away, expecting to be attacked by dishonourable humans. They kicked themselves that night for blundering into a potential ambush and from that point, Jakson always ranged ahead. It also started something new; Fireteam Alpha would never dishonour a duel they didn't want, flatly refusing outright if challenged. They put it to the test the next duel; Brewary was challenged but he shook his head and did not advance. The orcs charged as a team to punish them for turning down such an honour, and punish they did. That was the fight that bent Brewary's Zweihander. The sword he picked off a dead Berzerker to defend himself looked like an oversized Warbrand.
Back to the present, Brewary and Orc 2 stopped just outside of weapon range. The orc began by saying its name, whose language made no sense to humans, but based on the situation that was the most likely thing to say.
"Brewary of Fireteam Alpha, Scarlet Pimpernel." They took their stance. Brewary stood with knees bent slightly, body facing a little to the side, the Zweihander held almost vertically. As was the custom of the Berzerker, it charged first.
After that fight, the other 2 orcs backed away, With Jakson and Demit standing behind a panting Brewary for cover. Easy… easyyy… don't pull that bow. That's right. Get outta here. Some distance away, the orcs turned and left. Brewary laughed. They had finally settled into routine. The dead orc was looted.
Searching for more orcs brought them closer to Deadhead Watching Keep. Its outer walls looked about 2 or 3 times the height of a person. Surrounding the keep are camps. This was the Orc base, where they ranged out and came in contact with human Volunteer Soldiers. There was a large gathering of orcs there. Using Quick-eye and Stop-eye, he could see human heads on pikes. They didn't dare risk getting too close. Orcs ran faster and their bows shot father.
"Can't see shit", said Demit.
"Let's just keep looking somewhere else", said Brewary. He was in a good mood. They walked some more when another party crashed through the brush.
"Orc raid! Back to Alterna now!". Hearing this, Roland, Brewary and Jakson turned to run but Demit stopped them.
"Oh, you're going to sprint all 6 clicks back to Alterna? Stop being a bunch of pussies and double time. Move move move!"
They jogged the way back, trying their best to cut through bushes where the paths bended. They were among other teams who all ran the distance. Some who spent their energy sprinting were left behind. A rumble followed in the distance. It wasn't till open ground that each looked back and almost stopped. A small Orc army was advancing, and they weren't walking. Leading them was an orc in black armour and what looked like an orange striped pelt. Demit shoved them all into movement.
Some other teams were also sensible, jogging instead of running full tilt in panic. They arrived at Alterna with the bells ringing repeatedly in alarm. The gate was about to be closed and barred. Any Volunteer Soldiers who lagged behind would be left outside to die.
"West Town, nothing to loot there", suggested Roland. They needed a place to catch their breath.
"We are holding this gate, soldier."
"No, we are not", said Brewary.
"Move in some more, let them spread out a little. Then the guards and any Volunteer Corp party will fight them", said Roland.
"And let them in and come after the people of the town?", argued Demit.
"Spicy, spicy Paprika. Concentrated around this gate, you'd need an army to stop them. Don't tell me you don't already know that?", said Brewary. They jumped as the gate was banged from the outside. The orcs had brought a battering ram.
"Why only we stand here?", asked Jakson, annoyed. Roland was right. Even the guards had bolted deeper into the city where the streets would separate the orcs and they could be dealt with separately by parties.
"West Town. Let's go." said Roland. The men moved first. Demit cussed and followed.
"Fucking incompetent. What kind of government doesn't guard its own gates?".West Town was a good choice because it was less populated. The markets and richer corners were thronged by a mass of people running for safety. Less experienced Volunteers, citizens, crafters, smiths and anyone not for fighting were climbing over each other to save themselves. Roland noticed some adventurers pushing through the crowd towards the gate. The gate broke and orcs poured through, with black armour orc leading the way. They roared at the prospect of victory.
"Right, darlings. Find us a good place to shine". Jakson led the way to a crossroads. There were enough alleyways for him to disappear into, and the crossroads provided multiple escape routes. Roland climbed a small ledge by a window. There was enough place to stand, provided he got the clothes line out of the way, which he cut with the knife in his boot. He had overwatch for 3 of the 4 streets. They kept quiet and waited. Jakson stood by a corner, peeking towards the direction leading to the gate. He was planning to use the alleyways. Some frightened people ran by.
"You're a bunch of useless parasites! What are you standing around for, like cowards?"
"Fuck outta here before I bash your face in", answered Demit. A stall around the corner came crashing down and a scream was heard. The frightened peasants squealed and fled. Roland's eyes gleamed from Stop-eye and Quick-eye as he pulled out a bodkin.
"O Light, may Lumiaris's divine protection be upon you... Light of Protection." A hexagon floated on every member's wrists. Brewary and Demit bounced on the balls of their feet, holding their weapons like spears. Brewary held his closer to his shoulders, the point pointing down slightly. Roland felt lighter from the spell too.