“I’m running low!” Omast shouted as he loaded another crossbow bolt.
“The orcs appear to be regrouping,” Kermit answered, pointing off in the distance. “But Rodd Rigez is up to something.”
Valbrand looked over where the grippli was pointing. He could see his friend, painted green and dragging the unconscious body of an orc behind him as if he was trying to help his “comrade”. The warrior could only imagine what his crafty ally had planned, but he knew it would be great.
“Something’s going on inside the walls,” Qumeel said. “Look there.”
The group looked and spotted a crowd forming down the road. They couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but they recognized one of the voices in the din of the crowd. “Commander?” Omast asked. “He sounds upset,” he said to the others.
“Then we will investigate,” Qumeel agreed.
They approached and were able to spot the form of Jagrin within the crowd. He was holding a sword and ranting as he pointed the naked blade at the form of a woman standing on a stool. Kermit pulled out a potion he had taken from one of the orcs. “He is hanging that half-orc woman,” Kermit said.
The others looked, and could see it as well. It was Brinya standing on the stool, on the tips of her toes. It was clear that this was a lynching and that Jagrin had lost himself to his grief and fear. Indeed, his hair was streaked with gray and matted with sweat and dirt. “She took my son away from me!” the commander shouted. “And now she’s brought her brothers and sisters here to take away your sons and daughters! I won’t allow it! I will end her here and now!” It was clear that his words were whipping the crowd into a frenzy. They were afraid, and desperately wanted someone to blame.
“This isn’t right,” Omast said. “I have to stop him!”
On the edge of the crowd, one of the other guards stood in his path. “I can’t let you do that, Omast,” Lazlo said, his lazy eye looking off to one side. “Captain told us not to let anyone interfere.”
“This will not be reflected well in the tales,” Valbrand said. “There are enemies out there, and your leader attacks an unarmed woman. Stand aside.” His knuckles were white from how tightly he gripped his axe.
“Please,” Omast pleaded. “Get out of their way. I’ve seen them kill dozens of orcs. You will die too if you stand in their way.”
Another guard, Cuthbert, stood next to Lazlo. “Sorry, Omast, but this isn’t a good place to be. You can’t save her.” He lowered his voice. “But, maybe, if you find Halgra…”
Omast spat. “You’re nothing but cowards! He’s just a man who is letting fear rule him. You have to stand up to him!”
“Sorry, Omast,” Cuthbert said, lashing out with his shield. Omast deflected the blow with his forearm, but winced as he spotted Jagrin kicking the stool out from under Brinya’s feet.
“Someone help her!” Omast shouted, glancing back at the others. “Wait, where’s Kermit?”
The grippli was gone, but Valbrand charged. “Don’t worry about it,” the big man said as his shield crashed into Lazlo’s. “Friends!” he shouted. “This isn’t justice! Justice would be standing on the wall, facing an enemy who wields a weapon! You’re cowards, and people will DIE while you waste time here!”
The warrior’s voice carried over the crowd and caught Jagrin’s attention. Regret flashed in his eyes, but he scowled. “You will not get in the way! Men, do your duty and buy enough time for justice to be done!”
Qumeel closed his eyes and prayed. “Ragathiel, guide my blade,” he said, flinging his sword over the heads of the crowd. The burning blade flew true, slicing through the rope strangling the half orc woman and lodging into the door frame behind her. Brinya fell to the floor, motionless as the wood began smoldering.
Omast was pretty sure he heard an unearthly howl in the distance.
“That’s going in the tales!” Valbrand said in congratulations as he burst into a battle song. But Cuthbert was less impressed, and lashed out with his shield once more, striking Qumeel. A third guard, Rowan, shot an arrow, hitting Omast in the shoulder, which provided Cuthbert the distraction that had allowed him to strike the cleric. Valbrand responded by slamming into Cuthbert, knocking him to the ground with his shield.
Among the crowd, an unseen figure gently tore the rope from Brinya’s neck and poured a healing potion into her mouth. She awoke with a cough. “What?” she gasped.
“Shh,” Kermit’s voice whispered. “It’s not easy being green.” He heard footsteps behind him and turned his body to shield the woman. Jagrin’s blade bounced off the hard scales of his magic suit. “Run!” Kermit told Brinya as he rose and reappeared. He stared down Jagrin as the half orc got up and fled. “Now isn’t the time to fight among ourselves! Look, the enemy is coming over the walls!”
Jagrin’s sword fell from his hand as everything was falling apart around him. “I’m trying,” he said. “I tried so hard. But I failed you, my son.” He walked past Kermit into the building behind the grippli, which had erupted in flames. He pulled out Rodrik’s hopeknife. “I’ll see you again soon, Rodrik.” Then he cut his own throat.
Seeing their leader give up, the guards stood down. “Don’t be fools,” Omast said. “The walls need us.” He pulled the arrow from his shoulder and Qumeel healed his wound. “Thanks. Now, does anyone have any bolts?” he asked.
“I’ve got some,” Lazlo said sheepishly. “Come on, boys, let’s get those bastards.” As they began firing, Qumeel was pretty sure he heard voices, possibly those of women and children, approaching from the other side of the building.
Lucky Days saw the flames first, and ran forward to investigate. Tyari was horrified at the sight of the blaze. “That was where we were keeping our medical supplies! Commander Jagrin was supposed to be guarding it.”
As she spoke, Lucky Days reached the front of the building and spotted the sword. She tried to pull it out, but the heat coming from the blaze caused her to recoil. As she tried to consider what to do, she spotted a dead body in among the flames. Unsure what to do, she turned to run back to the others, but stopped as she nearly ran into Tyari, who had run after her.
As the priestess rounded the corner, she spotted a burst of ice as Valbrand used his magical armband, beginning to quench the flames with ice. “What’s going on here?!” she demanded of the large man.
“It is a very long tale. Perhaps, when we have time, I will tell it to you.”
“Why not now?” she asked.
“Take a look above you, consider the view. If you haven’t noticed, please do,” Kermit said, pointing at the orcs on the wall. He then powered down and hopped onto Lucky Days’ shoulder. “Shall we go?” he asked. Lucky Days didn’t answer, but sped towards battle.
Valbrand jumped forward, blocking an arrow that would have struck the priestess with his shield. His response was drowned out by the sound of gunfire as Gwen rounded the corner and immediately began shooting at orcs. She downed one as Kermit and Lucky Days crossed the distance.
At that speed, the grippli went flying over an orc as Lucky Days stopped to fight. He then powered up and tore another orc to ribbons. The orcs didn’t even wait to watch Lucky Days decapitate her foe before fleeing. Word of the terrifying monster that was Kermit in his suit had spread. The orcs weren’t staying around to face him.
Gwen watched with a mixture of satisfaction and disappointment as the orcs fled, happy that they had been repelled, but disappointed that she hadn’t managed to kill more of their foes before routing them. Then she noticed that the other members of the watch weren’t cheering. Instead, they seemed to have gathered around something she couldn’t quite see just outside of the smoldering building.
A voice was saying something. “He was doing what he thought was right. I just wish we could have stopped him.” She knew that voice. Omast noticed her and stood. He was holding something in his hand as he approached. “Commander Grath was not a bad man,” he said. “He was just a man, forced to deal with life’s traumas with no way to cope.” As he spoke, he placed the object in her hand. It was a hopeknife. Rodrik’s hopeknife. And it was smeared with blood.
Her heart nearly burst out of her chest in panic. She couldn’t breathe. “Was?” she managed to ask as terror gripped her.
The knife fell from the girl’s hand and struck the floor with loud clang as she rushed through the crowd. “Out of her way!” Lazlo called out to the others, who moved to allow Gwen to pass.
The dam holding back her emotions since the death of Rodrik broke as she looked upon the lifeless face of Jagrin Grath, her uncle, the man who had taken her in when she had nothing. Tears flowed from her eyes and the guards watched awkwardly, feeling guilty for their role in everything that had transpired as she wept over the man’s body, repeatedly asking “Why?” over and over.
Even Valbrand could think of nothing to say as he watched the scene.
A tear fell from Tyari’s eye as her heart broke for the girl, but she knew that they weren’t safe. Moreover, something was wrong. “I left you three at the barricade with the acolytes,” she said to Lazlo, Cuthbert and Rowan.
Halgra’s eyes narrowed. “We will discuss how you abandoned your post later. Get the body. We have to move.” She looked at Valbrand. “Call over your companions. We’re moving.” Valbrand whistled and Kermit turned to look at him, then the big man waved the grippli over. “Therese,” she said to one of the older women in the group as she collected the hopeknife from the ground.
The older woman nodded and went to Gwen’s side. She helped the sobbing girl up and moved her into the group with the children and they all began moving once more towards the barricade. The journey took some time, perhaps half an hour, but finally they were in sight of the barricade when Lucky Days, Valbrand and Kermit – the latter from the shoulder of the large man – noticed something strange in among the acolytes from their place in the party’s vanguard.
Sitting among the surviving townsfolk was the strange pair of guards, Douglas and Brollerth. They were surrounded by the decapitated heads of several dozen orcs. The orcs’ faces were all frozen in expressions of surprise and terror.
Douglas flipped his hair in acknowledgment of their arrival. “Ohmygod, like hey guys,” he said.
Omast looked at the duo with a combination of amazement and horror. “You two killed all of these orcs?” he asked.
“Well, uh, uh, these were just the ones we could carry,” Douglas said.
Brollerth looked up from one of the skulls as he finished packing it with explosives. “What? Like, where did you think I got all those mines from?”