Adapting Rhune and Dakath's plans for the terrain, it is decided that half the group will travel on foot with hand weapons, planning to charge into the camp when the time provides itself. Unfortunately, the guards will surely see the group if they attempt to get close enough to see what is going on, so they elect to hang back for the moment until the other half of the group (those with projectile weapons) gets close enough or begins to raise a fuss. They draw up to the stand of trees that Tag mounted himself upon, this time much quieter and creating less disturbance, avoiding the open area that Dakath took when he was shot.
Taking Rhune's advice to heart, the archers split into two groups, one heading northwest, the other northeast, in an effort to flank the camp and find someplace to rain arrows upon them from. Taking no chances, they travel several hundred yards east and west of the camp to avoid detection.
Rhune and Asif head northwest. Just a few yards into the tree line, they see a slight outline of a path leading through the trees. It heads east-west, and looks to be directly in line with the camp. Assuming such a path is guarded, they continue north to get around the camp.
Tag and Forte (who has left the hand to hand warriors to utilize his archery), move northeast. Both are armored, unlike the other pair, and Tag must move agonizingly slow to ensure that Forte does not make too much noise. Their travels are much more nerve-wracking. Thinking they stand a much better chance of being detected, Tag leads Forte north into the rough hills, reasoning that they cannot alert the camp to the presence of the others if they are found.
Miraculously, neither group is found, and both manage to achieve a close position to the camp, which is surrounded by hillocks and boulders, piled up to prevent an attack, it appears. There are only three ways into camp, a path to the west, a small opening between rocks to the east, and the slightly smaller pathway to the south. This works to the archers' benefit, however, as it would take some time for anyone from the camp to climb the rocks and attack them.
It appears that the only way for the main group to charge in, however, is right through the gut of the camp, which would surely be quite dangerous. Asif and Rhune can see a guard watching the path leading west, only a few yards away. He is another of the silent humans, looking about with a fairly high degree of vigilance. There is surely another such guard to the south, but none of the archers can see him.
The interior of the camp draws the snipers' attention. There are more within it than the centaur said. There appears to be some twenty humans chained up in the center of the clearing. Most are healthy young men, though there are a few women. There are no older people or children, though, you note. All appear to have been beaten into submission, as they look only at the ground. Separated from them are some fifteen goblins, similarly chained and similarly subdued. You note that all wear red garb, reminding you of the goblins that attacked Sukiskayn almost a week ago. You recall that very few of those survived that assault.
Also chained, though not anywhere near as spiritless, are a dozen riding horses. They continue to pull at their chains, though you can see that they have been whipped and the chains dig into their hides, causing them to bleed. Never have you heard of or seen horses resisting so strongly their breaking.
Four of the quiet humans sit in the camp watching those chained. They appear to be rather disturbed individuals, more like dogs than men, as they lash out every once in a while at a cringing victim.
Sleeping near those humans are some eight goblins, though of a different tribe than those you have seen up until now. Interestingly enough, their skin is not green, but yellow, and they wear iron collars and arm bands. Only two of these creatures is awake, and they are both not very alert. It appears the daylight is not particularly conducive to their activity.
Asif despite the newness of his acquaintance with the green skins looks upon them with obvious distaste and makes a slashing motion across his throat, then gestures towards them with an evil grin spreading over his face.
Three figures in the camp draw instant attention. Two are humans wearing chain mail, one a mace and the other a long sword and shield. The one with the sword is wielding a whip with abandon on one of the horses, creating the cracking noise and the whinnying cry as it draws blood from one of the resisting horses. He mutters to the other human with the mace, who chuckles. None of you are close enough to make out the words.
Asif's hawk like eyes glare with fierce intensity at the mistreatment of the horses by the man. Such a man was a beast and coward to mistreat such a noble animal. Asif whispers: "That filthy lice ridden goat shall feel my wrath."
Rhune nods then sees the guard. She motions to Asif, pointing to herself and then the goblin and smiles. She leaves her bow and very quietly draws her long sword. She then slips off to go pay the guard a visit.
The third figure draws the most attention. He is a gigantic goblin, the biggest by far that you have ever heard of or seen, some seven feet tall, brownskinned and very hairy. He holds a massive battleaxe in his furry hands, looking at the horse-whipping and chuckling. You recognize the basso tone that you heard before in the deep rumbling laugh.
Noting that the enemy appears to be less numerous than previously thought, the archers smile, but wonder how they are going to alert the group to the south as to what they have seen.
Rhune sees that the guard near them is too close for comfort, and attempts to dispatch him before he causes trouble. Asif, fearing that he might draw attention, only aims his bow, knowing that he could not hit the guard from his location without fear of hitting Rhune instead.
Putting away her bow for the moment, Rhune instead draws her longsword. She moves with amazing stealth, and Asif would almost swear she disappears on more than one occasion. Even knowing where she is, he cannot hear a sound. She then raises up her sword to dispatch the fellow. However, a twinge of guilt at the cold-blooded attack makes her pause, and that is enough to ruin the attack. The fellow turns enough to see her there, and her thrust misses him by inches. He rolls to the ground and opens his mouth to yell.
Asif in frustration sees that his shot is completely blocked by Rhune's body. Rhune attempts to stab at the man again, but he dodges her easily, yelling back to the camp without words, but a grunting wail. Everyone involved hears the noise, including the group to the south.
Rhune curses her conscience as she tries to dispatch this man. Knowing that Asif has his bow ready she tries to position herself so that he has a clear shot of the man.
Asif whispers to himself. "Just a little to the left my love, and that flea ridden goat will taste Aten's wrath."
Asif's face breaks into an evil smile as Rhune as if listening to his words steps to the side, granting him the target he desires.
Moving aside, even though it makes her somewhat vulnerable, Rhune trust to Asif's aim to keep her from harm. She is not disappointed. As the man raises his sword to bring it down upon her, the unique fletching of one of Asif's Egyptian arrows sprouts from his temple, knocking him down hard. Rhune is fairly sure that you don't survive with an arrow in your head, so turns and rushes back to the spot where Asif has already turned his deadly bow upon those in the camp, sheathing her own sword and pulling out her elvish bow to join him.
Dakath uses the confusion to move off towards the east in a wide arc, hoping to sneak into the camp and free the enslaved humans. Ensuring that there is enough confusion to prevent the enemy from mounting an organized counter-attack.
Forte immediately begins firing at the "giant goblin."
His arrows are well off target, however, one well short and one to the right.
Tag follows Forte's lead, targeting the leaders, "I cannot see their archers from before, mio amico, stay alert for a counter attack." He is able to use the rocks to protect himself fairly well, while still getting a clear shot and targets the man with the mace first. His shot is high but on target. However, it impacts the man's chain mail and bounces off, not doing him any apparent harm.
Quickly and very quietly, Dakath disappears into the rocks and scrubby trees on the east side of the camp.
Ullar charges forward on foot, his two-handed drawn. The ex-gladiator is well aware that he can't use his weapon to it's full ability, but a blow inflicted from the impact of the weapon itself, together with the warrior's exceptional strength should be enough to fell a man.
Two arrows come sailing out of the woods, aimed at Ullar's massive, unarmored frame. He only sees them in time to realize that both are on target and will certainly hit him before he can dodge. Amazingly, however, they are deflected just inches from penetration. Marika left at least one legacy behind.
Augustus runs forward behind Ullar, trying to get in range to throw one of his bolas at the giant Goblin.
Hearing the guard's warning cry and the ensuing commotion inside the camp, Leslie lets loose the bottled up anger inside him. Not waiting to see if he is joined by his friends, he charges headlong into the camp, massive blade swinging. Tearing into the clearing, he notices the towering shape of the axe-wielding goblin, and immediately targets him as first prey of the fight.
Seeing Leslie's charge, Tag targets the goblin and others only if it is safe to fire without hitting Leslie.
Xania watches the various groups heading out, realizing she has little in common with any of them. So she hangs back behind some of the fighters, trying to avoid getting hit with an arrow.
The camp quickly organizes itself to repel you. The huge goblin barks something loud and harsh, and the yellow-skinned goblins leap to their feet, quickly wiping the sleep from their eyes and grabbing a hold of the short bows very near to them. You are astounded as to how quickly they respond.
Meanwhile, the four men standing near the south end of the camp turn their bows initially toward the two men in the northeast. Interestingly enough, all four target the smaller, better protected Taglio. However, there must be method to their madness, as his chain mail is barely able to deflect two of the incoming missiles, and two more find their mark. One impacts his right shoulder, the other his chest. Those with the time marvel at their amazing accuracy, or luck. Tag drops his crossbow as he falls behind his covering boulder, mortally wounded.
"Uuugh...," As the first arrow hits Tag in the shoulder he grunts, it feels like a lead weight grips his right arm, and his ornate crossbow rolls away, his arm limp and useless. He rolls to retrieve it with his left hand, exposing his chest briefly to the enemy.
As he does he feels the lancing pain of the second projectile. Burning, searing, bone breaking pain. Tag rolls down behind the bolder, winded and shocked. He looks down to see the shaft of the arrow coming from his chest ironically through the chink in his armor over the left breast. "Father your armor has not protected me as it did not you." Visions of his father suddenly come to his mind, of his cold gray body in the mausoleum and Tag examining his father's armor after the assassination and finding the damaged links where the bolt had penetrated.
Every breath moves the shaft and causes a whimpering cry to escape young Taglio's lips. Suddenly he feels a choking feeling and is forced to cough. Blood and phlegm he can taste on his lips. His breathing becomes shallow. "A stiff drink would ease the pain," he whispers, but he remembers that his bottles of wine are on the horse still.
The fellow with the mace turns his attention to the northwest, incanting. Just as Asif has drawn another of his terminal arrows to the string, he freezes, as does Rhune, who has just arrived in position to join the fray.
Mentally cursing, using language that even her father would be surprised that she knew and would bring a blush to even Leslie and Forte, Rhune stands there helpless. Holding her bow in her hand, one hand on the quiver she can do nothing but stand there and watch the battle take place. She prays to Erevan that no one brings the fight to them as both she and Asif are sit...standing ducks.
The human with the long sword unsheathes it, yelling at the men to the south to drop their bows and meet the charge. He then yells to the east at an unknown target, pointing in Forte's direction.
Seeing as he is know the only sniper left, Forte attempts to make the best of it before whoever or whatever is in the east catches up with him. Looking out of the corner of his eye for an approach, he turns his bow once again toward the giant goblin, hoping that felling it will throw the eight goblins now rising into chaos.
Once again, however, his aim is poor. Seeing that his archery will not turn the tide of things, Forte drops his bow and draws his greatsword out to face the man whose approach he can hear even now.
Attempting to push aside anyone who tries to get in his way, Leslie charges the hairy beast with wild abandon. He charges through a pair of the archers, who swing hard at him as he goes by them. Leslie feels the sharp pain of one of their short swords raking his cheek, but is through quickly and on his way to his target of choice.
Ullar is in no such rush to be injured, and clashes into the two men he faces like a thunderbolt. His massive blade swings low, severing the thigh of the man on the left, and he falls like a sack of wheat. The other, not intimidated by Ullar's strength, waits a moment while the two men that Leslie bowled through reinforce him.
After charging, and hitting the man, Ullar continues the fight. He glares over to the women in captivation to see if Marika is with them. However, it appears that all those women therein are totally human, and none have Marika's foreign skin color.
The goblins have now roused themselves and rush in behind Leslie as he comes charging into camp. They drop their short bows and draw short thrusting swords.
The monster goblin and the man with the long sword cheerfully await Leslie's mad scramble toward them, the man raising his sword and the hairy fellow raising a menacing double-sided battle axe.
Leslie rushes like a madman into them, swinging his gigantic blade about like a much smaller weapon. However, the goblin appears to be a crafty fellow, as he leaps over the sweeping blow, returning with an overhand stroke with his axe that is turned by Leslie's chain mail. The swordsman appears to be having some difficulty getting in close enough past Leslie's massive weapon. However, he is cheered by the reinforcement of all eight goblins, who rush in behind Leslie, surrounding him completely. A pair of them run alongside of the giant and stand behind him.
Ullar brings his sword up to face his three opponents, but they are surprised by a burst of vibrant rainbow, assaulting their vision. All three are struck down as if dead, and collapse without Ullar even swinging his sword. He smiles at Xania as he rushes to aid Leslie.
The enemy spell-caster, though, has other ideas. He incants again and a sphere of blackness erupts right in front of Ullar, who must dodge around it or through it. Brother Augustus, having had little experience with real combat, was hesitant in using his bola upon those fighting the warriors, and now is equally blocked by the sphere of darkness.
Xania joins the two men in front of the sphere, unable to see what is going on on the other side.
Ullar sees how awkward the situation is and dashes through the dark cloud, trying to get to Leslie as soon as he can. However, his speed and weight are not counting on an upstanding rock on the ground, so the large warrior tumbles forward into the cloud.
He crawls forward, still anxious to help Leslie, and is soon on his feet again, dashing forward.
Xania too charges through the cloud of darkness in deadly silence.
Emerging on the other side, she sees Leslie fall from the attacks of the goblins and the human swordsman.
Forte, meanwhile, sees the man, another of the human archers, is approaching recklessly with a short sword drawn. Forte draws his much larger blade and beckons him on. However, as he gets closer, suddenly his head lolls to the side as about ten inches of Dakath's long sword appear in front of his neck, half-decapitating him. The man falls in a bloody heap as Dakath winks at Forte.
Both quickly look in Tag's direction, as he lies there bleeding heavily from his chest and shoulder. They then look toward the camp, where the spellcaster has moved toward the throng surrounding Leslie. A ball of blackness has erupted south of there, and the two men can see nothing of any of the rest of their companions.
Dakath looks at Forte and swears "This is a disaster my friend. I'll see to Tag, you try and get to the prisoners!!" At that he moves over to Tag's position and tries his best to stem his bleeding.
Dakath is able to quickly bandage Tag. He finds that the wounds are bad, but probably not terminal if he can be gotten to healing and rest pretty quickly.
Dakath comes over to look at the wound. Tag gives him a pleading smile. "Are these to be my last few breaths my friend?" he asks. "If they are then let it be said that I died aiding others selflessly and with a song on my lips. Il dio perdona I miei sins (Translation: God forgive my sins). Have we won?" His eyes glaze over as pain and fear unhinge his mind.
Reaper take my soul to purgatory, there to judge my life's endeavor, do the fires of hell burn deeply? soon I'll know how sweet forever.
With grim visage thy scythe does call me, never more my eyes shall see, if the fires of hell burn deeply, let harsh judgment fall on me.
Swift we pass this life's one calling, eager call the sins of Cain, if the fires of hell ye yearn for, ride along the pleasure train.......
Tags voice trails off into a thin croak as he drifts in and out of consciousness.
Dakath tends his wounds and looks him the face, rolling his eyes "I bet you had that heroic death speech memorized didn't you?? Well save it!! I'd say you picked the wrong time to give it. Now just lie still and try not to bleed everywhere. I'm not about to let you die, you certainly need to improve on your final words speech."
He shakes his head as he surveys the battle, he glances down to Tag and hopes he has the strength to stay with us.
Dakath, satisfied that there is nothing more he can do for Tag, assesses the battle. As the battle is still in full flow Dakath moves round to the horses hoping to free them and causing some confusion, ensuring that some of the attackers will have to deal with the fleeing horses and lessening the pressure on his companions.
Following Dakath's advice Forte tries to get to the prisoners, hoping that freeing them will help turn the tide against these vile creatures. Sword drawn and ready for action, he charges down into the camp as Dakath tends to Tag.