The Happy Muggers

Clearing the Town

Deep Behind Enemy Lines

The door shuddered as the orc plowed into it, but Tarque’s massive frame kept it in place. As the others caught their breath, D’cafnaet’d opened a window, gauged distance, and took a running leap up onto the roof next door.

“Always moving too fast,” Tarque said. He ran for the wall opposite the door and plowed through it, letting the orc come in after him. He managed to slash Montiago in the seconds before he hit the floor. And then everyone was outside.

From his height D’cafnaet’d could see the fray taking shape: there were seven orcs guarding this outpost– six now that the one had rushed in, and five if that one didn’t survive that fall off a roof he just took– and everyone was converging on that now-open doorway. Tortolla and Aegis made a bottleneck just outside, but one of the orcs– a pummeller– smashed the ground and shook the bottleneck lose. It shook D’cafnaet’d’s perch loose, too; the building collapsed as D’cafnaet’d leapt forward to knock a few orcish heads together.

Tarque threw a tree root through one of the archer’s necks just as Leeloo found the other archer, limping slightly but still okay after his fall. She loosed Eldritch Blasts at him as she pressed in and caught a few arrows, keeping him away from the main fray where he could hit too many of her allies. After she took the third arrow she was glad to see Montiago flinging arcane magicks the same direction she was, and she teleported away to get closer to Tortolla’s healing.

Tortolla’s bottleneck was just reforming when Leeloo arrived. D’cafnaet’d dropped the pummeller as Tortolla dropped a reaver, and just after she found the warm healing she was needing Leeloo dropped the last archer. Montiago ran back to the group just in time to see D’cafnaet’d tumble around and kill the final orc.

A quick glance around confirmed they had a moment’s respite, but no more. “The orcs press in from all sides; if we delay we will be overcome. I suggest we loop northward,” he pointed, “into the edge of the forest. We can find our way out again closer to Tusk’s tent.”

The party disappeared into the brush, but a patrol was right behind them. Leeloo was struggling with bandages and managed to leave a trail of blood spots behind, but the patrol proved too inept to find them.

An hour later they were looking out on the empty field between them and Tusk’s tent. Four patrols circled a small group of structures including a stables and a catapult, which was lobbing stones into the battle that was beginning at the city walls. The dark of night was an asset, but the faintest glimmer of sunshine was evident on the horizon. Time was growing short.

“We need a distraction,” Tarque said.

“I could run about naked,” D’cafnaet’d offered.

“I’d rather we use their catapult on their stables,” Tortolla replied. “Can everyone cross that distance?” They could; Tortolla and Tarque used their knowledge of nature to hide in the grasses; Montiago and Leeloo shrouded themselves in illusion and darkness, and D’cafnaet’d called upon his experience getting into places where he shouldn’t be. And in no time at all they were at the catapult, sizing up a group of Gnolls.

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