The Happy Muggers

Taking the Catapult

Procuring our Distraction

The gnoll had spotted them. His snout sniffed the wind and glanced over, saw movement behind the shrubs, yelled out and ran toward them. Leeloo was first out the gate to meet him, and instead she met two arrows and soon found herself teleporting back and nursing wounds she cursed herself for being dumb enough to obtain, “Always let the goliath establish the battle line.”

The goliath in question was doing just that. Surrounded by gnolls– a tiny confused archer, a commander howling orders, and a blood-soaked zealot– he was hurting badly. Tortolla surveyed the scene shook his head, “We need our strength for the fight ahead!” He pulled a tiny blue glow out of his pocket, and Aegis erupted forth to help, healing Leeloo and Tarque in turn.

D’cafnaet’d was running around the side, flanking the gnolls and catching them by surprise. He stumbled once, twice, and met his mark. Montiago was standing where he liked– safely at the rear of the fray– and lobbing arcane energies across the field. A solid hit on the zealot sent him down, but shadows crept into his dying form and propped him up again. His body lurched over to Tortolla and tore at his arm before the body caved in on itself, rotting from within.

Montiago took an arrow from the tiny archer, and threw a bolt of energy back that ensured the archer would do no more harm. Tarque was slugging it out with the commander as Leeloo and Montiago chased the last archer as he tried to escape. Montiago’s grasping shadows allowed Leeloo to teleport next to him, draw her sword, and put some blood on the blade.

But before he died the archer had sabotaged the catapult; the torsion rope was cut neatly in the middle. The planned attack on the stables was impossible.

“We are uphill of the target,” D’cafnaet’d said, pulling out the blocks keeping the catapult in place, “And we have a means of going downhill with great speed.”

“You want us to ride that thing?” Montiago said.

“A better idea:” Tortolla proposed, “Set it hurtling toward the tent, and we shall follow along behind the mayhem.” Tarque walked over and began to size the device up, shoved it a bit to see how mobile it was.

Leeloo shook her head, “Why don’t we merely use it as a distraction there,” she pointed at the west side of the tent, “While we make our entrance there,” she pointed at the west side.

“Aye,” Tortolla said, “There is an idea.” Everyone agreed.

Tarque was shifting the huge frame, aiming it as well he could. He gave it a shove and it slowly tumbled over the edge of the hill, then quickly began gathering speed. They started down the hill along a slightly different direction, running to keep pace.

“But it really should be afire,” Montiago said. And with a flick of his wrist, it was.



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