Ambush

DM Note: Only Allan this week, as Gord couldn't make it and Derek elected to let Gorfang get this encounter over with on his own, while Eloy got up to some devilment by email instead! .

North of the Mound, Marches of Belamir, 30th July 1655, early afternoon

Using Maedar's Ring for the second time that day, Gorfang went invisible, and, rigging a rope down the back of the Elf Hammer, slipped unobtrusively down and off. Inaudibly, he ran along the eastern edge of the shallow canyon the ambush had been laid in. As he reached a bowshot or so in front of the elvish archers, he found he was running through sticky mud, instead of the broken stone the valley had been floored with before. Making sure to leave no tracks, he continued on through the line of archers and paused. Taking a spirit stance, he evaluated the three elves standing behind the archers, judging that the black-armoured shadowguard was the greatest threat of the three. Swarming up the sloped sides of the canyon, he looped around the back of the ambush so as to come upon the shadowguard from the rear. Ten feet away, he paused and spent a few seconds studying the man, attuning himself for a surprise attack.

Eloy would have been proud of him.

He struck from behind, with no warning or chance for retaliation, a flurry of blows descending on the shadowguard before he had any idea what was happening. The second strike was a blow to the head that should have been instantly lethal, but somehow, by some staggering feat of agility the elf twisted and angled his body so that the blade skimmed the side of his skull instead of crashing onto the top, though it still sheared off half his face. But Gorfang did not let up or hesitate, and his next strike killed the shadowguard.

A rotten time for a Natural 1 on a Listen check.

Next in the row of 'big guns', the priest wearing the sigils of Anladur was concentrating on the Elf Hammer and utterly failed to notice what was happening. The wizard at the far end - a woman, Gorfang realized - looked around and realized what was probably happening. She rippped off a spell and immediately pointed directly at the sprinting orc as he looped around the priest and bore down on her. A moment later she was stumbling backwards as blood gushed from a terrible wound in her chest, struggling to maintain concentration on her next spell.

Behind them, the elf-archers were realizing that, although the Elf Hammer was still bearing down inexorably on them, Gorfang was somehow behind them instead, and started to turn round in some confusion. Belatedly realizing there was a problem, the priest raised his arms and spoke a summoning, raising an earth elemental from the very ground to assault the orc. It started to lumber towards him, despite being unable to clearly see his location.

Gorfang kept his attention on the wizard, delivering a mighty blow that practically vaporized her head. His satisfaction was short-lived, however, as the cloud of flying bone, blood and brains suddenly vanished in a flash of light. A moment later the wizard, her head miraculously reassembled although the massive wound in her chest was still present, reappeared on the far side of the battlefield, beyond the row of archers and the sharpened stakes. Shaking her head to clear it, she doggedly cast another spell, which seemed to have no perceptible effect.

At this moment, the Elf Hammer reached the section of odd-looking ground level with where Gorfang had found mud earlier. It stepped into this - and sank into the ground up to its' hips. This was the trap the elves had hoped would stop it long enough for the spellcasters and archers to deal with Gorfang; a Rock to Mud spell. Once again, though, the Elder Race had underestimated the Elf Hammer. Slowed though it was, it began to wade ponderously onward through the mud towards the battle raging at the neck of the valley.

Gorfang spun and caught the priest by surprise as he was preparing another spell, slaughtering him in seconds. The elemental slid back into the earth and disappeared from view. Then Gorfang charged southwards again, heading for the elf-archers. Three of them drew swords as he approached and braced to oppose him as he reached them.

As he engaged, he realized he was visible again; this must be what the wizard had cast as he started his run. Undeterred, he ran on as she began another spell, squaring his shoulders as he recognized it as a Fireball. The blazing sphere struck near him and he tried to dash through before he could be engulfed; this was partly successful and he emerged, smouldering but alive, and piled into the marchwarden archers like a thunderbolt. Across the field, a glittering dome of crystal ice, steaming slightly, mushroomed over the wounded wizard, hiding her from view.

Blades clashed as the three fought with desperate skill. They were good, the best the elves could throw into the situation at such short notice, but they were no match for Gorfang. The Master of Weapons crashed through their ranks, his red-dripping blades rising and falling with terrifying inevitability. Three swordsmen and three archers were within immediate reach and he killed all but one of the archers, who, dodging desperately, fended off the orc's assault with only minor wounds, and inflicted a wound on Gorfang with a point-blank shot in his turn.

Behind him, the remaining nine marchwardens looked from the red ruin Gorfang was making of their comrades to the Elf Hammer slowly climbing from their failed trap, and their courage failed. They broke and ran, all except for the solitary hero who had survived a fight with Gorfang. His courage moved something in the orc's brutal soul and he held his hand. "Your friends are leaving," he rumbled, "I suggest you run now." The marchwarden glared at him, then glanced to his right and saw that he spoke the truth. He shook a defiant fist at the orc. "The warriors of the Eldalië will end your evil one day!" he cried,and turned to retreat, his shadow stark and black on the ground beyond him.

Shadow?

DM Note: Poor lad. That elf deserved to escape with XP for surviving Gorfang but the wizard regarded him as expendable...

Gorfang spun. Four huge balls of swirling, laval fire were converging on his location, throwing a blaze of light which threw the brave elf's shadow against the sun. Gorfang twisted desperately, and avoided all but one as they reached him. The one that struck him half-blinded him with the pain and burning of the impact, and then all four struck the ground around him and he was engulfed in flames as they exploded. Blackened and agonized, he beat out the fires in his clothing and then caught sight of his late foe, charred to a cinder on the ground nearby.

Back where the spell had come from, Gorfang could see the elvish wizard standing up the slope among the sparse trees, an expression of shock on her face at his continued survival. Shrugging his bow off his shoulder, he launched an arrow at her, grazing her, but then she cast another spell, made some obscure and complicated movements, and disappeared. By the time Gorfang got there there was - to his fury - no sign of her.

With an obscene slurping noise, the Elf Hammer pulled itself out of the Rock to Mud trap and strode away northwards, oblivious to all that had happened. Gorfang spent ten minutes rifling bodies and then set off at a sprint to catch the monstrosity up.