KHAZUUL

Cutwell begins to wonder who he has thrown his lot in with. He had taken the flute yes, but besides that all he had was his supplies and a broken compass.

"You can just leave me in the mud, can’t you?" he says then, trying to lighten the mood; knowing that the jitters were beginning to creep in before the scrap!

But he nods to Freki then, to show that he had heard, and would do as he says, if he could when the time came.

The night grinds forward, painfully slow and all too fast at the same time. When the time comes, everyone assembles, even Grinwit and Gringle's crew that were guarding the perimeter - a grand total of 20 Hunters.

After a signal from Tunny, they don their black skull masks in silence, flames glinting off the lacquered bones. It is a fearsome sight, more like a flight of demons ready to stalk the battlefield for prey than folk marching to their fiery deaths.

Tunny leads the Black Skulls out the gates, marching in a direct path to the Dreadwing's hill, straight through the burning wreck that the fire flinger has left this patch of jungle. As you slip into the jungle to approach from a hidden angle, they begin to beat their shields, to draw attention. Freki's dogs stay close to him, recognizing him as pack leader.

When the hill comes in sight, it looks like it has been transplanted straight from hell. The slope of the hill all jagged rock that will require scrambling on all fours to ascend. All the vegetation has been either burned or chopped down, and piled in smouldering barricades that block certain paths. You recall that explosive traps had been placed on the remaining paths to blunt a direct assault. A wide switchback path leads up the back of the hill, unimpeded. This is likely the path they dragged their siege weapon to the top.

At the top of the hill, you see a glimpse of the Dreadwing's war camp, lit brightly with torches. You can make out the silhouettes of sentries patrolling the perimeter - bowmen ready to rain arrows down on anyone who attempts to ascend the hill against their will.

From across the other side of the hill, you hear Tunny's bellowing voice calling out, challenging the Dreadwing's leader to single combat! The Dreadwing camp erupts in laughter - and from that derisive noise you count at least thirty men. But, that is your signal that the Black Skull diversion is on!

Cutwell had lived this moment dozens of times. The boisterous displays of bravado before the shock of blood and shit and piss. Usually, he was ensconced within a force numbering thousands, and his skills put to use after, rather than during.

Different enough then that the man was quiet, and a little morose. He slides the massive knife into its sheath, in preparation for the climb! He’d go first, he thought, so as to trace a path for the others in their armor to follow more assuredly!

As they ascend the hill away from where Tunny and the black skulls are making a ruckus, Freki sends the dogs forth to scout. They cautiously roam a dozen yards or so out in front of Cutwell, sniffing for unusual scents that might signal danger, returning to Freki's side occasionally as if to check in.

Freki keeps one eye on the dogs, worried for their safety, and the other looking up hill. When he doesn't need to use both hands to scramble up hill, he holds his shield high in case a flight of arrows, or worse, suddenly rains down.

If Freki was afraid of arrows, he had little to fear for now! He was more likely to be hit by a pincushioned Cutwell heading for the rocky mess below!

He looks down, checking how the others were during in their bulky armor. He knew he’d sorely miss having some of his own once the climb was done!

A string of unlikely victories have led to this terrifying moment, Sow only now realizes — as she weighs what seem like very long odds and sees only folly and disaster in their plan. Their confidence had been bolstered by their luck in battle, their survival and now their improved arms and armor… but in truth what could they possibly do against such a force as this? On the high ground. Entrenched. Better manned, with guards on the perimeter.

Their small unit has the advantage of surprise — for now — but in the end of what will doubtless be a bloody accounting… what will that be worth?

She looks to her friends as they quietly approach the base of the hill, beginning their ascent when Tunny makes his move. Brave Cutwell and Flint. Freki and beautiful, exotic Saffron. Faces she might not see after today. Voices she might not hear. The girl’s heart pounds in her chest as they climb, and suddenly she’s even forgotten their plan, her head is so buzzing with the angry bees of unbridled fear.

"Wait!" she hisses in her warbling whisper. "Are we approaching the hilltop directly, with what must be dozens of them up there? Weren’t we to stand off and try to catch the siege machine aflame from a distance? Though if we do that from the open, their archers will surely rain arrows on us…"

Turning, looking back the way they came, the brunette looks for some better position, some cover they could strike from…

"I've been of similar mind Sow, and can't help thinking we'd be sitting ducks when noticed," he hisses back. "We could fire arrows wrapped in flames. But How would we fire flames at the siege engine, do you think? And in such a way as to almost assure its demise, for if we were to miss ...."

Flint lets that sentence trail off. Glad not to be burdened with the extra weight of armor, and hoping he wouldn't regret that decision later not to take any.

Cutwell grimaces, and he can’t help but think that they could slink off into the jungle, and both sides would be none the wiser. Their own gang would assume the plan had failed and them surely killed, while their enemy would never know they had been so close.

Does he see sudden hesitation on their faces? Would any of the five offer the group an out? Would they take it, if it was offered? He’d seen enough lads have second thoughts when it came close enough that you could smell the bastards on the other side.

"One of us could slip in a lot quieter than four, couldn’t they? Get up close and bust it right good!"

Freki considers Cutwell's suggestion, looking up the hellish mound of earth before them. Moonshadow had just return by Freki's side and he unconsciously reached down to give her a pat before she headed up the hill a bit further to scout again.

"Let's get a bit closer to see what we're up against before we send someone in alone. We might not need to send anyone in if we can get a clear shot of the flinger. And we might find whatever's up there is impossible to deal with solo."

Sow nods at Freki and keeps her eyes peeled as they move out -- well, as they move up, climbing. She attempts to move from cover to cover, using the barricades that way if nothing else...

"Right then, Freki. Off we go." Flint keeps his sword sheathed for the moment. Crouching, he too weaves his way up, taking cover where he can.

Cutwell keeps low, ready to pounce on whatever beast or bastard was on watch above, so as to toss them back down the way the group had climbed up!

Freki takes the lead as the company stealths up the hill, Moonshadow and the other dogs sniffing for the purported traps. Behind him, the rest follow in silence, skulking in the firelit shadows.

It isn't long before the dogs prove their worth; between barcodes, the dogs lead Freki to a tar-fliled incendiary with a pressure ignition trigger wedged between rocks in their path. Cutwell recognizes the mechanical work as Union-made, not unlike his fantastical iron arm. Stepping on it, he is certain, would have caused an explosion on the magnitude of Thorn's fire brew.

Everyone struggles to find the balance between a rapid, efficient ascent and a stealthy one. The company has the advantage of cover of darkness, and perhaps Tunny's force is drawing attention to the other side of the hill. But, darkness also makes climbing the jagged rocks much harder, the barricades force them along difficult terrain, and what light there is risks exposing them.

High above, the Dreadwing guards patrol their faction's war camp. One sees a flicker of movement from below. You can hear a commotion as a guard claims, loudly "Think I saw something moving down there!" Another voice replies "Go check it out. The Ruin Sage warned us about Black Skull trickery."

A sortie of five feather-clad Dreadwing's begin descending, armed with spears and lanterns on poles.

Freki signals to everyone to freeze and stay low against the ground or behind cover. Then he whispers some words into the ears of Moonshadow and Sunbeam. The dogs look at each other and then seem to almost nod back to Freki.

The two dogs sneak out from behind the barricade and then begin to bark at each other, briefly play fight and then chase each other back down the hill the way the group has climbed.

Freki stays low and still the entire time, one hand on Thunderstrike to keep him quiet and calm during the act. He hopes the guards are convinced what they saw was just animals and that the two dogs make it safely back to camp.

Sow crouches low and stays quiet when Freki signals for it; worry lines crease her forehead when the dogs go. She's concerned for their health, but hopes their training and instincts will keep them safe...

Cutwell fishes for the flute from his pack. If the dog ruse fails, the man will blow the thing so as to cover the sound of combat! No shouts for back up or the sound of clashing steel would reach the others waiting up top!

He furrows his brow, hoping Freki’s gambit works! Five spearmen stabbing down from on high didn’t sound like a fight he wanted to have!

Seeing Cutwell pull out his flute, not understanding his intention with it, Sow just gives the man a puzzled look before unshouldering her new bow. As she pulls an arrow and half-draws it, she has something different in mind if the Dreadwings don’t chase after the dogs…

Flint crouches and stays stock-still upon Freki's request, waiting for the diversion to play out. He notices Cutwell, cleaver as always, grabbing his flute just in case.

Cutwell groans, as the enemy call out and the ruse goes to shit. He looks to the others, and can only offer apologetic eyes.

They were Ironfist’s crew, to hear it told at camp. It hadn’t been that way in reality. They had all been swept along into this mess. And yet he couldn’t help but feel a certain… responsibility for them.

He looks at them once more! He gives Sow a wink that’s more goodbye than anything else. Before they can stop him, he steps out from his hiding place, and into view of the spearmen.

He holds his hands up, and lets the metal appendage be seen by all, in case these bastards had somehow heard of him.

"Bit of a climb this, ain’t it?" he calls up, as friendly as he can manage. He takes a few steps away from the rest of the group, hoping to keep the attention off of them.

"You lot don’t make it easy to come and say hello, do you?"