KHAZUUL

The flight of Dreadwings start at Cutwell revealing himself so frankly. Their lantern light glints in hues of orange off his metal arm. Their crew quickly renews their steady advance, and the leader starts barking out orders.

"On your knees, Black Skull! Hands out, wide! You try anything and we'll run you through, mark my fucking words. How many of you are there!?"

Staying low, staying quiet, Sow creeps towards the stinking, burning pile of pitch she hides behind... preparing to dip the tip of her arrow in it before she fires. Cutwell's look had spoken volumes without uttering a syllable regarding what the man actually planned to do.

So the girl waits...

Freki curses under his breath when his planned distraction fails. At least, Thunderstrike is still with me, he thinks to himself.

When Cutwell stands up to reveal himself, Freki almost gasps at the move. He looks to Sow, Flint and Saffron in confusion as if to say, What's he doing?!?! He's giving up our position?!?! But then he sees Sow's preparation and realizes that the barber is risking himself as a distraction.

Thinking quickly he looks for ways to use the distraction to their advantage. There's another flaming barricade uphill of their position, teetering on the steep incline. Once the guards come a bit closer they'll be right under it. He thinks he can reach it with his whip. If he times it right, he could pull it down, toppling the teetering barricade right on top of one of the guards.

He loosens his whip and waits for the right moment ...

Flint follows Freki's thoughts as he watches the man look at the flaming barricade. He wishes he had a bow, but wishes were useless. He sees Sow preparing to fire a flaming arrow and hopes that she succeeds as he hears Cutwell bravely distract the

"I'll watch your back, Freki."

Watching from the darkness as the men coming down the hill call for Cutwell's head, Sow tries to get some sense of their numbers as she prepares to fire.

Cutwell forces a laugh, hoping to cover up some nervousness.

"You’ve told yourselves some stories about the Black Skulls, ain’t ya? On my knees, arms out… Here?" he says, motioning about at the precarious position he was in. He’d surely slip and fall trying to fulfill such a request.

"Just me, ain’t it? And you can call me an ex-Black Skull, as a matter of fact. I know which side my bread is buttered on, don’t I?" he says, stepping closer to the spears, around and around further away from his friends.

Tunny's remaining hound still crouches silently at Freki's side. As the Dreadwing guards approach, Thunderstrike senses the danger in the situation. His hackles rise and his bared-teeth glisten in the orange light of the barricade fires and lamp light as he prepares to pounce.

And with that, Cutwell lunged for the spears leveled at him. He grabs one with his flesh arm, hoping to keep it to the side of him.

Stepping inside the weapon’s range, he hammers the wielder on the chest with his metal fist, hoping to crunch the man’s ribs! He knew then that the remaining spears would soon follow and pick Cutwell apart.

Flint slides his sword out of its sheath quickly and lunges for one of the guards closest to Freki.

As voices rise and there are the ringing sounds of steel being drawn, being used, Sow crouches at the pitch fire, lighting an arrow. She’s no marksman, she thinks to herself as she draws that flaming missile, but their foes are not far, right there before them! Aiming at the center of the group of men, away from Cutwell, she lets fly!

The others spring their attack just before the guards pass under the teetering barricade, so Freki must delay his attack to adjust his plan ...

Cutwell shoves the Dreadwing's spear aside and punches him hard in the chest, but the man pivots fast enough to deflect most of the force to the side. He screams at the top of his lungs:

"FUCKING KILL 'EM!"But at that moment, Flint leaps into the fray from behind the barricade, slicing at another Dreadwing, who barely intercepts the blow with the haft of his spear, leaving a deep gash in the wood.Then, Sow's flaming arrow whistles past and hits a third Dreadwing square in the forehead. He falls to the ground, the flames engulfing his face and feathered headdress. His screams fill the night.The Dreadwings strike back, screaming and fighting like banshees as they find themselves caught in your ambush, barelling down into them. Two square off with Cutwell, shoving and slashing (8 damage).

Flint's target whirls his spear around and tries to crack his skull open with it (7 damage).

A fourth manages to leap down on the path and takes a swipe at Sow (6 damage).

Cutwell is just barely aware of the screams breaking out all about him. That wasn’t the plan! This was supposed to be an infiltration.

And then…

"Cutwell!!!" Freki yells in dismay as the two spears sink deep into the doctor. The Northman immediately retaliates by lashing out with his whip, catching one of the Dreadwings around the neck and pulling him in to strangle him. It was the one that Cutwell had punched with his metal arm, so he was already gasping for breath.

Thunderstrike launches at the other, his teeth gnashing with aggression.

Cursing when she sees their foes charge down the hill, unimpeded by the burning pitch, Sow is in the middle of shouldering her bow and raising her shield and spear when Cutwell is overwhelmed. What seems like a split second later the haft of a spear wielded by a man outweighing the former fieldwarden by seven stone cracks the girl on the side of the head, fracturing bone and sending her sprawling.

Tasting blood, one ear ringing and maybe deafened, she steels herself and rising back up as Freki’s whip snaps in the flaming night.

Flint in the literal heat of it all, doesn't much notice the thwack on his head from his foe's spear as his adrenaline carries him through. He's torn on deciding a target with each of his group in imminent danger. He assesses quickly and decides to lunge at Sow's attacker, crying out as he tries to run the man through with his gleaming sword that glows with the reflections of nearby fires.