KHAZUUL

Flint falls next, and Sow's vision blurs as blood runs into her eyes. There's no way back from this, not now. Even if they manage to somehow retreat back down the hill, these Dreadwings -- they're just too strong, too numerous.

"Freki!" she screams hoarsely at the man as she lunges her spear forward at the man attacking her, off-balance because of her head injury. "Freki! We can't beat them!"

As Freki holds the whip tight around the Dreadwing's neck, waiting for him to go limp, he yells back to Sow, "We can't leave them to die!" He looks at their two fallen companions, sorrow in his eyes.

But Thunderstrike was being rebuffed by the other guard, Saffron had yet to act, and Sow had blood streaming down the side of her face, fighting for her life against one of the spearmen ... poor Kiddo. Despite his words, Freki's expression looks like he's considering Sow's words ...

The remaining three Dreadwings rally! One strikes out at Saffron, eager to claim her sword, but she easily dances past the spear.Another tries to impale Thunderstrike on the end of his spear, and tere is no contest. By the grace of god, the hit is clean, and the noble beast suffers no pain.The third tries to finish the job against Sow, incredulous that she stands after he cracked her skull. He cries "Fucking die already!" as he stabs at her torso.

Her hair and face wet with blood, Sow bares her red teeth as the dreadwing comes at her again. She girl is stronger than she looks, but the man's reach and power is just too much for her. Knocking aside her shield, the angry man stabs with his spear, right through Sow's left shoulder. The already injured woman yelps in pain and drops her shield before she staggers back, pulling herself off the point of her foe's weapon.

Bleeding now from that second wound, and with one arm hanging limply, the smallest of the Black Skulls howls as she steps forward and lunges, tries to pierce the man's defenses, and his heart, with her spear!

Freki's heart breaks when the Dreadwing's spear skewers Thunderstrike, but he suddenly realizes the clever dog's attacks had maneuvered the man directly under the closest flaming barricade. Poor dog had sacrificed himself to coax the guard into position. Freki seizes the opportunity. His whip snaps out again like lightning, wrapping around the structure's main support. He pulls with all his might, releasing a scream of exertion mixed with the angry emotions of losing his two friends and the dog, bring down a crushing, fiery vengeance!

Sow's spear strikes true, piercing the big Dreadwing's guard. His feathered headdress shakes in surprise as her spear tip finds flesh!Freki unleashes a torrent of tumbling, flaming timbers onto Thunderstrike's murder! He loses control of his knees and his bowels as the avalanche of logs mangles him into pulp.Despite the roar of Freki's avalanche and the terrible stench of burning tar, Saffron remains serene. She's found some hidden reserve of confidence, and she strikes with the ferocity of a desert snake. Her sword flashes like lightning as she slices neatly through his neck, and she lets the headless corpse tumble down the hellish hill.

Facing three Black Skulls, the sole remaining Dreadwing begins backing up toward the top of the hill. He hurls his spear at Saffron, but she bats out of the air with an utterly contemptuous swing of Heaven's Will.

Freki feels a sense of satisfaction when his plan unfolds successfully, but it doesn't mend the sadness of losing his friends. He notices the bastard who had hit Sow trying to scramble back up the hill. Freki's whip catches his feet causing him to tumble back into the path of Sow and Saffron.

Blood drizzling from her chin as it continues to gush from the open wound on the side of her scalp, Sow keeps one arm cradled as she steps into a throw, propelling her spear towards her foe while Freki tries to tangle him up with his whip…

Sow's spear scrapes against the last Dreadwing's back, but the Hunter's armour deflects to the side rather than let it stick into his flesh, and he continues his flight!

"ATTACK COMING! ATTACK!" he screams, and scrambles up the step, rocky bank. He disappears over the edge! However, you can hear the sounds of battle from above. Tunny and the other Black Skulls must be raining arrows on the top of the hill.

Around you, it is mostly dark again. The Dreadwing's lantern poles have all fallen during the fight, smashed and broken on the rocks. The burning tar dimly illuminates the Dreadwing's dead, their feathered headdresses reflecting hellish, red tones. Among them is Cutwell and Flint, clinging to life.

"Damn it!" Freki yells and sprints up the hill after the Dreadwing. "Gotta try to stop him ..." he starts, but instead of completing his thought, from rallying reinforcements, he saves his breath to climb the slope.

He pulls out one of his darts hoping to have a clear throw at the lone runner when he crests the bank.

Glancing at the dead dog, and at her fallen companions, hoping they have not suffered the same fate, Sow grabs up her bow and readies an arrow, drawing it, taking dead aim on the shouting man who cracked her skull…

"Someone help...", Flint croaks weakly, his vision clouded from loss of blood. Everything looks like it's coated in an orange glow. Disoriented and in great pain, he calls out once more, but even weaker than the last.

"Help..."

Cutwell finds himself in black, and walking towards a roaring campfire in the distance; far bigger and brighter than it surely needs to be. The thing stands twice Cutwell’s height, and he can feel the warmth enveloping him with every step closer he takes.

The sound of murmuring and laughter start to reach his ears. Mugs clinking, and backs being slapped. Playful jeers, and impotently returned curses as a man is made the butt of a joke.

Cutwell steps into the light, and finds the heat is surprisingly bearable… comfortable even. The figures cease their merriment and look up at the man when he arrives.

"Aye up, Cutwell! Fancy seeing you here!" one man shouts.

"Took ya long enough, ya lucky bastard." another jokes, and the rest laugh.

Cutwell looks about the fire and finds himself recognizing each of the faces. But… These were men he’d known long, long ago.

"Podge. That’s you, ain’t it?" Cutwell utters, confusion in his voice and on his face.

"And Pigg?" he goes on, looking at another man. The memory is thin at the edges, but Cutwell is sure that these men died years ago. Died, with him standing over them, scalpel and tools in hand, trying to stem their bleeding and heal their battle wounds.

"Oh, sit down, you daft cunt!" another long dead man barks, and they all laugh again. The sound is warm, and inviting, and Cutwell almost feels his legs begin to buckle at the middle.

Freki follows the Dreadwing with the notion that his path will not lead to any booby traps. He clambers over the top of the hill, and finds tall barricades of sharpened timbers and rock piled high. However, in the ensuing chaos of Tunny's missile barrage, the barricades on this side have been abandoned in favour of the eastern side, where iron parasols have been raised to intercept the arrows, and the Dreadwing men are returning fire.

The barricades merely serve to slow Freki's quarry, but he continues trying to sound the alarm. Freki hurls one of his tranq darts, a strikes the desperate man in the haunches. In a moment, he collapses onto the barricade, unconscious.

With his mission accomplished, Freki quickly scouts the scene. The fire flinger is dead center in camp, a great, elongates, bronze drum inscribed with ornate carvings and symbols. It is large enough that three men could lie inside it's mouth. Nearby it are three huge cauldrons of pitch, and men are busy loading the the weapon, eager to fire it upon the Black Skulls raining arrows on them.

Overseeing the operation, you spy one of the enigmatic Ruin Sages cloaked all in black. He stands silent, his arms crossed and his eyes searching, his only expression a scowl.

Meanwhile, on the eastern side, the bulk of the Dreadwings are returning fire. They have suffered few casualties, it seems, under the protection of their iron parasols. Given their advantagous position, you imagine that this might not be true for the Black Skulls below, at least not for long.

Freki exhales a big sigh of relief when the fleeing Dreadwing goes down. After taking cover and scouting, he slides back down the slope to his friends to report.

"I got him, so he won't be raising the alarm. They are fully distracted by Tunny on the eastern slope. Although, there's a Ruin Sage with them and he's looking around suspiciously, so we'll need to be careful."

"I think there's a clear shot from the top of the bank to the fire flinger!" He says to Sow looking at her bow.

"But we'd better get these guys back on their feet first because once the flinger goes up in flames, we're going to need to get out of here quick!"

He squats down next to the former Marchguard to try to calm him down, "Don't worry Flint, we're here, you're gonna be okay." Seeing the blood that he's losing, he applies pressure to the wound until Sow can find Cutwell's bandages.

"Oh, I ... thank you," he says softly.

Weak from blood loss, Flint tries to reach out a hand to Freki in thanks, but he his arm barely moves. He has little strength for the task as his arm flops impotently back down by his side.