Chapter 10
After the decisive victory, the group continued their mission, heading south and east, circumnavigating the sprawling executive complex. They encountered numerous packs of Orcs, each engagement a chance to refine their tactics and test their newfound power.
"I would have been fine, you didn't have to heal me!" Flint grumbled to the healer, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and irritation.
"I saw you go down, and your health dipped 9%. How was I to know you slipped on a pool of blood and bonked your head on your own shield?" Pierce retorted, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"It's okay, but good to know your spell can't heal his pride," Evolon teased, poking Flint playfully with the tip of her bow.
"I'd like to see you try fighting in a pit of blood, guts, and other foul smells I refuse to even attempt to identify," Flint grumbled, splashing himself with a bucket of water.
"That would be urine and feces," Grok interjected dryly. "Orcs evacuate their bowels under extreme stress. It can often deter predators with heightened senses of smell."
"GROSS DUDE! This is why I play a Wizard and not a tank!" Ignis exclaimed, wiping nonexistent dust off his shoulders.
"GRRRRR!" Flint roared, swinging his fluid-covered arm purposefully splashing his companions.
The group continued their mission, veering more south than east, picking off smaller groups of Orcs as they went. As they approached a residential area, Grok alerted the group to an unusual sight. "I see two moving from house to house to your left. They don't appear to be Orcs," she reported.
"Be ready for anything," Pierce warned the group.
Two men emerged from separate houses, each clad in an orange jumpsuit and a pair of orange Crocs. They carried pillowcases filled with stolen goods, their movements halting as they spotted Pierce and Flint.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here, Bosco?" the taller of the two men asked, scratching a tattoo on his cheek.
"Is this them Mighty Morphin Power Rangers? Are they here to save the day?" the second man laughed, a wheezy chuckle escaping his lips. He dropped his pillowcase, a bottle of prescription medication rolling out onto the ground.
"Shorty there thinks he's MC Hammer," the first man mocked, pointing at his companion.
"HAMMER MAN, HAMMER, HAMMER MAN, HAMMER!" the second man chanted, performing an awkward dance.
"Put that thing down before you hurt yourself," the first man warned. "Now run along to your comic book convention before you get hurt."
"I see you just got out of Benton County Lockup. I somehow doubt it was for good behavior. Why don't you go back into those nice people's homes and put the things back that you've taken?" Pierce demanded, his voice stern. He discreetly pulled his climbing pick from his inventory, concealing it behind his back.
"This here, now this house belongs to me, well my girlfriend and you see she owes me so I come to collect," the tall man explained unconvincingly.
"Ooohh, is this one of those Cowboy Face-offs? Where we both talk shit to each other until one side backs down or the violence starts?" Flint asked, idly slapping his massive sledgehammer.
"Naah, this is just a couple of friendly people having a conversation. And you want to be friendly, don't ya?" the first man replied, as both he and his partner pulled out kitchen knives, wielding them with surprising skill.
"The problem with that is you think you have a say in the matter," Pierce countered, revealing his climbing pick.
"Look at him, Bosco, give a boy a scary weapon and he thinks he's a killer," the first man mocked.
"Doesn't look like a killer to me. Looks like someone sticking his nose in somebody's business about to get it cut off," the second man taunted, advancing towards the group.
"You have exactly five seconds to put your weapons down, put the items you have taken back, and head over to County Lockup and check in," Pierce warned, mentally signaling his group to attack if the men made any aggressive moves.
"Five, four, three," Pierce counted down.
"What are you gonna do if we don't just turn tail and run? Call the Po-lease on us? Looks like your cellphones aren't working right now, who's gonna come save you when the bad man comes?" the first man sneered, lunging forward.
"I am," Evolon declared, stepping from behind a tree and firing an arrow that struck the tall man in the neck.
"Me too," Ignis added, firing a shard of ice that struck the smaller man, freezing the ground beneath them.
Seconds passed, and the two men lay motionless on the icy ground.
"It's over," Pierce said, his gaze meeting his friends'. "I hate that we had to do that to our own kind, but they gave us no other choice."
As they were leaving the scene, Grok asked, "What are you going to do with the bodies? Orc culture is to eat the dead so their loss fuels the next generation's body and spirit."
"WE DON'T EAT HUMANS!" the group exclaimed in unison.
"Oh, okay, I understand now. The Donner Party does not eat humans," Grok replied, taking to the skies to scout the area.
"This joke is starting to get old," Pierce muttered to the group chat. "Someone needs to explain it to her tonight."
"I rather like it," Evolon mused. "A little laugh every now and then is nice with the heavy weight in the air, you know, life on the line, violence and all."
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"She's the classic fish-out-of-water comic relief I never knew I needed," Flint agreed, waving up at the flying Orc.
As the group continued their journey south and east, they received alarming news: a massive horde of over 200 Orcs was marching towards a group of over 100 humans near Pinnacle Mall. Pierce, a master tactician, quickly devised an ambush strategy. He led the group to a strategic location, a high ground overlooking the approaching Orcs.
Evolon and Ignis, perched atop the hill, rained down arrows and spells, picking off Orcs with deadly precision. Pierce, meanwhile, healed the injured humans, his healing spells rippling through the crowd, mending wounds and restoring strength. Flint and his three tigers charged into the fray, drawing the Orcs' attention and provoking a frenzied assault on the hill.
The Orcs, unable to gain a foothold on the steep incline, were overwhelmed by the combined forces of the heroes. One by one, they fell, their bodies piling up at the base of the hill. When the last Orc was defeated, the battlefield was silent, save for the crackling flames that consumed the fallen.
Pierce and Evolon approached the group of rescued humans, offering words of comfort and assurance. Meanwhile, Flint and Ignis, ever the loot goblins, looted the fallen Orcs and set their bodies ablaze, a bonfire the only trace of their existence.
"Hey there, what brings you here?" Pierce joked with the group of shocked humans.
"We were hunkering down at Dave and Busters when these monsters burst in and killed or beat anyone who resisted. Thank you so much!" a man with a nametag on his shirt identifying him as Oscar, a manager at Dave and Busters.
"You're relatively safe now. For now, there's a clear path north and west. I suggest rallying at Crystal Bridges, where we've sent other groups," Evolon advised the disheveled group.
"Who are you, what authority do you have?" a large man in a security guard uniform demanded.
"We're the group of humans who just saved you from being eaten by a horde of Orcs," Flint replied, his voice laced with irritation.
"Eaten?" a young girl in the middle of the pack asks with fear in her voice.
"What do you think they're grouping you up for?" Flint muttered.
"A bit of fear is enough to motivate them," Evolon cautioned in the mental chat. "Don't frighten that child to death."
"Oscar, do you know the Greenway Path towards Crystal Bridges?" Pierce asked.
"Miguel does, he bikes that way to work every day. MIGUEL!" Oscar shouted.
A teenage boy stepped forward, gingerly testing his leg, which was recently splinted. "Yes, I know the way, but are you sure it's safe?" he asked.
"We just left that area four hours ago and we cleaned it out for now. If you hurry, you should be safe," Pierce assured him.
"How are you hurting them? We tried baseball bats and shots from a rent-a-cop's revolver, and those monsters just shrug it off," Oscar asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
"I guess we're just lucky," Ignis replied, a hint of arrogance in his tone.
After bidding farewell to the group of humans, the party continued their journey south, navigating the vast parking lots of Pinnacle Hills Promenade. Their eyes in the sky, ever vigilant for any threats. As they moved between the countless wrecked cars, they carefully picked their way through the chaotic landscape.
The group paused for a brief lunch, the distant sounds of gunfire and explosions growing louder with each passing moment.
"Sounds like the National Guard came up from Fort Chaffee and is givin' 'em hell!" Flint exclaimed over the mental chat.
"Looks like the southeast is still the way to go," Pierce decided. "We can get information and help clear up this side of town. Grok, we're going to need you to land and send Bromli back to the cave. It may not be safe in the skies for a bit."
With that, Grok landed, and Bromli flew low back towards the cave. The group continued their journey, following the Railyard Loop Trail through Rogers. They encountered several more groups of Orcs, easily dispatching them with their combined skills.
The group moved cautiously through the streets of downtown Rogers, splitting into pairs: Pierce and Flint, Evolon and a tiger, Ignis and a tiger, and Grok with the large male tiger. They scanned each street and alley, their senses alert for any signs of danger.
As they approached the Railyard bike park, the sound of gunfire grew louder and more frequent. Without the aerial perspective of Grok's dragon, the group was forced to proceed with caution.
Suddenly, they stumbled upon a group of fifteen humans, clad in various camouflage gear and armed with a mix of hunting rifles, AR-15s, compound bows, and even a crossbow. The lead man, dressed in a military uniform, pointed his weapon at Pierce and Flint. "Halt! Declare your intentions," he demanded.
"Hey there, friend," Pierce replied calmly. "We're just a few mountain bikers out here clearing out an infestation of Orcs."
"Oh really, I don't see any weapons other than shorty there with his sledge," the Army man scoffed.
"If you follow the Railyard Loop and Greenway north and east to Crystal Bridges, you'll find heaping piles of Orc corpses every half mile or so. That's our handiwork. If you want further proof, ask the several groups of survivors at the museum, and they'll corroborate our story," Pierce explained.
"That's all well and good, but I need some proof right here and now," the man countered. "You don't look like you could fight off a six-year-old girl with that biker gang getup you got going on." His group spread out, taking cover behind various obstacles.
"Evolon, throw me a few corpses," Pierce requested over the mental link.
Chaos erupted as four naked Orc corpses arced through the air, landing between the two groups. The soldiers, startled by the sudden appearance of the bodies, instinctively opened fire, their bullets piercing the lifeless forms.
"As you can see, those were already dead," Pierce says, checking his party for injuries from behind cover.
"That one needs to learn how to aim," Flint added, plucking a squished bullet from his shield and tossing it aside. He pointed at a young teenage boy who was struggling to hold a rifle almost as tall as himself.
"Dammit, Jonesy!" a rotund man scolded, slapping the boy with his hat.
"I've shown you mine, what information do you have from the South?" Pierce asked, turning the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"Diamond Hogs Air National Guard out of Fort Smith are all down and MIA. The Governor has rallied the Guard out of Fort Chaffee, and they're holding a line from XNA to Hickory Creek in the general area of Highway 264. They got Tanks, APCs, MLRs, even some old M109s bombarding the area. Being understaffed, they're sending out NCOs with groups of hunters across the line on a sweep and clear. About now, there should be endless trains pulling into Little Rock coming from all over the South. They're going to flood this area with guns and bombs. We are to go house to house and ensure all civilians have evacuated before the bombardment moves North," the man explained, spreading a map on the hood of a Tesla and pointing out various locations.
"Well, we will head further west and north back towards the Home Office, which is where they have an honest-to-god magic portal with Orcs streaming out two by two," Pierce countered, tracing a route on the map.
"Sounds good, clear what you can. I can't deputize you or anything, but if anyone gives you any shit, tell them Sergeant Eugene Cox sent ya," the man instructed, rallying his troops.
"Hold on a second," Pierce interrupted. "Evolon, cast Pierce on all their guns," he ordered.
"What?" the Sergeant asked, his eyebrows raised in confusion.
"No problem believing Orcs or a magic portal, but someone casts a spell and the disbelief comes out. This will allow all your bullets to easily pierce their armor for the next ten minutes. Go quickly and make it count," Evolon explained, touching the barrels of each weapon, including the bows and crossbows.
"I'm not sure whether to thank you or curse you. Well, we'll see how this goes," the Sergeant muttered, squinting at Pierce.
"Godspeed, and good hunting," Flint added, slapping the soldier on the back.