When Thel shoves Darwyn into my arms I almost just fall back on my arse, she takes me so much by surprise, but I rally myself quick enough to grab hold of her and plant her on her feet as I watch the dwarf start her clumsy run around the corner. Honestly, I can’t quite believe what I’m watching, but quickly enough the halfling starting to squirm in my grip brings my attention to bear and I remember what she just said. I give her a squeeze now, hissing in her ear as I try my best not to just crush her. “Darwyn, chill! Just wait!”

I’m almost surprised again when she actually does it, going slack in my arms as I shift my weight back onto my knees so I can be ready to spring forward again soon as it’s safe. Just as I hear the first arrow strike Thel and she stumbles, but doesn’t go down, instead just fighting to right herself as she keeps going, before another one hits her and it’s clear enough she’s taking all the fire now. So I just shove Darwyn behind me now and dive forward, scrabbling almost on hands and knees to reach Zuldrad’s prone form and expecting with every inch to get an arrow between my ribs for my troubles after all.

Nothing hits me before I reach him, so I just grab hold of his nearest arm and start dragging him. He starts to squirm almost immediately, letting out a winded but hearty enough scream that’s surprisingly high-pitched to let me know he’s still with us. I don’t stop, instead doubling my efforts as I grab hold of his shoulder with my other hand, not really registering how warmly wet it is until he cries out again. I just dig my fingers into the leather of his pauldron and start tugging, pulling him out of the line of fire now as I see Darwyn dropping to her knees in front of us. Looking more stricken than ever now as she takes in his wretched state.

He's bleeding like a stuck pig, his armour slick wet with blood that makes the leather even more black, and it’s clear enough that whoever shot him was paying close attention and aiming with an expert eye to be able to get around the scattering of plate steel in his gear. As Darwyn starts to cry harder again I probe at the wounds, seeing his shoulder’s good and torn under the armour much like when Art got hit the other night, while the other three are … oh fuck, these are serious wounds. No wonder what little breath he’s getting in is so ragged and wet sounding, both of these are in his lungs, and the other one, lower down in his back … gods, that is his liver …

Before I can say anything to Darwyn, even though I don’t have the first clue what to say as I realise her friend’s probably going to die from these wounds, something barrels hard round the corner to smash into the wall next to us. Something big, I realise now, impossibly big, as big as Driver 8, in fact. Certainly so massive that the wall, which was already subtly dented with broken, spiderwebbed cracks through the pale plaster from what must have been the termination of Lady Naru’s blast, completely craters under the impact. I grab hold of Darwyn as broken shards of plaster and stone rain down around us, along with a thin haze of billowing dust, and just bear her down against the floor again.

Whatever it is grunts loud as it flounders, and when I chance a look my blood runs cold as I realise I’ve seen this before – I remember the armoured ogre from the other night, but it’s no less terrifying now, and right now it’s the worst thing we could possibly have run into. I almost grab firmer hold of Darwyn and start to drag her away, hoping it’s busy enough with extracting itself from the broken stone of the wall it won’t notice us, but remembering Zuldrad stops me. He’s not dead yet, I still have a responsibility for him …

Then the ogre rolls back and lands on its backside heavily enough to shake the whole place, and when it sits up I swear it’s looking right at me with bright eyes that seem far too intelligent. For a moment it just blinks back at me, seeming more surprised than we are as it just takes us both in … then its eyes narrow and it lowers its helmed head as it bares its oversized teeth and starts to growl. Still a genuine threat then.

Certainly I feel in very real danger, particularly once I realise I don’t currently have a weapon in hand while I’m here on my knees, very much at this beast’s mercy right now. Sure, I could grab Darwyn and just run, but that would mean leaving Zuldrad, and I just can’t do it, even if I have a feeling he would probably prefer If I saved his friend instead of him. Which means staying where I am, and fighting. My eyes flicker to my stolen sword, dumped without ceremony a few feet out of reach without stretching, and right now I know that …

When I look up I see the ogre’s followed my gaze, now very much aware of what I’ve been thinking, and I know now my time’s run out. My heart starts to pound harder in my chest than it has all night, even when we were running through the theatre, and I can feel the cold, charged surge of adrenaline pumping through me now, ready to give me a burst of speed. Should I choose to lunge for the sword to defend us both as I’m seriously considering, even though I know it would be of no use at all against this enemy. If this thing charges we’re both flattened.

Then it starts to shift and I stop really thinking now, instead shoving Darwyn down with one hand while I stretch to scrape the sword up with the other … just as I feel tiny clawed hands and feet scramble up and over my arched back, something small but agile and very quick using my shoulders as a launching platform, only letting a feral little snarl go as they leap. When I look up again I see Brung spring at the ogre, which actually reels back as its eyes widen, mostly just surprise but it’s still sudden enough to take a little of the fight out of it, at least for a moment. Which is all he needs as he plucks the knife from his teeth and lands on its face, grabbing hold of the helmet and starting to slash away at whatever it can that’s exposed. The attack lasts for bare seconds before the beast recovers enough wits to whip its gigantic hand across its face, and he’s brushed away, turning over as he tumbles to barely land on all fours.

The ogre looks really pissed when it raises that hand again and tenses its arm to bring it down on him in a great, crushing smash, but in the same moment I hear something behind me … or perhaps I feel it, or more accurately both, knowing Lady Naru’s close behind me now without needing to look. Speaking an incantation as something bright is hurled at our would-be attacker, a bundle of something wild and chaotic, a fizzing, dancing blur of rainbow light and sparks that seems to burst apart at the ogre’s feet before flaring upwards. Suddenly the air’s filled with a great hissing, humming whistle that seems to fluctuate as the sparks start to dance upwards, while the rainbow light stretches and weaves up and around the startled beast in bright, twisting tendrils. The noise builds into a harsh buzz which starts to hurt my ears, then there’s a final flare while the air seems to pop …

Altogether it’s so bright and loud I reel back, I can’t help it, dropping the sword again as I cover my face with my arms, but when I chance a look again, blinking the after-image out of my eyes, all I see is an absence. The ogre’s nowhere to be seen, all there is left is a few scattered sparks that seem to pop and fizz out of existence low in the air where it was.

Once again, when I turn to look at her Lady Naru’s having to lean against her staff for support, although this time she doesn’t look anywhere near as worn as she did when she blasted the corridor behind us. She’s still left breathing heavily, but the fit seems to pass quickly enough, and she manages a slightly wan smile.

“Bloody hell …” I get myself up onto both knees again as I look her over, knowing I’m probably regarding her with something like awe right now. “Now what did you do?”

Frowning a little, the sorcerer considers for a moment. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I just … well, I shunted them somewhere else. I didn’t really have enough time to focus on a specific destination, so I really can’t bank on where they’ll land. Somewhere high, that was about all I could really manage. It’s possible they might hit the ground with a significant amount of force.”

My eyes go a little wider at that, and I’m a beat finding words to reply, but when I do I know I’m smiling a little, although I don’t really know how it’ll actually read. “That was … you know you can be bloody scary sometimes.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, she pushes herself more upright again, looking past me to Zuldrad as the last of her good humour leaks away. There’s worry, but a regret too, and perhaps something a little darker. “Oh … damn it … Shay, I can’t mend that. He needs a proper healer. We have to do something now.”

“We do, yeah.” I turn to look him over myself, as Darwyn just doubles over him, laying her head against his shoulder now while he seems to be breathing shallower still. I can see so much of his blood soaking into the carpet right now … “We have to get to that fucking door. If we get it open Krakka’s right on the other side. He can fix this. And we’ll have all the reinforcements we’d need.” I turn back to Lady Naru. “Can you get it open? I mean we don’t actually know what’s wrong with it –”

“It depends what Tavarrat’s actually done. It could be as simple as removing an enchantment, or it could be horribly complex, I might need to work at it for a while. There’s just no way to know until I arrive.”

“Well if we are gonna do something, we better do it now.” Hearing Thel’s voice now, after seeing her charge around the corner, makes me look up, wondering what she’s doing back, and I find her stood just inside the cover of the wall now, Brung stood beside her. Inspecting the knife in his clawed hand, the blade of which is, I notice, conspicuously clean of blood. Not that I would have expected him to have actually been able to cut the ogre’s stone-hard skin.

She’s in one piece, at least, and I don’t see any arrows stuck in her, although I see a few more conspicuously bright nicks and scratches marking the plates of her armour. Bearing the brunt of the archer’s shots, I suspect. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was that halfling I remember from the Heath, one of Mallys’ mercenaries. Certainly given the presence of that fucking ogre …

Getting to my feet now, I step up to the corner myself, looking her over for a moment before taking a deep breath and glancing out into the open beyond. Wondering what could possibly convince her to turn back right now, even after that great hulking beast was removed from the mix.

There are several more figures stood at the far end of the passage than I would have expected, especially after Lady Naru took so many out in one fell swoop with that crazy spell of hers. But this group … they’re a more eclectic mix, and I recognise many of them, too.

That diminutive archer’s there, just as I expected, but I see the imori too, stood out in the open like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Waiting with his lethal sabre and dagger already drawn in anticipation of an attack. I catch sight of that hedge wizard too, the one from the Heath, stood near the front with his staff tilted towards us, and while he still looks like a stiff breeze could knock him down I’ve learned not to judge with mages by their appearance.

Vandryss is there too, Tavarrat at her side, both skulking at the back with that young half-orc I fought the other night while Kesla crossed swords with Mallys for the first time. I don’t know if he recognises me from there, but I lean out long enough for them to at least register me before I pull back.

It’s the one in front that makes me pause for longer than I intended, just long enough for the halfling to draw her bow again as she crouches off to the side, preparing to take aim on me and finally making me slip out of sight again. I don’t recognise that one, but it doesn’t take much imagination for me to work out who he is. Part of it’s just going off what I learned from Kesla in description after she met him, but to be honest it couldn’t really be anyone else.

Orric Jammund is, to be honest, exactly as I expected him to be. He’s as world-worn as all the other former pirates I’ve run into, both tonight and this afternoon at the Late Bone, but he still wears it so much better. There’s something larger-than-life about the way he just stands there, hand casually laid on the hilt of his still-sheathed sabre, almost slouching as he cocks his head to the side, that suggests he doesn’t have any more care in the world than the imori shadowing him. Like what’s happening right now is just inconveniencing him. To my eye … honestly, there’s nothing about him that looks like an overt threat, and yet somehow, every inch of him still feels like one.

Before I pull back I mark one more thing, too. Remembering the layout of this lowest of the underground floors here in the cellar, I know that to get where I need to go, I have to get through them. The passage turning off at the end of this one branches off at its end in two opposite directions, one of which leads to the tunnels entrance. But directly behind them now, there’s the room we should find Gael in, and likely her father too, at least according to that woman, Sal. They’re so close now … just realising this now almost makes me charge out into the open without further thought. Except it’s clear enough that would be very bad …

“Shit …” I hiss under my breath and I lean back against the wall, letting my head drop back.

Lady Naru’s watching me, concerned now. “What is it –”

“Hello there?” The voice is gruffer than I would’ve imagined, but then I suppose a lifetime of salt-air and shouting orders on a rolling deck would probably do some damage. More than that, there’s something about it … I don’t know why, but just hearing it makes the fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up. Like the air just before a particularly powerful storm, out in the high places in the Reaches. “Can I have a word?”

My eyes meet the sorcerer’s now, and she just frowns deeper, looking past me to the corner. Wary now, which can’t be a good sign. I take a deep breath through my nose and shift as close as I can to the edge without exposing myself, then clear my throat. “Not unless the little one puts down that bow, I’m afraid. And the hedge can fuck off, too.”

“No, I don’t reckon that’ll do, luv. Well, s’pose we can hear each other well enough from here. Where’s the big one? I would’ve expected her to be leading the charge.”

Gritting my teeth, I bite back my retort and just press on. “What do you want, Jammund? If you knew what was good for you you’d just surrender now, it’ll save you a lot of grief.”

“Really? You sure ‘bout that, luv? Far as we can tell you’re more’n a few short for that. The rest o’ you are still conspicuously stuck out in the tunnels. I’d be real interested to see what you got planned makes you so confident all of a sudden.”

Hissing a curse under my breath, I turn back to Lady Naru and beckon her over. She comes quickly, leaning in close so I can whisper low. “Can you do that thing you did before again? The way you cleared this corridor, I mean.”

Looking into space for a moment, her eyes seem to go glassy before she blinks again and then shakes her head. “No, not with those mages there. If it was just the hedge wizard I might have caught them unaware like the others, but I hazard a guess that’s Tavarrat in the back. She would make that … too difficult, I should think.”

Fighting the growl that wants to come now, I still grit my teeth as I instead wonder: “What about Big Man? Any chance you could summon him in here? You know, like a reversal of what you did with the ogre?”

“I’m sorry, Shay, but it doesn’t work like that. I just banished them, it’s not really a spell built for a great amount of nuance. And even if I could there’s nowhere near enough room in here for that to –"

“Tell you what, luv.” Jammund runs right over her now. “I’ll give you … let’s see, how ‘bout we say another … minute to pull back, send word to yours out there that they’re to do the same so you can all just fuck off right now, an’ maybe your pointy-eared friend’ll live to see another sunrise after all. Way things’re going right now their time’s getting real short.”

I barely manage to keep from snapping a hasty insult back, and my fingers still audibly tighten all on their own around the hilt of the sword as it is. I shoot a look at Lady Naru’s staff, then to Brung and Thel each, trusting her to work out what I mean, then turn back before bothering to watch her reaction. “Yeah, you know what, Jammund? That won’t do either. Right now you not doing that’s the only thing keeping me from cutting you to pieces the moment I reach you. If you were to tempt fate any more I’d have to get nasty. How long did you say? A minute? That’ll be less than that now for you to make a decision on the matter, I should think.”

Lady Naru hisses low, no real word, just showing her regard to this, but she still leans in close to start whispering to Thel. Meanwhile I start to pull back from the corner, taking a breath as I move towards Darwyn, still slumped beside the stricken hobgoblin. Setting my stolen weapon aside, I drop to my knee beside her.

“Listen here, I don’t reckon you’re hearin’ me, girl. You can’t win this, you ain’t got the numbers, an’ you definitely ain’t got enough magic, not with just one mage, we got you outclassed there. All you’re doing is wasting your time, and your friend’s time too. You’re getting ‘em killed. Just go. Now. While you still can.”

Trying not to let him fray my nerves, I just grit my teeth and reach out, laying my hand against Darwyn’s back, high up, slowly moving my fingers to start massaging the nape of her neck, gentle as I can be. Keeping my voice soft, whispering low to her alone. “Darwyn? Please, I need you to buck up and get your shit together. We need you. Right now.”

For a long moment she doesn’t respond, quiet and still enough I start to worry that she might have been fundamentally broken by this, her friend’s time is ticking away so quickly now, his chances so slim they’re almost non-existent. I feel so cold and cruel and fucking heartless just having to ask this right now, but I have no choice, we need her. Just like Jammund said, we don’t have the numbers, and if she is broken then we have one less.

Then she finally stirs, stiffening a little under my hand while she slowly raises her head. She doesn’t turn to face me, in the end she just gives me a bare glance through the corner of her eyes, the slimmest of eye contact. Her hair hangs around her face, I can barely see the state of it now, but it’s clear enough to me how fraught she is now, barely a shell of herself. “Leave me alone.” She breathes the words so low I almost miss them.

“Gods damn it … Darwyn, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I mean it, we need you now –”

Turning fast, she smacks my hand away as she rounds on me, and suddenly her grief is changing into anger, she’s almost fiery with rage now as she confronts me. “Fuck you!” She still only hisses the words, somehow managing to exert enough control on herself to keep from raising her voice, but there’s so much force in her speech even so. “Fuck you for this, I can’t do this now, I gotta help him. I can’t leave my friend, look at this, look what they done to him, I gotta stay with him –”

My hand moves without me really thinking about it first, it flies almost on its own as I slap her with a restrained back-hander that nonetheless still makes her stumble as she reels back and almost falls. Not stunned, she’s just shocked by what I’ve done, as much as I am and I’m sure it’s writ large across my face. But I don’t go back on it now, clenching my teeth as I suck a fresh breath in and trying to close my face off. “Stop it. I mean it, we don’t have time for this. Gael hasn’t got time, if we don’t move now they’re going to kill them.” I reach out again, grabbing her shoulder and dragging her close, and she doesn’t resist me, likely still too startled to fight back. So I press my advantage. “Fucking listen to me, if you want Zul to survive this you’re going to help us. His only hope is on the other side of that door, at the end of this bloody maze, Krakka’s out there and he needs us to open the way for him. Do you understand me?”

Slowly, as her eyes start to fill with tears again, she reaches up to her face, pressing her fingers to her jaw and cheek which are already red from my strike. Part of me is desperate to apologise to her for it, but I bite it off, just hoping I’ve gotten through to her. Finally she blinks, and while the gathered tears run she doesn’t break down this time, instead standing up straight while her face starts to harden. Even so, her voice still wobbles, a little cracked. “I’m … I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m with you. I just …”

My eyes flicker to Zuldrad for a moment, still crumpled on the floor close by, his breath slow and faint and rasping, his face so pale. There’s very little time left to him, now. I really hope I’m right, that there still is some tiny hope for him, as much for her sake now as for him. “I promise … I promise you, this is his best chance. Are you ready?”

Sniffing hard, she wipes her face as clean as she can with the heel of her glove, which is still bloody enough it smears fresh gore onto her cheeks while blotting the tears. But her expression is a lot harder now, more determined, the anger returning to her now. She slips both of her longest knives free from their scabbards and takes a deep breath, which only hitches a little. “Yeah. I am fucking ready. I wanna kill something.”

Letting a more relieved sigh go, I reach over to drag the sword back up from the floor, then as I’m looking at it I consider for a moment before starting to scan our immediate surroundings, hoping maybe I can find something a little more suitable for me here. Maybe one of the unfortunate bastards here had a blade I can put to better use than this heavy, unwieldy thing. But even as I start looking I realise it’s a long shot, there are smaller swords here but nothing that looks remotely worth my time. Most of the steel here’s workmanlike at best, and I just don’t trust it. Looks like I’m stuck with this thing for now.

As I get to my feet again I give Lady Naru a look, and find she’s already starting to weave a sigil, which looks like another complicated one. She doesn’t look too happy about it, but she still holds her tongue as she meets my gaze, instead tightening her grip on her staff with her other hand and turning to look where we have to go. Steeling herself now.

Thel’s just breathing heavy, her heavily armoured shoulders rising and falling in a particularly intimidating fashion with each pull and push, while her brow is tightly knitted and her face dark as she watches the sorcerer. Gripping her axe tight in her hands, held low and ready for violence. Ready to charge.

Brung looks up at me now, cocking his head somewhat like a small dog would, and while I still can’t read his expression at all, the gesture feels like a query. Breathing out slow, I just give him a little nod, and I think he reads it right as he turns to step up beside the dwarf, drawing his shortsword again in anticipation.

Jammund’s voice comes again from out of sight: “You still there? I mean I know you are. You really ain’t thinking it through, are you? You ain’t got a dog’s chance in this fight, luv. This ain’t gonna go right for you at all.” He sighs loud enough for me to catch, but I doubt there’s any more sincerity in it than any of the feigned regret he’s putting on. “Last chance, girl. Count o’ ten. Nine. Eight. Seven –”

“Now …” I barely breathe it to Lady Naru, but she responds instantly, muttering an incantation which makes the sigil flare warm yellow, then split in two, seeming to float in front of her as she now immediately pushes out into the open. Already raising her staff, which seems to gleam for just a blink, like there’s a sparking light that rides up its length from the butt to its very tip in the space of a blink, and when the top starts to glow I know it wasn’t any kind of trick of the light. She raises it in both hands, already aiming it as she steps out, and I just follow right behind as I break into a tight, crouching charge at her side.

The first thing I hear as we emerge is the shunting twang of the loosening bowstring, but I’m already starting to wind up my first swing, so as the halfling’s arrow streaks towards me I’m sharp enough to cut it in two in mid-air before it can do any harm. Then Sulin unleashes whatever the spell is she’s built up in her staff and for a moment I’m blinded, the ensuing flash is so bright it’s a miracle I don’t stumble on the spot in sheer disorientation. Instead I just soldier on, continuing to charge in the same direction I’ve been heading, hoping I don’t blunder into her or the nearest wall as I work on blinking my eyes clear again.

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My eyesight clears within bare moments, the bright blur shifting enough I can at least make out a vague picture of what’s going on, and I can see more than a few of the people ahead of us are stumbling back, seemingly even more blinded and disoriented than I was. As if she somehow managed to shield me at the last as she cast the spell, although I don’t have the first clue how. The imori seems the most stricken, all but doubled over while he grips his head with his offhand, hissing and snarling in clear pain, but I see Jammund’s taken a strong hit too. And he was always where I planned on aiming anyway …

Then Thel slips around me and sprints forward, already starting to roar a fierce battle-cry which I’m not sure is really wise if she plans on taking advantage of them being momentarily blinded. On the other side, just through the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Brung bounding up on the other side, managing to keep pace with her as he uses his free hand too to propel him along faster … then the sorcerer stops for a single beat, dropping out of sight now as I keep going, but the two hovering sigils both suddenly streak out ahead of her. Heading straight for both of them.

Yeah … granted, this was technically my plan, but now I’m very much realising that not actually discussing it means I have no idea what she’s actually doing here. So when the floating bundles of strange glowing yellow lines, squiggles and dots inexplicably drop down to whip under their feet, I’m a little startled when their next steps see them both suddenly fall into them. Almost as if the split spell just opened gaping holes in the floor, and they both just vanish from sight.

This time I really do falter on the spot, seeing that is just too much for me in the moment, and as I stumble to a halt I blink again as I start to cast about for where they’ve gone. Just as two more of these strange glowing “holes” appear in the air on the far side of the group ahead, and they both immediately drop through. Ah, yeah … okay, I understand it now. That‘s actually bloody brilliant. For a moment I almost expect them to start cutting into the momentarily disoriented figures around them, but instead they just keep on running, quickly turning the corner at the bottom of the passage and vanishing from sight. Already heading for the tunnel entrance.

Then Jammund blinks a few more times, wiping his eyes with thumb and forefinger, and finally squints a little as he starts to focus again … and his eyes find me much quicker than I would have expected. His already well-furrowed brows crease further as they look me up and down, then he cocks one of them as one corner of his mouth starts to tick upwards. He takes a step forward now, reaching across and drawing his sword in an almost languid motion, like he wants to take his time with this, and his smile starts to grow.

You’d be that half-orc, I take it? It’s interesting, Van could’ve sworn she killed you already, there was some doubt whether or not you were the same one. But seeing you now, reckon it’s a lot easier to believe.”

Through the corner of my eye, I see Lady Naru step up to the imori and, with a deft spin of her staff, comes very close to knocking him to the floor. He’s barely with it enough after his own brief blinding to duck aside, baring a mouthful of particularly scary teeth at her with a low hiss as he dances back, but he’s watching her with cold wariness now. Regarding her as a proper threat now, but not attacking yet, his eyes instead flickering to Jammund, like he’s checking to see what he does first. The sorcerer gives the stave a more showy flourish before tapping it to the floor beside her, drawing herself up to her full height to the side between me and the pirate, and gives him a cool look. He returns it, still looking surprisingly unfazed.

“You’re an interesting one too, I don’t mind saying. Real easy on the eyes.” He sneers at her for a moment, before turning back to me. “Truth be told, though, I’m more interested in this one. I’m curious to see how well she dances.”

“What makes you think I’d give you the chance?” the sorcerer hisses now, her striking eyes narrowing as her lips draw tight. “Despite what you might suppose, you are the one who’s outclassed.”

“No, you need to go.” I growl, watching Jammund now as he ignores her, still focused on me as he takes a half-step back into a very strong ready-guard. It’s enough to make me follow suit too, since I intended to do this anyway. “Get that door open, let the others in. Go fast.”

There’s a moment I think she might argue, but in the end she just steps back, taking her staff up in both hands while giving me a dark sidelong glare. “Damn it …”

“I’ll stay with you.” Darwyn’s tensed low on my other side, looking up at Jammund with both her knives cocked and ready. She looks close to furious right now, enough that diminutive as she is she still looks like a genuine threat in her own right. “Help you cut this puffed up pirate down to size.”

“No, you go with her.” I turn back to Jammund. “He’s mine. Besides, I’m going for Gael.”

His brow quirks a little higher at that, his head tilting a little as he looks me over with a more critical eye now. “You got no chance o’ getting past, luv. Just me or the lot of us, we’ll cut you all down before you get halfway.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” I shoot Lady Naru a quick sidelong look and hiss: “Go!”

As Jammund blinks, starting to frown a little, Lady Naru just lunges past me as she ducks down and grabs hold of Darwyn’s wrist. Now he starts to twig, and as his eyes narrow while he lunges forward she just speaks that strange soundless sensory word while the halfling doesn’t even have a chance to try and struggle, barely even managing to squeak: “Wait –” before they’re both gone.

I don’t even bother trying to follow where they’re going to now as I just take advantage of the old pirate’s momentary distraction as his intended target just vanishes right in front of him in that strange gaping half-glimpsed emptiness, the tiny prowler along with her. I lunge forward and whip the sword around low, hoping to get under his arm on the left, thinking I might be able to cut him open under the ribs and maybe end the fight before it’s had a chance to start.

Except he darts aside just as suddenly as I’m coming for him, and while he’s clumsy about it, caught out and almost throwing himself away from my blade, his footwork is smooth enough he almost makes it look effortless enough it could have fooled a lesser fighter. I have to plant my feet and draw back into a wary guard in order to keep from overbalancing myself, but at least he’s in no position to take advantage of me in turn, instead taking two more large steps back, bringing him close to the wall now as he regards me with a much more cautious eye.

Now I hear more commotion further down the corridor, almost enough to make me shift my attention that way just long enough to check what’s happening, but I know well enough that it’s the rest of them trying to muster as Lady Naru comes out on the other side. I manage to catch a rather harried oath of: “For fuck’s sake, hold on!” from Darwyn, then a deafening crack as there’s a less bright flash from that direction, followed by the sound of at least a couple of stumbling bodies, and more swearing.

I just hold my ground, my eyes still locked on Jammund as I take a wary step back and to the side again, uncomfortably aware now that I’m the only one still here on this side of their group. Knowing full well that if I have miscalculated this I could well be overwhelmed in a matter of moments.

Thankfully he’s taking a chance as he shoots a sidelong glance to check on the unfolding scene, which gives me enough confidence to do the same. Beyond him I catch sight of a smouldering, smoking crater in the middle of the passage, where the hedge wizard is starting to push himself up while the halfling looks ready to spit as she inspects her now smashed and ruined bow. The imori’s just focusing on me though, carefully edging his way around Jammund’s side now as he holds his sword low and seems to be looking for an opportunity for his own attack. Damn it … that’s not what I was hoping for …

“Fucking bitch … oh for … ORRIC!!!” The frustration is sharp in Vandryss’ voice, her thick Tektehran accent giving it a particularly harsh edge, and while I can’t really see her through the haze of the smoke from the spell’s aftermath I’m sure she’s glaring daggers right now. “Just end this shit! It’s time!”

His eyes narrow as he growls something low and angry under his breath I can’t make out, but he’s focusing on me again. “Oh for … just go! I’ll hold this one here, I need you both to go! Follow the plan, like we discussed!”

“What?” This time it’s Tavarrat who speaks up, and I can hear a subtle edge of desperation in her voice. “No, we can’t … I’m not leaving you! Don’t be stupid Orric, just –”

“I fuckin’ mean it, Luthan! Leave now!”

“Shit!” I actually hear Vandryss spit, she does it with such ferocity, then she starts barking orders at the mercenaries around her with genuine fury. “You lot! Fucking get after them! Right now, just do the job you were bloody hired for! Stop them now, preferably permanently, like you’re supposed to!”

For a moment the hedge wizard and halfling just look at each other, then back at her, like they don’t understand the order, then he hefts his staff and reaches out with his free hand, offering it to her. She looks at it for a long beat, and I know immediately what that’s about, making it instantly clear that she feels the same about porting as I do. Then she shakes her head and takes hold, although she’s wincing as she does it … then he speaks his incantation and they’re both gone. Leaving the imori, who’s looking back now, seeming to be wondering about his own role as he then turns back to me, baring his teeth as he must consider staying after all.

Beyond I can see the rest of them, the haze finally thinning enough again, catching sight of Tavarrat already making for the door behind them, reaching for the lock while Vandryss grabs hold of the half-orc before he can follow my friends. Instead she drags him after as the warlock unlocks the door and stares out towards Jammund with a pining look for a beat while the other two enter before ducking through herself.

“Master Ixen, if you would, reckon your mates’d appreciate your company.” Jammund hisses now, still maintaining eye contact with me.

“What?” His face isn’t the only thing about him that seems more snakelike than anything else, his voice more of a rasping hiss than true speech, while his accent’s the thickest Abharetian I’ve ever heard. “No, I’m here to fight, and this one here will give me –”

“I have this.” There’s a cool warning to Jammund’s tone now as he lets more of a growl enter his voice. “You heard my colleague, go do your job. Y’already took the money, go and fucking earn it. Before they let the rest of ‘em in here and complicate matters.”

The way the imori looks at me now makes it abundantly clear he wants so badly to ignore him and just come at me, and I find myself tensing in anticipation as a fresh tingle of bitter adrenaline starts coursing through me. I wonder what Jammund would actually do if he did, if he’d just back off and let it happen, follow his friends or go after mine instead, or if he’d use the distraction and gang up on me with this terrifying beast. Neither likelihood much appeals to me – even on his own I genuinely don’t know if I actually could stand against this one …

“Fuck …” Taking a long step back, this Ixen fellow starts to withdraw with a frustrated growl, baleful bright eyes narrow as he keeps then locked on me, finally pointing his sword my way as he adds: “Maybe our paths will cross again, I would certainly hope so. Until then …” He watches us both for several more crabbing steps before finally turning and breaking into a run in the same direction the rest of his crew went.

Unable to restrain myself, I clear my throat and yell out with all I can: “SULIN!!! DARWYN!!! WATCH YOUR BACKS!!! THERE’S MORE COMING!!!”

Jammund cocks his brow, that crooked little smile returning now. “Mind what’s in front o’ you, lass. Your fight’s here, not with them.”

Vandryss going through that door instead of following the others makes me uncomfortable, whether she went with Tavarrat or not. After the threats this bastard made towards Gael, it worries me greatly that they’ve gone to do awful harm to my friend, enough that I’m already starting to regret my decision to stay here for a one-on-one fight instead. I have to fight my way through him to get to them now, while that cruel bitch could have killed them already. I don’t have time for this.

So I just growl: “I’ve got wits enough for you.” under my breath, shifting my stolen sword forward in a low two-handed guard … and charge him.

His eyes widen considerably as I rush him with my sword already swinging, letting me know I’ve caught him unaware enough at least for a chance as he takes another step back and starts to twist, trying to parry my stroke. So I turn it into a feint as I suddenly duck left and run up the wall to get my foot up high enough to launch myself with sufficient force to bring my sword down swift and heavy on him from above.

Only for him to turn into it with a startled grunt and bring his sword up just in time to catch the blow across its flat, bringing his other hand up at the last to firm his grip up a little. In the end the force of my intended blow still drives both of our blades down far enough he has to bend significantly to his side to keep my edge from cutting high into his shoulder after all, finally stopping it a bare inch short of biting home. I grit my teeth and push harder, trying to force it into him after all, but he’s stronger than I originally expected, his rangy limbs holding surprising power despite his clear age. He’s straining as hard as I am, but holding up impressively well.

In the end it starts to feel like a stalemate, and while I know I could probably win in a battle of attrition if I decided to just wait him out I just can’t afford the time right now. So I finally pull back quick with a frustrated snarl and spring away to open up space between us, mindful in case he can muster enough speed to attack after all while I withdraw. Instead he just staggers back a step himself, gasping as he sucks in fresh breath, instead just winded for the moment but strong enough at least to keep his sword up now, pointing it at me with a steady enough hand to keep me beyond arm’s length as he composes himself.

His eyes dancing as he regards me. “That was … sneaky, you got some moves. Strong too.”

Narrowing my eyes, I don’t answer him, instead just taking a few steps to the side, approaching the wall again. Not quite enough room to circle, not in this relatively tight corridor. Judging what moves are actually available to me right now, since he’s clearly shown he’s got some talent of his own. He just watches me, getting his breathing under control again, and I see the wheels turning behind his eyes now, thinking like I am. Evaluating the threat, adjusting his plan accordingly. Meanwhile my overall problem remains the same, I still have to get past him.

So I suck in a frustrated breath through my teeth and take a step closer before planting my feet, keeping my sword low now as I loosen my grip up a little. Watching his eyes.

I don’t have to wait long, catching his quick glance to my right just before he lunges and twisting accordingly, but staying loose in case it’s a clever feint instead. But he comes in as I expected, and as I dance aside I bring my sword round, hoping to cut him down while he’s still turning in response. Except that he twists aside when I swat my blade towards him, ducking under my stinging slash before wheeling about on wide feet and trying to cut up under my defences after. I have to spring back to avoid the blow, and skip away with my heart in my mouth, finally winding up with my back to the wall once I’ve opened enough distance between us.

Slowly realising I’m past him now, I risk a quick glance up the corridor that’s now behind me, empty save for the charring from Lady Naru’s spell marking the carpet and bottom of the wall. Nothing between me and the door now, then. I could just run for it right now.

Except he’s still too spry for me to risk turning my back on him right now, and as I narrow my eyes he must work out what I’m thinking. He takes the first step towards me, cautious even as he gives his sword a cocky little flourish, and I grit my teeth as I step away from the wall, lowering the sword so it just hangs loose at my side as I wait for him on looser feet. Trying a different approach now.

Cocking his head, he pauses for a long moment as he looks me over again. Reevaluating me. I fight the urge to growl in frustration and take a few light, dancing steps towards him, hoping he’ll just take the bait and end my waiting.

Instead he just frowns, the smile fading quickly as he takes a wary step to his side, starting to crouch as he lowers his sword too, letting me come in, so I slow my approach, not planting my feet yet but continuing to bait him as I wait just outside easy reach. Trying to open my jaw now as I fight to keep myself loose.

When he comes this time he moves with more caution, but with a similar lightness of step that almost makes me miss the feint when he makes it. His sword comes swift enough I nearly miss the swipe, so I just stop thinking and respond, and while my own stolen blade is heavy and really not built for wielding one-handed, it parries quick and clean enough to make him dance back. I press before he can entirely recover, aiming a few swift, darting jabs at his centre of mass while I jump forward, keeping loose as I step with light feet, hoping I can harry him into the wall now as he backs up while striking each jab aside.

Instead he finally wheels aside, again trading places with me as the limited width of the passage makes true circling difficult. This time when he backs up he doesn’t leave me waiting long, coming quick with a high attack that I don’t bother trying to parry, instead just ducking aside and rushing past him to open another gap between us. As he turns I skip backwards on the balls of my feet, beckoning him in with my free hand.

This time when he frowns at me for a beat before letting a wary huff go and then charging I plant my feet firm at the last and step back onto my trailing foot, extending the sword before me in a firm, locked thrust pointed directly at his chest. He barely manages to arrest his charge enough to stumble aside, and when he staggers into the wall I break out of my stance with sharp, hungry speed, swinging the sword in a deft flourish while I wind up my attack, bringing my other hand up to add strength to the stroke.

He stays where he is, likely realising when he sees me coming he doesn’t have time or good enough footing to spring aside so he just swings his sword up into his free hand to meet my stroke. He just manages to get it up in time, stopping my blade again, and we lock up, him gritting his teeth after finally managing to plant his feet as he fights to keep me a bare blade’s width shy while I again strive to drive my own edge into him, this time going for his throat. The steel between us scrapes and squeals under the strain we’re putting on it, but both blades are too well made, and we’re too evenly matched in strength still, so neither of us are going to win a shoving match.

Growling low in my face, the tendons standing right out in his throat while his face is flushing red, a condition I suspect is frustratingly is similar to my own right now, Jammund snarls: “For Thorin’s sake … what exactly is the fucking plan here, luv? You tryin’ to wear me down? It’s starting to look like you’re getting’ tired as me right now …”

“Oh … will you just … shut the fuck up?” I try to shove a little harder, but it’s like I have no more strength to give, every joint in me seems to be locked tight while all my muscles, from my arms and back right down to my thighs and calves, are screaming for this to just be over. He’s got a point, I don’t know how much more of this I can actually take.

Seems like he’s trying to do much the same thing, working on bringing his right arm up now but only succeeding in turning his wrist a bit to raise his elbow a foot or so, while his breath is a tight, wheezing hiss … then he lets out a winded snarl at the same time that his whole upper body twists. We’re locked so tight together right now I can’t do anything in response, the movement’s so sudden I just wind up going with his motion so the sword gripped like a vice by my fingers jumps up and to the right, driven hard into the wall by his head. The edge bites into the plaster with a squeaking scrape that shrieks in my ears and I’m immediately overbalances as I have to stretch to prevent the weapon from getting torn right out of my grip. Meanwhile he twists out of our broken lock, dragging his own sword down with wicked speed as he does so. And I’m not wearing a single scale of armour …

The only thing that saves me from getting carved right open on the spot is timing, my momentum spinning me around as I’m thrown aside so that his blade glances me with a fairly shallow cut that mostly just slices meat. Even so, the pain is instant and significant, a line of white hot agony opening under my left arm, and pure survival instinct takes over as I stumble away, almost falling as I wheel away from him. The only mercy is that suddenly my breathing comes easier as the corset’s significantly loosened, but as I feel hot wetness immediately start to spread over my hip and leg my head starts to go light as I realise that’s my blood. Shit … not again, I just got over the last time …

Stumbling away, I keep moving to try and open some ground between us until my back meets the wall and my legs almost give out under me. I let myself collapse just enough to start clawing some focus back, but I can’t breathe in anywhere near as deep as I’d like while my side flares with fresh pain from each expansion of my ribs. It’s making it hard enough to concentrate, but when I finally chance a look down I see that my whole left leg’s already slick with blood, the cloth of my skirts a much darker shade of red than the dress Lady Naru fashioned. I reach up now with my shaking hand and try to staunch the flow, but I can’t manage much more than a prod before a greater agony lights up right through me and I actually swoon for a moment, barely managing to keep from collapsing on the spot. Somehow I claw my way back to full consciousness but it’s a hard thing indeed.

Fuck … he actually did some damage here, more than any other time tonight I’m thoroughly lamenting the fact that I was forced to come here with no bloody armour at all. Even a few layers of light boiled leather would surely have been better than this …

The only real saving grace for me right now is that Jammund hasn’t attacked while I’ve been comprehensively distracted, but then when I finally manage to blink enough to regain focus I can see he’s still doubled against the other wall. He’s still breathing heavily, his sword barely gripped in loose fingers hung at his side while he’s propped on his knee with the other hand, only now raising his head to look my way as he pants away. He looks pretty pissed off, but there’s real weariness there in his face too, showing me that, while he clearly wants to murder me more than ever before, right now he can’t actually muster the strength to do it. Unfortunately I’m almost certain he’s going to get his second wind significantly before I do.

Meanwhile time keeps on slipping through my fingers as I remember that I can’t afford to keep floundering here right now. Never mind that I’m clearly hurting, I still need to finish this quickly. So I grit my teeth and mentally prepare myself for what I know I have to do as I force my legs to straighten out a little more, my back too, drawing myself back up to something like my proper height as I try to tighten my grip on my stolen sword … then jam my hand firmly down against the wound in my side and barely manage to bite back the rising scream as the sudden flare of more acute pain wakes me right up again. I push myself away from the wall in the same moment and strive forward, my first steps a very clumsy stagger before I start to wrestle a little more focus and balance into my movements. Letting the sword drag by its point on the floor for the moment as I force myself forward a step at a time, saving what strength I have for when I actually need it.

Jammund sees me coming, of course, his eyes narrowing as he lets another winded grunt out, and he shoves himself up too, starting to shift around me as he stumbles into the middle of the corridor, trying to flank me now, I realise. I wheel around to face him as I do my best to plant my feet, pulling in another relatively deep breath that makes my ribs ache but does at least stoke my growing anger, adding fuel to the fire I use to focus. Watching him as he considers me for a long beat, wary now in spite of clearly being In significantly better condition at the moment.

Very slowly, I drag the sword up from where its resting against the floor, raising it as well as I can between us, shifting my trailing foot back as I try to effect a guard while I’m still gripping my side with my offhand. Even though I’ve managed to get the weapon up, I’m not so confident that I’ll actually be able to wield it right now when it comes to actual fighting …

Then he stops biding his time and comes for me, not bothering with a feint given my condition but instead just slashing up under the open side of my defences, and I stop thinking again, just letting my instinct and muscle memory take over now. It’s all I have left under the circumstances. My footwork’s wilfully clumsy as I don’t so much dance back as stumble, but somehow it’s coordinated enough that I don’t just trip and fall down as I manage to parry and counter every one of his swift, slicing attacks.

Even so, I’m not fighting back at all, simply letting him drive me back as I just defend myself. He slowly starts to wear me down, my movements growing more desperate and less precise as my focus starts to slip, my limbs growing heavier under his punishment, the weight of the weapon in my one remaining good hand and the encroaching exhaustion from my wound. I can’t keep this up much longer, and he knows it, so he just continues to work me back, trying with each attack to work his way through my defences but clearly growing more confident with each passing second that I’m as likely to falter on my own now.

Finally he drives in a particularly wicked thrust that I just barely manage to turn aside, but then he twists his lighter, quicker blade around and twists my own weapon around, causing me to stumble while my wrist bends badly and my grip falters. The hilt slips free of my weakened fingers and even as the sword rattles off to the side he’s already following through, not with his own blade but a hard kick to my stomach. The brutal impact must batter the wind right out of me, but I really don’t notice, the sympathetic explosion of fresh pain in my side as I’m pounded back is all that I really notice, exacerbated by a second flare when I land on my back a few feet further down the corridor.

My head swims as I come worryingly close to passing out after all, and I’m a long beat blinking up again before I manage to claw back enough watery, tear-blurred focus to catch sight of him staggering up. He’s breathing heavy again, at least letting me know that he still hasn’t fully recovered from our previous struggle just before he cut me open, meaning that his subsequent burst of impressive violence must have taken a deal more out of him that he let show. That being said, as he towers over me now with his sword still firmly in hand I doubt he’s going to need to work too hard now to finish me off.

Even so, I still muster up just about enough paltry strength to rummage under my skirts to slip out the remaining knife still strapped to my thigh, although as I work to raise it between us now I doubt I have the strength to actually use it. Looking up at him as he pauses to ponder the blade, then glances back up to meet my eyes, it’s clear enough he must come to the same conclusion. A slow, weary smile starts to creep across his lips, and a cold chill of inevitable dread rolls over me as I realise I’m about to die.

Then his back arches as he gasps in surprise and sudden, pained shock, a long, lethally sharp length of tapering pointed steel suddenly erupting from a little left of the centre of his chest with a surprisingly heavy burst of blood. The jet’s powerful enough for more than a few drops to splash my face, making me blink in startled surprise, and it must be a match to the look on his face because he clearly can’t believe what’s just happened as he gapes down at the long blade rammed right through his heart. As the strength leaves his arms and they drop to his sides his own sword slips from his slackening fingers to bounce away across the floor, then the blade’s the only thing holding him up as his legs follow suit. His mouth works for a few moments as he tries to speak, but nothing’s coming, then his eyes turn glassy before the light just leaves them entirely and his face goes slack, his head slumping forward. Orric Jammund expires without any ceremony at all.

“He’s …” I gasp as even the effort to speak makes my side scream now. “Oh fuck … ah … he’s dead, Kesla. You can let him down.”

The seemingly massive sliver of steel is swiftly drawn back out of the corpse and it drops all at once like a limp ragdoll, revealing my friend as she hobbles back a few steps, very much favouring one leg while the other’s planted stiff out to her side. “Yeah … oof … figured you needed help when I heard you shouting. Took me a while to get here, mind.” She blinks down at the body for a moment before finally turning to me, and her eyes quickly widen as she gets a proper look at the state I’m in. “Oh … oh fucking hell, Shay! Not again … gods, why is it always you?” Lowering her sword, she has to take another clumsy, swaying stumbling step to the side to reorient herself before she starts to move towards me.

“No! Kesla, there’s no time! Get to Gael! Do it now!” I point to the door, my desperation filling my voice now. “Quick!”