Dawn came late on that overcast morning, the beginnings of rain drizzling drearily over the town of the goblin-folk. Myra, cloak held tight about her, made her way stealthily through the town, keeping out of sight of people that were beginning to choke the streets. Men and beasts were dragging themselves out of slumber. The companies and the baggage trains were being assembled, while the townspeople watched with grim silence as their sons and brothers donned the raiments of war, wondering who would not be returning home.

From behind a dark corner, Myra watched as men of Talon’s band rushed past. She made her way to their quarters, and waited. Eventually, she saw Thorn poke her head through the door, scanning the surroundings before she fully emerged, holding a pistol in one hand and one end of a length of rope in the other. Thorn walked into the abandoned street and tugged the rope, guiding along a shambling figure draped in a heavy blanket, wrists tied together.

“Come along, old man,” Thorn hissed. “You want out this place, don’t ye? You don’t follow me and start a ruckus, I’ll make sure to flay that Myra bitch alive and hang you with her skin. Doesn’t matter to me if Talon likes her. Hurry up.”

Thorn led the way stealthily through to the outer edge of town, far away where the army was assembling at the main gates. Ruadh stumbled along, not making a sound. They drew near to a small gatehouse, and Thorn knocked on the door until a local guard poked out his head. It was a simple thing for Thorn, hiding behind the open door, to come around suddenly and pistol-whip that guy, sending him sprawling to the ground unconscious.

“Well that was relatively painless,” she muttered, dragging Ruadh into the gatehouse. Taking out a stolen key from her belt, Thorn soon had the small side-gate open and was through it and into the woods behind, careful not to be seen by any watchers on the walls.

After a short while, Thorn paused at the edge of a deep ditch that seemed to be an old riverbed. She holstered jer her pistol and drew her dagger. “Hopefully your bones will be scattered before anyone finds ye, old man. I’ve got to hurry back, so no time to bury your sad sack. Even so, Talon will soon have what he wants, you can be sure of that.” She cackled. Ruadh didn’t see what happened next, but there was a the sound something flying through the air, a sharp crack, and the dull thud of something landing heavily on the ground.

Myra, with a rock in hand, stepped over the limp body of Thorn. “Ruadh?” she said, pulling at the blanket and removing it. “By the Fates…” she breathed, “What have they done to you?”

Ruadh looked up in surprise at Myra through darkly rimmed eyes. He did not speak, his lips sewn tightly shut and encrusted with blood.

Myra cut Ruadh’s bonds, and he motioned for her to give him the dagger. With little ceremony, Ruadh cut the cords over his lips, gritting his bloodstained teeth.

In a moment, the old ranger was chugging water that Myra offered him. “Myra…” he said finally, painfully forming each word. “I heard lots of movement in the town. What’s happening?”

“The army begins the march today…” Myra said. “We don’t have much time, Ruadh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Talon is leading the vanguard, he’s probably on the road by now. You are right, Ruadh. We can’t leave Talon alive to do whatever he wants. This is our last chance to slip away and find some way to stop him.”

Ruadh nodded. “And how can we do that?”

Myra revealed two pistols, handing one of them to Ruadh while she took up a bag of ammunition and started loading the other. “You’re a ranger, and I’m a forest bandit, us two can think of something.”

Ruadh smiled softly. “Myra, it’s been good travelling beside you. You would have made a fine ranger, that I’m sure.”

Myra look away, abashed. “Don’t go praising me yet. Are you well enough to go on from here?”

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Ruadh nodded. “It’ll take more than some little torture to put me out of commission.”

“Good, come on, this way.” With that, the two of them trudged through the woods as rain began to pour heavier down upon them. Myra had gained enough information to learn that the road leading out of Hargrave looped around a heavily forested hill. Two lone travellers on foot might have an easier time crossing over that hill and reaching the other side before a host of men on the road. With the hill in sight, Myra led the way, forcibly slowing her pace to allow Ruadh to catch up. She was eager to reach that hill as soon as possible. But Ruadh began lagging behind, still racked with pain.

She turned back to check on him, when suddenly, a large, feathery shape fell from the sky and landed between them. Myra fell back and cried out in shock as the feathered thing showed itself to be Wudu.

“Old Ranger man and sad woman!” cried Wudu. “So you two are alive!”

“Miss Wudu?” gasped Ruadh, “what are you doing here?”

“Erda sent me back to look for you. Lucky too. I found Erasmus and the Troll-slayer in a tight spot, but I saved them.”

“Erasmus and Pike,” said Ruadh. “Are they nearby too?”

“Why of course. The Troll-slayer asked me to go look for you last night. Says you escaped some days ago. Strange to find you here.”

“Escaped? How would he…”

Myra grabbed Ruadh’s hand and started pulling him along as she ran. “Myra? What’s…”

“There’s no time!” she shouted. “We have to go, now! Wudu, get away from this place!”

“Wait, what’s wrong?” cried out Wudu, but Myra didn’t listen, she hadn’t expected for Wudu to find them. It was too soon. She and Ruadh had to get to that hill.

She stopped suddenly. There, standing on a high ridge over them, was Pike. His sword was naked in his hand, and a cold glow was in his eyes. A wolfish smile gleamed.

“Myra,” he snarled. “Funny you should be here too.” He leapt down and landed in front of them. Myra drew her pistol and pulled the trigger, and heard only a wet click as the flint struck spoiled powder. She flung the pistol aside and turned, dragging Ruadh along. Pike hurled himself forward, sword flashing. Myra turned and drew her dagger, urging Ruadh to continue. But Pike only bowled her aside as he sped towards the ranger. Ruadh tripped and fell, stared in confused horror as Pike loomed over him with sword raised.

There was another flash and a sharp ring of steel on steel. The black sword was knocked aside and Pike staggered backwards. Wudu appeared off to the side, holding her hand up and catching the steel ring that flew through the air. She stood with the strange weapon poised and grinned. “So then, Troll-slayer, you did more than just pretend to be on their side, huh?”

Myra took the chance to rush to Ruadh and drag him away. Pike saw this and chased after them, but again the disc whistled, and Pike had to throw himself backwards to keep from being decapitated. Where the ring flew, Wudu was suddenly there to catch it, and quickly throw it again. Pike deflected the ring, sending it flying into the trees, caught again by a mass of grey feathers that landed lightly on a branch. The great wings opened, seemingly sprouting from Wudu’s back. The owl-feather cloak had more than one use, it seemed.

Pike eyed the Troll-woman coldly as he undid the grey cloak about his neck and tossed it aside, taking up his battle stance.

Wudu smiled. “I knew that we would end up crossing blades someday, Troll-slayer.”

“Don’t stand in my way,” growled Pike. “I didn’t spare your brother, do you think you won’t end up the same.”

Wudu shook her head. “What I think doesn’t matter. I swore vengeance on you. This is the fate I chose. What else is there but to meet it with open arms.”

With that, she threw the ring again, taking flight and flying over Pike’s head. Pike dodged, but not before the ring took a slice out of his ear. He tumbled and rolled back onto his feet. Wudu threw again, but this time, Pike stood his ground, catching it in his open hand, breaking the ring even as blood flowed from his fist. Wudu swooped over him, delivering a sharp kick to his face. Pike rolled backwards.

From where she stood, Wudu withdrew another, smaller ring. She threw it, but Pike charged forward suddenly, heedless as the ring lodged itself into his shoulder. He came on like a bolt of lightning, and before Wudu could leap out of the way, Pike was face to face with her, while his sword lanced through her chest and out her back, covering her feather cloak in blood.

Pike withdrew his blade, and Wudu collapsed to the ground. She struggled to breath as blood filled her throat.

“So much for vengeance,” Pike muttered.

But Wudu let forth a pained laugh. “Nothing is in vain, Troll-slayer. If this is what fate has decided for me, I will be… content…” With that, she said no more.

A few hours later, Talon stood over the body of the slain Troll-woman.

“Strange,” he muttered. “I wonder what a troll is doing out here.”

“Chief” said some random soldier, carrying a bundle of cloth in his hands. “We found this nearby!”

Talon took forth the thing, staring at the grey cloak in his hand. “How curious.” He curled up the cloak and tossed it to the man who as knelt before the troll-woman. “What do yo make of this.”

Erasmus looked at the dwarf cloak he was clutching in trembling hands. Through gritted teeth, he hissed; “Damn you… Pike!”