Seamus ran like he had never had before, his legs burning with effort as his lungs wheezed in the freezing air. Branches and twigs whipped against his armor and body, sending stinging pain across his skin.
“Hurry! Hurry!” Lowe shouted, the gnome gripping onto Seamus’ neck for dear life. Both men were currently in the forest, running away from the vault from which they had emerged. Nighttime was already here, with only the faint traces of the sunset in the sky. The chill of dark motivated Seamus, as his body still emanated with heat from the blast that psychopath Miles had ignited. Seamus could still feel how his shoulder stung with pain, and the pauldron that had defended it was long gone. He wasn’t sure if it was blood that was running down his pants. Or perhaps it was piss that had excavated from his bladder when he had watched that brute nearly club him to death right before Lilith had brutalized the orc.
‘Lilith…’
Seamus turned to find the berserker. She was still running alongside them, her hand holding her bleeding arm as she sprinted. Miles was still nowhere to be seen, possibly somewhere behind the group. Seamus squinted through the forest ahead, the darkness nearly absolute if it wasn’t for the two moons in the night sky.
Still, despite the light from the sister moons, Seamus hadn’t spotted that protruding root on the ground. The young man felt his boot caught by the root, his body flying a good couple of feet before landing on the cold, hard, uneven ground.
“Shit!” Seamus cursed, gritting his teeth in pain as he tried to get up, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he looked for the fallen gnome. Lowe was thankfully fine as the gnome slowly stood, a soft groan coming from him.
“Seamus? What happened?”
“I tripped. Damn root,” Seamus muttered, wiping his mouth as another piece of his armor fell off, this one being his other pauldron. He could see how bloody the piece of steel was, accompanied by a visible scar courtesy of that asshole with the ax.
“You think we lost them?” Seamus panted out, his breaths coming out in clouds of steam in the frosty night air.
“Gods no…” Lowe shook his head, the gnome watching as the berserker ran up to the two men, her visible breath trailing behind her as she reached Seamus’ side.
“I’m fine,” Seamus breathed out. He signed to the berserker as he slowly stood up, his free hand moving to take off his helmet. The cold air felt like bliss against his clammy skin and messy hair, making the young man sigh in relief. Seamus felt his body freeze as the sounds of boots over snow reached him. He turned back, expecting to see a group of orcs barreling their way. Instead, it was Miles, half of his mask blackened with soot and dirt. The mercenary reached the group, panting hard as he doubled over. Seamus could see how the man’s short sword dripped with oily blood, along with the ax he had requisitioned from Lilith.
“I think I stalled them for a little longer, but we must get moving now. Get to the port before they do,” Miles panted heavily, his words spaced out between breaths. He stood up straight, his hand brushing his hood back to expose his sweat-dampened black hair. Seamus could see that it wasn’t just soot that stained the man’s mask but specks of dark blood.
“The port?” Lowe asked, his arm still clutching onto the cat statue he had brought with him.
“The southern one. That’s where our ship is,” Seamus explained, catching his breath as he unstrapped some armor on his thigh and arms.
“What about the fire that asshole caused back there?!” Lowe shouted in anger, pointing at Miles. “You lit up a vern tree with that explosion you caused back there! Caved in half the vault and nearly killed us!”
“I’ll admit. I severely underestimated how much oil those barrels were holding,” Miles managed, catching his breath. “But this island is already a lost cause. We need to get the hel off of it.”
“What about James and the others?” Seamus panted as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “And the prisoners?”
“The hel do you want from me?” Miles asked, his voice stressed and as exhausted as Seamus’ own. Everyone was tired, and the cold air did not help in the way they would have thought. “Let’s just get out of here first? We can worry about everything else later—” Miles suddenly tensed up, his head swiveling. “Shit!” he cursed, slowly stepping back.
Seamus turned to see what he was looking at, his heart dropping as he saw the silhouettes of orcs and goblins in the distance lit up by torchlight.
‘No, not torchlight.’
His eyes widened as he noticed how the light source spread throughout the trees, embers and ash floating to the night sky.
“Is that fire?!” Seamus exclaimed before hearing Lowe curse behind him,
“Shit! The fire from the vault is spreading!”
“We need to go now!” Miles shouted, and the rest of the group followed his example. Seamus carried Lowe on his back while Lilith stuck close to the two men, running along with them as they sprinted away from the orcs and the oncoming forest fire.
----------------------------------------
James could see how the flames spread throughout the encampment, the embers of the spreading fire rising to the dark, cold sky. He could also see how the flames licked at the trees and shrubbery around the edges of the camp. It seemed like Bjorn’s worries weren’t for naught. The forest was burning, the trees around the encampment blazing with hellish flames.
‘Let’s just hope the fire doesn’t get too far.’
James turned his focus to the port ahead, which was now visible from the distance.
“There it is,” Bjorn muttered, the dwarf hiding behind the same tent as James.
“Which one is yours?” Haggard asked in a low voice, peeking from his own hiding spot across the dirt path.
“The longship that’s closest to the shore,” James responded, his eyes focusing on the black ship that floated placidly in the sea. He could see how the people and orcs on the ship moved around, possibly getting the ship ready for the sea. “How long has it been since we’ve left?” James asked Bjorn, who shrugged.
“Not really the best with numbers, but I reckon it’s been a little over forty minutes.”
“Good. That means we’re not too late.” James took one more peek at any nearby orcs before he stepped out, heading his way to the ship ahead.
“Do you think Seamus got his way to Frostbite?” Haggard asked from behind the young man.
“I don’t doubt it. He already knows that we were all supposed to retreat to the port,” James answered.
“What if he ran into any orcs on the way there?” Haggard followed up.
James turned back to the drifter. “Seamus can take care of himself and has Miles with him. I saw them both heading in the same direction.”
“Seamus? You mean the coward?” Bjorn asked, the dwarf catching up with James.
“He’s not a coward. At least not always,” James muttered. “He can fend for himself. I know it.”
“Not to discredit your friend, but I’ve seen the kid’s eyes when we came across that burning town. He’s not fit for this kind of thing, especially since he couldn’t fight worth a damn back in that clearing,” the dwarf pointed out.
James stopped his feet, rubbing his eyes as he sighed in frustration. “Do you remember back when Dahlia saved your asses back on that island? I can recall you calling that shaman a burden, did you not? Seamus, my ‘coward’ of a friend, has saved my life and done much more fighting than I have in a week.” James stared down at a confused Bjorn, who stayed silent. “Don’t underestimate my friends. They’re more capable than they look.” With that, James continued his walk, feeling how exhausted his body felt as he dragged his feet against the dirt. The two men behind him were dead quiet, possibly exhausted as well.
‘It’s been a long day.’
James looked at the ship ahead, noticing how one man on board was pointing over at James and his party. It was Edmund, James realized, the man’s recognizable sword swaying as he waved over at the young man. James couldn’t help but smile, raising his left hand to wave back. He realized his shield was still strapped to his forearm, causing the young man to almost chuckle at the dumb move.
His smile faded as quickly as it had come when he felt something impact with the shield. James’ eyes widened as he felt another impact against the shield, this one snapping him out of his thoughts. The young man watched as what looked like toothpicks fell from his shield’s surface.
“Archers!” Bjorn shouted, the words clueing James in what was happening.
‘Ambush!’ Faust yelled.
James’ fight-or-flight response kicked in suddenly. He chose flight.
“Take cover!” James shouted, his eyes focusing on a vern tree nearby. He sprinted to the tree, feeling small impacts on his armored back as he did so. From his peripheral, James could see how Bjorn and Haggard did as told, taking cover behind barrels and tents. Upon reaching his own cover, he felt something prick at his shoulder, his eyes wandering to the toothpick-like arrows stuck on his leather armor. James grabbed the strange projectile, pulling it out with ease.
“What kind of arrows are these?” James asked aloud before receiving his response in the form of Haggard’s shouting.
“Goblin archers! You have to be fucking joking!”
James took a peek out of his cover, focusing on where the arrows were coming from. He found their source, a group of small goblins wearing strange armor. He could see how they carried shoddy short bows and a quiver full of their equally crude arrows at their hips. James noticed the group of orcs catching up to them.
“Shit! Shit!” James cursed, going back into cover as he tried to think up a plan, any plan, that could get them out of this. He searched through his satchel and belt, looking for anything that could help. His fingers brushed against a smooth stone, an idea clicking in his mind. “Bjorn! Haggard!” James yelled out, turning over to the two men taking cover. “I’m going to distract them. I need you two to rush when I do so!”
“What are you going to do?” Haggard asked, hammer already in hand.
“Just rush!” James shouted, his hand bringing the small rune out of his satchel, which Edmund had given him.
After making sure no arrows were coming his way, James wasted no more time, stepping out with his hand raised.
“Night Spray!” he shouted, his voice gaining an ethereal tone as the rune fired its many projectiles. James watched as hundreds of tiny purple fireflies rushed towards the goblins ahead, most of them hitting their marks. The goblins screamed and shouted as they fumbled around, a couple of them even on fire. Haggard and Bjorn seemed to understand their queue as both men rushed out of their hiding spots, weapons drawn. James dropped the hot stone right after the spell had finished, purple smoke emanating from the dying rune. James watched as the two men attacked the goblins, who stood no chance against them both. The orcs who were just arriving, on the other hand, stood a chance.
As Haggard and Bjorn held off the green-skinned brutes, James turned to the longship nearby, shouting out to the stunned Edmund and crew. “Get that ship sailing now! We need to get the hell out of here!”
He turned back to the fight at hand, hoping to god that they had heard him. James pulled his short sword from its cloth sheath, his fingers clenched tightly to the hilt. He took a deep breath and charged into the fray, hoping to buy the longship and its crew for some time.
----------------------------------------
Seamus felt his stomach lurching, his wheezing lungs taking in the burning cold air as he ran through the woods. He could hear the orcs and goblins shouting out at him from a distance, their threats and screams only motivating poor Seamus to run even faster.
“How… How much farther?!” Seamus shouted back at Lowe, who was currently screaming at the young man to go faster.
“Judging from the posts we’ve passed, we must be nearing Aldren! To get to the port, you must—”
Lowe was cut off by the sound of something whizzing past Seamus’ ear. The sudden surprise made him stumble, slowing his run as he regained his balance.
“The hel was–?!” Seamus was interrupted by another sound of something speeding past his ear, the projectile hitting the tree next to him.
“Arrows!” Lowe shouted, his foot kicking Seamus at his armor. “Those goblins have bows! Run!” Seamus took the gnome’s advice, already forcing his feet to move before another of the projectiles whizzed past him, followed by another that struck its mark.
“Agh!” Seamus exclaimed, feeling how something sharp pierced his exposed leg. The sudden impact caused the man to stumble, making him lose his balance. Seamus fell to the cold forest ground once more, Lowe flying off into the nearby bushes. He attempted to get up, jolts of pain going through his thigh as he got onto his knees. After fighting through the agony, he noticed small armored figures running up to Seamus, two of them with spears and one with a short bow.
‘More goblins. Shit.’
Seamus mentally cursed his luck, doing his best to crawl away as the goblins got closer, their unrecognizable chatter sounding excited.
Before he knew it, however, another figure emerged from the dark forest, a glinting ax in her hand. Lilith wasted no time on the closest goblin, her foot kicking in its shaped helmet, sending the creature away as she turned to the next one. The goblin tried a jab at Lilith but missed horribly; the berserker took the chance to stomp on its spear’s shaft, her ax flying at the goblin’s exposed head. The ax head buried itself in the little creature’s skull, its body instantly going limp.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Watch out!” Seamus exclaimed, his hand gesturing at the archer behind Lilith. Lilith avoided getting struck by an arrow, her ax coming down at the goblin in front of her. Blood sprayed from the creature’s torn neck, the visceral image forever printed in Seamus’ memories. As Lilith kicked the little creature’s body away, Seamus went to attend to his leg. The young man gritted his teeth as he looked for the arrow, his hand finding the crude wooden shaft sticking out of his outer thigh. With effort, Seamus broke the shaft, leaving the arrow tip in as pulling it out would cause even more bleeding.
Seamus winced in pain as he tried to get up on his feet, moving to try to look for Lowe. The surrounding forest was lit by the growing fire in the distance, the heat of which was growing closer with the shouts of orcs.
“Lowe?” He called out before spotting the gnome rubbing his head, cat statue at hand.
“I’m fine,” Lowe called back, groaning before he stood up.
“Oh, thank the gods. We gotta keep moving,” Seamus panted out. He winced as he made his way to Lowe.
“You’re hurt,” the gnome noticed.
“I’m fine. Just get on my back, and let’s keep moving.” Seamus dismissed Lowe’s worries quickly. He wanted to keep moving.
As Seamus turned around, letting the gnome get on his back, he noticed Lilith resting in the distance. Clouds of steam rose out of her nostrils and mouth, her chest rapidly moving as she caught her breath. Seamus suddenly noticed the hulking orc coming up behind her, an ax raised above his head. A sudden fear plagued his body as he tried to shout.
“Lilith!” However, the berserker was too late as the orc struck down his ax. Fortunately, he missed his initial swing, causing Lilith to roll over to avoid any more attacks. The orc roared angrily as he swung his free arm, finally connecting a hit. His strike sent Lilith flying into the nearby bushes, where she disappeared.
“No!” Seamus was already moving to help before he witnessed a masked man suddenly jump on the orc’s back. The man’s strange sword pierced into the brute’s shoulder, drawing a pained roar. The attacker was none other than Miles, his grinning mask speckled with dark blood. He soon backed off from the injured brute, visibly panting as he held his stained sword. He dodged an attack from the orc, his short sword dancing around the greenish brute’s arm as he yelled out to the rest of the group.
“Run! I’ll hold him off!”
Seamus took the ex-follower’s advice, his feet forcing himself to move even further away from the scene. Lowe was already on his back, his small foot kicking at Seamus’ side as if he were a horse.
“Run, Seamus!”
With that in mind, Seamus Halvorson did what he did best. He ran with all the strength he could muster.
----------------------------------------
“Die!” The orc screamed out as it swung its club at James, the young man reacting by raising his round shield. The club struck his shield with a resounding Bang! The force of which made his left arm go numb. Still, the shield resisted the impact, taking the blow head-on without a single splinter. James aimed his sword at the brute’s exposed flank, moving in for a strike. Unfortunately, James was off by a mile, his blade only glancing off the orc’s shoddy armor.
‘Shit!’
James gritted his teeth as he braced for the orc’s kick. It didn’t come, however, as Haggard stepped in to save James. The man’s hammer caved in the orc’s half helm, the sound of bone crushing forever imprinted in James’ memories. Haggard kicked away the orc, sweat dripping down the man’s forehead.
“Stay back! You’re only getting in the way!” Haggard shouted as he moved in on another nearby orc, his hammer swinging at its next target.
James took Haggard’s advice, as his lungs were already killing him from the inside. He took a few steps back, catching his breath as he watched the battle in front of him. Bjorn and Haggard were cutting through and holding off the group of orcs, who were mostly unarmored. James watched with fascination, impressed at how fierce both were in a fight, especially Bjorn. The dwarf had only a couple of castings left, yet he fought without their help. Bjorn had killed two of the orcs so far, at least from what James saw during the heat of the fight. Haggard had taken out three, and one of them was achieved with the help of James.
‘I really need to practice,’ James tiredly reiterated to himself. His breathing slowly went back to normal as he took off his steel helm, letting his head cool off as he watched the fight in front of him.
‘I think it might be time to retreat,’ Faust pointed out, just as more of the orcs arrived to back up their friends.
“Agreed,” James muttered aloud, turning back to the longship. “Bjorn! Haggard! It’s time to go, now!” He turned back to the men, watching as they slowly backed up, still clashing with the orcs as they fought. “Shit…” James muttered, already moving to put his steel helmet back on. Before he could, however, something caught his attention, something that moved in quickly in his peripheral vision.
‘James!’
The young man had no time to react as he was thrown back onto the dirt ground, dust kicking up everywhere. He had no idea what had happened, only that something had struck his left arm and shield. James blinked as he looked up at his attacker, his eyes widening.
This orc was much bigger than the others before him, making James swear he was looking at a giant. He was a good three meters tall, with a large cloak covering half of his body and exposing the rest of his torso and left shoulder. A blood-red skull was painted over his face, and an accompanying skeletal arm was painted over his left. He looked down at James with a look of disgust as if he was glancing down at a fly. Before James could do or say anything, Haggard’s hammer came swinging at the orc, who blocked it with his armored brace. The orc gritted his teeth as he withstood the attack.
“You must be the one who started this fire,” the orc finally spoke, grunting as he pushed back the hammer.
“Damn right,” Haggard responded before flashing a grin at the orc. “And I’ll gladly do it again,” he added with noticeable smugness. The orc roared with anger, his armored fist coming at Haggard with frightening speed. Haggard somehow dodged the attack, his hammer aimed at the giant.
“Power Strike!” Haggard shouted, his hammer quickly swinging at the orc’s exposed flank. However, the strike didn’t hit its mark as the orc attempted a dodge. The hammer ended up glancing off the orc’s dark armor, which looked to be of better quality compared to the average orc’s protection.
“James. Get to the ship,” Haggard muttered to the young man, who had watched the encounter from the ground. James blinked, finally snapping out of his stupor.
“Got it,” James quickly moved to stand up, his eyes turning to Bjorn, who was slowly backing up to the two men. James noticed the other orcs, who were standing back from the trio. “Is this who I think it is?” James asked in a low voice, his feet slowly moving back as he looked at Haggard. The older man nodded, his eyes focused on the orc, who now James realized was Blood-Irk.
The giant looked down at James and his party, huffing as he spoke out. “Leave the arsonist and the dwarf to me.” He looked at his orcs, who nodded almost immediately.
“What about the other human?” One of them asked cautiously.
Blood-Irk snorted, waving his hand. “The weakling? Kill him for all I care. He is no challenge for me.” James felt his body tense up at that, his eyes widening as he saw the hungry look the orcs gave him. James was already running as one orc tried to rush at him. Bjorn tried to intervene but was interrupted by Blood-Irk, who swung down at the dwarf with a fist.
“Your fight is with me!” The orc shouted, his attack sending Bjorn flying despite the dwarf’s shield.
James realized then that he was on his own, his feet forcing himself to move as he tried to get away from the tirade of orcs who went after him. However, before he could turn around to make a full sprint, one orc managed to catch up, his ax swinging at James at full speed. James instinctively raised his shield, feeling how the ax struck against the shield’s wood. Surprisingly enough, the axe didn’t break through the wood, nor even splinter it. Still, the force behind it was enough to make James recoil from the attack, making himself trip while at it.
James fell back onto the dirt, groaning as he watched the orc coming for another attack. James was already raising his shield in defense, which wasn’t needed at all. The orc was interrupted by another one of his brethren, who tackled the brute onto the dirt ground. James blinked at the sight, watching as the orc wailed on his attacker.
“Dog won’t let you hurt human! Argh!” The orc, who James realized was Dog, bashed at the brute’s skull, either killing or maiming him. James was about to say something to Dog when a hand reached out to him, beckoning the young man to grab it. James accepted it with gratitude, looking up to see Edmund.
“We’re here to help,” Edmund panted, obviously out of breath. His eyes darted to James’ right, his sword rising to strike before someone else stepped in, kicking away the brute James hadn’t seen coming. He looked at the one who had stepped in to help, a familiar orc who was another of Silas’ companions.
“Yeah, yeah, nice reunion. Are we going to bash in skulls or what?” The friendly orc asked, holding his spear with proficiency.
“No one’s stopping you, Fero,” Edmund responded, gesturing towards the other orcs, who were approaching fast. Fero grinned at the sight of the oncoming orcs, raising his weapon in challenge.
“Dog, sic them!” He shouted, the other orc responding to his words with a primal yell. Dog did as told, charging at the attacking orcs without a second thought. Fero soon joined, moving to fight alongside Dog.
“Watch out!” Edmund exclaimed, pushing James aside as a shorter orc came in, swinging his club wildly. The young mercenary avoided the wild attacks before his broadsword slashed at the orc’s arm, forcing the brute back. James watched as another orc joined in, this one holding an ax. James stepped in to help, swinging his sword wildly at the bastard in front of him. The orc didn’t seem to expect the unpredictable attacks, his body moving to dodge them as he tried to evade James. The brute soon found an opportunity in James’ swings, his ax coming down on the young man.
‘Fuck!’
James felt his body forcefully dodge backward, his foot slipping as he barely kept his hand. Unfortunately, he had fallen on his ass once more. The orc took the chance, swinging his ax down at James. The young man wasted no time rolling over to avoid the attack. Once the ax hit the dirt ground, James used the opportunity to swing his sword down at the orc’s wrist. The blade struck the green flesh with a sickening sound, along with the screams of the orc. James held back bile as he forcefully pulled his blade out, moving to swing his sword down on the orc’s head next.
Unfortunately for James, he would not be able to do so. James had his sword high in the sky when he had felt it. It was something he hadn’t felt in days, a feeling that had terrorized his nightmares, one that he hoped he would never feel again. It was the familiar and horrible feeling of cold, biting steel entering his body. The world felt as if it had stopped. James’ eyes widened as he looked down at his abdomen, seeing how the orc stabbed him with a dagger. He dropped his sword, his body frozen as he felt the brute twist the blade inside of his flesh.
The world went blank for James as he looked down at the orc, a cold hatred filling his body as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Saying nothing, James grabbed at the orc’s head, his grip strong enough to break bricks.
It all went white as James felt his mind clash with the orc. The young man gritted his teeth as he focused his will, feeling how a fever quickly formed around his eyes, his body suddenly exploding in heat. He felt the orc’s own energy rush into his body, the brute’s mental will weak enough for the man to overtake it with ease. The white was suddenly replaced by an image of orcs and ships, the open ocean, the stew from that morning, and the fight with James. The feedback of information proved too much for the young man who let go of the orc’s skull.
He gasped for a breath as he was thrust back into reality, his eyes blinking as he looked down at the orc who had stabbed him. The brute had two hand-shaped burns on his skin, his eyes fearfully looking at James as he hurried away. James winced as he slowly stood up, his hand picking up his fallen sword. He noticed the dagger still in his body, which prompted his free hand to grab at the dagger in his abdomen. With effort, he pulled it out, a blinding pain nearly making him go down on his knees again.
“Probably not the best idea,” James muttered before realizing there was no sound of battle, as his ears only picked up the crackling of the camp’s fire. He turned to where the battle was, realizing that everyone had stopped.
They were all looking at him, orcs and men, all with mixed emotions on their faces.
“Draugr! He’s a Draugr!” The orc from before yelled out, pointing at his burn marks. James could hear the muttering from the other orcs, who all backed away from him.
“His eyes… they look cursed!”
“Are those beholder eyes?”
“I can see his skull! He is a revenant!”
“No, he’s the incarnation of Dremor himself!”
The orcs all seemed afraid, which confused James until he realized how his eyes burned. He noticed Haggard’s surprised look, along with Blood-Irk’s dumbfounded face. It was all interrupted when the orc leader pointed a finger at James.
“Bring me his head!” The chieftain shouted, despite the other orcs’ clear hesitation of even going near James.
James blinked, his feet slowly moving back to the ship. “Everyone… We should get going now!”
“Agreed!” Edmund shouted back, already taking the chance to back away. This seemed to get everyone moving, including Dog and Fero, who hurried to back away from the orcs. Blood-Irk scowled, moving in to take on James himself.
Bjorn interrupted, bashing the orc with a shield. “Get to safety! Haggard and I can hold them off!”
The rest of the group took it as a go-ahead, already moving to get to the longship. They all hurried to the deck bridge ahead, ignoring the sounds of fighting as they ran.
“I can’t believe you’re a fucking Draugr!” Fero shouted out to James, who was already exerting his injured body.
“Shut up and keep running!” James shouted back. Edmund was the first to reach the deck bridge, followed by Dog, Fero, and finally James. Just as James was about to step onto the deck bridge, however, he took a glance back at the scene behind him. He witnessed a horrifying sight as he watched Bjorn take on a full hit from Blood-Irk, the orc’s fist crushing in Bjorn’s breastplate.
“No!” James shouted out, his feet forcing him to run back to the scene.
“James, wait! The ship is already moving. You have to get on now!” Edmund shouted out.
“Forget me! Go to the southern port, where Frostbite is! I’ll be there!” James ordered.
“But–”
“Just go!” James yelled before heading his way to the two men. Haggard was already faltering from his attacks, his body clearly strained and exhausted.
“Keep that asshole at bay!” James shouted, making his way to Bjorn despite his own wound sending stabs of pain throughout his abdomen.
Once he reached the fallen dwarf, James propped him up, his eyes examining the damage. Bjorn’s chest was caved in, blood running down the dwarf’s beard.
“James,” Bjorn coughed out, gritting his teeth as he spoke, “Golden flask… Now.”
James wasted no time searching through the dwarf’s satchel and belt, pushing past the other two flasks he carried. He soon found it, a shiny flask at the bottom of the satchel. James grabbed it, opening it quickly before he poured the contents down the dwarf’s open lips. He watched as the pink, glistening liquid poured out of the flask, Bjorn drinking up the stuff like a man dying of thirst. James watched as the dwarf’s chest slowly reshaped itself back to normal, his eyes widening as he breathed in normally.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Bjorn muttered, grabbing the flask from James.
“What is this stuff?” James asked as he picked Bjorn up.
“Advanced… healing potion,” the dwarf managed out, almost as if out of breath.
“James! Let’s go!” Haggard shouted out, catching James’ attention. The man was currently fighting with Blood-Irk, the other orcs also moving in to attack.
“Third satchel… Left…” Bjorn spoke out, taking in breaths as James held him up. James raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it as he searched through the dwarf’s belt. He pulled out a small gray ball the size of a marble.
“What is–?”
“Pinch the fuse and throw,” Bjorn interrupted. James did as told, his fingers pinching the top of the ball before throwing the object at Blood-Irk.
“Wait, is this a bomb?!” James suddenly realized, looking back at Bjorn. Before he could get an answer, James watched as the ball exploded into smoke, clouding the entire area.
Coughing, James squinted through the smoke, leading himself and Bjorn out of the smoke cloud. He watched as Haggard emerged as well, coughing violently into his sleeve.
“What… What the hell was that?”
“Smoke bomb…” Bjorn explained in a breath.
“How come you never told us about it?”
“Didn’t… Think it would work… Never used it…” the dwarf breathed out.
“Haggard, I need you to carry Bjorn,” James coughed out, wincing as he grabbed at his abdomen. Haggard groaned but didn’t waste any time as he moved to pick up the injured dwarf, who grumbled inaudibly as he carried him.
James could hear the orcs in the smoke yelling and shouting, clearly still lost inside the gray cloud. He turned back to where the longship was originally, seeing that the vessel was already sea-bound.
‘Time to get moving.’
“Let’s go!” James shouted to the duo, forcing his feet to move. “We have to get to the southern port now! We don’t have time left.” With James leading the way, the trio started their run toward the forest, which was illuminated by fire that had spread from the encampment.
‘Shit. I guess the fire’s moving fast,’ James realized grimly.
‘There still seems to be a good portion of it that’s not in flames. You just need to be quick enough, and you can make it,’ Faust pointed out.
“Let’s just hope that we are quick enough. I’m not ready to die. Not here. Not now.”