Land of Darkness RPG

[Bêthberry]

"Whatimbo unsala. Kill the viper," spoke Darash in a voice firm with fury but calm with resolution. Zuromor was ahead of them all and swung his sword but the treacherous Aldor was as nimble in body as in morals. Yet her spirit sank as she saw what came up the path behind him. More of them! More, more, ever more. There was no end to evil in this northern land. And she was tired, tired beyond any knowing of this struggle. And this time there could be no resorting to disguise.

Quickly, Darash looked around at their weapons. She had given Lyshka the small knife the salivating orc had passed on to her as she feigned bloodlust during the last fight. Neither woman had a sword. Darash looked around for branch, sturdy bush or thorn with which to fashion some kind of defense. There were none. She shook her head in dismay, feeling discouragement rise in her throat like sour bile. At her side, she felt for her small dagger, the one Grash had exchanged when she had given him hers in ritual token of her allegiance. It gave her courage. If all else failed, it was sharp enough. She would use it upon herself and deny the orcs their filthy desire.

But Grash held back her hand, as if sensing her thoughts. He pointed around the narrow path, at the small stones and rocks and larger boulders they had kicked around to make a resting place. She understood at once. Calling to Lyshka, she ran with him to one of the larger boulders positioned to the side of the path. Pushing, shoving, grunting and rocking it, they succeeded in loosening it from its rooted spot in the earth. The path was narrow but well worn. The boulder, once pushed on its way, moved slowly at first but then tumbled with the speed of flooding water. Grash ran to another large boulder, Lyshka and Darash to two others. Three more followed the first to crash into the orc horde.

Yet her strength was limited; where her arms had been broken, she could feel the bones protest at being forced to push so hard against the rocks. She could not risk breaking them again. She moved back, signalling to her two comrades that she was moving to a second strategy. Let others with healthier arms keep at the boulders.

Instead, she sought out the smaller stones and rocks and quickly collected them into a pile, calling on the weaker ones to gather them, those still ill and wounded from the last assault. They could not fight but they could help gather their last, natural weapons. Then she moved off, filling her pouch, now emptied of food, with stones. She had a good eye and, calming herself, began to choose her targets. The orcs' skulls were thick, but the ground was covered with stones.