The day dawned, as it always did for the Thrappled Lemmings, with a slight hangover and an emptier purse. This time, though, the Lemmings' funds were lighter than usual. Someone had robbed them in the night, or perhaps while they were drinking and not paying attention. Either way, 2 Marks were missing. A further 2 Marks bought them food for a while and a visit to the healer for Drogo cost 1 Mark more. The Lemmings were feeling flush, so they did not worry too much about the missing money. They could find the culprits and give them a good thrashing later. Lysanthir took time out to pray to the gods of the Fey. He felt that lately the Thrappled Lemmings needed a bit more help than usual. Afterwards, he felt blessed, as though the communion had had a positive effect.
While Drogo was at the healer and Lysanthir was praying, the others headed to the market. Pickings were slim, but they managed to sell all their loot and buy some Tonic for the next time that Drogo got injured.
With everything that was going on and Orcs massing close to Fikaby, the choice of what to do next was easy for the Lemmings. They packed up their gear and headed off to the Orc camp that had sprung up near Fikaby. With any luck, they could scatter the Orcs and be back in time for last orders at the Tankard and Turtle.
They found the camp in the sparsely wooded, rocky hills to the north-west of the village. The Orcs had set up camp on a hill with good views across the landscape. It would be hard to get close to the main camp where the Orc leader was haranguing his minions with a voice like a drill sergeant.
The Thrappled Lemmings split into two groups. They would try a pincer movement to roll up the enemy force. All went well until Fulrad reached the edge of a wooded grove. Suddenly a previously unseen Orc sentry shouted the alarm.
"CHARGE!" yelled Sir Thiebault. He liked yelling "CHARGE!" It made him feel in charge.
Fulrad opened the engagement by shooting an Orc in the back. Well, he tried anyway, and realised that he had forgotten to restock his quiver. He only had two arrows left. Onesipe shot an Orc sentry, and the others advanced. The Orcs round the camp fire spotted Lysanthir and all charged him. Overwhelmed, he staggered back, bleeding. Drogo charged the Orc leader after Fulrad's second last arrow bounced off his armour. The leader drove Drogo back. Lysanthir retreated and bandaged his wounds.
Meanwhile, Wido shot one of the Orc archers by the fire and wounded it. The Orc leader stepped forward and cut Fulrad down without even breaking a sweat, only to fall himself as the curse on Fulrad's Harness of Vengeance took its toll. Lysanthir now stood along against three Orc hunters.
Wido shot and killed an archer. Sir Thiebault charged the camp but the Orc was made of tough stuff and all his blows did little more than stun it. The wounded Orc shot Sir Thiebault and wounded him. Beset by three Orcs, Lysanthir was slowly driven back. In a brief pause in the fight, he took the opportunity to flee.
"I knew these Thief's Boots would come in handy one day," he muttered as his legs carried him back to Fikaby and a restorative ale.
The Orcs that had been chasing him turned their attention to Sir Thiebault, whom Wido was racing to support. With that, the fight was soon over. Sir Thiebault and Wido slew the remaining Orcs in short order and the remaining Lemmings set about plundering the camp and checking their comrades in that order of importance. Drogo had just been knocked out, but Fulrad was seriously injured and would be out of the fight for a while.
As they searched, they realised that the Orc leader was a key member of the horde and that his death would hinder the Orcs efforts against the village.
The Lemmings returned to Fikaby in time for a hearty meal and some good ale. They did not speak to Lysanthir, but did learn from the innkeeper that a plague had broken out at Elstein Kloster.
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