The Lone Squad / Gunnery School of Nuln / Lure of Fortune verses B'trark Gorehorns / Beastmen Raiders with Mark of Onogal / Scion of Chaos
Wyrdstone Hunt
Rain. Senior Gunnery Officer Benedict von Neale hated the rain. He hated the mud that clogged his boots. He hated the water that soaked through his clothing. He hated the damp that was getting into his blackpowder. He looked around at his squad and made a mental note that he needed to get his hands on some raincoats for his men. To make matters worse they had just heard a horn blast that could mean nothing other than beastmen in the vicinity. “They must have also heard about the treasures to be found in this area,” he thought to himself grimly and ordered his men to split up to increase their chances of finding treasures and to set up possible opportunities for cross fire.
Bragor grinned as the shaman of his new tribe, Markhor, held up a treasure. “So the Cathayan villagers did actually tell the truth before they died and the battle against the liche and his undead minions where Guarin died had not been in vain.” he thought. After his chieftain died, Albrath had briefly taken over the tribe. Bragor was by far the better leader though and the centigor chose not to contest the leadership when confronted and instead stood down. Bragor was eager now to build his tribe for his own glory in the eyes of Onogal. He looked out through the pouring rain at the acid pools and forest and wondered what further riches could be found.
Benedict looked with concern at the acid pool he was walking past. There were a lot of the swampy pools in this area and all of them were slowly expanding as more and more water from the rain flowed into them. “Tell the men to seek high ground quickly,” he said to Benson, the squad's instructor. “I doubt that we'll find any treasure due to the speed at which these acid pools are growing.”
The beastmen also continued to move forward into a dense patch of forest. Bragor growled that the dead forest still caused some of his warriors, including Albrath, to baulk. “Another reason I am now the chieftain,” he smiled. “No fool who quavered at trees blowing in the wind deserved leadership of a tribe.” Just then three humans came into view around a clump of trees. His warhounds howled and charged with eager anticipation of the taste of warm blood. The mud must have slowed down the warhounds as the humans were ready for their assult and took one out of action and stunned the other. The third human fired his two pistols but both shots missed their mark and the warrior then turned and fled. Bragor yelled out an order and Markhor and two gors charged into the humans that had stayed to dispatch the stunned warhound.
The fighting was fierce but the weak humans were no match for the beastmen. Arkar, one of the gors, caved in the head of one human with his mace. Markhor stunned the other human. Bragor, Albrath and the other beastmen moved closer to the action to revel in the killing but in doing so they also entered into the sights of a marksmen with a handgun that had taken up position in a nearby building. Bragor was knocked down from the impact before he heard the gunshot. Markhor feverishly recited a spell in an archaic and terrible tongue and Onogal must have been pleased with the action because the dark god afflicted the stunned human with his Neiglish Rot before the warhound recovered and took the poor, diseased human out of action.
Benedict looked across the acid lake to the building on the other side where one of his marksmen was positioned. Reuben, the senior student in the squad, was running back to seek shelter in the building. A warhound and a beastman were in pursuit and gaining ground. He lined up the beastmen in the sights of his handgun and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Benedict swore. The blackpowder was wet and failed to ignite. As he quickly emptied the chamber of his gun the warriors across the acid disappeared behind a small clump of trees. He had lost his chance. There was a scream and Benedict shook his head at the hopelessness of the situation. Two of his men (perhaps only one now) were trapped on the other side of the lake and there was no way that he and the other men with him could reach them to help.
Arkar raced by the warhound that had just taken another human out of action and charged up the ladder into the marksman who was obviously having trouble with his handgun. He was close to frenzy after his previous kill and was keen to shed more blood. The human didn't stand a chance and was taken out of action and thrown off the small building.
That was the last straw for Benedict. They were safe for now due to the acid that separated them from the foul beastmen but the storm was easing and the acid would all too quickly recede. Benedict knew that beastmen were forever hungry to spill blood and did not want to stick around to continue the confrontation. He ordered his men to return to the watering hole where they had left the rest of the caravan with the merchants and the men that were still recovering from the ogre attack.
The Lone Squad found 2 treasures.
The B'trark Gorehorns found 5 treasures.
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