Welcome to the Fall

Dagryg could hardly see the three rapidly-disappearing riders through the dying embers of his rage. He kicked the manticore's corpse with a curse and sent it skidding across the still-writhing landscape of animated brush that clung to everything.

Furious, the ogre chieftain stomped back to the still-open gates. Malok and Nagla hurried back inside as he approached. The orcs needed no prompting from the two ogres to begin their own withdrawal -- indeed, there was scarcely an orc to be seen as he slammed and barred the gate.

No, that was not quite true. Dagryg saw a single, young orc crouched by the mangled body of the human who'd managed to scale the wall. As his rage faded, the ogre chief simply glared at the corpse. He raised his meaty foot to stomp angrily at it, but stopped, astounded, as the orc held up his hand.

"Wait," the runty creature said in a neutral, almost bored voice. Dagryg stood there stupidly for a moment, before slowly lowering his foot. He stared at the orc and tried to remember his name. Zukath? Zarkith? Something like that. Finally, he managed to growl, "What? What is it?"

The orc looked up at him, his expression grim. "This was the one," he said, pointing at the corpse. "The one we weren't supposed to kill."

Dagryg chewed his lip, looking down at the body. Humans looked so much alike, it was hard to tell, but ... yes, Rashemi was what that kind was called. The greatsword was also a feature mentioned by Daumar. Suddenly, the ogre chief's waning rage was replaced by a pang of alarm.

"Dead?" he grunted.

The orc nodded. He fished through the human's pockets and pouches for a moment as if it was his right. Malok and Nagla looked on, scowling, but said nothing for the moment despite the fact that the kill was clearly theirs. Something about the orc's demeanor gave them pause, just as it had Dagryg. After pulling out a few items of interest and laying them to one side, the orc withdrew a tightly-wrapped bundle. He turned it over in his hands and barely looked up at Dagryg before unwrapping it and revealing a glittering mass of glass shards.

Dagryg, frowning, leaned close to look at the bundle. His inspection was interrupted by a sudden flash and he stared, dumbfounded, at the scowling face of Daumar.

The red-haired ranger looked wilder than ever, his green eyes glowing even in the dawn light. He looked down at the warrior's corpse, and at the bundle in the orc's hands, and snarled. His face, when he turned it to Dagryg, looked startlingly inhuman and the ogre chief took a surprised step backward.

"You miserable, incompetent morons ..." the ranger was practically choking with rage. He moved toward the orc, reaching out to snatch away the bundle.

A sudden wind whipped through the courtyard and all present stared warily as the gust swept the glass shards up, bearing them away to the east.

Daumar turned on Dagryg, then, and his longsword sprang into his hand. "You have outlived your usefulness, ogre," he hissed, stepping toward the chief, whose surprise and sudden doubt left him open. As the ranger raised his blade to strike, however, there was a ringing clash and it was knocked away. He stared up, suddenly on guard, at the imposing blue-skinned figure of Gywahier the frost giantess and the huge waraxe she was brandishing.

Her icy blue eyes met his glare with an impassive calm. In a low voice tinged with menace, she growled, "I think it is you who has outlived his usefulness here, devil." She stepped down the slope, her massive, fur-lined boot coming almost to the ranger's chest. "You and your Red Woman can take your games back to Zhentil Keep."

Daumar stood stone-still, looking up at the giantess for a long moment, before his face twisted into a nasty grin. "Very well," he said, relaxing his posture. He looked back at Dagryg with contempt. "I'm sure she'll take good care of you, mighty one."

The ogre sniffed. "I always liked blue more den red, anyways," he said, and he grinned a bit himself at the look of fury that the ranger failed to mask.

Snatching up his fallen sword, Daumar looked with hatred at the pair and then nodded down at the fallen warrior.

"They'll be back to punish you for this," he predicted. "You'll find out then just how much I've carried you." Without waiting for a response, he simply disappeared, leaving only reddish smoke and a smell of brimstone.

Gywahier looked down at the body and nodded. "He's right, you know," she said quietly. "This one was important, somehow. They won't take his death lightly. And they'll still be wanting that cup." She looked up at Dagryg. "We should be ready for them."

A small sound drew the attention of both giants to the young orc, still kneeling beside the body. He looked up at them with a calm expression.

"I have a plan ..."