In the following days, chaos has erupted throughout the camp.  The Red Handed and their allies dispersed themselves throughout the camp, then without warning began to butcher as many of your orcs as they could.


Trapped by a cliff behind you and the bulk of the late Grolik's forces ahead of you, the only viable cover is the rocks and wagons you hide behind.  They have a pretty good grip on the main camp area.  Once they finish fighting the rest of the camp, they will surely overwhelm you at any moment.


Arrow after arrow thuds into the wagon.  You fire an arrow back under one of the wheels, unsure of where the hell it landed.  In front of you the tents burn and the sounds of fighting ring throughout.  You didn't know there were so damn many of them until last night. 


The minor nicks, scratches, and bruises you've received from fighting your way out pulsate through your body.  Galik sits next to you, nursing a grievous injury in his side.


As you, Galik, and the rest of the orcs fought your way through, some orc chucked a javelin into Galik's side.  It went through pretty deeply and you are surprised that he is still alive, although he won't be if you do not get him treatment soon.  Even then his chances are probably slim.


You witnessed Hidius walking out of his tent to see the commotion, and immediately was stabbed in the chest before you could help.  Silak fought valiantly to defend his dying chief, but was ultimately overwhelmed.


Gro'tesk might be dead by now, you didn't see what became of him.  You're not too sure about Rolomag either for that matter.  You had not seen him since late yesterday, and as far as you know he wanted to speak with Gro'tesk.  So they're either standing together or already dead.


Gasping and panting, Galik stands up and directs some of the orcs around you. 


"You, crawl that way," he says, "and you, keep shooting damn it!"


He kneels and grips another orc by the shoulder.


"Finish this up, damn it!"


A team of orcs furiously work on a contraption similar to the siege breakers you constructed during the war with the Wister Elves.  Actually, you recognize a lot of the orcs around you from those days.


Galik slumps against the wagon, gritting his teeth. 


"Nolazir," he says, "we're going to try to break through.  We'll have archers at the sides covering you, follow us, and when we get close enough break out and rush them."


While the path you have to go is pretty narrow, you're sure this will only lead to your doom.  Well, so would sitting here eventually.

You stay here and cover Galik

"Galik" you say, "let's hold out here."


"We need everyone to push through."


"No, if we stay here we can shoot them when they inevitably charge us," you say, "we will probably die anyway, but we can whittle down their numbers a bit."


Galik nods and prepares his bow.  You pass along the order for everyone to stand their ground and wait for the time to fire….


But it never seems to come.


Two days later, the fighting has calmed down in the camp, many of your orcs apparently having managed to escape if they weren't killed.


Now most of the Red Handed are focused on launching volley after volley of arrows at you.  Many of you manage to shoot back, sometimes killing and wounding theirs.  But they have you beat down pretty well.


As you stand to fire an arrow, a sharp pain shoots through your chest.  Gritting your teeth you kneel down, gripping the arrow lodged in your chest.  You snap the shaft in half, knowing that pulling it out would only really cause you to bleed out faster.


Still, this isn't the first time you have been shot with an arrow.  You sit down against the wagon next to Galik.  He is not doing so well, having developed a fever, and his wound becoming red and filled with pus. 


An orc bends as low as he can as he dashes over to you.  Right before he can yell his message an arrow tears into his forehead.  He looks up at it, almost going cross eyed.  The orcs mouth moves but no sound comes out, and he collapses. 


Looking around, your orcs seem dispirited.  Many nursing wounds that will eventually be the death of them anyway.  One tired looking orc crawls his way over to you.


"Nolazir," he says, "I was with you during our fight with the Wister Elves.  I will remain with you until the bitter end."


"The bitter end is already here, my friend," you respond.


Galik wheezes and grabs your shoulder.


It's time," he says while bearing his sword.


"They've already got us beat," he says, "we mind as well go out on our feet."


You and the other orc help Galik up as he struggles to stand.  He manages to get his own balance though.


"Friends, warriors," he says, "the end is here.  I say we honor our fallen comrades, and go out on our feet as Gigalak intended it to be."


Galik's voice is raspy and weak.  The remaining orcs all nod and prepare to charge.


"Forward!" Galik cries.


As you and your young friend storm forward, you do not hear the rest of the orcs going.


"What is the this?" Galik says, as you both see the other orc dead on the ground, an axe in his skull.


One of the orcs gestures to the dead orc with the arrow in his head.  


"The Red Handed gave us an ultimatum while you were busy talking about how best to get us all killed," he says.


"What are you-" you say.


"Shut up," he says, "this fool was going to tell you."


"Tell us what?" you ask.


Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was the trust in your fellows.  But under normal circumstances you should have seen this coming.


"It's better if we show you."


About a dozen orcs notch their bows, you reel back in surprise, inhaling deeply.


"I order you to-" Galik is cut off as several arrows hit him, he immediately drops.


You only get a moment to roar in rage as several more arrows pierce your chest.  You stagger back, blood starting to ooze out of your body. 


"Argh! I'll fucking kill you!"


Before you can muster anything else your old friends have restrung their bows.


"By Gigalak's blood I'll-"


Arrows whistle through the air and slam into your body, gritting your teeth and writhing in pain as the deadly projectiles tear through your flesh and organs.


You go down, yelling an unintelligible garble, as you fall into a rage filled heap.  Twitching you lay there, all of your senses stopping as a haze slowly envelops your vision.