A cold shiver shot up Ludo’s spine and a lump of fear formed in his throat. The ferocious wolf charging at Ludo was a terrifying sight. Ludo quickly threw himself to one side, using the wall as cover. When the wolf came around the side of the wall, he stabbed his short sword into the wolf’s rib cage, the momentum of the fast moving wolf tore the sword from his grasp, but left the sword buried deep in the wolf’s body with blood steaming from the deep wound.
Ludo with his back braced against the compound wall, quickly drew his second short sword and used it to keep the snarling wounded animal at bay. “Feldard, help!” he yelled.
Feldard was halfway across the bridge when the rogue’s call came. He looked and saw the trapped predicament of the party’s newest member and scowled. The dwarf knew, from experience, his short dwarven legs alone would never cover the distance in time to save the man. Still, Feldard could not just stand there and watch.
Hasan continued to jog forward. Though he had dashed ahead to confront the wolf, he was leery of the party’s exposed position on the river banks and bridge. As he proceeded, he worried about the time the party could lose to these three goblins and their canine allies. Frustrated, the elf stopped, wheeled and cast his sleep spell at them.
It was fortunate timing, the three gobs all fell unconscious just as they were about to release another of the vicious, oversized wolves. Now, the two animals that remained were safely trapped in the pen.
Feldard charged into the entrance, drawing back his trusted weapon and with a mighty bellow, he threw his battle axe towards the dire wolf.
Stephan charged forward, but stopped short as he saw Feldard prepare to hurl his axe. The axe sailed past Stephan. The air screamed in fright as the blade sliced its way to the wolf.
As the others rushed to the newcomers aid, Maruc lagged behind, slowed by his leg. He watched as swift blades met the wolf-terror. He had not seen what Ludo had seen in the darkness but his expression did not fill Maruc with comfort. He smiled grimly and resolutely drew his chain-flail and shield together and marched to stand on the far side of the entrance.
More barking could be heard within and the harsh voices of goblins goading their wolves to attack. He turned and almost bumped into Miklos. “I’d stay back if I were you.”
Maruc didn’t grin.
Nervously, Miklos shadowed the priest as he made his way into the goblin nest. His white knuckles gripped his staff at the thought of battle. He was no warrior and he’d faced many terrible creatures, but even this knowledge didn’t take much of the tightness in his stomach away.
He collided with Maruc.
“Sorry.” he said absentmindedly. The priest’s expression did nothing for his fear.
He glanced into the dimly lit bough beyond Maruc. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. Enough time to see the last wolf hurtle out of the darkness. It was huge and ugly, more brutish than the others, an old scar across its face where it had lost an eye. Its remaining eye gleaming with rage-fire. Its terrible maw dripping with saliva.
Miklos cried out in alarm.
His trusted battle axe now out of his hands, the dwarf was now limited in his ability to contribute to the battle. Stephan quickly stepped in to fill the breach. In seconds, it was all over. The wolf lay impaled after Stephan had laid a killing blow. The warrior, not in his comfort zone, stood in a ready stance, casting eyes about for more danger.