Iok Session 10 – Ambushed

‘Smoke and Fire’.  If you asked what flowed through the heart and lungs of a Forgen Sapper, he would stand tall and proclaim ‘Smoke and Fire’.  Days like today are where such a motto are born.

The scent of black powder was heavy in the still air, leaving an eye-high haze around The Northwinds mercenaries. 

“On your left!”

Drauk Northwind kept a tree to his right, its trunk taking the brunt of the Golyn volleys.  Moving behind him and east, Volimak and Culnen took their positions to the left of their commander.  Pistols flared and angry musket balls tore through the haze.  Sometimes, the ball would strike true… black blood polluting the forest floor.  Most of the time, the shot blasted tree bark from the still mountain pines.  A forest is a difficult place for direct fire combat.

Monitoring the south of the mule train, Drauk counted at least a dozen archers.  They launched volleys at the miners, allowing for the arching angle to account for the lack of a clear shot.  He knew that the miners carried no shields.  He had lost that argument when it came to accounting for inventory.  Shields did not dig mines, move stone, or support shafts.  Bolan reminded him that it was the job of the Northwinds and the rag tag group of half-breeds to address direct threats.  If they couldn’t stop a couple Golyn archers from killing miners, what were they paying them for?

“Keep low and stop the archers.  Let the axmen approach.”

The tactic was to take out the present threat… the axe wielding golyn warriors appeared to be without a ranged weapon.  They needed to close before they would become a threat. 

From the corner of his eye, Drauk saw the priestess rush to the brush behind him.  The hynid was with her.  Seemed the little beast had taken a liking to the lizardwomen.  Unlike the miners, this was added support… not responsibility.  Reaching to the earth, Drauk heard the Srylian tongue of the ancients call out for aid.  A vast field of vines and entangling brush erupted from the ground, halting many of the rushing axmen.  Very useful.  To the north, the half-beast scouts were employing the same tactic.  Locking down half of their foot soldiers greatly evened the odds, which until now had been largely in the golyn’s favor.

With the hynid watching over the priestess and the jerule and Covalian pirate watching the Nine Hammers, Drauk was free to focus his attention on the southern wave of archers.  To the north, he saw as the hynn and the Traton merchant guard rushed their attackers.  Amongst the golyn archers was a massive creature wielding a long hafted war axe.  Not another ogre, but just as bad.  Back in Drauk’s army days, they called such a creature a ‘Grudger’.  Seemed the golyn shamans knew much about how to breed their own, and this was a creature bred for war.  Gar, the massive hynn, charged past and directly into the swarm of golyn archers.  He would take a beating for that… a hynn is a powerful thing, but for every swing of his axe the golyn would take a dozen stabs at him.  Drauk would have to have a word with this young beast once the smoke cleared… teach him some tactics.

The guard seemed to be in his element.  Better defense and faster than the hynn.  Also, lucky… the grudger had found itself tangled up in the srylian’s vine-field.  This didn’t stop such a brute, but did slow it down.  Made it’s swings awkward and slow.  The guard positioned himself at the edge of the srylian magic, forcing the grudger to stay within or risk dropping its defenses for an opportunistic stab.  Clever.

Drauk drew his powder-horn and reloaded his long rifle.  He needed steady aim to cut through the trees and brush.  The archers were also taking cover, and pistols just weren’t cutting it here.

To the east, the flatlander had wandered into the trap.  Drauk had seen the baiting goyln before the battle began, mostly because the goyln wanted to be seen.  It had ducked behind a tree and waited for the wagon train to send a scout.  This was classic and fortunately the flatlander managed to avoid falling into the hidden spike pit.  The maneuver is a win-win situation for the ambusher… you dig a spike pit in the path of a caravan.  For the bait, you want a minor threat.  Something you wouldn’t send more than a scout or two to recon.  As they approach, they fall into the trap and you take out a scout.  Immediately after, you trigger the pincer and attack from the flanks with your main army.  If the scouts don’t see the bait, then the caravan stumbles into the pit instead.  This usually takes out the lead horses.  Same effect of stopping the caravan, but costs the raiders more as you typically lose a horse or two.

The flatlander was still tied up with this one golyn and separated from the main fight.  Drauk frowned.  These scouts don’t seem to fight as one unit, each attempting to be a hero in their own spotlight. 

“Change tactics… need to approach round the vine-field.  Take out the archers.  Stay close and cover each other against any axmen that break free.”

The other sappers moved as one, staying within each other’s primary pistol range.  They followed along the cover of the trees, saving their load for a clear shot.  Hammer in their offhand should they need to face a golyn directly.  Drauk used his rifle to cover them, picking off the open golyn as they drew their bows.

Behind him, the jerule charged to the west and rear of the caravan.  Past the cowering miners, desperate to find cover from the rain of arrows.  They could have been carrying the damn shields this whole time.

Shifting so as to see to his right, Drauk caught glimpse of a previously unseen band of axmen descend upon the hobok and the other srylian druid.  Another vine-field was laid down, but perhaps too late.  The ax wielding butchers charged through the field and attacked the hobok. 

Drauk caught Shipworth eyeing the scene.  Till now, he had been standing guard over the Nine Hammers... the last guard.  The Jerule had rushed to protect his own, leaving only the pirate remaining.  To the head of the mule train, Skinner and Nutcatcher were doing their best to calm the animals.  Seemed Skinner had already dispatched the baiting golyn with a pistol shot, but otherwise these two were too occupied with the mules to be of any further use.

Shaking his head and attempting to catch Shipworth's eye, Drauk willed him not to leave his post.  The pirate seemed not to see or not to care.  Drawing his bow, he moved to rear of the caravan. 

Quick evaluation of the scene… Drauk saw that he had soldiers at all key directions, but they were widely spread.  No one was in the center, and that is where the asset was.  The Nine Hammers family and the senior Keymeister.  Old Ironsbane drew his blade and took a stance, but the smith hadn’t swung it in anger since before Drauk had a beard.  Several of the miners had taken superficial wounds as had the dirt slave, Nevil.  The young darian cried out when Shipworth left his side, and Drauk could see a wide-eyed panic beginning to set in.

Though he had heard the whistle, he wasn’t fast enough to react.  Drauk’s head snapped back and struck the bark of the tree.  He heard the crack of both his nose and the shaft of the arrow that had struck his helmet.  Recovering, blood now pooled into his mustache.  Had he not been wearing a helm, that shot would have been a career ender.  Dropping his visor to shield against the next, he scanned the treeline.  This was a professional that had just entered play.  Looking skyward, he sought out the tree tops for the hidden sniper.

What he saw was not his anticipated hidden archer though.  Silhouetted against the clear blue sky was the shape of a mounted rider atop a flyng lizard.  Not a wyvern, something obscure and foreign to these woods.  With the sun at its back, it was near impossible to make out detail, the rider held still... calm.  At its own pace, it observed the violence below.

If this was the shaman, then the Nine Hammers expedition was in a vulnerable state.  The flying beast could pass quickly over their line and into the caravan center.  If it was an arcanist, it could rain fire down upon them in the manner of the Rikians.  A summoner had clear view in order to conjure some evil.  Even a simple well trained archer could end the Nine Hammer's patriarch.

The options were endless, and Drauk still had to find his sniper.  Raising his rifle, he decided to shoot the sun and bear his heart to the next arrow from the shadows.  If it held fire, may the next arrow burn before he died.