DF Novices Team-B, Session 5 - Diary of Yorgen Gant

   Here is a write-up from the player of Yorgen of the B-Team session from last week. 

Session Date:    Thursday 17 August 2023

Party roster:

Yorgen Gant, human knight, 65 points (PC)
Ulokk, half-ogre thief, 64 points (PC)
Maximilian "Stout" Grupher III, goblin cleric, 65 points (PC)

Campaign Date:    28 and 29 June, Year 645 of the Vycenaean Empire.

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Diary of Yorgen Gant:

It is important never to underestimate an enemy. This is a lesson that has been taught to me time and time again, and yet I still find myself in the position of failing to heed it... time and time again. When those enemies are Orcs, this become all the more important. Heed this lesson and heed it well.

When the dust of battle had settled, it became clear that Fenn had indeed seen the camp and could tell us more about it. That is to say, he could confirm there were, by his estimate, about a dozen Orcs present in what looked like a temporary camp. To this tally we could add one patrol of up to half a dozen Orcs, which pursued him as soon as he was spotted. Given the number we have now slain, and the trophies the wolves are carrying back from their impromptu hunt, we can surmise about eight Orcs remain alive.

Darkness was now fast settling, and thus we had to abandon all attempts at attacking the Orc camp right then and there. We decided to follow Fenn to a defensible position, camp there, rest, and attack the Orc camp in the morning to free the captive.

No such luck.

I curse myself for a fool. Of course the Orcs were never going to stay in place knowing they had been spotted. Especially not when their patrol failed to return, dwindling their numbers by half. Why would they stay? I certainly wouldn't...

We find the site of the Orc camp bereft of Orcs, and bereft of captive. Bereft of all, in fact, save for the tracks they have left behind allowing us to follow them. And this should have been a warning to me. This is where I should have known things were not as they seem, and taken greater precautions. We have a short discussion about what to do when we catch up with the Orcs, which we realise can be done if we lighten Stout's load by having Ulokk carry his pack. This at least allows the young goblin priest to follow us at something approaching a normal speed, and my hopes of catching this war band at their next camp rose quickly.

Too quickly.

Too quickly indeed did we come upon them. The Orcs, it seems, have stopped to rest. A mere four of them, less than anticipated, but still enough to give us a fight. They seem to have left their captive where we can see them, on a slight rise in the terrain ahead, and they have taken defensive positions around this captive and a chest. In a few swift gestures I organise our party into a fighting line, and we advance.

This was, naturally, a trap.

Archers opened on us as soon as we broke cover of the trees, and from our left comes the sound of more Orcs. Ulokk, thinking quickly, rushed forwards to block the path down to us, and I run to back him up. Arrows rain down... by Ishtanna, how many archers do they have? I count at least three now, and they have us enveloped.

Orcs rush down, some trip, others vault that simple obstacle, and we are fighting for our lives, all the while harried by the archers which even Fenn cannot suppress. Howling in the near distance shows that the wolves are nearby, but also that they have intercepted enemies on our left flank... or what remains of it. As the fight gets more intense, I am constantly nicked by arrows, catching several in my shield, and trying to hold the seemingly unstoppable tide of Orcs at bay. There cannot be more than half a dozen rushing us, having to come single file, but they are proving difficult to slay.

An arrow takes me in my left side as I move the shield, and I reel out of the line of combat. Ulokk tries to hold for the few seconds I am trying to compose myself, but he is pushed back. I push back in and the dance begins anew.

Wolves appear in my peripheral vision, on the rise that forms our left flank. The Orcs ahead are beginning to fall back, and Ulokk presses the advantage while the wolves swoop in from the flank. Bless Ishtanna, this may still...

No.

No!

From the flank a large Orc appears, bedecked in mail armor, wielding a shield, and a sword that is many times better crafted than mine. We fall upon one another, and I can feel the raw power in his strikes, the skill of his sword arm. Gods preserve me, but I am matched in skill, and outmatched in strength. My blows, when they land, seem to do nothing to this creature, and a solid strike in return finally finishes off my shield. It had held longer than I had feared, but nowhere near as long as I had hoped. Stout, brave Stout, rushes in behind the creature. It trips for a moment and I take the opportunity to slide my sword point first under its guard.

Nothing!

The feeble edge of my cheap sword slides harmlessly off the creature's mail, and although I can hear the fight on the ridge finally turning our way, my attention must be on this Orc, this chieftain. Despite Stout hitting it over the head multiple times, the Orc gets back up and resumes fighting as if nothing had happened.

In a flash, the worst happens.

The creature turns and slashes at Stout. The young priest, noble and brave, has no answer to the sheer ferocity of this strike, and I see him go down in a welter of his own blood. It was only Stout's timely intercession to Ishtanna that allowed me to last this long in the fight, and I vow to take my revenge on this Orc.

Somehow...

By the gods, how will I defeat this thing?!