Griffins Keep

"What's on the agenda for the day Captain? My pockets are feeling light. Hello, you daydreaming or something?"

Jeb usually wasn't one for drifting off into space, but today he couldn't concentrate. Something he couldn't point out was eating at him. But after a couple shakes of the head and a good sip of ale he finally got his head cleared, and remembered he had men to think about.

"Sorry Ace, I was trying to figure out where we should go next. We haven't had a good job in weeks, and we can't just sit in this tavern forever, no matter how good the ale is."

The old man laughed at the remark, and agreed on all parts.

Its difficult work running a mercenary unit, especially when nobody needs mercenaries.

"Well, I say we give it another day or two and move on. The boys are getting restless."

"Aye, i know. Nothing makes a man more dreary than cold ale and warm women."

Both men grinned at that, and were taking large sips from their mugs when the door busted open and in limped a bloodied soldier.

"Help! We need help! Goblins, at least two dozen! Attacked us early this morn, hours before daylight. Someone has to help!"

The bartender and a tavern maid rushed over to help the man, and so did Jeb and Ace.

"Where were you attacked? How many injured?"

The man looked over, pale and shaking.

"Griffiths Keep, about five miles north from here. And most are more than wounded, only a handful of us made it to the basement before we were slaughtered. I escaped through the tunnels and came for help. Please, you have to help!"

Jeb and Ace looked at each other, and Ace nodded.

"I'll go get the men ready. We'll leave when you're prepared."

Ace rushed off to the back where the rooms are, as most of the men were still in their rooms sleeping off the previous nights drunk.

"Do not worry, we will help. You can rest assured, we've handled goblins before."

The man seemed to relax a bit, but then tensed up again.

"Be careful! These goblins are much larger than any I've seen before! And stronger! Do not get yourselves killed like so many of us did."

"Do not worry, sir, we will deal with these monsters and save any we can."

By the time Jeb helped the bartender carry the now unconscious man to a room and gathered his gear, the rest of the men were outside waiting with the horses. Jeb strode across the small street and mounted his horse, followed by the others.

"We ride north. Immediately."

On the ride there, Jeb explained what he had been told by the soldier to his men. There were eleven of them in total, all skilled in the art of killing. But they were no murderers. They killed only when forced to do so, and only when it is in the line of duty.

They were a legitimate mercenary company, registered with proper authorities and all.

After about a mile, one of the mercenaries spoke up.

"I wonder what he meant by bigger and stronger? Goblins are small, so maybe just fatter?"

"I do not know, but we must be prepared for the worst. Keep your guard up and eyes peeled at all times. They might have scouts checking for reinforcements."

The men nodded and agreed, and each began glancing around more often.

Once they had covered about two miles, Ace declared he would take one man and go scout ahead and see what they were up against.

"Be careful. If you see anything suspicious, report back immediately. And do not take any unnecessary risks."

"Aye, Captain. We'll return swiftly and safely, and with word on the situation."

The ground ahead was getting rougher, and the brush thicker. It seems Griffiths Keep has fallen into a state of disrepair.

By the time they had traveled close to four miles, the scouts returned.

"Captain, it doesn't look good. The large goblins the soldier was rambling about aren't goblins. They're orcs! Some more than six feet tall, and we saw at least a dozen, and a handful were wounded."

'Orcs? No one has seen an orc around here in years. That would explain why the keep fell so easily. Orcs are much more brutal than any goblin, and easily twice as strong. Most are larger and stronger than even an average man.'

"This isn't good. We have a fight on our hands for sure. We need a plan. Anything you see that could help us?"

The old man thought for a second before he replied.

"We might be able to set a trap for them."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, we could have some men hiding in trees, five should do, armed with bows. The rest of us ride up, make a lot of noise as if we intended to attack. If we immediately turn tail and run they will probably think we did not know as much as we do and are simply trying to retreat. Then we go back to the ambush site and let the archers take out a couple and fight the ones who are left head on."

Jeb considered this plan briefly before speaking.

"It could work, but it's risky. It's also about the only viable option we have unless we want to be outnumbered during this brawl."

All the other men looked on in silence while Jeb thought.

"Well, if no one has a better idea, then let's do it. Ace, take four men and get ready. The rest of you get ready. This is gonna be the fight you've been itching for."

All the men looked at each other and then back to their leader, and nodded in silent agreement. Now was not the time for more talk. Now was time for the art of war.

Jeb and the others waited for Ace's signal that they were set up and ready, and they rode forth.

"Now men, don't try anything too reckless, we'll have plenty of time for that shortly." Jeb chuckled.