“I fn’ hate goblins”
To’ruuk pulled his greataxe free from the chest of their last foe. His half-orc strength had been no match for their scrappy leather hide armor, if you could call it armor at all.
“Just can’t help assailing passerby’s, I suppose. Tiny brains. Mustn’t’ve known that we were the greatest adventuring duo to grace these lands in a century. A millennia!”
Faelin did have a knack for illustrious exaggeration that some might call delusions of grandeur. It did help squeeze some extra coin out of their patrons, though.
“Aye, and would two fearsome heroes receive such a lashing from some mangy goblins? Gonna sing about that?”
Wincing while carefully wrapping his wounds in cloth, Faelin had to agree it was not befitting of legend.
“We vanquished the evildoers, brother! The rest of the details need not sour the inspired songs.”
Having cleansed his blade of goblin, To’ruuk took to assembling a makeshift encampment amidst the dreary woods with the help of his preening companion.
“Let’s settle ‘ere for night. Least we have some horrid guts to drive off the wolves. Shouldn’t be too far to deliver this wagon in the morning.”
They assembled a small stock of firewood, collected some nearby elderberries, and strewed the goblin remains around the camp to ward the area of any other attacks for the evening.
They sat around the camp’s fire for a while, tending their wounds and gambling for first watch; To’ruuk was never a match for his clever partner, but he never minded taking the first shift anyway.
Not that it lasted long.
Just as To’ruuk settled into his watch, his ear caught a faraway rustle.
It grew closer and soon was accompanied by tremors in the ground.
Stomp.. Stomp.. Stomp..
To’ruuk rose to wake his partner of the imminent danger.
Peeling out of slumber, Faelin could only witness as the tremendous scene unfolded before him.
Leaping from the darkness of the shadowy forest, a humanoid figure dashed doggedly into the camp in desperate retreat.
“Help… help!” He yelped in pain and ran for cover behind the encampment’s wagon. “There’s… an …”
Before he could finish his warning, the tailing Owlbear burst into the campsite, shrieking violently in surprise of his new prey.
“So much for goblin guts, eh?”
Faelin scrambles from his bedroll and gathers his pre-loaded crossbow.
To’ruuk braces defiantly in front of his half brother, gripping his greataxe in gruesome anticipation.
The stranger peers from cover, weak from suffered wounds.
The owlbear leaps onto its hind legs and shrieks with beastial rage, ready to rend their flesh from their bones.
What should they do?
Help shape the story!
A. Attack the owlbear – 3 votes
B. Attempt peace – 3 votes
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