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in a life or

death situation are clearly two different things.

Finally, Jorund called him over to the camp fire for the day-meal. He was ravenous. The meal consisted of flatbread and roasted boar, as he now see the animal being cooked.

He was fascinated by the cooking fire being used. It was a large metal plate with runic

sigils on it. It provided enough heat for cooking without the smoke of a wood fire. It

also absorbed any smell generated by the cooking, as he couldn’t detect the aroma of

the roasting meat until he got closer to the fire.

Jorund left him for a while, carrying food. He deduced it was for the mercenaries

posted as sentries around the small camp. Tyler went back to his bedroll to rest some

more. The sounds of a whispered discussion woke him up. He saw Habrok, Jorund, and

a mercenary huddled together. He stood up and joined them.

“Good to see you well my lord,” said Habrok.

Tyler just nodded and sat down. He noticed that the men’s armor had dents, rents, and

rips. Jorund, in particular, had a long gash across the front of his leather armor, some

of the iron plates were missing and while some had cracks in them. Must be a hell of a

fight for the man. But his battleaxe was still with him, strapped on his back. A sword

and a knife on his hips completed his ensemble.

Habrok’s black leather armor also showed damage though he still had his long sword

and his bow. The mercenary had an axe, smaller than Jorund’s, as well as a knife. His

leather armor was of a similar condition as that of Habrok’s. He was introduced to Tyler

as Kjotve, the remaining senior guard. Tyler noticed that nobody had shields anymore.

“What’s the plan now?” inquired Tyler.

Jorund told him that the plan was to get through to Bildsfell. Through the hills, avoiding

open areas where they may be spotted by either jotnar or dokkalfr. Upon reaching the

town, the group will tell authorities about the fate of the column. The mercenaries

intend to get word back to their guild as well as Maljen’s town commander. Jorund’s

group will try to get any news about the route to Scarburg. On Habrok’s scouting, it

appeared that nobody was in pursuit. The battle site now appeared to be clear of

enemies though Habrok was concerned about sighting jotnar bands in the hills.

“That is strange. As strange as the jotnar and dokkalfr working together. The magic of

Fossegrim Forest has always kept the jotnar at bay, even in these hills. But the size of

the ambush horde was also extraordinary. The combined jotnar and dokkalfr army was

enough to take a small town, not for a mere ambush,” the mercenary commented.

“Well, that’s what we have to deal with now. It could be that they wanted to discourage

further reinforcements for Scarburg,” Jorund replied. Then he turned to Habrok, “Rest

for a while and then scout out a trail for us.”

Habrok nodded and then took out his bedroll and went to Tyler’s side of the clearing where he laid it out and grabbed a nap. The mercenary also left and went to the forest,

presumably to resume his sentry duties. Tyler didn’t follow Habrok, apprehensive that

he may get caught up in one of the man’s dialogues. He also needed some time to clear

his head. He sat and observed his surroundings. It was a typical small forest clearing.

Yet there was something in the air that was a bit off. A wisp of unnatural coldness.

Freak me, thought Tyler. All I need now is an elf, a dwarf, and some halflings and I’ll be

set for Mordor.

The trek towards safety thankfully went without further incident. Though Tyler was now

attired in light leather armor. With a simple leather helm reinforced with iron bands, a

short sword from the extra gear, together with a cloak. Habrok went ahead, scouting

and marking the trail, while Jorund was in the lead of the party as he was the only one

familiar with Habrok’s forest signs. Movement was slow as they frequently had to stop

and take cover. Only Habrok was allowed to be active outside of the trail being

followed. Tyler didn’t see any of the beings or creatures they were hiding from as the

rule was stop, take cover and don’t move.

At this point, Tyler was happy enough to follow it. Their small number, the anxiety

resulting from the dark recesses and strange sounds of the dense forest covering the

hills, the constant fear of an attack, all served to dampen his curiosity. Meals were

eaten cold and shelter locations were carefully selected.

Surprisingly, Habrok was not his usual talkative self. Being in his element, he looked

and acted like a different person. A bit cold, alert and professional. Tyler didn’t even see him smile once they got on their way. After a few days of numbing travel, Habrok came

back to them with the news that the town was in sight about four miles down the trail.

But it was under siege.

Tyler could only think of the man's jinx.

About an hour later, Jorund and Tyler lay prone behind a clump of bushes. Both

covered with a forest green tarp with dabs of brown and other woodland colors on it.

Habrok was some distance away, covered with a similar tarp, also watching the scene

in front of them. One mercenary each on the sides of the position and the third at their

back served as sentries.

To his mind, the scene before Tyler was amazing. It was like a fantasy miniature set

come to life! The group was positioned on the foothills of the Fossegrim Hills. A series

of mounds and small hills, covered with trees and bushes. It marked the start of the

open fields around Bildsfell. The walled town itself was bordered on two sides by what

Jorund called the Telemark River. The river itself was wide enough to prevent easy

access to the town. In front of the town, around five miles from its city gate, was the beginnings of a great forest.

The two could see many plumes of smoke dotting the landscape, the sign of destroyed

villages, hamlets and farms. Even this far from the city, they could see the tents of a

jotnar

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