18 Night Attack (1/2)

The sounds of howling continue through the night — putting everyone on edge.

Eomer positions the two carts between the caravan and the forest edge — but moves the mule inside the circle of wagons. He plants his four javelins into the ground, ready to be thrown the moment a wolf shows itself.

Trent retrieves a few short torch stands from his pack — placing them at measured intervals 50 yards away — lighting the surroundings between the cart and the trees. He has his shield slung in one arm and his sword at the ready.

You stay close to the handcart, your extra quivers and your shield in arm's reach in case you might need them.

Thomas lies down on the other cart, preparing to get some sleep. His bow lies close to his side in case of an attack during the night.

Dune is sitting down, back to one of the merchant's wagon wheels, apparently sleeping. However, fluctuations in his body indicate some form of magic-use — perhaps a commune with his hawk, Elm.

Bruce is once again sleeping in a hastily set-up tent behind the two carts.

If he sleeps like he did when you first met with the hunters, you doubt he would awaken at the first sign of trouble.

Trent approaches you.

”Get some rest kid,” he advises. ”Eomer and the bird get first watch,” he gestures at the sleeping Dune.

”This doesn't feel right,” you stress your words.

”Really? How?”

”The wolves I knew from the forest were opportunistic and relentless once they attacked prey. But they wouldn't attack a clearly stronger opponent like the runed bear — much more an armed caravan far from the forest.”

”That is true,” he assents. ”There's something we're not seeing — something else behind the shadows.”

”What does Eomer think?”

”He feels the same,” Trent answers, ”but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to make some gold — and keep a few merchants safe.”

You nod silently, thinking about the harsh life of adventurers before drifting to sleep.

Night deepens.

The first attacks occur well past midnight.

Thomas is standing watch together with you when the first traces of wolves appear at the edge of the torchlights.

The wolves seem larger than the ones you faced inside the forest. All their eyes have a bluish-white glow and mist seems to form as they breathe.

”Frost wolves,” you bellow, ”all those wolves are frost wolves.”

Thomas raises two fingers to his mouth and gives a piercing whistle.

”The wolves are at the doorstep!” he shouts. ”Get up you bastards!”

The first wolves start charging a hundred yards out.

Thomas draws his bow and shoots at the wolves.

His arrows pierce through one of them and bounces at another.

You grab your bow and shoot three arrows consecutively — hitting one in the throat. Your other arrows bounce harmlessly or fail to penetrate deep enough into the wolves with their armor of ice.

You reach out for three more arrows but you lock eyes with Thomas.

He shakes his head and makes a gesture at the coming wolves.

You drop your bow and grab your shield. You draw Skybreaker from your back and head to face the wolves to give Thomas more space to shoot.

The leading wolves crash into the torch stands — plunging the surroundings into darkness.

A wolf crashes to the ground, hit by one of Thomas' arrows.

It gets up on its feet with an arrow sticking off its chest. It growls in anger and pain and you see rime envelop the arrow until it shatters.

”Damn those wolves!” you roar in your head, ”and their blasted cold!”

Another wolf gets hit, arrow bouncing off its hide. It gets hit again — this time with a stronger force.

The hit stops its forward motion, even knocking it back to one other wolf.

”That's wasn't an arrow,” you realize.

You glance back for a split second and see Eomer readying to throw another javelin. Trent is rushing to your side — sword and shield at the ready — but not in time to meet the wolves.

The leading three wolves charge towards you from different angles. One of them crashes into your shield in an attempt to drag you to the ground.

You manage to keep your footing but a second wolf attempts a bite at your leg.

You angle your body sideways and meet the wolf's open jaws with the descending Skybreaker.

Karthas!

The wolf's head is pulverized by the concussive force of the blow and the ensuing shockwave.

The wolf's core is destroyed by the strike — blasting out a burst of cold that leaves your weapon covered in a thin layer of rime.

”The third wolf!” you remember.

You dive into a roll — barely avoiding a blast of cold and ice.

Another wolf goes down, pierced by an arrow through the eye — followed by a second one.

The arrow shots have seems to have more than doubled — so either Dune has joined the battle or Thomas is a better archer than you thought.

Trent reaches you and cuts down the wolf that crashed into your shield.

You deal with the other wolf with a shield bash and another strike to the head — this time, holding back Skybreaker's magic and preserving the core.

More wolves rush out of the forest and you begin to hear the sounds of battle coming from the wagons.

”Leave the boy,” Eomer shouts at Trent. ”Take Thomas with you.”

Trent gives you a nod before rushing to the wagons.

You see a fully-awakened Bruce moving to take his place.

He gives you a nod to show his readiness and he unsheathes Horizon — casually dropping its scabbard on the ground.

You move away from Bruce, giving him space to use his weapon.

A charging wolf lunges towards you, but it gets felled by an arrow to the throat before it hits.

”You keep those damned arrows away from me!” shouts Bruce, seeing the downed wolf at your feet.

He wields Horizon with practiced and calculated movements. The greatsword cutting any wolf that comes close while warding the others at bay. He doesn't swing the sword as you would have expected. Instead, he holds the hilt close to his chest, the sword blade towards the wolves, and he manipulates the hilt to move the blade in a controlled — even elegant — manner.

A flying javelin pins a wolf to the ground. Even with a spear through its body, it still attempts to force its way to the battle.

You move in closer and strike it at the neck — tearing its head from the body.

”I'm going!” Eomer shouts.