Chapter Ten

Regroup, Return

It took Jack and Ivan two long days of walking before they had led the survivors of Westfall safely to Suenta. The others had made it back that morning, after tending to El-Shad’s wounds. Sherriff Romar of Suenta listened to the report and agreed that they should return to Westfall and attempt to push the Orcs out once and for all. With him and his two deputies, six Firecrest Militiamen who identified themselves from the survivors and the five heroes, there was 14 capable men at arms. Despite attempting to recruit the elven wizard Tel-Kessir, who flatly refused to come, Romar was satisfied with the makeshift force. With surprise and tactics, it should be a straightforward battle to defeat or rout the enemy.

Whilst supplies were being prepared, El-Shad talked to some of the Westfall villagers to get a better understanding of what happened. The Orcs had descended during the early hours one morning and secured the Firecrest Trading House before capturing the villagers. Forcing them to work long shifts in the mine, silver was carted up to the three smithies where the Orcs worked solidly on them. One of the smiths by the name of Daniel, managed to get a decent look at what they were doing. The silver was being crafted into weapons, but they weren’t using any heat to make the silver malleable. It occurred to Daniel and the other smiths that they were using the technique of cold forging, the skills and specifics unknown to them, save that it made the silver as hard as steel. As to why the Orcs required cold forged silver, Daniel didn’t know.

Ivan snapped his fingers as inspiration struck him, “I know,” but his expression turned confused, “but it doesn’t make any sense. Cold forged weapons have been, in legends at least, the bane of Faeries. Fae creatures are theorised to be astral spirits taking on physical form. I have little knowledge of the planar creatures, but I vaguely recall their spirits are immortal and can reform many times over unless they are slain with cold forged iron.”

“But the Orcs were making cold forged silver,” Herman pointed out. “What does that mean? Silver weapons are often used against earthly unnatural creatures, Werewolves for example. Is there a connection? Or is there such a thing as a Werefaerie?!”

Sherriff Romar shot Herman a frosty look.

“Before we leave,” said El-Shad, “I should get a replacement bow.” Making his way to Suenta’s weapon smith, he was disappointed to hear that it would take a couple of days for a new bow to be made. It would not be ready for the imminent strike party about to leave. The weapon smith mentioned that he might be able to get one from Wooka. “The village idiot,” mumbled El-Shad, but with little other choice he headed to Wooka’s yurt on the edge of town. El-Shad found him balanced on one leg on a tree stump with his hands in the air.

El-Shad cleared his throat as he approached, to which Wooka stepped down from his perch and greeted him with a wide smile. “Yellow, green and blue my friend! A good afternoon to you!”

Slightly puzzled, El-Shad replied, “Yes….. and to you. I’ve been told you might have a spare bow you may sell?”

“No, not I. I don’t have any bow to sell. You are mistaken,” Wooka replied, shifting his weight between legs like a subtle hop. El-Shad made move to thank him and move on but Wooka spoke up again, “But I do have one to trade!” – He crouched down to the ground and rolled along the ground towards his yurt. He jumped up in front of the doorway and pounced inside making cat meows. El-Shad didn’t quite know how to react, but just waited patiently.

More and more mimicked animal noises came out of the yurt, but eventually Wooka came out of brandishing a very fine looking longbow. El-Shad’s eyes lit up, “That looks just the thing! What would you like in trade?”

“In trade?” answered Wooka, “I don’t know, let me think.” He slowly turned away until his back was facing El-Shad, then let rip a loud fart in his direction. With a squeal of delight, he leapt up and span round again. “An arrow! To replace the bow! Do you have something blue? I like blue things! Blue chalk for example, that’s amazing!”

“Like a blue arrow?” El-Shad replied, but when Wooka nodded he had to decline. “I have no blue arrow, but I do have a silver arrow,” and he displayed one of the arrows manufactured by the Orcs.

Wooka took one look at it, and his face blanked for a moment. “Why are you carrying cold forged silver arrows?” His so direct statement caught El-Shad off guard who didn’t reply straight away. Wooka’s face brightened and he continued, “A fair trade! An arrow for a bow. A bow for an arrow. A white for a white!”

The exchange was made, and El-Shad was feeling completely kitted out again. However, that wasn’t the last of the trade. Wooka stepped forward and very gently wrapped a pink ribbon around his wrist, looping the ends into a bow. Eager to get away from this strange man, El-Shad thanked him, and rapidly retreated back to the town. When out of sight, El-Shad tried to undo the bow, but couldn’t seem to untie the knot. Pulling his knife out, he tried cutting the ribbon, but made no tear in it. With a sigh, he pulled his leather glove over the top of it and hoped the others wouldn’t see it.

Meanwhile, Herman had inquired about Abnus, Dr Doran’s patient. According to his observations, the headaches had continued and his sensitivity to light had intensified up until a week ago, when all symptoms vanished. He had apparently fully recovered. “Unfortunately,” continued the Doctor, “Two days later his head exploded whilst he was in the tavern. It made an awful mess, and the patrons were terrified.” Herman’s stomach turned at the thought of it.

It was time for the makeshift mercenary group to make their way to Westfall. The journey was uneventful, and each passing hour as the mining town grew closer the team were preparing themselves. Weapons were sharpened, tactics and battle plans discussed at length. Knowledge of the lay of the land would play an important factor in the assault.

The forward scouts returned with just a few hours to go to reach the town. They bore relieving, but grim news. The Orcs had apparently fled, but had burnt many of the buildings in a last ditch insult. With a frown, Romar decided not to change the plan agreed upon, but despatched the scouts again to make a further sweep of the town and surrounding areas to be sure that the Orcs were not waiting in ambush. Fortunately, their return signalled the negative.

After setting up a perimeter, and makeshift repairs made to the Firecrest Trading house, a visual examination of the majority of the builders confirmed fears that they would have to nearly all be rebuilt. Jack offered to return to Suenta and take messages to other towns requesting aid. Romar agreed, and Jack made his goodbyes saying he’d return in no more than a week.

The repairs commenced. Everyone pitched in, eager to get some shelters before the first of the returning villagers arrived. Still, the scouts patrolled the borders ready for the first sign of any Orc. Sherriff Romar wasn’t convinced they’d seen the last of them…