The Attack

The Attack

‘Help’ the villagers cried, ‘we are under attack.’ The villagers of the Aftar cried as the forces of Death Adder began kicking down the door of the church. The church had been granted arcane protection by the village elder, a man by the name of Galen Oatward, but these protections wouldn’t last long.

The village elder struggled poured every ounce of energy he had in to keeping the wards in place but with every strike from Hustfur, Death Adder’s Lieutenant and Master of Executions, and his gang of goons he knew it was only a matter of time before either the wards failed or he did. Galen turned to his aide and mouthed the word ‘Help.’ The assistant to the village elder snuck out through a secret tunnel and sprinted towards the neighbouring village of Adhur, but he wasn’t alone as Hustfur sent one of hunters to dispatch him.

In the village of Adhur sat a rundown tavern; this tavern was famous for selling a form of ale that would double as roofing tar, but that didn’t deter people from drinking it. In this tavern sat a trio of adventurers, or you might even call them friends, sat in the corner of the tavern enjoying this pig swill of an ale by the flagon. The trio enjoyed were enjoying their rest and relaxation; it seemed that their lives were a constant blend of rescuing princesses from mad wizards, slaying monsters or fighting off the forces of Death Adder. ‘Help me’ said the Aftar village elder’s aide as he burst into the tavern, ‘please?’ He fell to the floor, an arrow in his back piercing his heart ‘Aftar, Hustfur’ he weakly whispered with his dying breath

A tall muscular man wearing royal blue breeches and a kilt of animal pelt slapped the table with his flagon before standing up ‘Did he say hustler?’ He growled from behind his wild long black hair.

A Dwarf in a green tunic and leather armour nodded his response ‘Aye Ax’ he took a swig of his ale, ‘that he did.’

Anger decorated the muscular man’s face and quick as a flash he collected his sword and drove it into the hunter that had killed the man who had brought the news of Hustfur ‘Where is Hustfur? He growled at the man he had impaled with his longsword.

The hunter coughed up blood ‘Aftar’ he cried with his last breath.

The man withdrew his sword and wiped it on the dead hunter’s clothes ‘Gillius, Tyris’ he called out to his companions, ‘we are going to Aftar!’

The Dwarf in the green tunic emerged from the tavern alongside a tall beautiful woman wearing chainmail over a red tunic and white leggings ‘We’re with you Ax’ the Dwarf grunted as he hefted his axe onto his shoulder. With that acknowledgement; Ax Battler, Gillius Thunderhead, and Tyris Flare made haste to the village of Aftar.

Galen’s strength had given way; his mana and stamina had been spent, giving Hustfur and his goons the chance to break down the door to the church. Hustfur picked the village elder up by his throat ‘Where is the Shadowsteel Spear?’ The old man struggled briefly before he died taking the secret of the spear’s location with him ‘What a waste’ Hustfur said as he threw the corpse of the elder to the floor, ‘who here knows where the Shadowsteel Spear is?’

‘I do!’ Came a voice from behind, ‘but you will have to beat it out of me!’

The mob spun around to see a trio of warriors taking a stand against him ‘Who dares stand against Hustfur and the forces of Death Adder?’ Hustfur commanded.

Ax stepped forward ‘I am Ax Battler’ he called out,’ and I am here to kick your ass!’

Hustfur laughed at this statement before commanding his goons ‘Eliminate them!’

Hustfur’s gang set upon the trio; a group of mace wielding men wearing very little clothing attacked Ax but soon regretted their actions as Ax was the stronger and more experienced warrior. Ax’s attacks with his sword were blindingly fast, the mace squad were now splayed across the church courtyard with blood running in all directions.

A trio of armoured inbred looking men with spiked clubs tried to attack Gillius the Dwarf. Gillius bisected the first man before the second managed a near miss with his club before Gillius embedded his axe deep into the attackers skull. As he struggled to wrench his axe free the third man took the opportunity to strike Gillius from behind but the Dwarf dropped his axe and thrust his horned helmet into the goons gut, dropping him to the floor.

Tyris wasn’t waiting for Hustfur’s goons to attack her and launched herself into the remaining hunters. As they struggled to notch their bows; Tyris became a vortex of silver and red as her short sword made short work of the hunters. The nimble warrior soon clashed with Hustfur’s lead henchman, an Amazonian by the name of Zuburoka launched her attack when she saw that Tyris was from a rival tribe ‘One more Firewind to put in the ground!’ She spat, ‘you will make my sixth!’

Tyris repelled the oncoming attack; the rival Amazon was not only taller but she also had the greater muscle mass compared to Tyris. The flame haired Amazon ducked and weaved to avoid the axe swinging savage, her speed and agility giving her the advantage in manoeuvrability. Zuburoka swung her axe in an overhand chop but Tyris stepped aside and run the giant woman through with her blade ‘This makes you my tenth Black Axe Tribe kill’ Tyris whispered softly into the muscular Amazon’s ear before she fell to the ground.

The trio began marching towards Hustfur who began sweating like a pig when he saw the state of his forces. Reaching onto his belt; he removes a flask containing a grey liquid which he promptly smashes on the ground, a grey mist envelops him ‘Not today’ he laughs. As the mist clears, the group are despondent to see that Hustfur has escaped.