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!HggsKt0/NM 04/01/12(Sun)13:19 No.18537586>>18537496 >>18537531
You glance at them. The swordsmen, inculcated to certain standards of honour, look a little uneasy; but the mercs have no such qualms.
'Well then,' you say quietly, but in a voice that makes even Duson and Garon pay attention, 'men, it's time to earn your pay.'
The mercs nod. You turn around, and soon you can make out the shapes and forms of people running upslope, to a chorus of wailing and yells. It's not hard to tell that there aren't many men among the wailers and yellers.
'Typical,' Garon says. 'The men are fighting off the dogs. Well, well. Nock your arrows, men! Choose your targets! One quarry, one shot!'
You bid your men nock and ready as well; then, as they come within about fifty paces, you give the order to loose. Volley after volley of arrows fly through the woods, and though it isn't perfect archer terrain with all the trees around, many find their mark. Not many are fatal though, if the increased wailing is any indication.
You turn and see that the two elder men have drawn their swords, and several servants too. They form up in a line, and you watch the archers shift their aim, subtly corralling the remaining Stone Folk into a cluster. There must be thirty or forty of them in there.
'Remember! Take some prisoners today!' More laughter. 'Carry on then you bloody bastards, CHARGE!'
Your bowmen have also drawn swords, and are awaiting your orders. You wonder where the wounded might be, then you spot further forms running up from the foothills. The hounds.
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