“Bunch of junk!” said Short-arse, rifling through the stash of Orc equipment and tossing it casually away.
“I don’t know, I think I could use these,” said Jandyr, holstering a set of flint-tipped arrows with quills painted with skull and crossbones.
“They desecrate our homes and then fill it with this rubbish,” muttered Short-arse, pacing around the room.
“Ooo,” squealed the Wizard as he held up a bottle of yellow liquid to the light of the lantern, sloshing it around to determine the contents.
“Not a fan then?” asked Trogdar, sitting on his haunches and jigging in agitation.
Short-arse stopped pacing and stared at the Barbarian patronisingly. She started pacing again, saying, “You a big fan of the Marauders who burn your villages to the ground for the glory of their Gods?”
“Point taken,” said Trogdar, reaching into his loincloth and adjusting something. “Shall we get on then, we’ve messed about in here long enough.”
“Just a moment, just a moment,” mollified Jandyr, peering into a chamber pot.
“We’re done here,” said Short-arse, storming off back into the entrance chamber. The three Warriors shared a look before following after.
“That door’s locked,” called Trogdar as Short-arse returned to the door he had been knocking at previously.
“Alright, alright. Let’s follow your lead,” replied the disgruntled Dwarf sarcastically.
“I was only tryin’ to help,” said Trogdar disconsolately before walking off towards the opened door. He peered through, checking around and down the corridor.
“All clear,” he said, walking onwards, “Look, I’m just trying to protect you guys, you know, in case there’s a nasty monster or ambush around the next corner, ‘cos I can take whatever they throw at me.”
There was a chittering noise above. Trogdar paused and raised the lantern high into the air, illuminating a swarm of bats clinging to the rafters who swooped as their sleep was disturbed.
“AAAAAARGH! THEY’RE IN MY HAIR, THEY’RE IN MY HAIR!” he screamed as the bats descended around him. He flailed wildly, sword in hand as they fluttered and flapped at him.
“Very brave,” said Jandyr, dodging the Barbarian’s swings as best he could whilst shooting bats out of the air.
“Heroic some might say,” chimed in Short-arse, standing on a wing and bringing her axe down through the creature.
“GEDDEMOFF!” shrieked Trogdar, his wild swings easily avoided by the nimble bats.
“FREEZE!” shouted the Wizard, a blizzard of icicles pouring from his hands and thundering into the bats like darts. The momentum sent the creatures thudding into the wall where they were pinned like Halloween decorations.
As the icicles continued to crash into the wall, a cloud of orange spores flew up into the air, covering the Warriors who descended into fits of sneezes and coughs.
“AAAACK!” spat Trogdar, bringing up a wad of orange phlegm which he spat onto the floor. “Thanks a lot Wizzy!”
The Wizard was crawling on hands and knees, his breathing severe and wheezing.
“Don’t see what the problem is,” said Short-arse, breathing in the orange dust with impunity.
“You… wouldn’t…” said Jandyr through ragged breaths, the spores turning his eyes and nose red, “you… live… down… here… with… this… stuff…”
“Used to…” said Short-arse with sadness.
“I agree, it’s not that bad,” said Trogdar, breathing the spores in.
“Look at the Wizard… and tell me it’s not… that bad…” said Jandyr, the cloud beginning to disperse and allowing his breathing to return.
The Wizard was led on his back, desperately gasping for air.
“I’ll look after him,” said Trogdar, leaning down and hoisting the Wizard across his shoulder. “There you go, see? Told you I look after you lot. Have I ever led you into trouble?”
Trogdar opened a door at the end of the corridor and held up the lantern. There was a loud clank of metal as 8 immense Black Orcs turned to look at the intruders. They stood astounded for a moment before organising themselves into battle lines and advancing on the Warriors.
“There’s always a first time…” said Short-arse grimly, clutching her axe tight.