The arrow impacted short of the pack and kicked clumps of dirt into the air behind a shower of red and yellow sparks. His arrow was intended to scare off the creatures. They had but the one chance. A second arrow would not be so polite.

Sure enough, the leaders slowed dramatically, and those behind tripped and tumbled over top of them. Orcs always lost much of their heroism with the sunrise.

Smiling at the comedy playing itself out before him, Jenson turned toward Ragen so he could answer his question. “That dwarf just handed me a summons.”

“What dwarf?” asked Ragen, looking around. He casually fired a volley of half-a-dozen hunting arrows towards the distant pile-up.

Jenson gestured at an empty spot on the ground. “Well, that one, there… oh. Where’d he go? Ah, well. Never mind. The little squirt was there. He gave me this.”

Ragen took the official parchment from Jenson’s hand. He was to attend Verdia promptly, and to be prepared for battle.

“Sounds like fun,” said Ragen. Jenson just nodded slowly.