Cara Newsman

UP: Great Lakes

    Greetings, I�m Cara Newsman your Combat Chronicler. In the news today I bring you an account of orcs. Nasty smelling orcs, all intent on beating their way into the fair city of Britain, cluttered the road and rambled through the trees. I was headed to Britain, after a visit to the Abbey in Yew, to do some research at the Library there when the sound of fighting came to my ears. It wasn�t long before I found what looked to be utter chaos in full swing at the Crossroads just west of the pass leading towards Britain. Pulling stylus and pad from my pack, I began to draw as fast as I could. Ettins, orcs, orc lords, orc mages, you name it, they were there.

The fighting ranged the entire length of the road and even moved northwards towards the city of Yew. At one point a large dragon joined the fray. Fortunately the beast was being controlled by someone and only blew its flames at the orcs. If you think orcs smell bad, try a whiff of one that�s been charbroiled.

A few folk seemed to have been caught unawares, but others must have been alerted to the dangers, for they were armed to the teeth. I picked my way over fallen orcish bodies, skirting the occasional group of live ones. Lightning rent the sky, as did bright cascades of meteor showers. Steel crunched into bone and metal rang on metal. No matter how many of the orcs fell, it seemed that two more sprang out of the trees to take their fallen kin�s place. The fighting seemed to drag on, as if time had slowed to watch this battle for the pass.

As the sun sank towards the horizon, the natural sounds of the woods began to return. The moans and groans of the wounded echoed through the trees and those with healing skills scurried around trying to help the fallen. One warrior brandished his sword in the air and gave a victory cry. The orcs had been beaten back; their attempt to take the western pass to Britain had been thwarted� this time.