Cut Off The Supplies

[Imperial]

Rosk's arms flapped as he struggled forward to his impromptu hiding spot, a small group of bushes piled around a fallen tree log. He had spent a good portion of the day darting back and forth between the two supply routes, setting up easy rockfalls and making potholes, all while trying to avoid any scouts or patrols that might go through.

The fatigued mercenary ran the possible scenarios through his head over and over. This job could get him on the path towards that big patch of land somewhere in the wilderness he had always dreamed of. A big house, animals to feed, just a peaceful existence of his own. Those nice, peaceful daydreams were suddenly cut short by the sudden explosion of combat coming from the bottom of the large hillock. "Guess some scouting parties ran into eachother." the Half-Orc thought to himself, hoping it might make his job easier.

His pitfalls were set along the two sidepaths leading up to Cathedral Hill, but he had left the main path 'somewhat' free of dangers to avoid being caught out in the open, as the road was fairly busy. By the sounds of it a group of Imperials and a group of Rangers must have taken the chance of using that main path at the same time. If he were lucky, they might just kill eachother off entirely, and he could take the credit for it, but he wasn't lucky so that probably wasn't the case.

The Half-Orc made his way in the direction of the noise, and sure enough a small group of Rangers were raining arrows down on a unit of Empire Soldiers. Rosk bent downwards to pick up a large stone, and heaved it at the Rangers below, hoping to smash one of their heads in. -CRACK- echoed through the surrounding forest, and it wasn't from any broken bones. Rosk's stone had broken one of the rangers' bows before clattering it's way below. Half-Orcs aren't exactly known for their subtlety after all, and to carry on that standard Rosk hopped down from his precipice and slid towards the scouting party, his hammer raised to strike and his shield up to deflect the inevitable blows.

[Imperial]

One of those Rangers must have been an Elf, because when Rosk's hammer struck his back, he snapped like a twig and crumpled into a heap, sliding down the steep incline of the hill they were positioned on. The other weren't so easy, as their blades trimmed a chunk of Rosk's beard off and tore a deep mark into his scale chestpiece. Two retaliating strikes from the Half-Orc were more than enough to bring down one of his two assailants though, a quick smack to the chin with the head of the hammer and a following upward swing knocked that Ranger down the hill to meet his comrade. Rosk's gaze turned to his remaining opponent, who admirably did not back down and thrusted his blade forward in an attempt to run the Half-Orc through.

No such luck would be had for him, as Rosk pushed the sword away with the face of his shield before bashing it into the Ranger's head, making him fall unconcious to the ground, his crossbow and sword clattering against the rocky surface. By this time, the four Imperial Soldiers that had been pinned down by the Rangers had taken notice of the fact that they had been unintentionally rescued. One of them piped up and said, "Are you one of the reinforcements?". Rosk slung his shield over his shoulder and leapt down from the perch, gripping the handle of his hammer with both hands as he began to approach the group of soldiers. Another one asked with a sign of uncertainty in his voice. "Well? Are you?". The Half-Orc didn't answer, but his pace picked up substantially and in seconds he was upon them.