She turns back and shakes her head with a shrug. “Looks all clear,” she whispers to her partner. He nods in agreement and then leaves the cover of the wall. Walking in front of the bonfire, he stands tall and waves both arms above his head, signaling the others that it is 'all clear' and safe to cross.
The back-lighting of the fire makes it easy for the others to see him, but it also makes it easy for a goblin archer to pick him out. A bolt flies too fast to spot, but the dull bang of it passing through Jesse's armor and the meaty thud of it tunneling through flesh is clearly heard.
“Oh, bloody hell.” With a curious look, Jesse glances over his shoulder and stares at the fletching with bemusement. The bolt sticking out from his right shoulder at a downward angle, he slumps to his knees. Slowly and carefully, he takes the pistol from his own right hand and tosses it over to Olivia. “Here, Lass. I fear I cannot use it myself just now.”
She catches it on the fly and disappears behind the stockade wall. Pistol raised in front of her, she rounds the corner and races up the crude staircase leading to the top of the wall.
Gun barrel leading, she dashes up to the walkway and fires two quick shots. The heavy gun bucks in her hand as the reports thunder across the walkway. The first misses, the second catches the goblin as he's struggling to reload his crossbow. Its thin chest implodes, and the body flies off the wall, screaming until it impacts with the ground.
A furtive movement in the shadows causes her to fire another two rounds. She’s rewarded by a hiss of pain and another body falling. It lands, motionless, in front of her, so she kicks it hard in the skull, just to make sure. Then she spins around to cover the rest of the wall. No other targets present themselves as the sounds of the black-powder shots echo and fade. Olivia glances over the barrier just in time to see the rest of the group reach the entrance to the cavern. They grab Jesse and drag him to cover at the base of the stockade.
Urgent voices argue back and forth for a moment until Thorn ends it with a harsh word. “Poison!”
She holds up a bolt taken from the dead goblin's quiver. A black smear glistens in the firelight. “Get his armor off, quickly!”
Haynes and Des work to undo the straps holding the breastplate to the pauldrons on the shoulder. Des carefully snaps the bolt off and lifts the armor plate over the stub.
The petite elf grabs Jesse's shirt and tears it away from the wound, careful not to jostle the arrow. “The wound is shallow; the bolt lies above the bone. I can remove it easily with a sharp blade, but the flesh and muscle already fester with poison and rot!”
“Well, just heal it, and let’s go already!” snaps Vince as he scans the field.
“I can heal the wound easily enough, you dolt. It is the poison that will take a lot more work. I cannot neutralize it with magic alone, I must have time to fashion a poultice and an elixir if he is to have a chance.”
Haynes looks up at the moon. “I don't think we have that kind of time right now. The moon is almost set. Can you stabilize him for now?”
She thinks for a moment. “I can isolate and hold the poison for a time, but it must be removed and neutralized before he can be healed. It is foreign matter. It will only fester and spread until it is all removed. But I will be able to hold it briefly, perhaps an hour or two, but no more. Toxins are tricky and elusive.”
“Okay, do what you can, quickly for now, and finish it on the other side. Everyone, spread out and cover the area until she's done.”
Olivia rejoins the group and kneels next to Jesse. Without a word, she pulls his satchel off his shoulder and begins rummaging through it. A moment later, she is reloading the pistol with fresh powder and bullets.
Thorn concentrates and begins chanting. With one finger, she draws intricate sigils on Jesse's chest. Each stroke of her finger leaves a faint glowing silver line. Every time she repeats it, the glow grows brighter and more solid.
Jimmy points out into the field. “Movement to the left! I can't make it out though.”
Vince steps up and fires an arrow. A surprised yelp echoes across the field, followed by an angry growl.
“Stand down, Vince! Hold your fire; it’s the Gnolls!” Haynes calls out, seeing their fellows returning.
“Oh, shit, I didn't know!”
The Gnolls enter the circle of light, crouched on all fours, moving more like hunting dogs than as men. Nian stalks up to Vince, four sets of claws digging gouges in the dirt. Teeth bared, he stands up tall and close to the bowman, noses almost touching. Looking down into Vince's eyes, he issues a low, soft growl. Vince stands frozen in place but gets knocked back a few steps when the annoyed Gnoll thrusts the arrow sideways back at Vince. “You missed, human.”
“Break it up," Haynes tries to de-escalate the moment before any more unnecessary violence happens. "Nian, report?”
Nian holds his stare for another few heartbeats, then says, “We lost his trail after he was separated from his horse. The smell of fire and burning masked all other scents. The ground was trampled by too many dragons; the stench of
