Trek to the river

The rest of that day passed uneventfully, as the small group walked through the forest, heading south-west. Sitting on Swift-Wind's shoulders made the journey surprisingly comfortable and her heaving bosom turned out to be enticing enough that he had to call halt twice to enjoy her mouth. The she-orc seemed content in her new role and remained silent.

As the sun was setting, Sky-Spear stopped them to confer with his new boss

"Master, the river isn't far. We could keep going as the moon and the stars will show us the way", the wizened orc explained.

Gizol nodded at him. He wasn't tired at all and the undead needed no rest anyway. While their pace slowed down, they were still progressing nicely.

The moon was still climbing higher when Gizol sensed danger. He cast a small scrying spell but could not identify anything more than a vague direction - but it confirmed his suspicion. Elves, with magical support, were tracking them.

"Swift-Wind, hurry up, I need to talk with Sky-Spear", Gizol whispered. The she-orc accelerated and effortlessly glided forward, reaching the old orc in just a few moments. He heard them coming and turned around.

"Sky-Spear, there are elves on our trail", Gizol told him. The old orc went pale but nodded.

"Relax, we're not going to die here. I'll send the zombies to engage them, that'll buy us some time and the river is near, right?"

The orc confirmed and Gizol continued:

"Yeah, so we'll just have to pick up the pace. We'll rush to the logging camp and steal a boat or something. If nothing else, we'll barricade with the humans, I doubt the elves will chase us farther than that - now go!"

The orc nodded, barked few orders to his fellows while Gizol issued the mental commands to the zombie-orcs, though he nearly lost control when Swift-Wind took up the run. There was no point in stealth as no-one could hide from elven senses on their home turf.

What followed was an unreal seeming two hours, as the orcs ran for their lives. They could hear the elves fighting with the zombies but - too quickly for comfort - Gizol sensed their unholy life forces to be snuffed out.

"Sky-Spear, all haste now!" He shouted and the orcs increased their pace even further, skeletons rambling on in their wake.

Then the forest opened up and they stumbled into an open logging field. The massive river glinted in the moonlight just ahead and the logging camp - six rough wooden huts - was nested next to it. Stockpiles of felled trees surrounded the huts.

"Quickly! Quickly!" Gizol urged the orcs who had stopped and the run was back on.

They were halfway across the field when the first arrows started to fall. One by one the orcs shrieked and fell, as the elven marksmen hunted them like rabbits. Finally, they turned the corner of a massive pile of tree trunks and rushed the courtyard between the buildings - but by then, only Sky-Spear and Swift-Wind were alive.

One door opened and a tall human walked outside with a lantern, no doubt curious about the ruckus. As he saw Sky-Spear running towards him, he shouted in alarm but then the old orc was upon him, piercing his belly with a spear and rushed inside. Swift-Wind quickly followed. As soon as they were inside, Gizol jumped down and ordered the door closed. All of his skeletons were still following, though several had arrows lodged between their bones.

Moments passed and Gizol readied himself to duel with the elven warlock but no threat appeared. It seems he was right and the elves were content to just drive them out of the forest. Instead of elves, lights came on in the other huts and several human lumberjacks, carrying axes, appeared. They were clearly alarmed and when they noticed the corpse of their friend, they started banging on the door.

Gizol took a quick look around - he hadn't planned on killing any humans here but things had gotten out of hand and he certainly was not going to let some illiterate lumberjack cleave his skull in half. The hut they were in was fairly small, just a single room perhaps twenty feet by thirty feet, with an iron stove in the middle. There was only one window and door. Several crates and barrels were stacked on one side of the hut, while the other had two cots - one empty and the other holding a woman. She had a blanket pulled up to her chin and kept silently staring at the intruders, her eyes large and round.

"Well, this is quite a pickle", Gizol mumbled to himself.