A Few Slight... Misfortunes...

The Warrior riding hard up the hill for Marinelle caught the arrow in the flesh of his left shoulder, spinning him to the left. He screamed, turning for a moment sideways, then reached up, grabbed the shaft of the arrow, and snapped it off. He shouted something in Goblin tongue and the charge up the hill proceeded unhindered. Even the cloak thrown by the newest arrival, Poisonhook, fell on short of it's intended job. It folded in on itself as it flew and thumped uselessly in the dirt. The Goblins were confused, but otherwise unhindered by the action as they watched him disappear over the crest of the hill following the girl.

The biggest of the Warriors, the Goblin that was obviously the leader, watched the shit show that unfolded around him and smiled. They had walked into a thicket of soft fleshed humans. The girl on the hill, her friend, and now the girl that was hiding with the Orc-ish man in the high grass. If there was one thing that Goblins hated, it was Orcs, always thinking themselves superior to Goblins in every way. He watched amused as the girl gave away their position while the Orc tried to calm her down.

<-There!-> He shouted in Goblin tongue and gestured with his axe. <-And the hill! Get them all! The wombs for breeding, the meat for eating!->

There were more barks and snarls as the Goblins leapt into action. Another Warrior and three more Skirmishes started up the hill after the woman with the bow while two Warriors and six Skirmishers rushed for the grass, effectively dividing the caravan into three parts. The leader remained behind with an equally sized element to guard the slaves, who were now kneeling and frightened in the road.

"Run!" One of the caged women was shouting at the top of her lungs. "Run for all yur worth!"

No one had yet noticed Neesta fade seemlessly into the background...