Rush in shovel in hand

It’s not a great weapon but I have to help!

You sprint down the hill, the rough terrain assaults your feet as you run. You begin to huff and puff by the time you reach the edge of the orcish camp. Running between tents you try and get your bearings while taking in the surroundings. Many orcs rush about and you stay low and out of sight.

Coming over a small hill in the camp you look down upon a gruesome sight. Many dead orc warriors lay around a familiar corpse. A man in badly dented armor lays on the ground impaled through the head by his own pike. You can only barely suppress a yelp as the sight forever burrows itself into your mind.

Krest! No… If Krest is dead that means…