Meat Shields

I put the ogre war horn to my lips and blew.

The deep, brassy note rolled through the cavern like a dinner gong, echoing off the uneven stone and vibrating up through the soles of my boots. Then three hulking shapes came thundering out of the violet gloom like they’d been waiting just off-stage. Big, grey, and clearly hungry. The lead ogre skidded to a halt, nostrils flaring wide, and grinned with a mouth full of crooked yellow teeth. Scars criss-crossed his chest and arms, and his belly rumbled loud enough to compete with Karlach’s engine.

“What’s on today’s menu, cook?” he rumbled, eyes sliding straight to Karlach. He licked his lips with a loud, wet smack of pure hunger.

The other two ogres did the same, heads tilting as they sized her up like a walking roast. One of them actually rubbed his hands together with a greedy little chuckle.

I pointed past them, straight at the bulette still snarling in place, scales rattling as it focused its beady gaze on the new arrivals. “Right there, boys. Fresh brisket. Hard on the outside, but tender and juicy once you crack the shell. Smells like it’s been marinating in the dark for years. Best thing you’ll eat all month.”

The ogres stared at the armored landshark. One scratched his head with a thick finger. “That’s just a rock.”

The second ogre, the biggest of the three, squinted and scratched his chin with surprising thoughtfulness. “In truth, it doesn’t look too appetizing.”

“Trust me,” I said smoothly,. “Once you get through that shell, it’s all soft, bloody goodness inside. Go on. Dinner’s served.”

That was all the convincing they needed. With happy bellows the three ogres charged, clubs raised high, bellies rumbling. Their heavy feet pounded the stone, sending small tremors of their own through the ground.

Karlach grinned wide, axe already high above her head. “Hell yeah, my turn—”

I caught her by the shoulder before she could take a single step. “Hold.”

She blinked, engine giving an impatient thump. “Why? I wanna smash something!”

I just nodded toward the fight. “Watch.”

The first ogre slammed his club into the bulette’s flank with a meaty crunch that echoed through the area. The creature’s armored plates flared bright for a split second. A shockwave of raw **** and shedding scales exploded outward, slamming all three ogres back a good ten feet. They staggered, but stayed on their feet.

Karlach’s eyes widened. “Hells! That would’ve launched me clean across the cavern!”

The ogres laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever felt. One of them slapped his knee hard enough to make the sound crack like a whip.

“That’s a big fart,” the first grunted, still chuckling.

“But it don’t stink no good!” The third ogre mocked, clearly unimpressed.

They lumbered forward again, completely unfazed by the Bulette’s infamous attack.

Karlach glanced at me, still gripping her axe hard enough that the leather creaked. “So what do we do then, boss?”

I smirked. “You have a bow, don’t you?”

Her face lit up like I’d just handed her a birthday cake made of explosions. “Oh yeah! Haha!” In one motion she slung the axe over her shoulder and pulled the Titanstring Bow off her back, loaded and ready. The arrow boomed like a gunshot when she let it fly. The shaft punched into the bulette’s shoulder with a heavy thunk, drawing a thin line of dark blood.

“I’ll see to the others!” Shadowheart yelled, already running toward the downed Kagha and Lae’zel, healing magic already forming at her fingertips.

“Use your sword!” I called out sharply. “Shriek!”

Shadowheart paused mid-step, then her eyes lit up. “Oh. Of course. SHRIEK!”

She raised Phalar Aluve with both hands. The blade thrummed—a horrible, teeth-rattling sound that built into a focused, piercing wail. The noise honed in and concentrated entirely on the bulette. The creature’s head snapped back as if slapped, and it let out a high, whining keen that echoed off the cavern walls.

The ogres didn’t miss the opening. Their clubs came down again, each impact now resonating with deep thunderous booms. The sound waves rippled visibly through the air, cracking the bulette’s armored plates wider with every strike. The landshark thrashed, plates splintering under the combined ****.

The bulette retaliated with savage speed. It lunged and bit down on the lead ogre’s arm, jaws shearing through muscle and bone in one wet rip. The ogre screamed but kept swinging with his free hand, club hammering down even as the creature shook him like a rag doll.

Karlach was already knocking another arrow. The Titanstring cracked again. This one slammed straight into the side of Bulette’s head. “Bulett’s eye!” she whooped.

Even amidst the noise of battle I could hear Shadowheart groan.

I thrust my hand forward and fired three Eldritch Blasts in quick succession. Two of the hits drove straight off its skin, but the third landed with the same violent noise as the ogres’ clubs. The familiar runes on the Spellsparkler came to life as the third blast had hit its target.

The bulette killed the first ogre with a brutal snap of its jaws, the sound wet and final. The other two continued unfazed. They kept swinging, blood sprayed across the moss in wide arcs, their roars mixing with the constant thunder from Phalar Aluve’s Shriek and the clang of club on stone.

I loosed three more Eldritch Blasts. This time all of them hit. A lightning bolt struck the bulette from above and grounded through its four stubby legs. Karlach fired again and again, the Titanstring Bow turning each arrow effectively into a hurled spear. Lae’zel, still **** a few paces away, began to stir as Shadowheart had reached her. The cleric poured cool healing light over the Githyanki warrior, knitting the worst of the impact damage. Lae’zel’s eyes snapped open. She studied the battlefield for a single sharp moment, then switched to her Giantbreaker crossbow. She gave Shadowheart a single sharp nod and began firing bolts alongside Karlach’s arrows and my blasts.

The bulette crushed the second ogre under its weight with a sickening crunch, the stone beneath it cracking from the impact.

Shadowheart moved on to Kagha next. She knelt beside the wood elf and let her healing wash across her form, knitting bruises and easing the worst of the damage. Kagha stirred and pushed herself up, spidersilk still dusty from the impact. She glanced at the fight, recognized the ranged tactics, and lifted one elegant hand. Her own Eldritch Blast crackled out from her fingertips and chipped away at the bulette’s flank, adding another small thread to the growing web of damage.

One final barrage poured in. I sent another trio of Eldritch Blasts straight into the creature’s open maw. Karlach’s booming arrows punched deep into its neck. Lae’zel’s crossbow bolts found every gap in the armor. Kagha’s crackling shots chipped away at the already fractured plates. The landshark staggered, plates splintering with audible cracks, and finally crumpled to the stone with a heavy, wet thud that shook the ground one last time.

The last ogre, bleeding from a dozen wounds and barely standing, turned toward us with a bloody grin. “Meat is back on the men—”

SPLAT!

Kagha’s Eldritch Blast took him clean through the head before he could finish. He dropped like a sack of rocks, club clattering beside him.

We all stared at her for a long second.

Kagha simply dusted off her clothes and gave a small, easy shrug. “I required the kill for my Sanguine Blade.”

The rapier in her hand pulsed once with fresh red light, the second charge activating with a faint crimson glow that ran along the edge like fresh blood.

Karlach let out a loud guffaw, fangs flashing, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Hah! Serves him right. Nasty fucker!”

Lae’zel gave a tired, approving grunt as she lowered her crossbow. “Waste nothing.”

Shadowheart tucked a braid behind her ear, glancing at the spent war horn still in my hand. “But now that horn is useless?”

I let a small smirk tug at my mouth. “We’re adventurers, not collectors. If we don't use our trinkets they’ll just take up space and weigh us down in the long run—Even if we use Karlach as mule.”

Karlach turned at the mention of her name, a wicked grin splitting her face, then bent forward and gave her muscular rear a firm smack, making it bounce. “One Ass reporting for duty!”

Shadowheart’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile and then glanced over at the three very dead ogres and added dryly, “At least they won’t come back to bite us in the ass...”

[Experience gained]