What an odd party thought the wagons owner, A greying Dwarf from the East, he often came to the West to trade. His name was Tor and he was well known amongst the Merchant Guilds of the Five Counties under the Protection of his Lord, Duke Von Drago, Master of the West Vale.
Despite being well known, the wagon and its party were caught off guard as arrows whistled into the night and struck down one of the mules and also wounding Tor.
"DEATH !" screamed high pitched voices in the dark.
Howls and war chants rang out as more arrows hit the wagons canvas.
" Out! Now !" Yelled Helga at her younger companions as she unhooked the warhammer from her back sling.
" Goblins no doubt." muttered Grom, his axe gripped firmly, ready for combat.
The two younglings, scrambled for cover behind the wagons wheels, Skelebone unsheathing his fathers scimitar as he yelled a battle cry of the Southlands.
Helga and Grom fought side by side as the enemy was amongst them. Skulls were smashed and limbs hacked and mangled as the Goblins did their best to overwhelm their prey.
But it was not so. The mighty barbarian and the Dwarf warrior were well versed in battle and the wild mob of Goblins was no match for axe and warhammer.
Even Skelebone and the Eyepatch Kid managed to fend off their attackers, killing a few smaller Goblins as the ran off in disarray.
As the Crossroads dust settled and the Goblins long fled into the Wolf Woood, The Eyepatch Kid comforted old Tor.
" Thank you, young one. Please, take me to Shempsburg. I have friends there that can help you and heal me, for I believe this arrow to be poisoned." Tor groaned.
" You can count on us!" Skelebone piped in as he took the reigns of the wagon mule and waved the party to climb aboard.
As they began North, Grom looked back to the horizon, making note of the Horseman who watched them.
" So it begins, he spat." Raising his axe to taunt the Horseman.