Chapter 22 Chapter 18: The Meeting of Footsteps and Smoke

The four partners found that winter was waiting for them not far north of Luskan. Wearing layers of fur, and living in the barren Icewind Dale for many years, made their lives tenacious and unaffected by the cold environment. Too much trouble.In some places the snow was deep, in others the roads were icy, but the group moved slowly.Bruenor led Catti-brie and Regis through his muscular body, with Drizzt guiding them.For such a season and rough terrain, their progress was fast, but of course Bruno could find reasons to complain. "Damn elf, scurrying around and not breaking the ice!" he muttered, crunching through a snowdrift that was over his waist as Drizzt walked along the cedar The crisp surface jumps, half slides, half runs. "You should tell him to eat more, and let his skinny limbs grow more flesh!"

Catti-brie just smiled behind the dwarf.She knew, and Bruno knew, that Drizzt's strength lay more in balance than strength.The drow knows how to distribute its weight perfectly, and, because he is always in balance, can always shift his weight to the other foot instantly when he feels the snow crumbling under his feet.Catti-brie was about Drizzt's weight, if not a little lighter, but she couldn't move like him Because Drizzt was on top of the snow, not wading through it, he had a good vantage point to see the undulating white ground around him.He noticed a track not far away—a recent track, where someone or something had waded through the snow just as Bruno was doing.

"Stop!" the drow yelled.As he spoke, Drizzt noticed another strange sight, smoke rising ahead, some distance away, in a thin line that seemed to come from a chimney.He only considered it for a moment, then looked back at the track, which seemed to be heading roughly in that direction.He wondered if the two were connected for some reason.Maybe a trapper's house, or a hermit Thinking that his friends might all need a little rest, Drizzt made his way quickly down that track.It had been almost ten days since they left Luskan, and only twice had they found good shelter, one the night before in a farm and the other in a cave

Drizzt gave up hope for shelter when he reached the track line in the snow and saw some footprints, twice his own size. "What did you find, Elf?" Bruno called Drizzt gestured for silence and told them to come over to his side. "Maybe a big orc," he pointed out when they were all there. "Or a little ogre." "Or savages," Bruno pointed out. "These guys have the biggest feet I've ever seen on a human being." Drizzt scrutinized a distinct footprint, bending down to bring his eyes within inches of it.He shook his head. "These are too deep, and the people who made the footprints were wearing stiff boots, not the moccasins Wulfgar wear," he explained.

"That's the ogre," said Catti-brie. "Or a big orc." "There are many of these hills," interjected Regis "And to the smoke," Drizzt explained, pointing to the column of smoke "Maybe it's the smoke from their kind," Bruno reasoned.The dwarf turned to Regis, grinning with a contorted face. "Go there, glutton." Regis thought differently, and at this point he thought maybe he had done too well in that orc camp the last time he and Bruenor were on their way to Luskan.The halfling didn't hate his duties, but if these were ogres he was far from a match.And Regis knew that halflings were one of the ogre's favorite foods.

When Regis recovered from his contemplation, he noticed that Drizzt was looking at him, smiling understandingly, as if he read the halfling's every thought "This is not Regis' task," said the dark elf. "He did it on the road to Luskan," Bruno protested. "And it's done well." "But not in snow like this," Drizzt replied. "No thief can find a suitable shadow in the whiteness. No, let's go together and see what kind of friend or enemy we may find." "What if they're ogres?" Catti-brie asked. "Do you think we need a fight?"

Drizzt's expression made it clear that this was not an unpleasant thought, but he shook his head. “If they leave us alone, we better leave them alone,” he said. "But let's see what we might find—maybe we can find shelter for the night, and good food." Drizzt stepped aside, taking a slight lead, and Bruno led the team along the drawn track.The dwarf drew his great axe, and struck the hand that held the shield with the handle, and straightened the one-horned helm, so that it was fastened upon the head, and ready for battle.Behind him, Catti-brie put an arrow on Taumriel and tried to pull it.

If these were ogres or orcs, and they happened to build a decent cover, Catti-brie had every hope of taking that cover as early as possible before night fell.She knew Bruenor Warhammer too well to know that a dwarf would never give up a fight with any such beast and walk away "Go get some firewood," Dunbago yelled at his brother Jedis.He pushed the young man towards the pylon door. "If you don't get it, we'll all be freezing tomorrow morning!" "Yes, I know," the younger soldier muttered, running a hand through his greasy hair to scratch at the lice. "Damn the weather. It shouldn't be this cold."

The other two soldiers in the tower murmured agreement.Winter came violently and prematurely to the Spine of the World with a cold wind that cut right into the improvised stone tower fortress, stinging the soldiers.There was a fire in their stove too, but it was getting weaker, and they didn't have enough wood to support it overnight.But plenty can be found around, so none of them worry "If you help me, we'll get enough to make it flourish," Jadis said, but Dunbago muttered that it was his turn to stand guard at the top of the tower, just as Jadis started walking out the door , he went to the stairs

A gust of wind howled in through the open door, propelling Dunbago up to the second floor, where he saw two other soldiers from this outlying post "Well, who's on top?" Dunbargo asked sharply. "Nobody," replied one of the two, climbing up the ladder that led from the center of the circular floor to the roof. "The trapdoor is frozen." Muttering, Dunbago stepped to the bottom of the ladder and watched his fellow outpost slam the metal trapdoor.It took them a while to break through the ice.Jadis was stooping to gather firewood about thirty feet from the tower gate, unaware that the lumbering ogre stepped out from behind a tree, and the ogre smashed his skull with a single blow from a heavy club. .Dunbargo was not on the roof at this time, so there was no need to watch this scene helplessly

Jedis fell without a sound, his attacker dragging him out of sight.The brute who was tossing around behind the tower made a little noise as it hurled a grabber attached to a heavy rope over the edge of the tower's top, but the noise was drowned out by the banging on the metal trapdoor. Before Dunbargo and his companions could break open the door, the half-ogre grabbed the knotty rope with his strong hands, walked straight up the nearly thirty-foot-high tower wall, and pulled himself onto the roof. Just as the door was knocked open and Dunbargo crawled out, the brut turned and reached for the big ax strapped to his back. With a growl, the half-ogre leaped at him, but only tossed him aside.Luck followed Dunbargo, and the half-ogre's ax got stuck in the heavy door bumper.But he still flew out, landed heavily on the tower's mouth, and was suddenly suffocated. As his companion climbed onto the roof, Dunbago was so out of breath that he couldn't even shout a warning.The half-ogre drew its axe. Dunbargo flinched, grimacing as the brut nearly split his companion in half.Dunbago drew his sword, forced himself to his feet and charged forward.As he approached the fellow, he saw his companion, his friend, halfway through the trapdoor, struggling for the last moments of his life, and he let anger be his guide.A seasoned fighter, Dombago did not let the sight stop him from acting recklessly.He approached rhythmically, swift and furious, delivering what appeared to be a wild blow, then retracting his sword just in time for the half-ogre's powerful parry to roar past without touching anything. Now Dombago was thrusting toward him, and then another thrust, driving the half-ogre back and slitting open its stomach. Howling, the half-ogre tried to back away, but stumbled on the slippery stone and fell hard. Dunbargo leaped forward to meet him, and at the same time slashed violently, but just as his sword fell, the half-ogre's huge leg kicked up and caught him squarely, kicking him out and flipping him. somersault.Yet his attack hit, and the wounded half-ogre had to struggle to regain his footing. Before that, Dunbago came, stabbing and chopping.From time to time his eyes shifted from the target to the dead friend, letting anger drive him on.Just as the ogre attacked, he cut deeply with his sword.However, in the attacking stance, he couldn't dodge aside, and was taken away by the terrible ax.Then he took a blow to the face that shattered his nose, cracked bones in both cheeks, and sent him sliding backwards, slamming into the wall.He sat there and told himself he had to shake those black dots out of his eyes, he had to get up and put himself in a defensive position, that the brute was approaching and he was going to be smashed and split open. A howl came from deep in his belly, and a dizzy, bleeding Dombago forced himself to his feet, his sword in front of him, pitifully trying to defend against the death blow he knew would come. But the half-ogre did not come.It stood there, rather on one knee, by the open trapdoor, clutching at its stomach, choking its bowels, the expression on its ugly face was pure doubt and fear. Not wanting to wait for the beast to judge whether the wound was fatal, Dunbago charged from the other side of the tower, slashing his sword repeatedly at the half-ogre's upraised arm.When the arm was finally knocked aside, he continued to punch with every ounce of strength and strength, motivated by the sight of his dead companion again, and by the sudden worry that his brother— his brother! With a yell, Dunbago struck hard, smashing the beast's head and smashing it flat on the stone floor.The half-ogre had long since stopped moving, but he kept pounding, turning its ugly head into a meat paste. He then stood up and staggered to the open door, trying to pull his cleaved friend fully out.Dunbargo was unsuccessful, but had to push the man in, hold him, and keep his center of gravity as low as possible so that the shock of the broken body would not be too violent when it fell. Putting aside his fear and tears, Dunbago called for others to guard the tower and to find his brother. But he heard the sound of fighting from below and knew no one had heard him. Unable to rush down to join them, Dunbago considered other options, worrying that some other brut might be climbing up behind him. He was about to turn away from the trapdoor and stop looking at his dead friend in the room below, but he stopped because he saw another soldier rushing up the stairs and onto the edge of the second floor. "Ogre!" the man yelled, stumbling to the ladder.He had almost reached the bottom of the ladder frame, but then a half-ogre appeared on the landing behind him, throwing a grappling hook attached to a chain.The grapple hooked around the man's shoulder just as he grabbed the ladder frame. Dembago yelled to go down to him, but the half-ogre only gave a tug, so great that no man could reach it, and the man was dragged off the ladder so quickly and relentlessly that Dembago Had to convince myself he didn't just disappear out of thin air. Or at least part of him was gone, because underneath, still gripping the ladder frame, was the man's severed arm. Dunbargo looked towards the landing just in time to see the half-ogre knock the man to the stone floor just as he was dying.Then the brut looked up at Dunbago and smiled evilly A battered Dunbago rolled away from the trapdoor and quickly closed the metal cover to shut it dead before rolling onto it, using his body as a deadbolt. His glimpse of a dead ogre atop the tower reminded him of the weak link here.Hearing no sound below except for the sound of fighting in the distance, Dunbago sprang to his feet, ran to the rear edge of the tower, and pulled the grapple.He dashed back with the grappling hook to block the trapdoor, where he pulled the rope up the side of the tower. After a while, he felt the first shock below, making the teeth in his mouth chatter like thunder. Drizzt noticed that the tower door was slightly open, and also noticed dark red marks on the snow near some trees not far away.Then he heard a cry from the top of the tower. He gestured to his friends to be on the alert and ready, then sprinted aside, weaving around the side of the tower, trying to understand what was going on here and the best position to join the fight. Catti-brie and Bruenor remained in the trail left by the ogre, but moved more carefully since then, gesturing toward Drizzt.To the surprise of the drow, Regis did not stay with either of them.The halfling sprinted to the left, weaving around to the other side of the tower.He waded through the snow, and finally reached a patch of weathered stone, sprinting from one shadow to the next, ducking low and moving swiftly around the back. Drizzt couldn't help chuckling, thinking that Regis was routinely trying to find a hiding place to stay out of the way. The smile faded almost immediately, however, as the drow realized that the danger was imminent, and that the battle was in fact already in progress.He saw a man, bloodstained on his coat and face, rush out of the open tower door, and rush aside, screaming for help. He was pursued by a hulking figure, a gigantic, hideous ogre with its bloodstained club held aloft. The man was a few steps ahead, but Drizzt knew it wouldn't last long in this deep snow.The Ogre's longer, more powerful legs would quickly close the gap, and that stick... Drizzt turned away from the tower and went after the two of them.He managed to gesture to Bruenor and Catti-brie, telling them of his intentions and instructing them that they should continue towards the Tower.He kept running, his light steps keeping him above the snow. Drizzt feared at first that the ogre would overtake the fleeing man first, but the man sped up, hurtling over the edge of a ridge and stumbling down the snow. The ogre stopped on the ridge, and Drizzt called out.The brut seemed happy to turn around and engage a new challenger.Of course, the wistful gleam in the ogre's eyes faded when he realized the latest challenger wasn't another human, but a drow, and the awkward smile turned into a genuinely startled expression. Drizzt rushed forward, his scimitar flying, hoping to kill him quickly.He was then able to tend to the injured and was able to return to the tower to help friends. But this brut is no ordinary ogre.It was a seasoned warrior, nine feet tall in muscle and bone, and capable of wielding a heavy, spiked club with astonishing agility. Drizzt's eagerness almost cost him dearly, for as he came up, the blades arced in opposite directions, and the quick-footed ogre stepped back, just out of range, and sent its The wooden stick swept across vigorously, and took away a machete along with it.If he dropped it, it might never be found in the deep snow. Not only did Drizzt keep the second knife in his right hand out of the way of the previous blow, but he managed to stab the ogre in the flailing forearm, causing it to bleed.Yet the brut took the stab so that its real attack could penetrate.Immediately following the sweep of the wooden stick, it lifted a heavy leg, kicked it hard, and kicked Drizzt on the shoulder, sending him into the air, spinning and flying more than ten feet, and falling on the snow. That's when the drow realized his mistake, and he could only recover from it quickly by making it in the open.If he had been kicked like this in the tower, he knew that maybe he was no better than a puddle of red stains on the stone wall now. They saw the drow gesture, but neither Bruenor nor Catti-brie was going to let Drizzt go after the ogre—until they heard a call for help from the tower. A wail, the two of them had never heard such a sympathetic scream. "Let your damned arrows go above my head!" Bruenor shouted to his daughter, and the dwarf lowered his shoulders and continued walking towards the pylon door, gradually gaining speed, momentum and fury. Catti-brie struggled to keep up, and just a few feet later, Taumriel was held flat in her hands, readying herself. There was no concealment or silence in the dwarf's charge. It was conceivable that Bruno met another lumbering figure at the door.The dwarf's ax struck hard.Catti-brie's arrow went into the brut's chest.With these two blows, combined with the momentum of the strong dwarf, Bruenor crashed into the main area at the bottom of the tower. The opponent, a half-ogre, and a strong one at that, was not yet killed, and was able to counterattack with the club, returning a powerful blow to Bruenor's shoulder. "You should hit harder!" growled the dwarf, though the blow hurt. Although it hurt, Bruno smiled and swung the axe.The half-ogre staggered out of reach, but stepped forward again to strike back a bit too soon.Bruenor backhanded it, and the back of the ax caught it in the ribs, neutralizing its momentum and stopping its intended attack. The half-ogre staggered a few times, giving Bruenor time to get his feet on his feet, and struck again.The next blow came not from the back of the axe, but from the notched, jagged blade, and this time it struck the half-ogre's already battered chest. Before Bruenor could celebrate the apparent victory, however, a second half-ogre leaped from the landing, bumped into his mortally wounded companion, and they both fell on top of Bruenor, burying the dwarf in the Underneath nearly a ton of flesh and bones. The dwarf needed Catti-brie desperately at this moment, but a cry from above told him that maybe someone else needed it too. Regis, listening intently from the back of the tower near the base of the wall, heard Bruenor's charge.Yet he was in no hurry to go to the aid of the dwarf, for Bruenor's tactics were straightforward strength against strength, blows for blows.Joining the battle against the ogres with such a strategy, Regis couldn't survive the first blow. A cry from above unnerved the halfling.He began to climb, picking a landing point among the cold and cracked stones, and gradually ascended.Halfway through the climb, his poor fingers were frayed and bleeding, but he continued with incredible agility, catching the landings expertly and approaching the top. He heard a shout and a thud, then some heavy scuffling.He nearly slipped as he was going full speed up, but caught himself at the last moment - more than a little luck. Finally he put his hand on the lip of the tower's top and peered over.What he saw almost made him want to jump straight out. Poor Dunbago yelled repeatedly, just trying to keep the door closed, to close his eyes, and hope that all this fear would go away.He is a seasoned fighter who has seen battles and lost many friends. But not his brother. He knew very well that Jedis was down, and probably dead. He knew very well that the tower had fallen and he had nowhere to escape.Maybe just laying there long enough, blocking the trapdoor with your body, and the rough ones will walk away.After all, he knew that ogres were not known for persistence or cunning. At least most aren't. Dunbargo barely noticed the heat at first, though he did smell the burning leather.He didn't understand—until a sudden sharp pain hit his back.He rolled reflexively, but stopped immediately, realizing that he had to keep the door closed. He tried to return to his original position, but the metal was hot - too hot! The ogre below must be heating it with a torch. Dunbargo jumped on the door, hoping his boots would keep the heat out.As one of his companions ran out of the tower he heard a scream, and a moment later a roar from the main entrance below. He was jumping, his boots were smoking.He looked frantically around for something to put on the door, maybe a loose stone in the crenel. He flew out when an ogre below slammed the door hard.Before Dembago could get up, the second impact knocked the door open.A brutish fellow came through with startling speed, apparently being pushed onto the roof by his companions. Ripples of pain still crept across Dombago's shattered face, but he sprang to his feet immediately, furiously into the fray, thinking of his brother with every frantic attack.He hit the ogre a couple of times, and the ogre seemed genuinely stunned by his rage, but its companions stepped up to its side.Two wooden sticks were thrown at him back and forth. He dodged left and right, not trying to parry the blows that were too powerful, and his reckless attacking stance enabled him to stab the first ogre again so hard that it lay flat on the stone floor. Dunbago was shot in the back, his sword flew, and before he even realized what was happening, the brave fighter felt a strong hand grab his ankle. In an instant, he was suspended in the air, hanging upside down from the end of a powerful ogre arm. Drizzt rolled through the snow, and instead of struggling to stop the momentum, it fueled it, allowing the ogre's kick to kick him as far away as possible from the fearsome opponent.He needs to stand firmly against the ogre, gauge the situation better, and bring this fight back to something more recognizable.He believed that the mere underestimation of his opponent had cost him, and he believed that he had made a huge mistake when he was hit. When he finally curled his legs and began to stand, he was startled to find that the ogre had followed him, and was now charging forward to launch another violent attack. The brut was moving too fast—much more than Drizzt expected for his lumbering brethren, and Drizzt was no novice at battling ogres. The stick swung over and hit the lower left, forcing the drow to hide to the right.The ogre stopped swinging quickly, raised the club upwards, held it up with both hands like chopping wood, and struck straight down towards Drizzt's new position, with more force than was possible at Drizzt's stature. It is expected to block or even deflect. Drizzt rolled over to the left, stood up, faced sideways, and backed away with a quick run, putting some distance between himself and the brut.Afterwards, he turned around, anticipating that this surprising foe was upon him again. This time, however, the ogre stayed put.Grinning as he watched Drizzt, he pulled a ceramic vial from his belt - which Drizzt noticed already had several empty rings - and dropped it in his mouth, chewing Hold on to drink the potion inside. Almost immediately, the ogre's arms began to swell with increased strength, that of mighty colossus. Drizzt felt better now that he had figured out the answer to the riddle.Apparently the ogre had already drank the speed potion, and now the strength potion, and probably other potions that enhance magic.Now that the drow understood, he could estimate more accurately. Drizzt regretted that Guenhwyvar had been with him the night before, having now exhausted the statue's magic.He can't summon the panther right now, and now he seems to need help. The ogre rushed up, smashing the club around, howling furiously, expecting a happy kill.Drizzt had to bow to his edge, or the ogre's victory would come soon. But now Drizzt had a plan.The ogre moved faster than usual, sending the club out with great force, and with great and often unstoppable momentum.Perhaps Drizzt could use this against the beast, use misdirection to keep the ogre off balance and open. The drow stepped forward, slipped aside—or so it seemed—and then snapped back, lunging forward, slashing the ogre solidly in the leg as he dashed by. He continued to charge forward, then turned to face the enemy, expecting to see bright red blood near the severed leg. The ogre barely bled, as if something other than its skin absorbed most of the scimitar's effective strikes. Drizzt's mind spun rapidly, considering various possibilities.He had heard that there were potions that could do these things, providing varying degrees of combat enhancement. "Ah, Kwan," the drow said regretfully, for he knew he was facing an uphill battle. The dwarf wondered if he was going to suffocate to death under the weight of the two heavy bodies, especially the lifeless weight of the ogre he had defeated.He squirmed, kicked his legs, and then tried to find a stable foothold, pushing forward with all his strength, his short and knotted muscles tensed powerfully. He poked his head out from under the dead ogre's buttocks, but had to dodge back down immediately, because the second brut was still lying on top of the dead one, grabbing a hand from it and slapping the dwarf. The ogre's hand groped underneath for the dwarf, and Bruenor's own arms were still pinned down to the sides, unable to resist the grab. So instead he bit the hand, took it like an angry dog, gnashed his teeth, and crunched the brute's knuckles. The half-ogre howled and pulled back his hand, but the dwarf's powerful jaw remained tightly shut.Bruno held on fiercely.The brut scrambled off his dead companion, twisting for a little balance, then lifted the dead ogre by the hips and tugged hard, pulling the dwarf out and attaching itself to the front of its arm. The ogre slapped the dwarf with its other arm, but once free, Bruenor didn't hesitate.He grabbed the bound forearm, still biting hard, and turned straight around behind the half-ogre, twisting the arm. "Get one for you!" cried the dwarf, letting go at last, for now he had knocked the half-ogre off balance, momentarily helpless, and was facing the open door.Bruno pushed hard, forcing the brut to move quickly.With a jerk, the dwarf pushed the ogre toward the door, right out the door. There it met Catti-brie's arrow and caught it in the chest. The half-ogre stumbled back, or started to back off, because as soon as Bruenor pushed the thing away, he backed up a few quick steps, rubbing his heavy boots against the rocks for momentum, and lunged forward, when the half-ogre As the ogre staggered back, he leapt and slammed into the brut's low back. It staggered out the door, and another arrow landed hard in the chest. It knelt down and grasped the two arrow shafts with trembling hands. Catti-brie shot at it again, right in the face. "There's more on the stairs!" Bruno called to her. "Quick, daughter, I need you!" Catti-brie was about to move forward, ready to charge past the ogre it had just knocked down, when another call came from above.She looked up to see a squirming, wailing figure hanging over the edge of the tower, a huge half-ogre clutching his ankle. Taumariel pointed upwards, aiming at the ogre's face, because Catti-brie decided that the man would probably survive falling into the snow, which was quite deep on the side of the tower, but she also knew what was going on to catch him. In the hands of the guy, he has no chance of surviving. But the half-ogre saw her too, sneered wickedly, and raised its own weapon—a gigantic wooden club—for a blow that would surely smash the wriggling man to pieces. . Catti-brie called out reflexively. Back at the top of the tower, Regis heard the shout.He looked that way, knowing that the poor soldier was in a dangerous predicament.But the Halfling couldn't make it to the brut in time, and even if he did, what could he and his little mace do with the massive monster? The second half-ogre, the one wounded by the soldier's valiant fight but not fallen, sprang into action again, joining his companions.It dashed across the top of the tower, not noticing the halfling peering over the edge. Purely on instinct—if he thought about it, the half-body was more likely to just faint out of fear than act—Regis pulled himself over the edge and lurched forward, half running, half He fell, slipping right into the crotch of the running half-ogre, between the heel of the striding leg and the toe of the dragging leg. The brut stumbled, and as he wobbled forward, he slammed into the poor halfling, kicking Regis briefly into the air. The half-ogre lost control, and under the momentum, he slammed headfirst into his companion's broad back. Catti-brie knew she had no choice but to risk an arrow, as she had done to the pirate who captured Delly at Deudermont's house. The half-ogre obviously saw it right, delaying swinging the club at the man, dodging back instead, the arrow skimming harmlessly through the air in front of it. Catti-brie flinched, thinking the man must be doomed.Before she could reach for the second arrow, however, the half-ogre suddenly leaned forward over the edge of the tower.It let go of the man, who fell screaming into the snow.It too went over the edge, its hands flailing helplessly. The battered halfling, out of breath and with badly injured ribs, struggled to his feet to face the half-ogre he had tripped over, just as the brut turned around looked at him menacingly.Its appearance is purely menacing, portending a terrible death. It roared and took a big step towards the halfling. Regis considered his mace, pointless to the half-ogre's enormous size and strength, and dropped it to the ground with a sigh.The halfling tugged on his hood, turned and ran towards the back of the tower, shouting loudly with every step.It knows what it's like to fall over the edge.It was a full thirty feet high, and the back of the tower, unlike the front, was weathered stone with little to no snow. Despite this, the half-length entry did not slow down.He jumped up and over the edge.The half-ogre roared wildly, took every step, and rushed after it without stopping. Bruenor was on low ground as he charged at the half-ogre standing on the curved staircase, which turned out to be his advantage.The brute slammed the club straight down on the dwarf, but Bruenor raised his fine shield - embellished with the emblem of the Warhammer clan, and a bubbling beer mug - over his head, perfectly regulated Good angle.The dwarves are strong enough to take and deflect the blow. The half-ogre was not as lucky as his opponent, and a powerful sweep of Bruenor's fine ax tore its ankle, slashing at the bone and sinking a deep gash.Howling in pain, the half-ogre reflexively reached for the severed leg.Bruno moved against the wall and jumped up three steps, placing himself one step above the stooping brute.The dwarf turned and readied himself, holding his shield against the half-ogre as it began to turn to face him.Bruenor pushed as hard as he could, his short, muscular legs kicking hard. The half-ogre was pushed down the stairs.The fall wasn't high, and it turned out badly, as it landed on its slashed ankle as it tried to keep its balance.It howled and fell sideways. A moment later, its blurred vision cleared, and it looked back to see a red-bearded dwarf flying towards it, mouth open in a primal snarl, face contorted in eager rage, the dreadful ax clasped in both hands middle. The dwarf's body reacted swiftly to the impact, swinging the ax hard and hard, splitting the half-ogre's head in two. “那肯定很疼，”布鲁诺咕哝着爬起来。 他看了看斧子上的血迹，退缩了一下，然后只是耸耸肩，在那个死去的野兽肮脏的毛皮外衣上擦了擦。 崔斯特疾掠回来，靠着一棵树，然后在它边上一闪一滚，以免被一记猛烈的敲击打中。 食人魔的木棒狠狠地拍在这棵小树上，而且事实证明它更结实一点，把活生生的树木给打断了。 崔斯特考虑到这颗正在倾倒的树，不禁大声呻吟了一下，想象着如果没有躲到一边，自己纤瘦的身形看上去将会是何等模样。然而他无暇多虑，因为那个食人魔很快追逼过来，带着增强的速度，并有着巨人般强壮的肌肉，轻松地挥动沉重的木棒。它跃过倒下的树，再次摇晃着木棒。 崔斯特面朝下扑倒在雪地上，木棒呼啸着从他上方划过。卓尔精灵以惊人的速度和自然优美的动作站立起来，径直跳过食人魔的快速回扫，这一扫划了个斜线从侧面而来，敲向崔斯特刚刚躺着的地方。在空中，卓尔精灵的攻击没什么力量，但他弯刀迅速轮番戳刺，将它们的尖端刺入食人魔宽阔的胸部。 卓尔精灵轻盈地落地，然后立即回到空中，同时扭转身子以侧身避过从旁劈来的木棒。他落地时反转旋转的劲道，将一把刀猛地砍入食人魔腹部。再一次，他的攻击没有象预期的那样造成伤害，但他没有停下来嗟叹这一事实。他绕向食人魔的臀部，右手反手握刀刺出去，从后面狠狠插入食人魔树桩一般的腿。 崔斯特径直疾奔向前，跃过另一棵倒塌的树，绕过两棵橡树，回过脸面对预料中正冲过来的对手。 食人魔围着两棵橡树追赶他，但崔斯特有个优势，他能从紧靠在一起生长的树中间穿过去，而巨大的食人魔必须绕过它们。几圈下来，他使得食人魔陷入固定的步伐，自己则到了外侧，然后窜过树的中间，在那个粗野的家伙能够来得及转身设防之前快速猛烈地绕了回来。 卓尔精灵再次击中了两下，一记戳刺，一记砍斫。当他右手攻击得手的时候，随着运动一划到底，转了整整一圈，然后再次疾奔向前，食人魔嚎叫着快速追来。 就这样过了很久，崔斯特采用一击即退的策略，希望累垮食人魔，希望那些药剂失效，它们很可能只是暂时增强能力。 崔斯特一次又一次造成小伤口，但他知道这不是技巧竞赛，中立的裁判会把胜利授予较好的战士。这是一场要进行到最后一刻的战斗，虽然他精准的移位与攻击看上去非常漂亮，但唯一重要的一击是最后一击。食人魔有着巨大的力量，另一棵树在它的沉重打击下碎裂倾倒的景象映入卓尔精灵脑中，因此崔斯特知道，被这个怪物结结实实打中的第一下就很可能就是这场战斗中的最后一下。 卓尔精灵全速跑过一个积雪的山脊，翻滚着俯冲下去，滑到底下。他迅速站起来，转身面对追击。卓尔精灵也许想要再击中一下，或者更有可能的是，在这个不利的地势，仅仅是想逃开。 但食人魔没在那里，当崔斯特听见那个粗野的家伙在他身后落地时，他知道它将增加的速度与力量用在了不同的地方。 食人魔跳过了山脊顶端，越过滑落并转身的卓尔精灵。崔斯特意识到了他的错误。 吃了一惊的半食人魔仰面落在距离塔和它扔下的俘虏都有几呎远的地方，但看起来几乎没有受到伤害，它立即开始行动，忙乱地站了起来 凯蒂布莉儿以另一支疾驰的箭引导她的冲锋，这一箭射中了腹部，然后她把弓扔到一边，抽出卡兹德赫。这把剑热切地以意念感应鼓动她将那野兽劈开。 那个粗野的家伙一手抓着自己腹部的伤口，另一手向她伸来，仿佛要试图阻挡她的冲锋。卡兹德赫一闪，终结了这个可能性，截断的手指四处乱飞。 凯蒂布莉儿狂暴地冲过来，掌握住优势，并且毫不放弃，她那刃口锋利的剑来回劈砍，一点也不慢下来，甚至都不去费心调整攻击的角度。 她不需要调整，用这把剑时不需要。 半食人魔厚厚的衣服和皮革甲象薄纸片一样裂开，片刻之间鲜亮的红线布满了这个怪物。 半食人魔努力向着她打出一拳，但卡兹德赫挡在那里，以其锋利的剑刃阻截了这一拳，劈开半食人魔的手，并将这一刀一直向上切到它粗壮的手腕。 这头怪兽发出好一声嚎叫！ 但那声喊叫不一会儿就安静了下来，凯蒂布莉儿将卡兹德赫向上横切，割开了它的喉咙。半食人魔倒了下去，凯蒂布莉儿跳到它旁边，她的剑反复地砍着。 “女儿！”布鲁诺喊道，一半因恐惧，一半因吃惊，他走出塔时看见养女浑身被血覆盖。他朝她奔去，但差点被劈成两半，她正挥舞着剑，卡兹德赫在四周闪动。 “是这该死的剑！”布鲁诺一边对她喊叫，一边往后退，防御性地举起双臂。 凯蒂布莉儿骤然停了下来，吃惊地瞪视着她那把精良的剑。 布鲁诺是对的。在她因看到那人从塔上坠落而愤怒与恐惧的那一刻，在她内疚自责自己射失了箭而导致那人坠落的那一刻，这把有着险恶感知力的剑卡兹德赫再次找到了进入她思想的门道，刺激她陷入疯狂。 她大声而无助地笑着。白色的牙齿在她沾满了血的脸中闪现，显得如此荒唐。 “女儿？”布鲁诺小心地问。 “我在想我们俩也许都要洗个澡，”凯蒂布莉儿对他说，显然又控制住了自己。 瑞吉斯吊在塔顶边缘，怀疑那个半食人魔从他上方飞出去时是否连自己的错误都没搞明白，它四肢疯狂地摆动，快速落向石头地面。这个粗野的家伙闷哼一声撞到地面，还弹起了一两下。 半身人把自己拉回塔顶上，往下看去，见到半食人魔顽固地试图再次站起来。它挣扎了一下，然后落了回去，但随后又试图站立起来。 瑞吉斯捡回他的小钉头锤并瞄准了一下。他飞出锤子时朝下面的半食人魔吹了声口哨，时间控制得恰到好处，当这个粗野的家伙抬头看时脸正好及时迎上坠落的武器。下面传来一声强烈的撞击声，就象金属砸在石头上，半食人魔在那儿站立了好久，抬着头瞪视瑞吉斯。 半身人倒吸了一口气，几乎无法相信钉头锤从三十呎高处坠落，还不能造成更多伤害。 但它确实造成了很大伤害。那个粗野的家伙沉重地倒下去，没有再起来。 一阵颤栗爬上瑞吉斯细小的脊椎，他停了好一会儿，以有足够时间考虑自己在这场战斗中的行为，考虑到自己完全卷了进去，而其实真的毫无必要。半身人努力试图不要如此看问题，试图重复地提醒自己，他的行动与他这群朋友们的原则相一致，他的这些亲爱的、值得信赖的同伴们会想也不多想一下地去冒生命危险，以帮助那些亟需帮助的人。 这不是第一次了，也不会是最后一次，瑞吉斯怀疑他是否最好离开，去找一伙新的朋友。 崔斯特只能够猜测食人魔有力的挥舞会从哪个方向而来，而且他知道，如果他猜错，将会直接跳向正在袭来的攻击。在这一瞬间，他必须作出反应，战士的本能令他回忆起食人魔战斗的风格，明白地告诉他食人魔每次发起进攻都以自右向左的击打开始，一切都解决了。 因此崔斯特跑向左面，他的魔法脚镯加速了双脚，使其拼命地奔跑。 木棒在他身后拍打下来，当他转身跳跃的时候扫到了他，撞得他扭曲翻滚了好长一段距离。落下时有雪垫在下面，但当他爬起来时发现自己只握着一把弯刀。他的右臂完全麻痹了，而且肩膀与侧面爆发出一阵剧痛。卓尔精灵往下一瞥，退缩了一下。他的肩膀显然脱臼了，被推向正常位置的后方。 崔斯特没有充分的时间，因为食人魔正在追上来——然而卓尔精灵注意到它移动得没那么快了，这使他有了一些希望。 崔斯特溜开去，边跑边转身，精确地令自己背撞向一棵树，利用稳固的树干将肩膀撞回原位。一阵剧烈疼痛令他反胃，并给他眼前带来旋转飞舞的黑点。他几乎晕眩过去，但他知道如果有那么片刻的虚弱，食人魔会将他砸碎。 他贴着树转个圈，并跌跌撞撞地跑开，给自己争取更多时间。然后他发现现在可以轻易拉开与那个粗野家伙的距离了，这让他知道至少有一种药水已经失效。 跨出每一步都给崔斯特带来些许解脱。肩头的疼痛已经减轻，而且他发现又可以感觉到自己的手指了。他沿着迂回的路线回到掉落的弯刀那里，呆头呆脑的食人魔显然以为已经打赢了这场战斗，很快紧跟着追赶上来。 崔斯特停下来转过身，他紫色的眼睛紧盯着正在接近中的食人魔。就在战斗双方接触之前，他们的眼神相遇了，然后食人魔的信心消失了。 这一次黑暗精灵没有低估。 崔斯特狂暴地冲向前，用自己的眼神紧锁住食人魔的。他的弯刀仿佛本身就懂得协调，有着完美的和谐与耀眼的速度——对食人魔来说太快了，它的魔法加速已经失效，巨人的力量正在减弱，因此无法跟得上。这个粗野的家伙反而采用攻击姿态，疯狂地挥舞，但在它完成攻击之前，崔斯特就已经在它的后面了。另外一种药水，就是那种使得食人魔能够抵抗卓尔精灵弯刀刺伤的，也在消退之中。 这一次，闪光与冰亡双双砍入，一把击中腰部，另一把砍断了这个粗野家伙的脚筋。 崔斯特猛烈地进攻，但是有着精确的控制，围绕对手来回急奔，连砍带刺，每每指向要害。 稍后，获胜的卓尔精灵将弯刀放到一边，他的右臂再次开始麻木，现在，战斗的亢奋正在平息。他一步一晃地朝着塔走回去，一边诅咒着自己将这样一个敌人太想当然了。在那儿，他看见布鲁诺和瑞吉斯坐在敞开的门口，两人看上去都伤痕累累，凯蒂布莉儿站在旁边，从头到脚被血所覆盖，正照料着一个晕眩的伤员。 “如果我们在遇上海盗克里之前就都在战斗中完蛋了，那倒也挺好，”布鲁诺咕哝说。