Cora, her ears still ringing from the grenade exploding, felt a touch of guilt and regret at the passing of the commander. Qazin had been a decent man and a good leader. He shouldn't have had to sacrifice his life like that, but then again, this world was like that, sacrifices had to be made every single day so that other men and women could survive. In this case however, survival was futile; they should have died fighting beside him. Rubbing her eyes gloomily at the pessimistic thought, she carefully aimed her rifle at the nearest goblins, making sure to make each bullet count. But with so many goblins climbing up from all directions it was difficult to keep track of them all. It was only till she heard branches shaking above her, did she realize she was in trouble.

Cursing aloud at the sight of goblins above her, she called out, "Tommy gimme a hand. I got gobs up top!"

Tommy glanced her way, smirked, and stuck up his middle finger and kept firing into the goblins around him. Her face flushed red, she swung the rifle onto her back, un-sheathed her machete and crouched down to make a smaller target. Two spears flew down, one punching into her right side, knocking the breath out of her, with the other grazing her thigh. Wincing in pain, she snapped the flimsy spear in half and staunched the wound quickly by wrapping a piece of her shirt around the spearhead.

One of the goblins, excited by the sight of blood, dropped down from the branch above with a whoop and jabbed the spear towards her chest. Gritting her teeth, she parried the blow deftly, then lunged forward and sliced the goblins throat out. The creature held its torn throat with a look of surprise on its face as it toppled from the tree. Another goblin scrambled up to take its place. Unlike the first goblin it didn't attack her; it stared at her with its sunken-yellow eyes. Worried by the careful way the creature positioned itself, she realized she was facing an experienced fighter and judging by the wrinkles, solid stature and scars on its face this creature had seen a lot of action. Knowing she was outmatched, she stepped back and whipped the rifle off her shoulder and fired in one single motion to blow the creature out of the tree with a gunshot to the chest.

~ * ~

Hicks, temporarily blinded by the brilliant white light from the explosion, instinctively turned away and blinked rapidly. Please don't be dead. The hard-faced sergeant twisted his head back and forth searching frantically for the commander, a part of him hoping his eyes had lied to him and that the commander had thrown the grenade and made a miraculous escape. Flames from the explosion were spreading far and fast to either side of him burning dozens of goblins alive, their squeals adding to the din of gunfire and battle cries. He could see the remains of his squad outlined against the flames, battling against the horde of goblins that were teeming against the trees. With flames engulfing the forest around him, most of the goblins and Orcs avoided his side, except for two determined Orcs who hacked away with their axes below him.

He saw Soren's muscular figure off to the side, climbing higher into the trees to avoid the smoke and goblins racing to reach him. He lifted his rifle to provide some support fire, when through the smoke and ash, the badly burnt figure of the monstrous Orc appeared. The creature lay at the edge of the road, armor shredded, one arm missing, tusks blackened, its skin red and raw. His mouth twitched in a slight smile at the thought of the creature suffering before it died. Then it moved... the huge Orc with pieces of armor melted into its flesh slowly rose to its feet. Mouth twisting into a snarl of rage and anger, Hick's trained his rifle on the Orc, switched to semi-automatic and let loose a stream of bullets. The heavy rifle fire rang clear and loud in the forest. The well-aimed spray struck the Orc in the chest and head, tearing through flesh and breaking bones, knocking it backwards. The Orc howled and held up a muscular arm, but the rifle rounds tore right through its burnt flesh. His magazine empty, he took a deep long breath to settle his rage. But his anger refused to simmer down, eyes burning with fury, he un-sheathed his machete and prepared to leap down to finish the job; he could not let it live. The great big Orc, bleeding from more than half a dozen gunshot wounds, took two more steps before collapsing onto its knees, its face and arms a bloody mess.

~ * ~

Body soaked in perspiration, arms shaking, and bowels loosening with fear. Talmen his mind drowning in fear tried to think of a way to escape, but his brain kept circling back to image of his father burning alive. Flames crackled nearby and the sweltering heat grew stronger. The creatures were close ... He needed to move and soon, but where to go? Blood thirsty abominations blocked off the west. A battle raged off to the north with flames, smoke and bright bursts of gunfire scarring the night sky, which meant there was only one option, which was to head back south into the wide-open plains. Rubbing his temples to massage his growing headache, he mustered his courage and took a breath. Swallowing the bile rising at the back of his throat, he surged out of his hiding spot and sprinted towards where he thought the flat open plains would be using the forest fire burning in the distance to guide his path. An abomination its skin oozing liquid hot magna slipped out of the shadows to block his path. Its pitiless flame lit eyes flaring a fiery blue at the sight of him. He jerked to halt, thought of turning back, but it was too late... more abominations closed in to surround him.

Biting his lips, he bolted past the creature of pure flame. Saw out of the corner of his eyes the creature raise its palms up and shoot liquid hot streams of fire from its palms towards him. He vaulted out of the path of the fiery blast, the white-hot flames incinerating the branches and earth like acid. Choking back a panicked scream, he kept running, when he felt the white-hot flames scorch the skin off his back. Howling in agony, he kept running oblivious to the tree branches and rocks that cut and slapped at his hands and feet. The pain in his back throbbed angrily, the breeze slapping against the open wound, wafting the smell of burnt meat. He could hear hoarse screeching coming from behind him, as the creatures communicated with one another.

Losing concentration for a split second he tumbled to earth, scraping his palms and chest against the hard surface. A mixture of fear and adrenaline pumping in his veins urged him to his feet, and kept him moving. It was only until he began passing the bodies of dead goblins and Orcs that he realized he had run in the wrong direction. Cursing his stupidity, he turned to run back the way he had come and gaped at the sight of hundreds of abominations spreading out to either side of the forest, lighting up the night sky with their un-earthly glow. Sighing with resignation, he charged towards the sound of gunfire, growls, and wild cries.