The Rescue of What's-Her-Name: Part 5

The halfling slipped off towards the village, his movement silent and swift, save for the occasional thud and ensuing obscenities. The rest of the party waited patiently, munching on tortilla chips and playing with the miniatures. Eventually, with much breaking of twigs, Bobbin reappeared.

“Found her,” he said. “They got her tied up in the big hut on the far side.”

“Did she happen to have a name tag?” Rallis asked.

“I don’t remember. Should I go back and check?”

“Let’s not,” Coryn interjected, before the ranger could reply. “What about the orcs? How many, what kind of weapons, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Well, that’s the funny bit. There’s no one there.”

“So What’s-her-name is tied up, all alone, in the middle of an orc camp?” Tamra asked.

“Yep,” said the halfling.

“Trap,” the entire group said in unison.

“Well,” Melkor said cheerfully. “At least we know where we stand. Come on, let’s get it over with.”

The party strolled into the deserted orc village. A light breeze sprang up, doing little to remove the stench that hung around the huts. The trappings of everyday life lay scattered around, a half-mended blanket here, a cooking fire there, embers still glowing red. It was if the entire community had simply walked away. The adventurers wandered along, poking idly at the scattered belongings. Bobbin surreptitiously pocketed a few small items, while Lars kicked over anything in his path. Out of the whole party, only Rallis moved cautiously, pausing every now and again to inspect tracks.

“Their tracks go every which way,” he finally said, as they neared the largest hut. “They’re definitely up to something.”

“Well, duh,” Lars said.

Without any word, they gathered at the hut’s entrance, readying for battle. Lars stood at the front, with Coryn and Tamra flanking him. Melkor and Bobbin backed them up, with Rallis at the rear, bow at the ready. Lars held up three fingers, and then silently counted down: three, two, one.

At one, Lars roared his battle cry and kicked the door open, rushing in with the rest of the party on his heels. The hut was quite large, capable of easily accommodating forty or so people. Furs were rolled up and stacked against the walls, along with numerous chests and barrels, many bearing human and elven marks. Unsurprisingly, there were no orcs to be seen.

“There she is,” Bobbin said.

The lord’s daughter was gagged and tied upright to a supporting pillar in the middle of the hut. She was quite beautiful, with long black hair, a fantastic figure, and a light tan. They could tell all this at a glance because all she wearing a chain-mail bikini that was a good two sizes two small, along with strappy 4" heels, and a few silk ribbons.

Lars let out a whoop. “Now that’s what I call an outfit!”

There were nods from the rest of the men, as well as a “hot damn!”

“Why is she wearing that?” Tamra suddenly asked.