The faint sound of a horn rises from the hills to your right. The chatter and laughter which had accompanied the journey abruptly ceases, to be replaced with fearful whispers. The few villagers who have experience with the bow or sword draw their weapons, their pale faces etched with fear. A second horn, this time in the hills to your left, answers the first.

The hunt has begun.

Jill bites down on her finger until it bleeds and allows the blood to pour onto Ruin, activating her Crimson Rite and coating it with ice .

Oni looks to the right and left at the sound of the horns. ”Natasha, stay close to me and shoot to the left, I’ll focus the right. If anyone comes close tell me and I’ll deal with them, I need you to focus on range.” He unsheathes his longsword from the scabbard on his back and holds his crystal tightly, letting the shards pierce his skin.

False Life: 8

OOC: Grum is off to the left of the villagers. How far away are the horns? Are they close enough that Grum might be able to see what's blowing the horns? If not, I'll pull back to join the others, and climb onto a cart. 

“Nothing like chance for honor and glory so early in morning.” Misha said at the sounds of the horns. She looked both directions, eyes scanning the hills. She quicky dropped to one knee and bowed her head, raising her hammer to the sky holding it lengthwise in her hands. “General, hear me. I protect villagers and slay enemies in your Name, my Lord. Guide my hammer to do your Will. I am your faithful servant. I am prepared.” She stood up, and was ready.

Natasha nodded affirmatively at Oni’s plan, readying an arrow from her quiver as she listened. Her eyes started to scan the area around them, her ears listening for even the slightest of movements.

Perception:  13

((Hope this question makes sense but how long is this caravan of carts? In feet))

Kelric pulls his rapier and dagger out looking around "Seems we never get to rest huh?"

"That's highly unhygienic." Flibbertigibbet protests as Jill bleeds onto Ruin. "Not to mention unsafe. You are exposing yourself to numerous infections which can enter the bloodstream and-" 

The demon is abruptly cut off as a dozen loping forms crest the hills on either side: gnolls. Slavering with insatiable hunger, they attack. 

Initiative: 13

12 on each side?

I'm touched by your concern for my health. Now do your job.

Initiative:8

(Six on each side.)

Initiative: 7

Initiative: 4

Initiative: 3

6 on each side. Easy peasy. Here they come. Like upright dogs barking and yapping weilding rusty weapons.

Come dogs. Today is a good day to die.

Initiative: 23

When Misha reached the Age of Comprehension, her training began. They did not tell her it would be easy, they did not tell her it would be painless.

We are at war.

Within the cold walls of Banehold, she was assigned instructors and grouped with peers. The instructors she knew. Zaedriana and Taetanicus. She did not know the names of her peers, for reality was that most of them would not survive training, even with preprogramming from the Genesis Chambers.

They pushed her body as hard as it would work, and only when she was drenched with sweat and her muscles were on fire did actual exercises and training begin to count. She was ravenously hungry constantly, her body grew and strengthened rapidly - and many a night when she was young did she cry screaming in pain during the night from muscle pain, and growth spurts. They pushed her beyond human limits daily, and many days she felt like she was in a nightmare, but if she did not survive the nightmare from the enemy would be exponentially much worse. 

So she pushed herself. Hard. Harder. 

During combat training there was no relief, no remorse, only the best survived. When she was beaten down to an inch of her life the Medics healed her and bone, muscle, and organ was made anew to keep training. She was no stranger to pain. Soon, things became easier, she became stronger, faster, learned to work alone, and learned to protect and assist others.

Now, as the gnolls approached, she silently prayed to Bane for their swift death, much honor and glory, and the protection of her friends.

Initiative: 15

 Grum looks from the top of the cart he's currently on, picks out an incoming gnoll from the left, casts Hunter's Mark on it, and fires an arrow. 

Attack: 26 Damage: 12

“Jill...!” Misha called out to her, still looking at the gnolls quickly approaching. “Let us fight alongside together. Would bring me much glory and honor to fight with you, while Sunflower shoot death from distance.”

A volley of arrows greets the gnoll hunters, Grum's among them. Most fall short, but four of the gnolls drop with arrows in their throats.

The Battlefield: The gnoll hunters press in on either side of the dirt road, roughly sixty feet distant. There is no cover besides the ten carts wagons that make up the caravan, and the gnolls run across an open stretch of ground.

Oni!