Scenes 2 and 3; a friend in the dark and a camp brutalized

At the evening's start, the Elven soldier Amun was discovered after a few tense moments in the darkened wood. A camp runner's body had been found, his young body riddled with flint arrows. The wooden palisade loomed in the fog before them, but no greeting came from the darkened camp and there was only a gaping hole where the gates should have stood.

Two legionnaires, 26th cohort, 12th spear were found cowering as men already dead. Paolo would utter no sound, but Claude was coaxed into sharing some of what had happened. Two weeks ago the rest of the century stationed here left mysteriously and abruptly to the north. Six days later the decurion left behind were aware of movement outside the palisades, following by bestial grunting. Soon a mass of Roman heads, severed from the bodies of soldiers they had fought and lived by for years came soaring over the sides of the palisades. The siege then began in earnest with the shaken Romans doing their best to hold the foe at bay. The total effort of the soldiers was exhausting though seemingly effective as the orcs were unable to enter the fort. Unable until the ogre came. Breaking the gates was only the first assault as the orcs poured through and soon only a handful of men, thought dead in the onslaught were still alive when day broke. Three had survived from the 26th Gaelic cohort, 19th Spear. Derek, Stewart and Graeme had had enough of their wits about them to understand some mention of the orcs gutteral speech. One word had stood out from their foul mutterings - "Uruk." Though the orcs, some of which had come via strange leather covered river craft, had taken practically everything of value, they had left the Centurion's tent untouched. A thorough search turned up 12 days of hard tack (about as tasty as it sounds), 3 days of salt pork, 4 bottles of very high quality wine from Saarling (Germany) as well as a Bronze scroll tube painted red (4 tubers in golden liquid = heal 5 hp, no surge required) in the style typically reserved for Official Roman business. Of particular note was a Black scabbarded Gladius with an ebony handle and a Damascus steel blade. Even the least martial of the spear could tell this was a fine blade indeed!

None of the remaining spear have any idea of welfare of the village and soon the party set out toward Ballasalla, the old silver mines, inactive for decades.