Vogir grinds his back heel into the dirt and adjusts his grip on his magical longbow.
The battle raging below, though fraught, seems under control. Orestes, Indigo and the new dwarf are handling the remaining ‘Dark riders’, leaving he and Zavia to watch for whoever’s approaching.
He’d assumed it was just the two unencountered ‘Dark riders’ but the crescendoing volume of the hoof beats was making him less and less sure.
Vogir’s earlier confidence has become a distant memory.
Who’s rushing toward them?
Can his martialistic friends finish their opponents before more enemies arrive?
A feeling of dread washes over him.
The clever ambush they’d set to kill a couple of the ‘Dark riders’ now seems more of a trap for themselves.
Vogir’s sweaty palms force him to readjust his grip yet again.