The Ogryns’ Ambush

The air grew thick with dust and decay as the party ventured deeper into the dungeon. The stone passageway was wide but uneven, with collapsed archways revealing cracks in the ceiling where roots had begun to twist their way inside. The flickering glow of Leila's torch cast long shadows on the walls, illuminating scattered weapons, splintered shields, and dried blood pooled in the crevices of the stone floor.

But there were no bodies.

Tomas knelt beside a discarded sword, frowning as he ran his fingers along the blade. Still sharp. No sign of dust. Whatever had happened to the missing scouts, it hadn't been long ago.

"This is too quiet," Mira muttered.

Beren, gripping his axe, grinned. "Maybe whatever did this is waiting up ahead. Saves us the trouble of hunting it down."

Leila shot him a look. "You say that like we're supposed to be happy about it."

Beren just shrugged, adjusting the grip on Stonebreaker.

Arlan, keeping near the back, scanned the corridor ahead. There was something wrong about the silence. A dungeon should be alive with sound—dripping water, scurrying rats, the distant echoes of shifting stone. But here? Nothing. Even the air felt… dead.

Then a noise broke the silence. A ragged breath.

Tomas' head snapped up. Sword drawn. "There!"

A shadow stumbled from a broken archway ahead.

A man. Bloodied, barely standing. The Guild insignia on his tattered coat was nearly torn away, his face pale with exhaustion. He clutched his side, his fingers stained dark with blood.

"You have to—" he choked, falling to his knees. "You have to run… they're still here."

Then, from the darkness behind him, a deep, rumbling growl.

Heavy footsteps shook the stone.

Mira cursed. "Oh, that's bad."

The Ogryns Arrive

The scout collapsed forward, too weak to continue. Before anyone could reach him, the archway behind him exploded outward, stone shards flying as a hulking Ogryn brute crashed through.

The creature was nearly eight feet tall, its scarred gray skin stretched over a massive, muscular frame. It wore patchwork armor—stitched-together furs and metal plates scavenged from fallen warriors. Its yellowed tusks gleamed in the dim torchlight, and in its massive hands, it gripped a jagged iron cleaver the size of a man's torso.

It let out a guttural roar, and from the tunnels behind it, more heavy footsteps followed.

They weren't alone.

"How many?" Tomas shouted.

Leila whipped around, peering into the darkness. "Too many."

Beren didn't wait for orders. He charged.

"Beren, wait—!" Tomas called, but it was too late.

Beren swung Stonebreaker in a wide arc, aiming for the Ogryn's head. The brute ducked. It caught Beren's wrist mid-swing, slamming him into the ground so hard it almost punched the air out of him.

"Son of a—!" Beren growled, rolling away just before the Ogryn's cleaver buried itself into the ground where he'd been lying.

Mira sent a firebolt soaring into its shoulder. The Ogryn barely flinched.

More of them emerged from the tunnel—five, no, six Ogryns, each one heavily armed and armored.

They were surrounded.

Chaos & Retreat

Tomas planted his shield, blocking a downward swing from another brute's hammer. The force sent him skidding backward, his boots grinding into the dirt. He barely had time to breathe before another blow came.

Leila moved like a shadow, positioning herself on a ledge, taking quick, precise shots—an arrow through the eye, another in the throat. One Ogryn staggered but did not fall.

Arlan gritted his teeth. He couldn't use necromancy here. If the Guild scout saw his magic, it would be over. But without it, he was useless.

Mira noticed his hesitation. "Arlan, we need something!"

"I can't!" he shot back.

She cursed but didn't push him. Instead, she thrust her staff forward, sending a wave of flame into the Ogryns' path, forcing them to step back. It bought them seconds—no more.

Tomas gritted his teeth. They were outnumbered. They had no chance.

"Fall back!" he shouted.

Beren, now on his feet, growled in frustration but obeyed, swinging one last wide Cleave to keep the enemies at bay.

The group moved fast, Tomas covering their retreat with his shield, Leila firing one last arrow that struck an Ogryn's knee, slowing its pursuit.

They barely made it past the crumbling archway before an Ogryn war horn blared, shaking the stone.

Tomas knew what that meant.

More were coming.

Regrouping & Realization

They didn't stop running until they reached a small chamber further inside the ruins—a collapsed portion of the dungeon that forced them to slow down.

Tomas leaned against the wall, breathing hard. "That… could have gone better."

Beren wiped blood from his mouth. "I had them."

"You were nearly crushed," Mira snapped.

Leila kneeled beside the scout, but one look at his pale face and the blood pooling beneath him told her what she needed to know.

"He's gone."

Arlan exhaled. "He said they were still here."

Mira nodded. "That wasn't just a random pack of monsters. This dungeon isn't abandoned. It's occupied."

Tomas clenched his jaw. "We need a new plan."

The Ogryns weren't just beasts lurking in the dark.

This was their home. And now, the adventurers were the invaders.