Adventure log.

Chapter Two. "Explosive Canyons"

- Great. Just great. I feel this journey is going to be very interesting! Provided we don't all drop dead first! - Derien was shaking with rage, and with his next step, he fell headfirst into a particularly deep snowdrift. Spitting and brushing away helping hands, he dug himself out and shook the snow from his hair.
- Stop whining, - grumbled Alpharius, unsuccessfully struggling with the laces of his insulated boots.
- You should have mentioned this a bit sooner, don't you think?! Slippery bastard! You dragged your little brother here too! Magnificent mages, tremble, forces of evil! With one glance, the spellcaster can turn you to dust! Their mighty power will crash down upon the heads of their enemies like thunder!.. - the bard's speech was cut short when the mage's fist hit him in the jaw.
- Shut up... My head hurts... Still here... - Garius stepped away and sat on an icy boulder, rubbing his forehead. He looked terrible.
- Are you sick? - the monk inquired.
- No... Coming down... m... I'm coming down. Boo-boo-boo, - the wizard muttered, standing up and rubbing his frostbitten rear. - Let's go.
They continued their way through the snowy gorge. The group was heading toward the Shaerngar Bridge with the goal of recapturing and holding it, so that reinforcements from Neverwinter could finally reach Targos. Albreck had honestly admitted to them that this was a dangerous mission and he had almost no men left. The Stronghold had retreated slightly from a direct assault; it was important not to lose the initiative.
And so, they trudged through the viscous snow, exhausted and barely able to move their legs. Next time, they would need to bring skis or snowshoes.
The bard walked and angrily muttered dirty curses under his breath. Sorcerers without sorcery. Neither one nor the other knew how to cast lightning bolts or fireballs.
"I couldn't study at the academy; I skipped classes and had fun. And then I left. I had to scrape by on small change until I developed a couple of great schemes for personal enrichment. I don't know a single destruction spell. Why would I need them? They are completely useless in everyday life. Better watch how I make that man give me his wallet" - the wizard's dramatic tale did not touch Derien's heart, but it drove him to fury. And the second one was high all the time. Drinking something, or smoking, or sniffing, chewing. His story was far more grounded. Kicked out of the same academy for complete insanity and being in a state of narcotic or alcoholic intoxication around the clock. He didn't know what year it was and could barely remember two or three weak spells that would get them smashed against a wall.
There was also a priest. An eternally angry, malicious, quarrelsome bastard. It will be good to have a priest in the party, Derien thought. He can heal in a difficult moment. Not so. He didn't heal. Was he unable or unwilling? Unclear. Seems like the latter.
And so they walked: a crazy unholy father; a dropout fraud wanted across the entire coast; a degraded drug addict and alcoholic barely staying on his feet; a nostalgic, sickly-looking monk over forty; the bard himself - a boy plucking strings; and a Northern ranger - the only reliable person in the whole group. They were marching toward certain death to storm a fortified Stronghold garrison, and the lives of the citizens of Targos, and perhaps other cities, depended on the success of this venture.
- Well... The trial promises to be interesting! - Derien said, trying to cheer himself up, but steadily sinking into the depths of despair.

They walked for a long time until they met Sarg, returning from the vanguard.
- Crossing the canyons, I noticed orcs with bows on the hills who could easily shoot us down. In narrow spots there are barricades made of barrels; in one place, a crevice crosses the canyons. I also smelled smoke; obviously, there is an orc camp nearby.
- Maybe we should take a rest? - Alpharius suggested.
- No rests on the front line! - the deacon barked. - We have almost reached our destination. It's getting dark, so it will be easier for us to catch the enemy off guard in the darkness.
- In any case, it's full of ambushes there, - the Barbarian continued. - We need to conduct reconnaissance and eliminate the shooters if possible.
- I can do that, - Kai said indifferently.
The Barbarian nodded.
- Good. The two of us will go. And you, - he addressed the rest. - Be on your guard. And move out when you hear the signal.
They departed.
- And what's the signal? - Garius asked, but received no answer.
The four were checking their gear when they heard an explosion of terrible force.
- Go-go! - Erkenbert commanded, rushing through the canyon.
They noticed a huge crater in the snow, near which Sarg was lying. He saw them and gestured for them to get down.
- I see orcs with bows on that cliff, - Derien said. - And barrels.
- Damn barrels are full of explosives, - hissed Sarg as he crawled up. - I barely got grazed. If only we could cover them with a spell...
- Great idea. Only our sorcerers are amateurs.
- Shut up, - Alpharius pushed the bard. - I can blind them. Though from this distance... Better to put them to sleep. Watch and tremble.
He rose to one knee, extending his palm and making a gesture accompanied by magical words. Flashes of magic burst from the rock, and the orcs fell unconscious; only one remained standing. He panicked and tried to flee, but the battleaxe of the monk, who had emerged from the shadows, sank into his skull. Kai looked at them, rolled a barrel closer to the edge, glanced at the orc bodies, and sighed. Patting the barrel, he disappeared from sight as quickly as possible.
- Looks like he wants us to blow it up, - Derien said.
- Great... observation... - Garius reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny bottle. - Boom!..
Sarg took the bottle from him, tied it to an arrow, and fired it at the barrel. The bottle broke, the liquid spilled, and nothing happened.
- My rum!.. - the mage grabbed a handful of snow and threw it down the Barbarian's collar.
- Why did you get out the rum?! - Sarg roared.
- Fools.
Alpharius dipped a crossbow bolt into flammable liquid, placed it in the groove, lit it, and shot it at the barrel. The explosion shook the gorge, red splashes soared over the cliff, and rocks crumbled somewhere. Standing up and shaking themselves off, the group moved on.

After a couple of minutes, they met with the monk.
- Good work. Further is the bridge. Enemies are at the approaches - they outnumber us three to one. Orcs, bugbears. There are a couple of ogres on the bridge, - they observed from cover as the view opened up.
- We need a plan, - Derien said thoughtfully.
He stopped himself, glancing back at the deacon. Erkenbert's face was twisted, his eyes flashed with fire, his body shook, his fists gripped weapon and shield, and a growl was forming in his throat. He looked at the bridge, where movement had begun. Orcs were dragging some cargo to the other side of the gorge, and two large ogres began dismantling the bridge's supports.
- We'll have to improvise, - the bard shrugged.
They left cover and stormed the enemy positions.
The first orc's skull was crushed by a priestly mace. The second was hit by a quickly fired arrow from the ranger. The third and fourth shrieked and panicked, their bodies setting fire to tents when a cocktail with an incendiary mixture broke at their feet. An orc shaman roared, calling the warriors to order and giving commands.
- Silence! - the deacon exclaimed, and for a few seconds, the shaman was enveloped in radiance.
The orc clutched his throat but could not make a sound. Then he cast aside his now-useless magical staff, kicked a couple of creatures to the flank of the fighting party, and headed after them to reach the two mages who were throwing grenades from the rear, showering his camp with spells and summoning creatures. The orc lunged at Garius, delivering blows that the latter had to block with his staff. Sometimes the wizard let them through, but fortunately, until then he was protected by magical armor covering his body. Nevertheless, he could not hold out long. His brother was running through snowdrifts from two other opponents and was clearly incapacitated. Garius fought back for a few more moments until the staff slipped from his hands. The orc grabbed it and, with a hoarse roar, raised his second hand to strike. The mage reacted instantly - a stream of acid hit the creature's face. Releasing the man and dropping his weapon, the orc howled and ran blindly; skin slid off his face in scabs. Without losing a second, the wizard turned to his brother, cast a spell, and entwined the pursuers in sticky webbing. Two cocoons fell to the ground and were finished off by two bolts.
- You saved me again, you old dog! - the sorcerer cheerfully slapped Garius on the shoulder.
- Always... my pleasure, - the wizard smirked.
The battle was coming to an end. Demoralized, disorganized, caught off guard, and deprived of their leader, the vile creatures could not withstand the fierce onslaught of the six warriors and were swept away.
- Victory! - the bard exclaimed, waving his blade in the air and splashing smelly blood.
- No. Defeat, - the Barbarian announced in a tomb-like voice.
The bridge was destroyed. The mission failed.