Of Dwarves and Orcs and Death and Arrows and Axes: Chapter 4 of The True and Accurate Version of the Continuing Adventures of the Ever-Evolving Party

Finally got the taste of Orc Blood. Not literally, of course. But it has been no secret that I have been longing for vengeance and retribution against these foul creatures and this morning I was finally rewarded with prey. I pinned six of the eight that came at us with arrows, three of which were finishing blows. I long for more, and will entreat the party to scour the hills and woods around us to find where this group came from.
 
But again, I start in the middle and I will back up to the beginning to capture the entire episode. As you recall, we last left our story with a tale of slimes, and that is where we picked up again. After killing what we thought were all the oozy creatures, we encountered two more, which we were able to dispatch relatively quickly with great good fortune. They still remain my least favorite enemy (so far) and are both unsettling and rather unsatisfying to kill. But kill them we did, and returned back to the front of the evil temple to let Norbin and Bedazzled know we've cleared the temple. For which they appeared grateful.
 
After brief discussion with the two dwarves, we decided we were going to help desecrate (or bless, depending on your point of view) the temple, and do our best to fill it back in to prevent further evil from taking root here. Of note, we came across a glowing crescent in the main chamber, which I suggested the cleric blast with one of his light spells under the theory that "it can't hurt to try." Shortly after the spell hit, I was stricken with a sudden flash of pain to which I could find no explanation. So, under the theory that "it might hurt to try, but probably only the elf so what the hell" the cleric blasted the spot again, but no-one in the party suffered any ill effects. Odd. Norbin thought that maybe the symbol belonged to the "Faceless Lord," which is a logical conclusion since he also suggested early in our adventures that this was the temple of said evil dwarf god. (We all took it at face value, or at least outwardly did so. I still don't trust him completely and I am still damn curious about how the symbol suddenly appeared, after several days of searching that room carefully. I think there is a deeper mystery here but I will have to meditate on this a little longer. I will make an approximate drawing of the symbol and perhaps see if anyone in town could positively ID it.)
 
At any rate, after the symbol-blasting, we set about knocking shit over, toppling statues, smashing whatever could be smashed, and pissing on the ruins. It was holy work. The party agreed to help Norbin and Dweezle move a bunch of rocks around to fill in the temple. (This whole chapter could be called "Excavating and then Anti-Excavating an Evil Temple," or perhaps "Let's Dig Up an Evil Temple -- No Wait, Shit! Shit! Bury It! Bury It!") For myself, I took to the woods to see if I could find suitable wood to fashion some new arrows to replace the ones that disintegrated in the slimes we killed while the rest moved rocks.)
 
The rock-moving and the stick-finding were both moderately successful and we set down for an evening's rest, taking turns on watch. I was last up, and near dawn I could hear a commotion outside, and very quickly it became obvious the commotion was heading towards us. As I raised the alarm, I ran for the shadows in the back, ready to rain death upon whatever enemy came our way. As the group neared, I could make out someone yelling in Dwarvish, and the distinct guttural cry of Orcs in pursuit.
 
The party reacted perfectly, with Blithe taking a flanking position to my left, and Ozzie and Baric taking a position on either side of the door. Nothing that we didn't want to come into the room was going to do so easily. A panting dwarf came bolting in first. (I'm not an expert in the language, but I believe he was yelling, "Help, help, a horrible heffalump!" My translation may be slightly off but I think that was the jist of it.) He was followed by a rain of orcish javelins, several of which found their home in various party members, myself included. Fortunately, that also meant that the enemy were now well within my range, and I returned fire, hoping to take down as many as I could before they reached the door.
 
As the initial onslaught came in, the orcs in front were quickly dispatched with a series of arrows, axes, and large sticks (Ozzie still swinging a modified tree branch to surprisingly good effect.) Ozzie became the preferred target, and Baric was right next to him, casting healing spells to keep him going.
 
Our new dwarfy friend quickly turned and ran back into battle and proved a formidable foe, variously throwing sharp objects and then weilding two weapons, which, when they hit their target, did significant damage. I had to point out the value of using one of the dead orc's battleaxes versus the tree branch to Ozzie, and once he started swinging that around, he was taking out kneecaps left and right.
 
A particularly large brute of an orc pushed through from behind and in one mighty blow slashed into Baric, who crumpled to the floor in a heap. This was the point at which my bloodlust started to share some space in my head with concern, both for Baric and the party. The two dwarves in front closed ranks at the door, allowing Blithe and I to continue to shoot unabated from a distance.
 
When the number of orcs standing were less than the number of us standing, my concern shifted from the immediate safety of the party to a fear that the remaining orcs would try to escape and I ran forward to ensure I would be hot on the trail if they did so. (Foolishly, I had forgotten to transfer my Hunters Mark from the first orc, and had they tried to run, I would have had to rely completely on my tracking skills. (Which, I am sure, would have been completely up to the task but nevertheless I kicked myself afterwards when I realized what I had failed to do.))
 
Fortunately, the last orc chose to die on the small pile of dead orcs we had created and I was able to staunch the would of the cleric, who was able to cast his blessings and quickly regain his feet, mumbling something about "I wasn't sleeping, I was just resting my eyes!"
 
We paused for a rest and for introductions. Our new dwarfy friend is named Balderdash the Equivocal (I think that's right, but I may have translated the Dwarvish wrong again.) According to his story, it sounds like he went off into the world to find adventure, and adventure found him first. At any rate, despite leading a horde of orcs into our den, he was pretty handy up front and seemed grateful for our help. That said, I wonder what it is about our party that seems to attract random dwarves. I mean, that's weird, right? Is this how all our adventures will go?
 
Regardless, I want to conduct a quick search of the bodies for anything valuable and anything that would identify who they are, where they came from, and how far they travelled -- were they equipped for long travel or was this an excursion from a nearby den? Were they scouts from a larger group? I fully expect I can track their foul path back to their source and I am keen to do so while the track is fresh. Between my Ranger skills, my life as a hunter, and my natural Mask of the Wild traits, I believe I can safely scout the area ahead of the group and find the source of the orcs. We are not equipped to take on an army or even delve into a den -- but I want to know what we're up against and perhaps help rally an army to combat this threat.