In case you wondered why Hilda took exactly 61 steps, it’s because one of the few things she remembered from school was that the average orc raider could run 60 steps in the time it took a dwarf paladin to cast a single spell. This is how some great hero of the past defeated some great horde of the past or something of the sort.

That meant that she had time for a single surprise attack, some nice boost, and another attack before the orcs reached her minus the armor class from the barricade. Did these filthy savages really think that she, a dwarf, would strike any kind of deal with them? They were even dumber than lizardmen…

While Hilda was uttering her blessing, Philly produced a dagger from goddess knows where and hurled it at the lead orc; a dude with light armor but a huge, huge axe it held in both hands. It’d been better if she’d attacked the spellcaster, but any attack is better than no attack.

Alas, Philly wasn’t very strong and the orc was very burly. The knife found home in the orc’s massive chest, but drew very little blood. The orc howled in fury and redoubled its charge. It’s roar seemed to energize its allies. Their eyes all but glowed with bloodlust. No matter, it took more than porcine hystornics to dishearten a daughter of Hagamid.

Hilda threw her hammer at the lead monster while indicating for Philly to take cover behind her. It was a mediocre attack at best, but then the orc already had a dagger in him. He made a sound like a snob disapproving of dessert and went down like a snob after being hit with a hammer by the person who made the dessert.

Its fellow orc, a slender and wiry creature with a chipped tusk and a gorgeous elven spear, tried to grab the hammer. The hammer slid from its hands… straight into the hands of another orc who dropped his spear so it could grab the hammer with both hands.

Damnation! Hilda didn’t expect that. The hammer was her only weapon. Now all she was left with was a heavy shield and a vicious killer ghoul with claws and fangs that could make even a dragon say “ouch, knock it off!”

Of their six foes, four were still standing. Three in the front with arms and armor and one in the back casting spells like it was a damn adventuring party and not a meaningless random encounter. The damn hammer didn’t burn the orc. Bastard must have been Lawful. Explained why they used such a sensible strategy despite their lackluster intelligence.

Thankfully, instead of boosting its warriors, the idiot shaman tried to cast paralysis on the sturdy dwarf, using some kind of an ugly voodoo doll. Hilda didn’t even feel it. She yawned in the monster’s face, causing it to flush a shade darker. It’d replaced the voodoo doll with a small crow skull, which it pulled from one of its endless leather pouches. Hilda noted with disgust that the pouches were made from humanoid testicles and breasts. Her desire to brain the obscene idolator redoubled.

“Stupid ape!” Hilda shouted, waving a gauntleted fist in the air. “You really think your cheap tricks can withstand the justice of the Gods!”

“You attack us!” the creature complained, its bird cap bobbing like an affronted pelican.

“Ah… the cry of the robbed bandit...” Hilda sneered. Then she started shrieking, startling even the ghoul, who’d never heard the dwarf shout before, especially not in her harsh and guttural native language.

“The tombs of your ancient kings I devastated! I exposed their bones to the sun!” Spittle flew from the dwarf’s lips as she roared ancient oaths of enmity from before the Disaster. These she remembered very well. She had a picture book as a kid. “I trampled underfoot your holy symbols and exposed the weakness of your gods!”

She banged her gauntleted fist against her shield, her face flushed with fury. “The noise of people, the glad shouts of rejoicing, I banished from your lands!”

The dwarf’s eyes shone blinding yellow as her oath reverberated in the dark vastness of the chapel. For a moment, she wasn’t the sour and sleepy creature Philly grew used to sharing her cave with. She was the vengeful hammer of the Moon. Hilda took a deep breath and delivered the coup de grace, bellowing the phrase that was drilled into her every day for three years until it was suffused with enough hate and resentment to truly become magic.

“The wrath of the dwarfs is upon you!”

No one had any idea what she was saying because she was speaking liturgical Dwarf, a language even she barely understood, but the effect was undeniable. The orcs were deeply shaken, suffering disadvantage to both attacks and morale. Their charge was reduced to a trot, hesitant and halfhearted. Even their shaman seemed to question its faith.

If there’s no doubt in your heart, Hilda remembered her Captain telling her when he found her crying alone in a small cave one day. It will move to the hearts of your enemies. He then demonstrated how Diplomacy wasn’t a totally useless skill after all. It could be used to terrify your enemies. He then took her by the hand and changed her life.

However, despite the blow to their morale, the orcs were still big and strong and mean. Hilda steeled herself as a rain of blows landed on her from all directions. The most painful blow came from her own hammer, denting her shield and causing a whooping 14 points of damage. The other two blows landed at odd angles and didn’t penetrate her armor.

Even as Hilda staggered under the withering assault, the ghoul pounced with a snarl, landing on a spear-wielding orc. The brute lost his footing and fell on his back with the ghoul straddling him. His spear protruded from between her lean ribs, coated in blood as black and thick as naphtha.

No matter, she was a tough monster and the orc will soon be a dead monster. Her first claw swipe across his face paralyzed him with a powerful toxin. Next the ghoul leaned down and tore his throat out, spraying herself and the orcs with dark blood. Even as the thing’s blood sprayed all over the ghoul, she rolled out her huge tongue and licked her face clean. Say one thing for Philly, say she knew how to make internal organs external.

The orcs gaped in terror, amazement and… arousal? Ew!

Hilda used the orcs’ distraction to bash the monster that had the audacity to steal her hammer with her bent shield. Her awkward attack inflicted only minimal damage but caused the orc to stagger back and trip over the crouching ghoul.

Hilda snorted in amusement and turned toward the last orc facing her just in time to deflect a spear stab to her face. While she managed to keep her face pretty, the superb elven blade easily slid through her battered armor and left her bleeding from her armpit. 11 more points of damage. Ouch. She was now below half her hp and had a disadvantage to attacks until cured.

Hilda had almost called out for Philly to come help her but then decided against distracting the ghoul from her advantageous position versus the prone orc who’d just tripped over her. The two were grappling and Philly needed all her luck and concentration to deal with the stronger and heavier opponent.

Hilda took a few steps back, wincing as the leaf-shaped blade tore free from her bleeding armpit and cast heal wounds on herself. She’d used a second level spell slot, but the stupid spell only restored 7 points of damage. Still, it did accomplish its main objective -- removing her handicap.

The orc with the elven spear snarled, its breath reeking so bad it could be considered a breath attack. “Cowa! Figh wit’ hona!”

Hilda rolled her eyes. “There’s no greater honor than winning, you oversized goblin.”

Their conversation was accompanied by the sound of one orc gasping for air through the red ruin that was once its throat and another making that sound people make when they’re bleeding really hard. Like when you carelessly open a bottle of champagne that really, really doesn’t want to be opened.

Hilda glanced at the ghoul. She and the orc with the hammer were rolling on the sticky floor, the orc punching her in the kidney one fist while choking her with the other, keeping her deadly fangs mere centimeters from his snout. The ghoul meanwhile was using one paw to tear at the muscular arm squeezing her slender neck and another to tear at the orc’s face. The bastard must have resisted her paralysing poison, reducing the fight to a contest of strength. This wasn’t good. He was easily twice as heavy as the ghoul. Hilda wanted to help her… friend, but she had her own orc to deal with and--

Through the grunting and the cursing and the dying, Hilda heard another sound. Some kind of chanting that sounded vaguely familiar. In fact--

“Phil’ka, look out!” the dwarf shouted, using the dwarfish suffix by mistake. Come to think of it, did she shout in Common or Dwarf? She wasn’t sure. Most people tripped over their feet when they panicked. Hilda tripped over her tongue. Even when not panicking.

The ghoul turned to look at the dwarf, her chest and face glistening with two types of blood, and tilted her head at the dwarf questioningly. Her eyes widened as a spear tip exploded from her chest. The orc attached to the spear had a jagged scar across its throat. It was sloppy healing magic, Hilda’s own spells never left a mark. However, it was healing magic nevertheless. Worse, it was mass healing magic.

While Hilda gaped, the orc beneath Philly picked up his hammer and smashed it into the side of the ghoul’s head with all his might. The ghoul went down. Four pairs of red, hateful eyes were now upon the unarmed dwarf.