<br/>With the camp in chaos and more bugbears down than up at this point, the commander of the beasts is beginning to look hesitant.  Standing on his side of the flames with Hjalmar, Sydney, and one of his lackeys he lets out a roar of rage and hatred, simply shouting out to the sky his disgust at how things have fallen apart.  But now it's a simple setup.  The rest of the camp can bugger themselves.  "You dare insult Gretru Grushmaw?" comes his roar of anger as he stares down the much shorter dwarf before letting out another roar of spittle-filled rage.<br/><br/><br/>This is cut off abruptly by Sydney's nearby application of magic to an altogether different tense situation.<br/><br/><br/>The ball of force sputters and flicks, perhaps oddly potent in this moment with so much for Sydney to pull upon.  Whatever the cause, when she turns it on the red furred bugbear rushing forward to her, there is a burst of sound and light that accompanies it that draws, for a moment, Gretru's eyes.  He throws up an arm just in time to miss the bugbear being blasted through with force, his body hurled backwards with an ugly burned hole through his center.  The scent of burned fur once again rises from this half of the camp.<br/><br/><br/>The look of shock of Gretru's face quickly turns back into heated determination, a snarl of hatred coming from him as he throws his javelin at the mage.  It fires true, the heavy wood and heavy steel head ready to pierce her.  But Hjalmar's axe is just a bit too fast.  It slams the javelin down into the dirt and he is there before the bugbear.<br/><br/><br/>The bugbear stands massive in front of the dwarf, glaring down at him with a snarl and panting breath of rage.  "Puny dwarf.  I'll feed you to my fuckin' pets when I'm done with you!" he roars out as he pulls from his back a massive, impressive looking hammer.  This one has none of the dirt-poor practicality of the other bugbear's weapons, it is a piece of art, the silver head caked in mud and dirt, but obviously carved by knowledgeable hands.<br/><br/><br/>He swings the hammer in wide arcs, but faster than any human would be able to, slamming holes into the ground as he bares down on the dwarf.  "And maybe I'll keep your hide for a rug.  You smell of shifter," he adds with a cruel grin splitting his face.<br/><br/><br/>The dwarf swings his sword at the bugbear, but Gretru is able to block the shaft with his buckler, pushing the dwarf back a step and swinging his massive hammer straight for his bearded face.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Well fired, Sydney!  You roasted him!  (I took the 2d4 because that was the correct roll! &lt;3)  Now on this side of the camp, it's just Sydney, Hjalmar, and Gretru Grushmaw, Bane of the Southwoods. <br/><br/><br/>Hjalmar!  You spent 1 hold to defend Sydney, but now you've got to Defy Danger if you want to avoid getting hit by that hammer! (If you do, you can still half the damage!  If you don't, hey good stuff!)  Once you've Defied Danger, feel free to pose an attack in the same post if you'd like to.</strong><br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Delvers... What do you do?</strong>