Two hours west of Bridgeford, a hunting pack of 4 Chaos Brutes (Scale mail, Shields, Battle-axes) set upon our heroes (Two clerics, One rogue, One mage, One fighter) in the grasslands between the wooded foothills where the elder temple is to be found, and the town itself.

A Brute’s flawless attack knocks the fighter down in one blow, rendering him unconscious (bloody, but not bleeding to death). Another of the Brutes likewise cleaves an entire arm from one of the clerics, death proving instantaneous due to shock and blood loss.

But then the magic user finally gets a spell off, and drops the remaining Brutes.

Afterwards, back to Bridgeford and Father Rhall, for last rights. And hopefully fair trade on four sets of scale mail, several shields, and a battle-axe of high quality. Perhaps some additional hirelings, before word gets out about the latest exploits in the wilderlands west of Bridgeford makes recruitment more difficult.

Those Chaos Brutes are no joke.