Dan blinked as several frogmen emerged from the undergrowth with frightening speed. The Dark Elf in the lead acted with almost equally surprising speed, throwing a large stick at the unprepared Adventurer. The young man fumbled the wooden shaft as it splashed into the mucky water. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" he complained as he bent down to pick up the stick. His whining was cut short as the Bullywug troupe had broken into two groups. It was painfully obvious to group that they were about to be flanked. Eight Bullyugs on the right and seven to the left. They moved quickly, hopping over the slimy ground with ease.
"Yikes!" he exclaimed as he scrambled to locate the walking stick, which had slipped into a muck-filled puddle. The walking stick eluded him. His hand, however, closed around a slime covered rock, which he promptly flung at one the charging frogs dashing in from the left. The soft-ball sized missle sped through the air until it came to rest upon the face of his intended target with a sickening smack.
The Adventurer drew in closer to his comrades, his hand straying to the not-so-trusty length of leather hanging from his belt.
