To Fell the Fel [Great]

[Kakashi Hatake]

The quintet made their way closer to the orc encampment, the sounds of strife growing ever louder as they closed the distance. As the din grew louder, so too did a strong, pungent stench. Kakashi presumed this was the aroma that Pakkun had picked up back at Mokugakure, a mixture of equal parts burning and rotting flesh. The group continued their feverish pursuit, keeping their nose on the nauseating smell, the ears on the screams and the crashes.

“Ahead!” Pakkun uttered, slowing to a stop. The rest of the group followed suit, peering through the thinning trees into a clearing.

The clearing was staggering in size, nearly 100 x 40 meters if the shinobi had to guess. The trees that once swallowed the glade had been torn asunder, a multitude of holes marking where the noble trunks once stood. The trees themselves had been re-purposed, some cobbled together to form makeshift huts, others stacked in the enormous pyre that stood in the center of the camp, some 30 meters from where the squad now stood. The immediate vicinity seemed vacant; Kakashi’s sharingan confirmed that the huts nearest the group were indeed empty. The camp’s denizens were likely located at the other end, the copy ninja reasoned, where the clamor seemed to be emanating from. Wordlessly the group skimmed the edge of the clearing, nearing the clamor. The sounds of screaming had ceased, replaced with what sounded like the snarl of some type of beast.

“We must hurry!” Larea commanded, quickening her pace. Anxiety crawled up the back of her neck as the sound of the beast’s roar grew louder. The beast’s call was not indicative of impending victory.

“Is that…” Sofia began, squinting through the brush as the group closed in on the scuffle.

At the far end of the camp, a group of around 20 figures stood encircled around what Kakashi could only assume was the source of the commotion. The humanoids stood shoulder-to-shoulder, forming a veritable wall of crimson muscle. 300 pounds of muscle hung from their 7-foot frames, adorn in every manner of armor from nearly nude to heavy plate mail. At their sides hung armaments as varied as their armor, from pieces of lumber up to enormous battle axes and claymores. Though their equipment was diverse, their lust for carnage unified them as they snarled and cheered at the melee that they were spectating.

“Those are Fel Orcs alright,” Dack replied gravely, drawing a pair of daggers from his belt.

“I was referring to the bear,” Sofia retorted snarkily, pointing a finger toward the center of the Orc ring.

“Davian!” the night elf uttered, drawing her bow. With a glance over her shoulder and a nod, she took off toward the makeshift arena.

“Over there!” Dack said, pointing across the clearing. Kakashi’s eyes narrowed as he followed the boy’s gesture, barely making out the shapes of crumpled bodies near the edge of the glade.

“That’ll be our prisoners. Let’s hope that they’re still alive,” the raven-haired woman responded, drawing a shortsword from her side.

“Alright Pakkun, go with them.” The sharingan wielder commanded. “You all should be able to stay out of sight if you cut through the middle, it seems like everyone’s occupied at the moment.”

“Kakashi,” the miniature pug said, looking up at his master. “Might not be a bad idea to call in the canine cavalry. We might need the help.”

The silver-haired shinobi nodded, pulling a kunai from his belt. He gently drew it across his exposed deltoid, blood beginning to trickle from the laceration. Quickly, he dabbed a few fingers in the ichor and began to form the requisite seals. “Summoning Jutsu!”

“About time you called us, eh Kakashi?”

On the sturdy tree limb beside Pakkun now stood the rest of Kakashi’s ninken pack, seven additional canines of varying sizes and breeds. The closest hound to him, a Shiba Inu wearing a small pair of sunglasses, smirked at the summoner.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Akino.” The copy ninja replied, smiling beneath his mask.

“Whattya need then?” a smaller pup inquired, this one a Jack Russell terrier with the kanji for ‘shinobi’ stamped on his forehead.

“I need you to escort my friends here to the far end of the clearing and help them retrieve any survivors. After that, head back toward Mokugakure.”

“Is that what they’re calling themselves?” the tattooed canine chuckled. “Clever.”

“Bisuke, we don’t have time to chat,” Pakkun snapped, hopping onto the head of an enormous black bulldog.

“Yeah yeah...” Bisuke replied. “Let’s go I guess.”

The scarecrow glanced at Sofia and Dack, both of whom seemed decidedly concerned with the caliber of their escorts. “They’re stronger than they look,” he assured them.

Dack nodded, shooting a quick gaze at Larea. The kaldorei woman had taken roost in the upper branches of a nearby oak, standing gracefully on a spindly limb overlooking the clearing. Her bow was drawn taut, an arrow leveled at the group of spectating orcs. Without a word, he leapt into the clearing, Sofia and the ninken in tow. With his companions at work with their own tasks, the silver-haired shinobi began his scan of the area, pouring chakra into his sharingan as he searched for his mark.