Sandwhisperer

XIV. Gundar's Signal

Gundar, fueled by the zeal of a greenhorn on the cusp of adventure, took his post between the arena and the barracks where the children were confined. His mission was clear: to watch for the moment the captives were moved from the basement cells to the hall, a crucial step in their daring rescue plan. Around him, the bustling noise of Orctown seemed to dim, replaced by a suffocating tension that made even the air feel heavy with anticipation.

Gundar, concealed in the shadows that clung to the walls of Orctown like a second skin, kept his eyes peeled for the agreed-upon signal. His entire body was tense, a coiled spring ready to release at the slightest provocation. The importance of his role weighed heavily on him, a tangible reminder of the delicate thread upon which their plan hung.

Then, as if summoned by his intense concentration, the signal that Gundar had been so anxiously awaiting materialized. It wasn't a grand gesture or a conspicuous flare; rather, it was the sight of the Orc guard captain, a figure of authority and command within the barracks, hastening into the building accompanied by two of his underlings. To any casual onlooker, this movement might appear mundane, part of the daily ebb and flow of military life. However, to Gundar and his allies, this specific action was charged with significance. It had been chosen as their cue, a discreet but unmistakable sign that the orcs were about to bring the children out, marking the moment for Gundar to spring into action.

This was more than just a signal; it was the herald of a critical phase in their operation, a meticulously planned moment that relied on precise timing and the element of surprise. As the Orc guard captain and his minions disappeared into the barracks, Gundar felt a rush of adrenaline surge through his veins, a potent mix of nerves and excitement. This was the moment of truth, the point at which their careful preparations met the unpredictable reality of execution.

With the signal observed and the captain's hurried entrance marking the commencement of their critical phase, Gundar sprang into action. He stealthily emerged from his concealment, his strides purposeful and resolute, guiding him toward the stables designated as his crucial station in their elaborate scheme. His heart thundered, a symphony of anticipation and resolve, echoing the transition from meticulous planning to the precipice of action. This moment represented the pivotal juncture, the initial domino poised to catalyze the cascade of their audacious endeavor.

Gundar's advance toward the stables was driven by a mixture of fierce determination and the exhilarating thrill of embarking on a decisive act. Each step, infused with the energy of impending action, carried him closer to the heart of their plan. The anticipation within him swelled, a torrent of emotion and readiness converging as he approached his critical role in the unfolding drama.

As the stables loomed closer, the weight of the moment settled upon Gundar. The signal from the Orc guard captain had not only indicated the time to act but had also ignited the spark of initiative within him. Now, as he prepared to set their plan into motion, Gundar stood on the threshold of chaos and opportunity. In these crucial seconds, he transformed from a mere conspirator to the architect of upheaval, ready to unleash the sequence of events that would either pave their way to triumph or entangle them further in the perilous web of Orctown's dark machinations.

With a swift movement that belied his size, Gundar retrieved a small, unassuming flask from his pocket. The flask contained meatberries oil, a substance known for its potent aroma, irresistible to the wargs. He glanced around, ensuring no prying eyes were upon him, before sending his own signal to Tharok—a flash of light, brief but unmistakable, like a shooting star in the night sky.

Then, with the naivety of a young warrior convinced of the righteousness of his cause, Gundar began his crucial part of the plan. He moved stealthily near the stables, each step deliberate and cautious, as he started leaving traces of the oil. His hands were steady, but inside, his emotions churned—a mix of adrenaline-fueled excitement and the gnawing fear of the unknown.