But not a single defender was provoked into showing himself, nor was there a single defending archer manning the fortification. Instead, the defending archers stood concealed a good distance back, en masse, to either side of the narrow gap, hugging the steep valley walls.
From a high concealed cleft that afforded a clear view below, Tran's sharp elven eyes scanned the enemy ranks until he spied the whereabouts of the Enemy archers. With hand-gestures he conveyed distances and directions to those waiting below.
In an instant, the defenders returned fire, some of it in massed simultaneous volleys that arced high in the air towards the Enemy archers, the rest of it withering fire that arced just over the wall.
The rain of enemy darts ceased immediately, even as the goblins broke off the attack to minimise their losses. The instant hostilities ceased, there was a scramble among both contenders to retrieve precious arrows and run to safety.
All the while, Tran's eyes searched the Enemy, his eyes fierce with concentration. "Why do you not show yourself, master Warlock?" he muttered under his breath. "Are you all alone, then? There is no other explanation that comes to mind! Alone, your Power is uncertain, for you could be felled by a stray arrow, were you not to see its coming. A sack of the sort of burning, sticky matter flung by catapults, too, would not be wholly quenched by your stave!"