Coughing, throat-ripping and coppery, interspersed with snarls, made Svarog sound like an angry bear as he hauled the dwarf out of the house. He set her on the ground quickly when he spotted the orcs, but caution tingled in the back of his mind - had Jarrek made it out?
A quick glance confirmed that he had, and Svarog stalked forward, wheezing from smoke-soured lungs, his eyes red from the sting of ashes. Pulling his sword from its sheath with the long, shrill sound of metal on metal, he spat to one side - all the condemnation the orcs needed.
Then he charged.
+2 flank?
Dragging the unconscious half-orc from the building, Svarog is briefly taken aback when he emerges next to a singed-looking orc. That brief hesitation is not long enough for the orc to avoid the blow that the ranger sends its way, and he cuts it down cleanly.
Jarrek is too slow to get in on the fun, and he grins toothily at Svarog as his friend cuts down the last orc. "Beat me to it, Svarog! Good shot!" The garrulous half-orc looks at the dead or something and shakes his head. "Looks like you all have this covered! Svarog and I could just go get a drink!"
Jarrek pulls out his heavy falchion and rushes the last standing orc. "Hey, ugly!"
Round 4 (ongoing):
Initiative order
Jarrek-acted
Orc-acted
Haftor
Svarog-
Trianne
Kira
Jarrek's sudden attack is lacking in accuracy, but the broad sweep of his two-handed blade interrupts the orc's attack on Haftor, allowing the dwarf to escape unscathed...for now.
Svarog wasted no time in spinning to slash at the last orc as well. Leather creaked and steel sang as he beat the foe back, step by step, with Jarrek. Demonstrating the swordsmanship he had learned among the dwarves, a style efficient and powerful, he cut the bleeding orc down.
Blinking eyes watering from the smoke, he looked about for any further trouble before turning his searching gaze to Agrit and Sara.
"She needs healing," he commented in Haftor's direction. He didn't say more; that Sara would be unlikely to make it out of this part of town alive without it, even carried or dragged, was clear, and needed no elaboration. It was up to Haftor whether calling on his god was deemed a good use of his resources; that needed no elaboration, either.
Ready to fight, or to heft Sara's weight should Haftor be unwilling to bless her, he wiped off his sword on the fallen orc's shirt, and quickly searched the orcs for anything of value. Fitting, that an orc raid result in the orcs' own death and loss.
Haftor rumbles a brief orison to Torag, and Sara's bleeding stops. With her stabilized, you're able to move her to the field hospital.
“And away from this building,” Trianne added, eyeing the conflagration. “It’s not going to hold much longer.”
She moved up and leveled her crossbow again, swiveling and searching ahead into the main thoroughfare for anymore potential threats as the group moved. She wasn’t really built for carrying wounded, but she could certainly keep an eye out or sound an alarm.
Seeing that Agrit and Svarog were both suffering from the smoke more than he was, Jarrek scooped Sara up into his arms and scrambled to the field hospital as fast as the group could move. Once she was settled, he looked around for something to get the soot off his face and hands and cut the taste of smoke in his throat.
He grinned at the group. It seemed like he was made for this kind of action. "Let's get back out there! Lots more people to save!"
The four orcs had only their crude but effective falchions, four javelins each, some twenty silver between them, and each wore a filthy suit of studded leather armor.
Once Sara was in the capable hands of the healers, though, Agrit approaches you. In an impressive display of dwarven stoicism, she thanks each of you formally for your efforts. The facade only cracks once, as she removes a necklace and hands it over. It's gold set with moonstones and white agates, with a single large pearl as a centerpiece. "You might need this. That's a first-level pearl of power there. Good luck--I'm going to see Sara to the Longhouse, and then I have to carve the price of a house out of orc flesh."
Before moving on to the next building, though, Jarrek spots something by the well in the center of the plaza. The area around the well is littered with the dead--orcs and humans, men and women, children and the elderly. Veins of watery blood crawl from the base of the well, spreading from the limp body of a slain Trunauan guard draped over the side. It was the reflected firelight from the heavy steel shield slung over the guard's shoulder that Jarrek saw.
The fallen guard has some other equipment as well--a sheathed longsword, a case of eight crossbow bolts, fifty feet of hemp rope, and a couple of major prizes: a healer's kit with all ten uses remaining, and a key.
The four orcs had only their crude but effective falchions, four javelins each, some twenty silver between them, and each wore a filthy suit of studded leather armor.
Jarrek grunts and shakes his head. "Maybe this armor might be able to get cleaned up and used by someone for something useful, but I don't know who around here would wear armor that came off one of these orcs." He quickly relieved the orcs of their javelins, though.
Once Sara was in the capable hands of the healers, though, Agrit approaches you. In an impressive display of dwarven stoicism, she thanks each of you formally for your efforts. The facade only cracks once, as she removes a necklace and hands it over. It's gold set with moonstones and white agates, with a single large pearl as a centerpiece. "You might need this. That's a first-level pearl of power there. Good luck--I'm going to see Sara to the Longhouse, and then I have to carve the price of a house out of orc flesh."
Jarrek nods the caster's tool toward Trianne. "It's what we're here to do. We're going to save as many people as we can. Watch yourself when you go hunting."
The fallen guard has some other equipment as well--a sheathed longsword, a case of eight crossbow bolts, fifty feet of hemp rope, and a couple of major prizes: a healer's kit with all ten uses remaining, and a key.
Jarrek sighs and shakes his head, speaking quietly to the guard's body. "You did your best. Probably let some people get away while you made your stand. Thank you for this, it will help."
As you lay the fallen guard out, a capped potion vial falls from his hand. Kira readily identifies it as a potion of cure light wounds.
As you disposition the equipment taken from the dead guard, Agrit and Sara's house collapses in a rush of smoke and flames. The fire has also taken the small building next to it, but the three small houses by the tower still stand. Jarrek directs you to them next.
"We better move before that fire spreads."
Haftor, disheveled and sweaty, grunts in disappointment when he sees the house collapse. He immediately begins to move, following Jarrek.
Svarog nodded to Jarrek when the half-orc took over carrying Sara. Like him, he tied a bit of wet cloth around his mouth before he switched his sword for his bow, and moved on with the others.
When Agrit gave them her gift, he knew it would do no good to refuse - that wasn't the dwarf way. "We will put it to the best use - we will save who we can," he echoed, kneeling to clasp her arm briefly. "Good hunting to you." He nodded for Trianne to take it in his typically laconic manner.
He stood watch over the fallen as Jarrek took what could be used from the dead, still wheezing slightly from the smoke.
Wow, it's smoky here.
The alchemist has been subdued while the party has been sweeping the town, looking at every one of the fallen to see if it's a member of her family. She rouses herself as you approach the three houses, though. "Wait. I just heard someone moving in that one. And look at the shadow by the window there? That's an orc!"
“Whoa, appreciated,” Trianne held a staying hand up as the pearl of power headed in her direction. Then she gestured toward Haftor. “But blood serves blood,” she said. “That should go to the one who can mend flesh in times like these.”
***
Trianne's eyes watered against the haze as they moved closer to the fires, but she turned and raised her crossbow in the direction Kira indicated.
"Gah, where, Kira? I can't see anything in this smoke."
Trusting in Kira's senses with his own weakened from the smoke, Svarog moved up beside the door (or window?) to the building, his back against the wall, ready to shoot inside as soon as Haftor and Jarrek moved in. He nodded for Kira and Trianne to join him, prepared to lob the fear of Torag into the orcs.
...-_-; He's... still coughing?
"I didn't see it, but let's go! Let's show these orcs why Trunau's still here after all these years!" Jarrek rushes the door, falchion held high.
Haftor takes the pearl from Trianne, nodding in acknowledgement of her logic. He quickly puts the necklace on, comments, "I wish I had a mirror," then clomps off after Jarrek. He positions himself outside the door, waiting to see what happens when it's opened.
Kira settles into a position against the wall with her back to it, crossbow at the ready. Nodding towards Svarog as she moves with him the moment the door is opened.
Trianne didn’t care to bunch up. She was well aware of what magics could do to clusters of targets. Plus she was the fleetest among them by far. So as each made their move, Trianne darted across the opening and pulled up on the far side opposite Svarog’s position.
She scanned for enemies and began weaving the beginnings of an incantation, readying to smack anything unfriendly that reared its head.
Jarrek shoves open the door and steps in, immediately facing an astonished orc and chopping into it with his falchion. The experienced bard realizes that this one is hurt badly enough that it's running on anger alone. Kira fires past him at another one, wounding it. It shies just as Svarog fires, its reflex taking it barely out of the way of the ranger's arrow. Trianne can see a third orc beyond Jarrek, and casts her spell at it. The magic bites on the orc, who obligingly stands still.
The two wounded orcs attack the bard, both hitting solidly . A third one bursts from the other room, followed by a fourth.
Round 2:
Initiative order
Party
Orcs
The orcs' weapons find gaps in his armor and Jarrek falls heavily to the floor, not bleeding to death but in bad shape.
Trianne hissed at the clubbing delivered to Jarrek, and she instinctively backed up. Raising her crossbow, she fired into the tightly packed room.
“Jarrek down!” she called out. “I count five in there!”
The bolt zipped through the smoke, clipping one of the orcs as it slid to one side for cover. She ratcheted another bolt into position before the echo of her voice had even faded, bracing for the orc surge that would surely come.
Trianne squinted into the obscure chamber, realizing she had misjudged. What she thought had been the bolt ricocheting away must have been a flap of the orc's armor. The fletching of her bolt could be seen jutting from the creature's arm as it moved in profile.
Taking a step back, Svarog mentally cursed the infernal smoke that made him cough so badly, throwing off his aim. Targeting the nearest orc, he drew back his string to the breaking point, the double-recurved bow creaking from the pull.
The strenuous training he had gone through at the behest of his dwarven mentors echoed in his mind, their advice and calm orders stilling his breathing and hands. *"The orcs have their weaknesses, Svarog, as do we all. Learn to exploit them - aim there, and there."*
That steadiness, the power of the immovable mountains that dwelled in dwarven hearts, was passed on to him through that training. He didn't smile when his arrow struck true - smiling did not come easily to him - but he grunted his satisfaction, and nocked another arrow, preparing for the rush.
Round 2 (ongoing):
Initiative order
Trianne-acted
Svarog-acted
Jarrek-unconscious
Haftor
Kira
Orcs
Trianne sinks a crossbow bolt deep into one of the orcs that brought Jarrek down, and Svarog follows that up with an arrow that nearly kills it.
With the foes bunched up and one party member down, Kira tosses a bomb at one of the orcs in the rear. It bursts, sending the most wounded orc to the Boneyard and wounded the remaining fresh orcs.
Haftor advances to stand by the doorway, where only one of the orcs can reach him at a time. The footing is bad, though, and he's unable to hit the first one to come at him.
Luckily for the dwarf, the first orc to reach him staggers over Jarrek's body and is too badly wounded to do more than that. The other orcs shriek insults at it.
Round 3:
Initiative order
Party
Orcs
Hrmph. The warpriest found himself in a nice tactical position, but feared he could not hold it for long considering his wounds. He said a swift prayer to Torag for healing,
then swung his warhammer again.
"Step up yeh gutless scoundrels! There be plenty o'hammer here fer all of yeh!"
Seeing Haftor stand alone against the orc melee, Svarog turned his arrow toward distracting the orc the dwarf had chosen to attack. It svirped past the orc's head at an inopportune moment - just as Haftor attacked.
Kira unhooks another bomb from the bandoleer across her chest and thumbs the trigger ring. Pulling her arm back, Kira throws the bomb into the back of the Orc group again.
Trianne continued to move, shuffling with careful steps to maintain an elusive target as she raised the crossbow. Too much smoke and too many intervening bodies made the shot risky beyond her comfort. She lowered the weapon and fired off a quick incantation.
The hot air sizzled with energy as a crackling string of light lashed out and licked one of the tightly packed orc intruders.
Haftor misses, and Trianne is likewise unable to get a clear shot with her energy bolt .
The tide of battle seems to have turned against the heroes, as Kira narrowly misses her target as well. However, the lone orc able to reach Haftor does an even worse job striking at the dwarf.
Round 4:
Initiative order
Party
Orcs
Pleased that the orcs were too stupid to avoid crowding the door, Svarog took aim at the foremost of them once again.
He clenched his teeth as his arrow zipped harmlessly past, but the dwarves didn't train quitters. Drawing another arrow, he prepared to shoot again.
Trianne watched Svarog fire fiercely into the melee, and her head tilted with calculating concern. She wasn’t fond of the risks of shooting bolts into such a fray, but the savage native acted as if the occurrence were both common and accepted.
She raised her crossbow but hesitated again, not sure enough with her aim, despite Haftor’s shorter stature. She let her crossbow drop once more and reached out with the much more familiar arcane.
Her mouth curled up confidently as the crackle of energy hummed and snaked overhead, biting into one of the invaders.
Round 4 (ongoing):
Initiative order
Svarog-acted
Trianne-acted
Haftor
Kira
Orcs
The wily (or exceedingly lucky) orcs still manage to avoid being hit by Svarog's normally-accurate archery. Trianne manages to hit the last unstaggered orc, though, and as it convulses in pain it opens some blood vessel already damaged by the previous attack on it.
Svarog's aim is true. Orcish ferocity is a fearsome thing, but it's no match for an arrow through the skull. The lead orc collapses over Jarrek's still form.
Haftor suddenly realized that he was not immediately threatened by his enemies. He gave an appreciative nod to Svarog for his handy marksmanship, then reached down and touched Jarrek, transferring the healing Fervor of Torag over to the half-orc.