Jarrek grunts as the arrow slams into him but powers forward, vial of alchemist's fire ready to throw, but the explosion knocks him off his feet and drops him to the ground, knocked out cold.
Kira lobs a bomb at the bombardier and his companion.
Trianne ratchets another bolt into place and raises the crossbow once more, sighting through the smoke and screams. The fletching shears off the bolt though and it skitters wildly through the air over the orcs' heads.
Trianne moves a little closer to the fray and further away from Kira with all of the grenades that have been flying.
Jarrek grunts as the arrow slams into him but powers forward, tossing his vial of alchemist's fire as he charges the bombardier.
Haftor stumps along, making a sort of huffing noise with every step. He pauses for just a second to aim and fire his crossbow, then keeps moving.
Apparently rattled by the approaching party, both of the orcs you can see launch arrows at Jarrek but miss.
Round 4:
Initiative order
Haftor-
Svarog
Trianne
Jarrek
Kira
Orcs
Jarrek roars and charges the pair of orcs, huge blade held high and screaming in Orcish. "Tell Gorum hello for me!" His blade kindles with flickers of flame as he rushes the pair
With her companion engaged in melee, Kira switches to her crossbow, determined to take down the bombardier before he could do more damage.
As Jarrek clears the rocks, the last orc releases the arrow it's been holding, striking the half-orc Even staggered, though, Jarrek hits the already-wounded bombardier solidly. Kira's followup crossbow bolt puts it closer to death, but orc ferocity is a terrible thing: it still stands.
Svarog snarled under his breath. Orcs thought they had the right to take anything, anywhere, at any time. Echoes from his own past spurred him to fire faster, faster yet, at the bombardier and his gang.
at Black
at Green
Svarog takes a short step forward and fires off two arrows in rapid succession. The first puts paid to the green orc, who collapses to the ground and gasps out a final curse with its dying breath. The second leaves the black orc much closer to death, but its ferocity keeps it moving.
As Jarrek crashed into the orcs, Trianne lowered her crossbow and ran, concentrating on clearing the debris in her path. With her nimble, loping strides, she cleared the obstacle with ease and brought her arm around. Her forward momentum was accentuated by the whip crack of energy that lashed out at the rear most orc.
Jarrek could feel the sizzling energy as it snaked between him and the stone, but it fell inches short of the raging creature and snuffed out before doing harm.
The black orc staggers forward and sends an arrow towards Trianne, but its wounds have taken a toll on its accuracy. The other orc drops its bow and draws a falchion, striking at Jarrek. The bard dodges aside, though.
Round 5:
Initiative order
Haftor-
Svarog
Trianne
Jarrek
Kira
Orcs
Kira moves closer, racking another bolt and firing at the orc trying to take down Jarrek.
Weaving woozily on his feet and with an arrow sticking out of his chest, Jarrek nonetheless bares his teeth at the orc and growls in Orcish. "I'll see you dead if it's the last thing I do." Huge blade alight with pale fire, he swipes back at his assailant.
Then, his furious energy spent, the huge warrior collapses to the ground.
Kira's crossbow bolt narrowly misses the orc, but Jarrek's furious blow is on target. The orc still stands despite it, laughing as the half-orc falls.
Impressed by Jarrek's stand despite himself, Svarog squinted at the battlefield when the half-orc fell. He had comported himself well; now was the time to make sure no killing blow fell upon him.
And Trianne was close, too close. Dangerously close.
Svarog whipped out his arrows and sent them at the orc once more; no prayer to any god for him, only the certainty that they could yet lose this battle, should one of them fall for good.
"Laugh at this, villain," Svarog snarled as an impact rocked the orc.
Svarog's first arrow stops laughter. Unfortunately, animation and danger remain, though now both of the remaining orcs are running on rage.
Haftor has begun to make a noise like a mule forced to trot against its will. He huffs and puffs as he clomps steadily toward his opponents, finally reaching the fight to stand over the recently fallen Jarrek. "Yer really askin' for a thumpin' now, yeh great clods. Now scat, or ye'll get what for!"
Another bolt gets slotted into Trianne's crossbow, and she swings the aim of it over Haftor’s head and at the wounded orc leaning near the great rocks. Hells if she could hit anything as the bolt skittered off the rock, but she was doing her damndest to keep the orcs distracted until the actual cavalry arrived.
Trianne misses, but Haftor puts himself into harm's way and prepares to meet the orcs' onslaught.
The orc with the falchion takes a swing at the dwarf, but misses. The orc with the bow staggers back a step and fires at the dwarf, but nearly hits its companion.
Round 6:
Initiative order
Haftor-
Svarog
Trianne
Jarrek-unconscious
Kira
Orcs
Kira hadn't noticed the other orc, but with Haftor facing down the one looming over Jarrek she now moves closer again, shifting to the left to fire at the reeling archer.
"Ygrendir!" Haftor bellows a war-cry at the suddenly hapless orcs, convinced that he has,at least temporarily, received Torag's grace. He hammers at his opponent with a grim glee.
Haftor absolutely splatters the blue orc, acid sizzling in what's left of its skull as it collapses lifeless to the ground.
Trianne coiled a fist of shimmering energy as she advanced, punching out at the final orc. The ball of magic caught the invader in one leg with a jarring thump.
Trianne's glancing blow knocks the final orc to the ground. It struggles to rise, but in its weakened state the effort is too much for it.
Svarog scanned their surroundings for any sign of further threat, then stalked to Jarrek's side, where he knelt and checked the half-orc for signs of life.
"He will live. He stood bravely. Will you grant him healing, Haftor?" Svarog asked, already rummaging for any healing potions that might help Jarrek, in case the answer was no.
The orcs have a lot of stuff, but none of it seems to be healing magic.
On the orcs:
2 unerring grenades
6 alchemist's fire
6 smokesticks
3 tanglefoot bags
3 composite shortbows (+3 STR)
Near the catapult:
1 alchemist's lab
3 bags flash powder
6 fuse grenades
2 pellet grenades (one cold iron, one adamantine)
1 tangleburn bag
Jarrek groans as he rolls onto his back and just stares up at the sky for a few seconds. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."
Kira, meanwhile, goes around collecting the dangerous alchemical items from the orcs. She wonders out loud "Who is making all of these things for them?"
Trianne whistled in a low, long tone at the amount of materials they found in the vicinity of the catapult. Two fingers went to her mouth and a shrill whistle followed. Her raven zipped down from somewhere nearby and landed on her shoulder with a fierce grace. She fed a strip of dried meat and chirruped to the bird a few times before turning her glowing eyes onto the scene. Not sensing anything of significant magical nature, she released the raven back into the sky, his services not necessary for now.
Trianne collected a few items but left the rest for Kira who could make the most of them.
“What do we do with that?” she inquired, motioning to the catapult.
Haftor knows enough engineering to make a decent stab at a targeting roll, and can direct the rest of the party in loading and firing the catapult. Unfortunately, the giant is currently nowhere to be seen, although there are enough orcs outside the walls that the catapult has a sufficiency of targets.
That said, there are enough orcs outside the walls that once they start taking shots it's quite likely that they'll mount an attack (if only to retake the last siege weapon they appear to have at the moment).
Jarrek pushed himself off the ground and grunted, massaging his aching chest where the arrows had come out during his healing as he scanned the area outside the walls. "They'll swarm us if we start using it against them. Let's just chop it up and get the hell out of here." He unslings his pack and reaches back to pull the greataxe off his back, looking like a man ready to go to work.
Kira looks over from gathering up nasty orcish alchemical weapons and shouts "Wait!" She hustles over and gestures for Jarrek to put his axe away. "I can do something to make sure the orcs can't use it anymore, but keep it intact. Just give me a minute." The alchemist starts looking the catapult over to figure out how to do just that.
Haftor retrieves his crossbow and loads it while Kira fiddles with the catapult.
He plants his fists on his hips, surveying his hated enemies outside the walls. "Well, we've still got a job of work to do. What next?"
Kira is unable to figure out how to disable it at first glance.
Kira grunts and shakes her head, stepping back from the catapult. "Anything I can think of will just break it anyway and be easier to fix than if you just chop off the arm." She sighs, clearly frustrated. "Go ahead, then."
Jarrek steps forward, both hands on his greataxe as he starts to take the catapult apart.
Jarrek, Haftor, and Svarog chop the important bits of the catapult into kindling, and the party retreats before the orc forces can reach them. As the party approaches the walls, one of the militia squad leaders hails them. "Can you get back to the Hopespring? Kurst and his riders forced the giant into the walls, and for some reason it made a beeline for the spring. Cavalry can't maneuver through the rubble, or the riders'd follow. The signal team had to retreat from the beacon there, too."
Passing through a gap in the wall, Trunau's defenders seem to be holding up. From bursts of conversation, you understand that Agrit and Omast Frum led a counterattack that cleared much of the space inside the walls before they had to retreat from the giant. Your removal of the drummer from the tower had a marked effect on the orcs' morale, as did the total loss of their forces in the Inner Quarter.
Jarrek grins at Haftor and the others, a mad gleam in his eye. "Who wants to go kill a giant?"
Haftor surveys the group, grumbling under his breath regarding the risks involved going up against a giant with wounded party members. He nods grimly at Jarrek's question, but his reliably dour attitude outweighs his obvious desire to bring down a hated giant.
"Let's have a look at those wounds, then."
Jarrek grins at Haftor. "Never felt better! I'm ready to end this myself!" While Haftor is taking care of Svarog, though, Jarrek turns away from the group and sneaks a couple of his own potions.