One by one Daedaelus wakes each of you, holding a finger to his lips in a gesture to be silent before moving onto the next one, though from the volume of the voices, you'd probably be woken up soon enough.
"Ah, but that's why you go after the ones surrounded by guards. They's the ones that need protecting and they won't be the one's taking your stones, assuming you haven't lost them already," the first voice says and a chorus of laughter rings out notes on battered and broken horns.
"Bah, den ye's an idiot. Flatlanders don't have guards around wimmins wot needs 'em!"
"Heh, there's som'in' to that," a third voice says through a chuckle, "easy pickin's is the best pickin's I's say."
"Lovely." Idana mutters. "Idiots and rapists. My night is complete."
Idana ensures her sisters are awake and then summons a fog to encircle the camp.
Elyana awoke, sort of, when Daedaelus woke her but, in typical Ely fashion rolled over and went right back under. It wasn't until Idana, who knew her flighty, sleepy headed, sister far to well jostled her awake that Elyana finally rose blearily and cocked her head to one side as she listened to her ghostly advisors and going, "Oh" Very quietly. She grabbed up what little gear she used and rose, ready to fight if need be.
Awakening and quickly rolling up into a sitting position, Olyenna nods as her mind catches up on the situation. Hearing the voices, she is immediately glad she'd slept in her armor.
As Idana summons the fog, she draws her swords.The cover would make ranged combat useless, but with a little luck they'd be on them before they knew what was happening......sort of like what the pigs did to their victims.
She was going to enjoy this.
When Daedaelus awoke Sigurd, he almost ended up with a dagger in his throat before the warrior listened quietly and heard the voices approaching. With gritted teeth, he'd move over to the wagon and wave for the Imperial to help him get some armor on.
Daedaelus nods and helps Sigurd into his armor.
Other than waking up and grabbing his quarterstaff, there is not much else Kieran needs to do in preparation for the upcoming fight. He settles for stretching a little to chase the sleep and grogginess from his body and his mind before moving to take his position alongside his friends.
"Weather's movin' in, boys," The first voice says as the sounds of tromping orcs comes to a stop.
"Dunno 'bout dot boss," a fourth voice says, "Mighty clear fer dere t'be fog."
A chorus of agreement comes from three other voices.
"W'zrd dunit," one of the new voices grunted out in an almost indecipherable slur, which brought up more grunts of agreement.
"Stay back and be ready." Olyenna whispers. "I'll scout a bit. See if I can figure out how many of them there are." she says before creeping off into the fog, remaining in a low crouch, weapons' drawn.
"Olyenna, I do have an invisibility concoction that seems ideal for such a thing," Kieran suggests. "Allow me to scout ahead. Or at least take the potion."
Olyenna nods in agreement, watching Kieran consume the potion and vanish. She waits, giving him a ten second head start before entering the fog herself, hanging back unless the sounds of combat or the presence of orcs calls for action.
With no real preparations left to her Elyana kept Olyenna and the other fighter types between her and the voices and stayed close to Idana to both protect her sister and make it easier for everyone to protect her.
The first orc barks out orders, arranging the others into a formation that ensures that they aren't all bunched up. It takes a little bit for him to cajole a couple of the more stubborn, but by the time Keiran and Olyenna have reached the center of the mystic fog, the orcs are starting to edge cautiously into it. Daedaelus, meanwhile, continues to work furiously to get Sigurd strapped into his armor.
Elyana continued to wait patiently for the foolish orcs to reach them, there was little else she could do for now.
With the fog apparently thickening even more, quite possibly courtesy of Daerdryn, Kieran holds his position a while longer to see if the orcs will continuing moving into and through the mist. Not exactly looking forward to facing them alone -a foolish idea to be sure- he stands ready to turn around and report back to his friends if these new foes do indeed start advancing.
Sigurd quietly complains about how slow Daedaelus is, hasn't he ever put on armor before? Sheesh. :P
Olyenna creeps a little closer awaiting the first sounds of Kieran engaging or sight of one of the orcs blundering through the fog.
The eight orcs whisper excitedly as they stand shoulder to shoulder and begin sweeping the fog.
Daedaelus cinches down one of the straps that is over a sensitive spot a little more roughly than he had been cinching the others and moves on to the next piece.
The tension continues to grow thicker in the air.
The next minute and a half go by with ever mounting tension, those in the mist see the shades of orcs as they pass by, sometimes close enough to see a few details. Daedaelus finishes helping Sigurd with his armor and grabs a sword to arm himself with before following the brutal fighter's footsteps.
Finally strapped in, Sigurd's complaints would stop and he would grin at the young Imperial with an almost mad look in his eye.
"That's a good lad. Now follow my lead and cut down anything I don't kill." The barbarian would whisper, moving closer to the casters and waiting for the moment he caught sight of an Orcish silhouette. As soon as he could clearly distinguish one of them, he would heft his greatsword and begin to move in. Each step was a little faster now as he felt his rage stir within his blood, the call of battle ringing once more. Bringing down his blade, he'd finally shout with a ferocious roar as he struck at the closest one.
Olyenna will move silently through the fog to within 10 ft of an orc then charge.
Quarterstaff gripped in both hands, Kieran follows Olyenna's example and moves silently before charging, aiming his trusted weapon at an orc's spine.
Without a real target for her frustrations just yet Elyana moved a bit closer to the starting melee as quietly as she could.
Three of the orcs are mortally wound by your attacks before the first shout even comes from them. Daedaelus is hard on Sigurd's heels, aiming to add a fourth orc to the crow's feast.
His strike splits open the orc's belly like an overripe melon, spilling his insides on the ground.
Olyeanna dances around her opponent, both blades slashing in from different angles, seeking the orc's vitals.
Without missing a beat so to speak, Kieran reverses his grip and swings his weapon again, this time against a new target, seeking to take another one out of the fight before it even begins. There is the undeniable sound of bone breaking as the sturdy wooden quarterstaff connects with the orc's body.